#but a few less color options it seems

[slaasherslut]

Im trying a new hair dye brand and it's such a gamble. Will I look good? Or will I have spent $20 to look like a discolored idiot?

[yawnderu]

Task Force 141 Dick Headcanons

John Price:

Price isn't a fan of shaving— it's often not even an option, too busy with his duty as a Captain, hence the trail of dark hair that starts from above his bellybutton, down to his meaty, veiny shaft. 18cms long, circumcised and with a light pink tip that seems to get darker whenever you make him too hard.

Simon ''Ghost'' Riley:

Much less hairy than Price, Simon has a thin happy trail and a pair of balls that hang heavy. 20cms of pure thick meat, veins bulging out along the shaft, his skin paler than usual, only making every single intricate detail stand out even more. Light discoloration a few centimeters near the tip, fading into a soft pink, leaking plenty of precum to actually use as lube whenever he wanks.

Kyle ''Gaz'' Garrick:

Prettiest dick in the entire 141. 17cms long, a small beauty mark underneath his dark shaft. He has a thick vein bulging out of his thick cock, going along the top of his shaft, ending nearing the tip. His leaking tip is lighter than the rest of his dick, a light pink color contrasting with the rest. Very clean and always makes sure to shave, not the biggest fan of being hairy due to sweat building up easier.

John ''Soap'' MacTavish:

Not as long as the rest, though he compensates for it in pure thickness and eagerness, getting hard within seconds even if you're not doing anything particularly sexual. Seeing you in his shirts with nothing underneath makes him harder than ever, his cock standing tall and proud at 16cms, thick veins running along his shaft. Circumcised, his pink tip always leaking like a broken faucet. Like Price, he's not the biggest fan of shaving and prefers not doing it at all unless it bothers you, letting the bush of dark hair cover his pelvis.

Bonus:

König:

Absolute monster cock. Too big for his own good, scared off the few women who tried sleeping with him before he met you, and is secretly self-conscious about it. Not only his dick is long, it's also thick. 22cms, uncircumcised and naturally not that hairy, a little trail of light blond hair pooling on his pelvis. His tip is a very light pink, getting darker whenever he's hard.

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal

(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)

Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.

He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.

So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.

But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League

It starts out with a friendly visit :)

Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.

He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.

It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.

“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”

Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can��t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.

Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.

Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”

“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.

But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.

She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.

Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.

And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.

Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.

They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.

Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?

If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.

They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!

So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.

But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem

Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.

And “make friends?” They’re all masked

But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham

(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)

And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.

Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.

They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.

And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.

Not all of them are appreciated.

Attempt #1: “Making Friends”

After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.

Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?

Write A Mission Statement

What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.

And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.

To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.

Every turn, he is argued with.

“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”

Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”

Bruce already regrets joining.

All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.

“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”

Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.

The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)

But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)

Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.

He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.

That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.

Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.

Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.

He is the youngest by ten years.

Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.

So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.

And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.

He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?

But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤

(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)

The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.

One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”

Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”

One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”

Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.

(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)

Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.

God, he just wants to go home.

Why is he doing this again?

Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends

The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.

He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)

“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”

Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”

Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.

One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.

Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.

In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.

A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.

(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)

And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.

He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.

It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)

And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad

So they stop moaning and groaning

Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!

Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??

One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.

(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)

(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)

Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”

Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.

(He likes older men.)

(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)

(Sue me.)

(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)

(Coward.)

One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.

They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)

One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier

“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.

(The answer is yes.)

A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.

In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??

Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.

They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.

Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”

Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”

The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board

Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.

A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.

Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.

And, of course, they play FMK at some point.

(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)

During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:

Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:

He tried

Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?

The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.

Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.

Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.

But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—

Takes off his cowl.

And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.

Then, “Oh fuck.”

(That was Green Lantern.)

Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.

He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.

The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”

The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.

He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)

“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.

Meanwhile, the others are like—

Oh. My. God.

Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.

And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.

Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.

Sue her.

They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF

And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)

He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”

The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”

No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies

They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.

(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)

They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:

(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)

At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”

Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.

Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.

For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.

After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”

Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”

They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.

(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)

Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.

But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.

They learned a lot about their friend that night.

And they have a lot of bets to cash in.

FIN

Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)

Hey bestie @bruciemilf

[jhkfan123]

dress | coriolanus snow

pairing: youngpresident!snow x assistantfem!reader

in which: a wardrobe malfunction leaves you with no choice but to wear a red dress to the presidential gala. a very scandalous red dress. one that your boss, coriolanus snow, was sure to notice.

warnings: heavy kissing (light smut, no s3x), cheating

wc: 2k

just my luck, you thought. they had tailored your dress completely wrong. you had no backup option. no alternate dress. but as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed every place this special dress no longer fit. it was a gorgeous dress, a showstopper. everyone at the gala would turn their heads. you knew it.

but there was no way you could still wear this. you would be the laughing stock of the presidential gala for years to come if you did. and you knew that snow would not like it. and he had to like it.

you really needed this job. being his assistant. it paid well, and you needed that. and you had come to the conclusion he had taken quite a liking to you. he didn't seem as cold towards you as others, though still, quite cold. he laughed at your jokes occasionally, made sure you had everything you needed.

and you had come to the conclusion that there was something about his cold personality that you liked. he could sometimes be charming, when he wanted to be. and of course there was no doubt he was a very attractive man. besides, being the president's personal assistant was a great job to have for future work.

you slipped the now ruined dress off and began to scavenge through your closet for anything that was close to suitable to wear tonight. you only had an hour before your car was here. it was either a new dress, or makeshift tailoring of the other dress. and you didn't know how to sew.

most other dresses you owned had too much of a work vibe, or far to short to be respectable.

then you came across one, tucked away in the back of your closet. you weren't sure when you got it, you certainly didn't remember purchasing it. but it was there. and when you took it off the hanger and got a good look at it, you thought it was worth a shot. floor length, and deep red color, it could work.

it wasn't until you fully looked at yourself in the mirror that you noticed the one flaw in the dress. almost the entirety of your left leg was exposed. a huge slit went up one side of it. the fabric bunched at the top, pretty much at your hip.

you almost gasped at the slit that exposed you. there was no way you could wear this. but as you continued to dig through your closet, you realized you had no other option. you were going to have to show up in this dress. you had no idea how people would react. but it was this or nothing.

as you stepped out of your car and approached the steps up to the presidential mansion, you saw heads turn at your outfit in the way you hadn't anticipated. you chose to walk with a confident exterior. just because you knew it wasn't the outfit you intended, didn't mean they had to know. you ignored all the eyes on you as you walked past and headed straight inside.

by the time you got there, most people had arrived. you weren't here with anyone, even though you had been given an option for a plus one. you didn't have anyone at home, and it would be nice to not have the obligation to stick with one person the whole night.

walking into the ballroom, less people turned their heads at your outfit. they were more focused on dancing, or eating, or talking to notice someone's outfit. and that was just what you wanted. if this outfit didn't go unnoticed, it would be the talk of the panem elite for weeks. they were all gossips.

you chatted with a few people who were connections through president snow, but they were just as uninterested as the vague topics as you, so you clung to a wall, drink in hand, and decided to watch the crowd.

"y/n." you heard. you recognized the voice as your boss's, snow. you turned to locate the sound and found him walking towards you. he was dressed in a suit with red accents, his signature color. in fact, it was almost the same shade of red as your dress.

"oh. hello mr. snow." you greeted him as he took the drink in your hand and gave you a fresh one.

"please, coriolanus. coryo, even. we aren't working." he corrected you. you nodded.

"sorry. hello coryo." you spoke again, taking his correction. going with his nickname, you noticed a quiet reaction in his face. he raised one side of his mouth into a little smirk.

"no, no don't apologize." it was at this moment he looked down at your outfit. you watched as his eyes scanned from the top of your outfit, down to your heels, and then looked at your leg from the bottom of the slit to the top. you weren't surprised, but this did incite some sort of fear in you. if he didn't approve of this outfit, you had no idea what the consequences could be. "i- um," he cleared his throat. "i like your dress." the comment seemed like a cover up for his true opinion.

"thank you, snow. the suit fits you great. i'm glad it worked out." you were present for all of his fittings and the entire process of picking out the suit. you were his assistant, after all.

"thank you. that's-" he took a pause and looked at you're outfit again. "that's not the dress you said you were going to wear." you knew it would come up. he had approved the original dress you picked. you decided wether or not to admit to the mishap, or play it off.

"last minute decision." you smiled at him. you couldn't tell if he bought your lie or not.

"mm." he looked around the room and took a sip of his drink. "i hate these things, you know." the presidential ball had been around for five years now. you had only attended last year's ball, as you had gotten this position only a few months before it.

"why keep throwing them?" you asked. he looked at you as if it was odd to even ask the question.

he thought for a moment before answering. "keeps people busy, distracted. it's become the event of the year. not bad for the campaign, either." he responded. you nodded in agreement.

"where's livia?" you asked. his wife, livia cardew, was supposed to be the most dressed up person here, yet you hadn't spotted her in the crowd yet. you noticed as he rolled his eyes at the mention of her name. he had an odd coldness towards his own wife. you knew their marriage wasn't great, but it was as if he never really loved her at all.

"i'm not sure. haven't seen her all day. she might not even be here." he responded quickly and vaguely. you looked around the room for a moment before you looked back at snow. you caught him staring at your exposed leg again. he quickly looked back at you.

"i'm going to go talk to people." there was something about the way he looked at you that made you want to escape. he looked at you in a way a married man shouldn't. he nodded and you lost yourself in the crowd.

after dancing and a drink, you were back on the wall, people watching. that was until a hand grabbed you and began to pull you into a separate room. you looked up as you saw snow enter the library, your hand in his, and shut the door behind you.

"coryo what the hell!" you immediately regretted the way you talked to your boss. you almost covered your mouth in regret, however, he didn't seem to mind.

"i can't take this any longer." he began to pace in front of you. the warm light of the library fireplace backlit him.

"what?" you were still flustered from the sudden entrance to the library.

"you know, i could handle you when you were in regular dresses, and pantsuits, and everything but this." he gestured to your dress. "but you absolutely cannot show up to my gala looking like that and expect me to not notice you." he got closer to you now, still going on. he was breathing heavily and seemed like he was arguing with himself. "expect me to not want you." he finally took a moment to catch his breath.

"notice me? coryo, what?"

"you are tormenting me. in that outfit. you're driving me mad. you're making me hate you and need you at the same time." you began to get butterflies in your stomach at his comments. "i tried to distance myself from you, but no matter how far away i was from you, i was across the ballroom from you and i still couldn't get you out of my head." you couldn't help but smile. he noticed. "don't smile at me. god don't do that."

he paused. he thought for a moment. you couldn't help but get red at his comments. you knew exactly what he wanted to do. you knew exactly what your boss wanted from you:

you.

so you looked at him, batting your eyelashes once in a while, waiting for him to do something. waiting for him to snap.

"you drive me insane." he spoke again, this time much quieter. "insane." he walked over to you and kissed you like he had never wanted anything more. he backed you up against the bookshelf and ignored the fact that a few books fell. you kissed him back. something about the words he had spoken earlier had convinced you that you needed him the same way he needed you.

he grabbed your leg, which was easy from the slit of the dress and dragged it up until it was sitting on his hip. he held it with one arm. he began to slither that arm up your leg towards your thigh. that was when your adrenaline high ended and you realized the magnitude of your decision. you realized that at any moment, livia cardew could walk in and see her husband cheating on her with his assistant. you pulled away to speak. he didn't bother to stop and this time began to kiss your neck.

"coryo-" you took a beat to catch your breath. "coryo, you're married!" you took heavy breaths as he continued to kiss you.

through rough kisses, he spoke again.

"barely. i couldn't care less if she sees us." something about the comment made your knees go weak, and you directed his kisses towards your lips again.

everything about this was wrong. but the high you got from him made every bad outcome disappear as you focused on the moment. he made the entire world outside of this library disappear. all you wanted right now was him, close to you. in fact, you wanted so much more than that.

and you knew he did too. you could tell through his unspoken words and kisses that this was something he had controlled for a long time. something he had kept inside. but the dress you had worn tonight clearly set him over the edge. he picked your other leg up and started to take you somewhere. you heard as he pushed multiple things off the desk at once and place you there instead.

there was something about the scandal and secrecy of this all that made it that much more appealing to you.

as he continued to make you feel things you hadn't felt before, he threw his coat down. every move he made was that much more attractive.

at the beginning, this felt risky, but now, as you sat there, letting him kiss you wherever he pleased, you had no regrets. none at all.

the dress that had been your biggest concern that night had given you the biggest reward.

getting absolutely high off coriolanus snow.

tags: @mischieftom

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part Three

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Emily x reader (platonic), Sera x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Betrayal

Warning(s): Cursing, lies, betrayal

Notes: This is the third installment of LLM. This part will be shorter than part 2 and will finally go over the trial and (Y/N)'s reaction the extermination. I'm going to be honest, I'm dropping my other hazbin mini series. This is only until I can find the time and motivation to write it. I'm really busy with school and work, and lately my obsession with Hazbin has started to die down. I still love the series and fandom, but that's just something that happens to me from time to time when I watch a new series or get into a fandom. It comes and it goes, and I've been reading a lot of hazbin stuff but now it's starting to feel like an obligation I've set for myself and it makes reading less fun and more like a chore. I have no doubt my obsession will come back when the 2nd season comes out. This happens will all the fandoms I am apart of - like right now, I'm obsessing over Avatar the last airbender again after rewatching the series (not the live action). Don't worry, I'll continue this series as I don't want this to end up unfinished. I have the outline pretty much written, but it will take time to finish - so, please, bare with me.

Singing Colors: Adam, Lute, Charlie, Emily, Sera, (Y/N).

Words: 1631

"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".

As the time of the trial drew closer, there seemed to be a few hiccups on Heaven's side of things.

The angel who was supposed to be the trial's stenographer got a nasty cold and all the replacements had their own responsibilities to attend to. The only angel available just so happened to be (Y/N) herself.

When one of the court angels asked (Y/N) if she could do it, she didn't hesitate to accept.

Now she had the perfect excuse to watch Charlie's trial without having to sneak in!

Imagine Sera's surprise and horror when she saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Where's Angela?" Sera asked. She was a bit panicked, but did her best to hide it. (Y/N) smiled politely at the higher seraphim, clearly oblivious to Sera's rigid demeanor. "She got a pretty bad cold last minute and all of the other replacements were busy today; and since I was the only one who was available - here I am!".

Sera gave her an uneasy smile, "I see. Thank you for your help today, it's much appreciated". This was the last thing she wanted. The resemblance between (Y/N) and the Princess of Hell was very difficult to ignore and could raise questions if it wasn't for the stardust story Heaven fed everyone.

Sera had wanted to keep (Y/N) away from the trial in hopes of avoiding any contact between her and Charlie. She didn't want (Y/N) to accidently discover the truth about her lineage.

Sera loved (Y/N) like a daughter.

When (Y/N) was younger Michael would sometimes have Sera babysit while he attended to his more serious duties.

She practically helped raise her and she refused to let some misguided demon princess and her partner ruin that.

Unfortunately, the court needed a stenographer.

With no one else available, she was left with no other option.

Sera thanked (Y/N) for her hard work and for stepping in.

She gave the girl a gentle forehead kiss before leaving her to prepare for the trial.

It was only for today and once this pointless trial was over everything would go back to the way it was.

And (Y/N) would be none the wiser and away from that misguided influence.

However, things weren't as perfect as Sera had hoped for.

The moment Charlie and Vaggie entered the courtroom and saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk, the two cousins eagerly waved at each other.

Sera's eyes widened in horror. No. This wasn't supposed to happen - it was the worse case scenario.

When did those two meet?!

She sighed in frustration already knowing that (Y/N) must have sought the girl out herself.

Dammit Emily.

(Y/N)'s curiosity was her biggest flaw and was going to end up getting her into serious trouble if not handled properly.

Sera quickly composed herself. No point in losing herself and catching any unnecessary attention.

She still had a trial to run and then she'll have a talk with (Y/N) later.

Now, (Y/N) was nice to just about everyone. She could get along with just about anyone she's ever met. But there was one person, or rather two, she just couldn't stand.

Adam and his little crony Lute.

These two irritated her to no ends with how high and mighty they acted. How either of them managed to stay in Heaven was beyond her.

Her father just told her to bare it, despite him also disliking the two of them - especially that narcissistic douchebag Adam.

(Y/N) did her best to hide her grimace whenever Adam spoke during the trial.

As the trial went on (Y/N) felt a little nervous when Charlie was shut down from making anymore definition references. She could see how nervous her poor cousin was getting.

When Charlie looked over at her, (Y/N) made sure to give her a small smile and mouthed, "You've got this".

This managed to help calm Charlie's nerves enough for her to regain her composure. Charlie got a little more confident when presenting Angel Dust, the hotel's first patron.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes when Adam spoke up again trying to discredit her cousin.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?".

Charlie's question stumped more than just Adam. (Y/N) had to take a moment to think - how does someone get into Heaven?

Being Heaven-born (Y/N)'s never had to be on the other end with humans who had to earn their place in paradise. And if someone as crude and vile as Adam can get into Heaven then what did it take for others, especially the damned who didn't deserve Hell - like children, for example.

Adam quickly wrote on a piece of paper before giving it to Vaggie to read aloud.

"'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?' - are you fucking serious?".

"Uh, yeah. Sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?".

(Y/N) raised a brow. That's all it took to get someone into Heaven?

Charlie tried to argue Angel was doing all of those things, to which the court decided to observe Angel through the courtroom's orb. At first, things weren't looking good for Charlie when Angel gave into peer pressure.

(Y/N) bit her lip, silently hoping this would somehow take a turn for the better. She really wanted Charlie to show her hotel worked and for Adam to eat his words.

Luckily, things did start looking up when Angel took care of his friend, Nifty, and defended her from that awful moth demon.

"Then why isn't he here, huh?".

(Y/N) paused her typing - why isn't he here?

This started a whole argument at the unfairness of it all. How even those in Hell could be redeemed if only given the chance. (Y/N) and Emily saw the change in Angel and how he did everything on Adam's list.

"A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month".

. . . Wait what?

(Y/N) furrowed her brows in confusion. One month? What was he talking about?

"Gotta say I can't wait to-"

"Adam".

(Y/N) looked up at Sera, did she know what he was talking about? What the hell was going on?!

"Come down and exterminate you".

. . . WHAT?!

(Y/N) and Emily looked horrified at the shocking news.

"Wait!".

"Shit!".

(Y/N) and Emily fly over to Charlie, Vaggie, Adam, and Lute looking sadly at the orb showing the residents in Hell being mercilessly killed by the exorcists.

"What are you saying?"

"Let me get this straight".

"You go down there and kill those poor souls?".

"You didn't know?".

Charlie was shocked to hear that not all of Heaven knew about the exterminations. She was relieved to hear that her cousin didn't know and that she seemed to be against it.

"Whoops!".

"Guess the cat's outta the bag!".

"What's the big deal?".

(Y/N) and Emily turned and looked up at Sera.

"Sera tell us that you didn't know".

"I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder".

"No".

"You have to listen, it was such a hard decision".

Sera flew down from her seat.

"I wanted to save you".

She took (Y/N) and Emily's hand in her own.

"The anguish it takes to, do what was required".

The hellfire reflecting in Sera's eyes unnerved (Y/N) and Emily - almost like she enjoyed the suffering and senseless murder of the sinners in Hell.

The two glared at Sera.

"To think that we admired you".

They tore their hands from hers and flew back away from her.

"Well, we don't need your condescension! We're not children to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretention? Were we too naive to expect you, to head the morals you're purveying?".

The two flew back down in front of the orb.

"That's what the fuck I've been saying!".

Charlie walked over to the two angel's grabbing their hands.

(Y/N), Charlie, and Emily moved up and stood on top of the orb showing the exorcists killing sinners.

"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".

"Emily! (Y/N)!".

"If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky!".

The three jumped down and stood before Sera.

"The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say! When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!".

Things only continued getting worse with Charlie finding out Vaggie was an angel and an ex-exorcist, Sera's final ruling of no evidence of sinners being able to be redeemed, and Adam's threat of coming to their hotel first.

"Charlie, it will be okay! I'll find a way to help you - I promise!" (Y/N) called out before Charlie and Vaggie were forced to back to Hell.

After Sera had finished talking to Emily, she went after (Y/N) who had already left the courtroom.

"(Y/N)! Wait, please!" Sera begged grabbing (Y/N) by her wrist. "Please, let me explain!".

(Y/N) turned her head and glared at Sera with such intensity it sent shivers down the High Seraphim's spine. She's never seen (Y/N) look at her like that before.

It broke her heart to see the girl she's helped raise and thought of as a surrogate daughter look at her with such anger and disgust.

"Explain what, Sera?! That you've been here playing God and allowing the murder of sinners! They're already in Hell, what more could you possibly want?! They don't deserve this!" (Y/N) yanked her wrist from Sera's hold and flew away.

She couldn't believe this had been going on and she never even knew! Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her poor cousin. She knew needed to do something to help Charlie.

But first, she needed to see whether or not her father and the other archangels knew about this all along.

Taglist:

@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18 @sirenetheblogger @jagharamira @el-hajj @azharyy @glowymxxn @itsmonicabc

[velvetures]

could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>

pls and ty 🙏🏻

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic

a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):( Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it. TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.

Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.

You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.

At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.

What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.

Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.

Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.

Knowing that gave him… fantasies.

Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.

Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.

Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.

Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.

Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3

[wiltedivinity]

ıllıㅤ𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ; all you saw was red. the blood in his hands, the blood on their bodies, the blood on your own, and the color of the roses you're engulfed in. he wondered at the fact on how far you've brought yourself to get away from him, physically and emotionally, knowing you won't even get to escape a few meters. but you wondered... why?

ㅤ⨯ if any of the following trigger you, please click off: dead dove: do not eat ; non-con ; female!reader ; violence ; (minor character) deaths ; assault ; possessiveness ; yandere themes ; choking ; toxic & unhealthy relationships ; forceful actions ; suggestive themes ; semi-smut ; threats & insults ; angsty? ; childe is an asshole ; not proofread

ㅤ⨯ archive :: taglist :: inbox / appeal information :: 18+ ONLY

Why… Why… Why… You wanted to ask. You wanted to scream out till’ your lungs give you in. Your feet were planted on the ground firmly, refusing to move an inch as you watch the Harbinger pierce his blades into the chest of your mother repeatedly, the water of his weapon slowly being stained with dark blood, blood that’s mixed with different victims that have witnessed his wrath. Including yours. You eye the wound on your arm, the red liquid was still dripping and staining the ground under you. “Why…” it barely even came out as a whisper, more like a simple breath of the wind most people would ignore but not to him. What can you expect from a man that made You, a person he should have cared less for, his main priority in his life.

“Why…?” you sobbed out, bringing your head up from the floor to find him staring right back at you. The Harbinger stands up and carelessly lays your mother figure to the ground before kicking it out of his sight, dissipating his water blades into thin air as blood continues to stain him and maybe you in the process. “‘Why,’ you ask?” Childe hums, making his way towards you, raising his hand to meet your cheek but you slap it away before he could even touch. “Answer me.” you grit your teeth at the man who was smiling sadistically at you.

“Wow, what a feisty girl. Didn’t know you had it in you, love.” he chuckles, his hand coming in contact with your hand, gripping it and dirtying it with mixed blood. You groan and pull your hand away from his grasp and land a hit on his face. You leave him breathless for a second before his pupils dilated, touching the very spot you slapped him on and caressing it. “You’ve changed quite a lot.”

“I could say the same for you, Tartaglia.” you scoot away from him, your fists clenching in case he makes another move on you. He simply just laughs, each breath he takes, his laughter goes lower and lower until he is glaring at you with that very same sinister grin on his face. “As much as everything you do makes me breathless,” he says through his smile, “You speaking my codename isn’t it. Change that up, hun.”

“Nothing you do will make me change what I feel about you.” A hint of resentment was visible in your eyes, your pupils decreasing its usual size. You tried… Tried to seem threatening but to him he adored it. Even if you managed to intimidate him, he wouldn’t really back out, can he? He knows he’s stronger. He’s a survivor of the Abyss, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Even if he was the Eleventh, the title of being a Harbinger alone is impressive and shows a symbol of great power and strength.

“You think so?” Childe sniggers. “I know so.” you reply boldly, attempting to stand back up only to get knocked down by the stomach by Childe’s elbow, “Oh, we’re not done yet. You’re staying here until our business is done.” you glare at his response, what does this man mean by business? If he means torturing you more than you know that seeing your family die before your eyes is more than torture. You attempt to dart away from him if standing wasn’t an option but he stops you by gripping your ankle.

“Get your fucking hand away from me, Tartaglia.” you sneer but it doesn’t stay for longer when he has his hand around your neck and pins you down, using it as a leverage. You can see his eyes darkening from your lips simply saying his title. “Like I said… You’re staying here until our business is done, [Y/N].” he emphasized with a growl at the end of the sentence as he quickly squeezed your throat. You felt the wetness in the corners of your eyes drip as he pushed you further into the ground. Eyes widening instantly when you realize he’s blocking your airway by choking you, his grip on your neck was unbearably tight and if he continued to stay like this you would–

You can’t breathe, you’re letting out panic and quick pants from your mouth as you try to get his grasp from your throat by pulling his wrist away but he’s stronger… You know that. So why not give up? You don’t want to. You can’t either. You try to kick him off with your legs punching his gut, Childe only groaned and laughed. “Hah,” he sighs, but that quickly turns into loud laughter.

“Haha!” he jests, pushing you on the floor as your consciousness slowly slips away from you. “Go on! Keep trying, it makes the job easier. Just look at you, turning blue from my hand around your throat.” he muses, a grin forming on his face sinisterly. You want to argue, but not in this situation. You could barely breathe and voicing out your thoughts will worsen. But in the end, you’d faint from the loss of breath and he would win in the end. He can easily overpower you anytime he wants. That’s a perk of being a Harbinger trained under an unknown woman from the Abyss.

“Sleep well. I’ll be waiting.” he coos lowly, your eyelids drooping lower as you let out your last breath before you faint. Once you do, he slowly pulls his grasp around your throat and admires the handprint on it. A nice dull, desaturated red. Almost the color of the blood of his opponents. Childe brings your unconscious body into his embrace and carefully stands up, looking back to see the limp figures of your family members laying on the floor, all bloodied and dismembered from his hold. If he could be honest, it was their fault, they disapproved of him ever since he was a member of the Fatui and the idea of their precious daughter to get associated with him was something they’d never want. You were okay in keeping contact with him and didn’t think much of his status. But that didn’t go through with your family. They even go as far as to separate the two of you and cut all ties with his family in order to keep you safe and away from him.

Oh what a bad decision they made.

.

.

.

Your eyes groggily open, and your body twitches beneath the mattress you were sleeping on. Your hand tries to touch your brow, but something prevents it. You examined your wrists and discovered that it was connected to the headboard of the bed, leaving you vulnerable and unable to move. You struggle under the restraints, desperate to be freed but a door has already been opened before you could move any further. "Ah, you're awake," says a familiar voice from the other side of the room, as footsteps approach your bed.

“I hope you don’t mind the chains. I didn’t want you escaping so this was a better alternative!” A glee came from Childe, that broad and boyish smile of his not wavering one bit when he sees your harsh glare. “Let me go,” you growl, shuffling on the bed aggressively but it only worsens the pain on your wrists.

“Oh come on, don’t get mad at me now. Be thankful you got chained in my bedroom instead of something much brutal.” He grabs your chin to stop you from moving too much, his grip is tight, one wrong breath and he’ll tighten it more so you sit still.

All of the sudden, his grin widens, but not in a good way. “Or maybe you’d like what I originally planned more.” The dark glint on his eyes becomes evident, “But let’s get you fed first. It’s been hours since you’ve passed out and you must be starving after that long!” And it switches up all too suddenly. It’s as if the man forgot that he kidnapped you and did monstrous things to your family.

He then places the tray on a desk near the bed. Childe eyes the handcuffs on your hand and shrugs, “You’ll get used to this.” He assures you, taking the hot, steaming bowl of soup and placing it near your face, the spoon already scooping the broth and placing it in front of your lips.

“Come on. Say ‘ahh’” the ginger-head instructs, blowing air on the spoonful of stew so you’re able to consume it. You wanted to protest but your stomach grumbles before you can do so, making the harbinger chortle. “Might as well open your mouth. It’ll make things easier for you… And your stomach.” He points out.

You purse your lips, shaking your head. This causes Childe to frown heavily, “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” His jaw clenches, “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. Now, eat.” He shakes his hand, a little too aggressively but not enough to spill the bouillon. “No,” You furrow your brows, turning your head away from the spoon. “You heard me the first time.” You argued back, your fists already clenched. You would’ve thrown a punch on him if you could if it weren’t for the handcuffs.

“You really don’t know who you’re messing with, [Y/N].” The way he spoke your name was strong, almost intimidating. “I can shut the fucking mouth of yours if I wanted to. Hell, I’ll do that right now.” Childe smiles grimly, the sinister gleam on his eyes shine, the hand that was holding the spoonful of soup placed inside of his mouth, his free hand clutching onto your shirt and pulling you raspingly into his lips, forcing you to drink in the hot liquid.

You feel his tongue penetrate through your lips, forcing them open. Your chin was trapped between his fingers and he uses this to tilt your head backwards so you can drink the broth that he pours. You feel yourself coughing into Childe’s lips but he doesn’t budge one bit, only pushing you down the mattress with his arm behind your neck. Your attempts in pushing away were fruitless, so your only choice was biting his lip until it bled.

Fortunately that worked, though he didn’t pull away instantly. He let his tongue explore your mouth before doing so, it seems like he was enjoying how the soup tastes mixed with his blood. Childe lets out a few breaths before looking down at you, the corners of his mouth still stained with a bit of red liquid and dried up broth. “Don’t you think I’m done with you. You barely finished a portion of the soup.” He chuckles, his hand making its way to the bowl to scoop more fluid into his mouth until your foot kicks his thigh, making him freeze and look towards you.

“I-I’ll eat… Just not from your mouth.” You try to reason with him but he continues to drink up the liquid, his cheeks puffing a bit from the soup taking up the space inside of his mouth. You just know that he wasn’t going to do it your way by the way he’s leaning down on you and pressing his lips against yours. Pouring in whatever he has in your mouth yet again. You furrow your brows as tears flow down your cheeks, the taste is bitter. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and a fog in your mind.

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You pant heavily, your chest was visibly rising from up and down as you stare up at Childe without breaking eye contact. The man didn’t show one bit of remorse for what he’s done to you. That shit-eating grin that was spread across his face shows it. He shuffles and rises up from the bed, taking the half-eaten bowl of soup before walking away. The moment he’s at the door, he turns his head to look back at you, eyes watching you from head-to-toe before nodding and walking away, seemingly amused.

You shake on Childe’s bed, throwing your head back as you sob. What have you fucking gotten into? Your eyes are squinted tight, your wrists are still painfully wounded from how forceful Childe was when handling your body not too long ago when you’re trying to set them free from the chains. To set yourself from things getting worse. You couldn’t stop wiggling your body on the mattress in an attempt to loosen yourself from the handcuffs.

This could’ve ended differently… Maybe if you knew and saw the red flags in his letter or the way he acted when he was around you, you would’ve escaped. But you should doubt that. The man’s a Harbinger, a child who fell into the Abyss, a striving and unmatched warrior and most importantly, a manipulative companion who always gets what he wants. And you being a long-time friend only worsens it since the both of you knew each other more deeply than anyone else. He knew your weaknesses, your likes, dislikes and everything.

And you don’t know any of his weaknesses. It was hard to guess. You only knew a few and it was you. But being his weakness also means being his strength, you know how you get him. You were his source of motivation. If you weren’t then he wouldn’t be torturing people to tell him about your whereabouts ever since your family cut ties with him.

“Don’t sleep on me now~ We still have yet to clean you up!” Childe chimes in the room once again, a towel in his hand as he approaches and kneels on the floor. His arms are on the mattress of the bed, his head firmly placed in between them as he stares at you. “I haven’t bathed you properly and seeing the stains on your shirt, you wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in something dirty, right?” He attempts to sway you. “I may be a bad guy, but I’m no monster.” You wanted to laugh. What the actual fuck does he mean by that?

You decide not to protest. You were too tired to do so and your lips could barely sound out a breath. “Good girl.. You’ve finally learned your lesson!” Childe grins at the wig hut of your tired face, the blush on your cheeks evident from the messy and hard kisses he’s been giving you. He trails his finger on them, slowly moving them downwards until they reach your neck, carefully grasping it, causing you to choke on your deep breaths.

“Good girls deserve rewards, correct?” Childe tilts his head with that stupid grin on his face. He must be proud at how much of a mess he’s made out of you. How much control he has over you. He knows you know it, he’s laughing to himself right now. “So let me reward you..” His smile drops, as well as his voice.

He didn’t waste a millisecond to bring his right arm under your knees and his left arm beneath your back. Shaking you a bit so that you wouldn’t sleep when he bathes you. “Stay awake for me, pretty. Don’t want you drowning.” He snickers with a teasing grin on his face. He takes quick but careful steps to the open door that leads to the bathroom. He sat you down in the bathtub and prompted you to take your clothes off. You can feel the embarrassment bubble up inside of you as well as your jaw tightening. “Come on, now. Don’t get too shy~ You’re gonna get used to this soon enough.” he traces the shape of your cheek before he lets his finger move lower to your neck to unbutton one button of your collar.

“You’re a big girl now, right?” He murmurs softly, grabbing your hand and placing it on your shirt, silently commanding you to undress. “But I don’t mind if I could do it instead. I’d be more than happy to see you trust in me in this.” Childe was trying his best to go easy on you. He knew he wouldn’t go anywhere if he continued to torture you.

He’ll make sure he’s all you can rely on. The only person you can trust in this dim cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“No.. I can do it.” You push his hand away as you slowly unbutton your shirt, each time you show a bit of your skin with each button, his gaze intensifies. He couldn’t help but put his hands on the sides of your stomach, his thumb brushing the soft and bare skin. He leans in and uses his teeth to drag the collar of your shirt to the side to reveal more of your figure. “So pretty..” he praises, licking a stripe of your shoulder. You sat there, frozen and clutching onto his shirt, attempting to push him away.

He notices this and controls his urges. He’s not gonna do anything, yet. “Undress the rest of your clothing for me.” He pulls away and stands up to discard his gloves. You do as he says and unzip your jeans, kicking them off. You were only left with your undergarments and the way he eats up every bare skin of your body makes you feel unsafe to what he’s gonna do next.

Childe really has a hard time breathing at the sight of you. God he’d just take you there right now but he slaps himself to the thought of it. “Not yet..” He scolds himself internally. He’ll do it once the time is right. For now, he needs you cleaned up. “Take those off too.” You swore you heard a low grunt at the end of his sentence but you didn’t dare question it. You unclip your bra from behind, struggling a bit from taking it off before finally letting it fall off your shoulders and onto your lap. 

Childe stares at you, admiring every curve and contour but he snaps out of it once your hands lowered to take off your underwear too. His eyes were stuck on your lap and at the sight of your cunt. He lets out a heavy huff he didn’t know he was holding for so long and grabs your undergarments, placing them in the sink. A moment later, he turned on the water faucet and washed your naked body with soap. Occasionally brushing the scars (that he made) with his thumb to soothe you (as well as admiring it as if it’s a work of art.)

It didn’t take too long to finish bathing you. It’s probably the first time you’ve behaved around him but that doesn’t mean you’ll tolerate him for long. Childe gently grabs your chin and tilts it upwards for your eyes to face him. You thought he’d do something he wasn’t supposed to but he just simply caressed the bruise on your cheek. You could only sigh and hope whatever he wanted to do just finishes.

“Let’s get you settled..” Childe gets up from his kneeling position and grabs a white towel. He turns his head and gestures to you to get out of the tub. You did what he commanded and stood up from the water and stepped out of it. You cringe at the cold breeze meeting your skin as the water droplets sticking on your drop to the ground.

You notice the ginger-haired man’s hesitance when seeing your bare body in all of its glory. The water made your skin glisten a bit, all he wanted to do now was mouth your neck, your collarbone, literally anywhere. He wasn’t being picky at this point. He just wanted his hands all over your body.

He couldn’t contain himself much longer and dropped the towel as he desperately strides towards you to wrap his arms around your waist and pull your wet body on his clothed one. His hands obsessively ravaging your hips and your back, “Fuck… So pretty for me, yeah?” He grunts at the feeling of being so close to you, chest-to-chest, trapped in his arms with no escape and no choice but to deal with his horrid affection. “All for me…” His fingers pat your bare hip until it reaches your ass, squeezing it lightly. You froze and clutch onto his shirt, “Stop… Please..” You plead, but he growls. “Fine..” he responds but doesn’t let you distance yourself from him.

Childe grabbed the towel that fell on the floor, he turns to you again and dry your body up, periodically brushing your intimate parts with his lips, saying it was to quicken the process. He wasn’t even trying to make a better excuse.

With one last stroke of the towel around your breasts, he pulls away and admires his work. “I’ll get you some clothes. Come with me.” he places the towel on a towel rail and leads you to– most likely– his room.

He sits you down on the edge of the bed as he explores through a closet of clothes. Maybe… Just maybe you could knock him out. He was really distracted at the moment but you don’t have anything to attack him with. Even if you did, you’d be dead. He’s not that weak nor does he have slow instincts to sense what’s wrong.

“Hey..” Childe snaps his fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes widen and blink a few times before looking up at him, confused. Childe stares at you for a moment before letting out a chuckle and sighing, amused at your act. “Done daydreaming, sweetheart?” he teases before handing you some folded group of clothes. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like that for too long. But I don’t mind such a sight either way… I’ll think of other ways to heat you up if you let me.” He smirks and you internally cringe at his remark in trying to bed you.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Childe.” You grin awkwardly at him and attempt to grab the clothes from his hands but he refuses to give you it. “[Y/N].” He spoke your name. He sounded mad, as if you did or said something wrong and offending. “Yes, Chil–”

“Don’t call me that.” He cuts you off with a stern tone. The way his eyes narrow at how your lips voiced out his name— his codename to be specific. A name that’s normally used by either enemies or acquaintances that he's barely close with. “It’s Ajax.. Just call me that, [Y/N]. It’s just two syllables and four letters.”

“...”

Childe notices your silence and sighs, feeling frustrated. “Just this once at least.. Please?” he begs and you swore he looked pathetic like that. You can’t believe this is the exact same man who just committed manslaughter yesterday and got rid of your whole family. “...Ajax.” You mussitate,  a hint of annoyance within your tone from his persistence.

You were unable to catch the self-satisfied smile he had on his lips. Childe lets out a content hum as he places the pile of clothes on your hands and pushes you to sit on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He expresses his mirth fatuously, “Get dressed. I’ll take a bath. Behave for me, alright? Don’t go out without my permission.” He spoke softly, holding your shoulder, his grip was threatening but soon enough softened, taking it out of your body. He stared at you for a moment, his gaze on you didn’t waver as he studied every detail on you.

With a turn of his heel, he left and entered the bathroom, closing it and locking it as water started running inside.

You sat on the bed's edge. Feeling overwhelmed, the sound of his voice, the way his touch sends shocking shocks through your body. You were overthinking what had just happened and didn't see how your body began to shake from the cold. You wore the long-sleeved sweater and pajamas gently, shaking the thoughts out of your head. It strangely fits... Did he get your size while you were sleeping? But it didn't appear brand new if he did manage to get your size and buy clothing for it.

You stood up and walked onto the exit door of the bedroom you were in, looking towards the door where Childe was bathing. When you're close enough, you palm the knob and turn it slowly so as not to create too much noise.

The corners of your lips raise a bit when you successfully open the door but it soon drops when you hear another door creak behind you. “What do you think you’re doing?” an austere voice rumbles from a few feet. Slowly turning your head, you’re met with the sight of Childe’s bare chest that was dripping with hot water.

You were so distracted by his sudden closeness that you didn’t notice his hand closing the door while leaning in front of you so it couldn’t be opened. “Be a dear and get out of the way.” his tone wasn’t as gentle as before. You warned yourself not to get him mad or else you’ll face something you’ll regret. You let out a sigh as you take a step to the side and awkwardly walk towards the bed to sit there again. Childe seems to calm down from the way his shoulders slump as he locks the door. He turns to look at you before making his way over to the bed, “Look at me.” he commands, gripping your chin harshly.

Once making eye contact with you, he stayed silent. You knew what he was saying from how his eyes were narrowing while he let out uneven, heavy breaths.

It didn’t take long for him to pull away in pure silence so he could dress up. Once finished, he crawls over to you and forces you to lay down on the mattress with his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you locked within his embrace. You feel his nose brush up against your nape, breathing in and familiarizing your addicting scent. “You smell divine..” The man murmurs from behind, his hand palming your stomach in a loving way. He feels the way you tense up from his touches and he hums, grinning from the feeling. “Relax… I won’t do anything yet.”

His ‘reassuring’ words only served to stiffen you up. Childe sighs before his grip tightens around you and wraps a leg around your pair. He decided to just stay silent, assuming you’ll get used to his presence around you soon enough. It’s not like you have a choice either way.

.

.

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“Dear…” Childe murmurs longingly as he turns his body to face yours. He’s been tossing and turning all night during his sleep and he didn’t notice that until now. He opens his eyes tiredly with a sheepish smile as his arms wrap around the soft figure in front of him, “I’m so sorry about that… Did I wake you?” he asks, his tone tinged with a bit of guilt.

No response.

Childe purses his lips as he shakes his head and sits up, gripping what seems to be your shoulder and forcing you to look at him.

But it wasn’t you. It was just a pillow.

Upon his realization, he quickly got up and searched around the house for you. It’s not like you’ve gotten far, right? Not to the point you’re outside the cabin he’s trapping you in. All the doors were locked, windows closed shut so that your weak body couldn’t open it.

That is, until he noticed the front door lock on the floor. He wouldn't have seen your escape if it weren't for the gleaming metal flashing in the dark. As he slammed the front door wide, he noticed footsteps, footprints pointing towards the woodland that encircled the lodge. He grits his teeth before donning the dark, heavy coat that had been hanging nearby before stepping out to get you and take you back inside.

Even though everything was dark, he could see where he was going. Where you were going. It won't be long before he catches up with you. He realizes you didn't go very far. You're too lost in this forest and you'll end up back where you started(. There’s a reason why he set up this specific forest when trapping you). Do you really think you can escape him that easily? He chuckles to himself. It’s amusing. It’s good to have some determination, some hope at least, but it’s also good to be realistic. 

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.

You ran and ran as fast as you could, away from the cabin in the woods, away from the creature within it. Your feet hurt severely. You’ve underestimated how harsh the winter of Snezhnaya is, how the breeze alone causes your whole body to turn numb from the cold. What’s worse was that you couldn’t stop moving no matter what. Even a single second counts, driving you closer to your escape.

You struggle to breathe after all that movement, causing you to stumble against a thick tree root. You pant, taking heavy breaths to regain your composure but you can’t really be calm in a situation like this, can you?

You stood up, dusting the snow off your clothes as you continued forward, trembling a bit from feeling the sudden warmth rising up your body. Fuck… This is gonna be the death of you..

You hear footsteps tapping behind you, approaching you slowly and surely. A howl can be heard from behind that was soon followed by a growl. You slowly turned your head in search of the source of the sound and quickly regretted it. The sight of the darkish Rifthounds glaring at you sent a shiver on your spine. They were quite far but it didn’t take awhile for them to start noticing your presence and preparing to teleport or sprint at you.

You saw the Rockfound Rifthound instantly turning its body, disappearing for a second before appearing right in front of you, about to swing its tail to attack you. You shriek out loud, your legs instinctively move to the opposite direction only for you to instantly get knocked forward when feeling the tail make contact with your back. Groaning, you attempt to get back up, ignoring the sights of the Whelps drawing nearer towards you.

You clenched your fist before grabbing a big enough rock and throwing it at the Rifthound that just attacked you to catch it off guard. Seeing it roar in pain and the Whelps looking towards their leader, you took this chance to escape from the creature's grasp.

Never have you felt this much adrenaline rushing through your vines. You felt so dead yet so alive right now…

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a static of Electro rotating over to you. The projectile makes an impact on your side, causing you to get pushed and injured in the process. You grunt gutturally, clutching your hip and left arm, hissing as the sting worsens the more contact it has with your hand and other solid things.

You look over to your side, spotting a Thundercraven Rifthound nearing you along with its accompaniment of Whelps. Your hands swiftly touch the ground swiftly, moving it in hope to find another rock but to no avail.

You were trying to think of a way to escape this but there was no way out. You were surrounded by the mobs, and they looked like they wouldn’t let you off the hook easily. You spot a current of Electro and what seems to be aiming at you. You pulled your arms to your face, blocking whatever was about to touch you.

You hiss at the feeling of the electrifying scratch on the small reveal of your skin and twitch when hearing the wail of the Rifthounds around you. Another guttural sound erupts not so far from where you sit, causing you to press your face deeper into your arms.

“Get up.” Someone spoke, their tone serious and authoritative.

It took about a few seconds to do exactly that. You spot that the Rifthounds were gone, only leaving parts of their body left behind. You knew you weren’t strong but it did surprise you that every single one of them was taken care of. “T-Thank you, mister–?”

“I said– Get Up.” His voice booms through you, causing your ear to ring a bit. You perk your head up with your eyes squinted, “Apologies… I–” A breath was taken away from your lungs upon feeling the man’s hand wrapped around your neck, dragging you from the ground up to the sky. The hand squeezes your throat tightly, making you swing your legs on instinct to kick whoever was holding you. “All under my mercy now, huh? What happened to your acts of disobedience? Did it all get thrown out the window once I teach you your lesson?” The man scoffs, harshly dropping you on the snowy ground and kicking you on your stomach, making you turn and tumble down into a group of bushes.

You hiss, the feeling of small pricks picking into your skin, causing small but nasty scars that leave you groaning. You couldn’t see, some even scratched near your eyes and for you not to get blinded by them, you squint your eyelids shut.

“Please– I’m sorry! Let me out!” You sob, trembling in fear, in the stinging pain of the pricks. “Oh, are you now?” The man walks towards the bush, tapping his foot as he watches you struggling. ”Do you mean it?” He plants his foot on top of the bush, slowly but surely deepening its form to strangle you more.

“Yes– I do! Agh–”

“Beg for your life if you mean it.” He deepens it once more. Even if you were under this confined space of a bush, you can spot the sadistic grin plastered on his face, clearly enjoying every second of your suffering. “P-please… I plead.. For mercy. Please.. I can’t br–eathe-hah!” You breathe heavily in between your words, the form of the bush only trapping you little by little. “Do you promise… Pinkie promise to not escape out of my grasp? To obey my every command, dearest?” You feel your hand being taken out of the bush and into the cold air outside. You whine, feeling the small pricks touch your skin in the process.

A pinkie awaits to intertwine with yours, “I’m waiting.” He reminds by delving his foot deeper, causing you to cry out in agony and wrapping your pinkie around his, “I promise! Please!”

“That’s my girl.” He jests in amusement as he pulls away, cracking his knuckles and stretching his body to dive in and carefully but surely pull you out of the spiky bush. He cringes a bit once spotting the small spikes in your skin. He sighed and decided to take care of them later since keeping you warm was his priority right now. Taking his jacket off and wrapping it around you, he made sure the pricks didn’t bother you on the way back to the cabin. He takes a look at the rose bush one last time before picking one of it up and placing it on the chest of his jacket.

He caresses the petals before his fingers meet your chin to tilt them up, “C’mon.. Rest. You’re gonna need it.” He hushes you quietly before forcefully closing your eyes.and pecking your forehead. You couldn’t soften up in his presence even if you wanted to but the way your body just betrays you, forcing you to go limp to gain rest it needs, it gave you no choice to stay awake even if you wanted to.

.

.

.

“You’re awake, I see..” A voice spoke from above. You twitch, turning your head to the source and furrowing your brows upon spotting the oh-so familiar, scarred and freckled face that was right in front of you. You attempt to push him away by nudging your knee against his abdomen but that was countered from a sharp pain coming from both your legs. “..Ahah–!” You let out a roar of discomfort. Chidle grins and jests upon seeing your face contort in displeasure, “You should think twice before doing that. I still haven’t fully catered your body yet.”

He pulls your leg lightly which is enough for your body to get dragged onto his lap. “Don’t move.” He commands, emphasizing it with a squeeze of your thigh.

You internally whimper when you feel him slowly but surely take the thorns out of your skin. “How cute.” he laughs softly, patting a wet, warm towel on the small open wound. “You’re doing great. Just as you should. Continue behaving for me, will you? It’s not like you’re going anywhere with these.” He plays around with the chains around your ankle that was connected to a wall. “It fits you well, don’t you think?” Childe murmurs lovingly, as if he’s admiring the work he’s done on you… Trapped, under his mercy, with no escape.

After finishing up the wounds on your left leg, he leans in close to your face, his hand cupping your waist to bring you closer to him, close enough to place a kiss on your forehead. “There we go… Such a behaved little thing.” Childe jests before standing up and dusting his pants. “Hopefully this will be enough for you. Sleep well, alright?” He pats and ruffles your hair, his hand sliding down to your cheek and caressing it. “Don’t try escaping me. Because next time, you won’t even get to be sleeping under this damnation.”

You tried to bite his palm because it was so close to your mouth, but he took his hand away and quickly brought it back to hit you, turning your head the other way as your cheek erupted in pain. His hand catches your chin and angles it violently in his direction as you hiss. He's grinning viciously, his eyes twitching with annoyance at your attempt to turn the tables on him again, “Still being a bitch? Thought you learnt your lesson… Maybe I should’ve left you to rot.” He snarled, gripping your chin tighter.

“Waste of fucking breath.” He pushes you against the wall and lets go of you, standing with a displeased expression and turning to take his leave as you groan in pain. You clenched your hands into a fist as you watched him climb up the stairs and reach for the door. Childe looks back, glancing upon you one more time before smiling in content to himself and shutting it, following with the sound of a key locking in.

You were now by yourself. But then again it was much better than having to be breathing the same air as the man who just hit you.

You side meets the dirty mattress under you as you hug your knees, seeing as he didn’t give you a blanket to keep yourself warm. You were unable to muffle down your silent sobs, clutching onto your own cheek as it continued to sting. You question… You wonder, why?

…Just why?

°

Ouch… Huh?

You groggily opened your eyes, the feeling of something biting your neck. A wet sensation was followed after and you instantaneously snapped out of your tired trance to grab whatever was in front of you. “Ah– Geez… Relax, will you? This mattress is dirty enough.. Wouldn’t want blood to stain it too..” Childe groaned, his hand groping your hip harshly to make you pause. He pulls his face away from your neck, wiping the saliva dripping from his mouth. “H-hey! Have you not had enough already?!” You screeched and tried to get him off of you but were unable to. “Shut it.” he scoffs, shutting your mouth by forcing his lips onto you.

He slips his hand underneath your shirt, touching every part he wishes. “You feel so divine.. I wonder how you’d feel around me, yeah?” He grins against your lips. His tongue intrudes into your wet cavern, drinking in your moans and muffled noises. The wet sounds of his mouth against yours, showing how desperate he is for your taste.

You whine, feeling Childe’s hand exiting your shirt to enter your shorts instead, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He sighs, pulling away from the kiss, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips. Licking his lips, he brings his face close to you until you are nose-to-nose. 

“Wanna try that out with me, my dear?”

© wiltedivinity 2024. reposting, plagiarizing, translating, claiming authorship or any form of unauthorized use is strictly prohibited. legal action may be taken against violators.

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Surprise. Post Azkaban!Sirius x Mom!Reader

Before leaving the country, Sirius makes a stop to see how his former love is doing. Turns out, you have a daughter who looks strangely like him…

Set shortly after PoA

Part Two

From across the street and hiding behind some trees, Sirius watches your home. He's only been here for a short time, but looking through the windows he's gotten a few glimpses of you and what seems to be your child.

Sirius can’t pretend to be surprised that you moved on from him. Sure, you two had a great thing going on, but there was no legitimate reason for you to remain loyal to Sirius after he went to Azkaban. Just like everyone else, you have no idea of Sirius’s innocence.

You? An intelligent, fun, beautiful woman with your whole life ahead of you? It’s no surprise you found someone else to settle down with.

Your life didn't end just because Sirius’s did. You deserve to live a happy life, even if Sirius didn't get to be a part of it.

But still… no matter how many times Sirius tries to rationalize the situation, he can't ignore the way his chest tightens at the thought of you having a family with another man.

He wants to be happy for you, but it's hard when he feels so sorry for himself.

Sirius gets his first real look at you after about an hour of watching, and Merlin… things haven't changed much. You're still just as beautiful as the day he met you.

Sirius watches, silent and still as a statue as you walk further away from your house and closer to where Sirius is in hiding. Your hair is shorter than he remembers, and perhaps a little darker in color. It looks good on you.

You stop walking once you reach the sidewalk and Sirius assumes you're about to disapparate. Maybe off to work? He wonders what you do now. Hopefully, you're not still working at the Ministry; he knows you hated it there.

Just as you're about to disappear, the front door of your home flies open and a young girl runs out after you, shouting, “Mum! Mum!!!”

Sirius has a hard time focusing on what the girl is saying afterward. His eyes widen and it feels like his heart stops beating.

The girl looks to be about Harry’s age, perhaps a little younger. She looks exactly like you—undeniably so— but there's something else. Your hair doesn't curl like that, and your eyes aren't so strikingly grey.

It can’t be.

Loose curly hair and grey eyes aren’t such uncommon traits. Maybe you have a type and your husband looks vaguely similar to Sirius.

The only thing is… Sirius doesn't see any jewelry on your hands, much less a band around your ring finger. And Sirius has yet to see a man walking past the windows of your home.

…

It can't be.

The longer Sirius looks at the girl, the more he questions if that's your nose or his nose. It looks a little too long to be yours. Those high cheekbones don't match yours either.

The girl looks to be eleven or twelve, and if you were in the early stages of pregnancy when Sirius was incarcerated almost thirteen years ago, then…

Holy shit.

The girl is his. She has to be his. The only way she’s not his is if you were cheating on Sirius with someone who looks just like him, or if you hooked up with someone who looks just like him shortly after Sirius was locked up. Both options seem a lot less likely than the girl just belonging to Sirius.

Holy shit!

Sirius stares as the girl looks up at you and smiles. Her K9s are slightly more pronounced than the rest of her teeth—again, just like Sirius’s!

At first glance, the girl was an exact copy of you, but the more Sirius looks, the more details of himself he finds within her.

He can't believe it; Sirius has a child. A little girl.

Only she’s not so little. She’s at least of age to be a Hogwarts student, and Sirius knows nothing about her. Not even her name.

He doubts you gave the girl his daughter his surname. Sirius Black is widely known as Voldemort’s ‘right-hand man’; it wouldn’t be in her best interest for everyone to think she’s the daughter of a highly-ranked Death Eater.

Sirius sighs bitterly, that heavy feeling in his chest not going away anytime soon. The mother of his child and his daughter think he's nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. A traitor.

He wonders if either of you will ever know the truth, or if his daughter even knows who her father is. Likely, you never told her, thinking it's for the best if she doesn't know.

After a few minutes of talking, his daughter waves you goodbye and starts making her way back to the house. Before disapperating, you call out to her “Estelle! Don't forget to feed the cat!”

She waves her hand in acknowledgment, not looking back at you. “Yes, mum.”

Estelle. Sirius grins in a happy surprise. Latin for star.

Link to Part Two

[immoralkombat]

feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

[reiderwriter]

♣️ To Warm a Lonely Night ♣️

Chapter 6 of That's What You Get

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Prev. Chapter || Next Chapter

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: With a few days of leave ahead of you, you wake up in Spencer's apartment with absolutely no plans to leave. All in the pursuit of regaining your memory, of course.

Warnings: none, but there is one sexually explicit-ish sentence at the end (which may or may not be a spoiler for the next chapter, who knows 👀).

A/N: Ahh! I can't believe we're halfway through! This one is mainly fluff, and I hope you love it because it's building to something more next Chapter tee hee. It's a bit later of an upload today because I've been so busy at work, so please forgive me lol 🙏 And please, please, PLEASE let me know in the comments/reblogs/through an ask what you think about it! It'd would make my week 🩷

True to his word, Spencer provided you with a toothbrush, toothpaste, wet tissues to remove your make-up with, a generous amount of pajama options, and a warm bed. You had shyly accepted everything and readied yourself for bed in a matter of minutes, half of you cursing your stupidity at landing in this situation and the other half of you jumping for joy at being back in the same bed as him.

He was right about there being a possibility that the two of you jumping into bed together - again - could jog some memories for you. The only solid memory you had of your marriage was, after all, waking up the day after. So you’d thrown on the plaid pajama bottoms and oversized sweatshirt that surely must’ve been big on him too, and slunked back into his bedroom.

He was already there of course, folding down the covers to his bed and climbing in, trying to make it seem more comfortable and appealing by removing the stacks of books that were strewn across it.

“Sorry, don’t get much use out of that side of the bed,” he said, noticing your eyes on him at that moment.

“You don’t? After everything you said, I assumed that you had… frequent visitors.” You looked up at his face to gauge his reaction, delighted by the flush of color that greeted you there.

He cleared his throat and turned away, shelving another set of books. “It’s not… I’m not that great at picking up women if you hadn’t already guessed that, Y/N.”

“I don’t know, you managed to get me to marry you in the span of less than three hours, Spencer, so I’d say you’re plenty good at it.”

“That was the alcohol, though.”

“It wasn’t.” You let the thought hang in the air between you, having mumbled it so quietly you weren’t sure if he even heard you. You cleared your throat and tried again.

“I mean, can you imagine if some random guy had tried to pick me up and marry me this weekend? Hotch would’ve had to arrest me. Or worse.” You laughed a little to ease the tension of your sudden almost-confession. What the hell were you thinking, blurting out something like that?

“Thank god you got me, then, right?” Spencer smiled back at you, sitting up on the edge of the bed facing you.

“Yeah. Thank god.” You moved towards him then, awkwardly asking which side you should sleep on, and he quickly moved over for you, letting you climb up into the bed as he returned to the door to shut it and turn the lights off.

You listened to his footsteps as he returned to the bed, pulling the covers up and over himself, trying not to confuse his movements with your heavy heartbeat. He didn’t reach out to you, and so you didn’t reach out to him, the two of you awkwardly facing each other in bed, not touching in even the smallest of places.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

–X–

You hoped that you would wake up tangled up in him, that his arms would be wrapped around you, his legs buried deep between your own. You hoped that his breath would be warm on your neck, that he would take the plunge and give you a good morning kiss, and that he would pull you closer into him, suggesting that the two of you not move for another hour at least.

Instead, you woke alone, the bedsheets still warm as you heard the sounds of running water soundtrack your morning. Spencer was gone, and he hadn’t bothered to wake you.

Of course, this was his apartment, and you knew exactly where it was since your brain had finally kicked into gear two minutes into consciousness, but the overwhelming disappointment had you almost frustrated to tears.

So much for trying to jog the memories of your wedding.

You cautiously climbed out of bed after hearing the shower switch off, following the dying trail of steam to the bathroom just as he emerged from within.

“Y/N. You’re awake, good morning.” He greeted you, almost too naturally for a man wrapped in nothing but a white towel. You stared at him a minute too long, your gaze raking down his body, doing everything it could to deny your brain's pleas to pleases look back at his fucking face, for god’s sake.

“Sorry, forgot to bring clothes, not used to this sharing a space thing,” he said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot a little, before giving you one of those tight-lipped smiles you loved seeing.

“Shit, um, sorry, I’ll just head back to the bedroom.” You start walking in that direction, then automatically change my mind. “No, you need to get clothes, I’ll stand here.” You nodded at that last decision, sticking by it and boring a hole into the floor with your rapid attention to it,

He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair as he passed you on his way back to his own room, leaving you alone with your already sinful thoughts, to gently rest yourself against the wall and convince yourself that you could persist through this temptation.

He emerged a few minutes later, and, with some grace and fucking decorum finally, you looked up at his eyes and started talking cohesively.

“Spencer, why didn’t you wake me? We were supposed to see if this could jog a memory for either of us right, that’s the whole reason I stayed over.”

“Sorry, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Spencer, you have an eidetic memory,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms as you waited for his real answer, blocking the doorway to the rest of his apartment with a stern look.

“Okay, I give up. You just looked too… Too happy. Resting there tucked into my arm. I didn’t want to wake you up, because I’ve seen how you get on cases after you’ve had only a couple hours of sleep and I don’t want to be on the other end of that.”

You laughed at him then, not knowing whether his words were truthful or not, and trying your best not to profile him.

“Would you mind if…Spencer, would you mind if I stayed a little longer?” You grabbed his hand and held it as you said the words, trying not to use the way his body stiffened to inform any decisions you were about to make.

“What for?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“We only have seven days, right? And, let’s be honest, most of them are going to be spent on some case or the other. I was hoping we could spend these precious few moments free from work trying to get our memories back.” You smiled up at him hopeful, squeezing his hand just a little.

“I, um… Sure. I have some tickets to a thing this weekend, though, but I can cancel.” Your heart jumped into your stomach and your face dropped as you did your best to backpedal.

“No, wait, Spencer, if you have plans, that’s okay, I can go home.”

“It was just this stupid book fair thing. It’s okay, I didn’t even have anyone to go with.” You almost laughed at his obliviousness.

“Spencer, it’s not stupid, and now you have someone to go with.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Your wife, now where is it?”

–X–

The book fair had turned out to be an accidentally amazing first date. Which was, you’d realized after driving home to change clothes and freshen up, exactly what it was going to be. A date. Another - accidental - date.

He’d picked you up a half hour later, and together you’d driven the 45 minutes to the fair. It was more of a book jumble sale, a collection of vendors, antique dealers, indie bookshops, and exhibitions coming together to celebrate vintage, used, and second-hand books. Spencer was excited, of course, but you felt like a kid in a candy store, ooh-ing and aah-ing at every special edition, basking in the smell of old books, and desperately seeking out the most obscure titles you could find.

You’d made a game out of it with Spencer, sharing a laugh over titles including “Ducks and How To Make Them Pay,” by W. Cook and “An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting; with Proper Rules for the Exercise of that Pleasant Art,” by Jane Collier. Walking through the aisles of stalls, you let your hand slip into Spencer’s, not letting yourself think too hard about it.

You’d probably held his hand at some point on your wedding night, you thought to yourself, so maybe it would help. Your justifications were unwarranted, though, as you knew you weren’t letting him go until you absolutely had to.

“Spencer, look at that!” You gasped excitedly, pulling him over to a stall decorated in an array of plushies, some old and worn, some newer, showcasing children’s books from the last century. He trailed after you with a stumble, your excitement having pulled him a little too quickly, his long limbs not able to move as gracefully as you’d somehow managed to.

“Oh my god, isn’t this adorable?” You asked him, squeezing his hand a little bit as you perused the titles. Titles you remembered from your own childhood were there: Judy Bloom, the Babysitters Club, and some Enid Blyton. You talked his ear off about each childhood memory you had with each of the books when you’d read them, asking if he’d read them, too.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so excited about books for some reason,” you apologized to the kind-looking old man running the store, shyly flushing at the run-on conversation you’d been having in front of him.

“It’s fine, my dear, isn’t that why we’re all here? To be excited about books?” He smiled as he looked at you over his glasses, and you pulled Spencer further down the table, noticing that as you went further to the left, the books seemed to get older. You spotted it then, wedged tightly between two piles of other children’s classics, but you pulled it out swiftly, still not dropping Spencer’s hand.

“Spencer look! Anne of Green Gables! I loved this book as a kid, it’s been like 20 years since I last read it.” You beamed up at him, and he smiled down at you as well.

“I’ve read it, too, though only a few years back, I’ll admit. I went through a phase of reading a lot of children’s books after Henry was born to see which would be the best gifts to get him.”

“And did you?”

“Oh, yeah. Got him a whole box set, but I’m not sure if he’s read any of them yet.”

“Perfect, then this one’s for me.” You said quickly, before turning back to the vendor and asking him how much for the book. He gave you the price, a reasonable one for a vintage book. Before you could pull out your money to pay, though, Spencer had dropped your hand and pulled out his own wallet, handing over the money before you could even insist he didn’t have to.

“Spencer! You didn’t have to do that!”

“I know. I wanted to.” The look he gave you had your stomach doing somersaults, as you felt the blood race to your face.

“That’s one very sweet boyfriend you’ve got yourself there, my dear,” the old man said, handing the book back over, having wrapped it, and placed it in a paper bag. Before you could stutter out an explanation, Spencer was sending you further into a tailspin with his own reply.

“I’m her husband, actually. We’re newlyweds.”

“Ah, my apologies, I didn’t see a ring, so I just assumed.” You looked down at your left hand then, before Spencer wrapped it in his again. You’d taken the ring off after you’d woken up that first day, and not wanting any questions about it, you’d placed it in your bag and then in your jewelry box when you finally returned home. You had shown it to Penelope though, in a romcom-drunk fit of giggles.

With another thank you, you quickly left the stall behind, this time Spencer being the one to take action and pull you excitedly onward.

“What did you do with that ring?” He asked, genuinely curious. “And where did we even get it?”

“It’s in a jewelry box at my house, I didn’t… I didn’t want anyone asking questions, you know.” You felt a small tension between you then, as you suddenly acknowledged the circumstances of your relationship. You were doing the adult version of “playing house,” and neither of you was sure when the game was going to come to an end.

“And no memories, remember? We probably picked it up on the side of the road somewhere, or maybe it’s a souvenir from the chapel?”

“No, I only caught a glimpse of it, and it didn’t look like costume jewelry or something we could get for cheap.” You looked at him puzzled before an idea came to you.

“What if I send a picture of it to Penelope? See if she can come up with anything for us. I’ll tell her one of my college roommates is getting engaged and she’s bragging about the ring, so I wanted to know what it’s worth?” It was a white lie, of course. You still weren’t sure about telling Spencer about Penelope being your witness, not sure how it would go over with him.

“You think that’ll work?”

“Oh yeah, Penelope’s big on girl drama. I think she actually coined the phrase ‘I support women’s rights and I support women’s wrongs.’”

“No, Y/N, about the ring, do you think she’d be able to find it?”

“Spencer, you’ve worked with Penelope Garcia for over a decade, and you’re still doubting her?”

–X–

True to form, Penelope found the ring for you in under 24 minutes, along with a list of stores in the immediate Las Vegas area where it could be purchased, and a follow-up mention that the transaction was nowhere in either of your credit card histories, so you must’ve paid cash.

Which only begged further questions, because where the HELL had you gotten 30k in cash?

“Spencer, holy shit.” You shouted out as he pulled up to his apartment, the two of you finally calling it quits at the book fair after you noticed the sun was beginning to set.

“What? Did you not want to come back here with me, I can drive you home if you want?”

“No, Spencer it’s not that, it’s the ring. It retails for $30,000, Penelope found it. Where the hell did we get that much cash?”

“Cash?”

“For a transaction that large, we must’ve paid cash, right? I haven’t had any cold calls from my credit card company asking me to watch my back, and I certainly don’t have that amount in my regular bank accounts.”

“Oh, right. Well, we were in Vegas.” He shrugged and exited the car, but something about the words rang in your head a little as you followed him in, and you gasped realizing what it was.

“That’s it, Spencer! We went to a casino, we must have! You did your card trick magic and whatever and then boom! Wedding ring!” You smiled at the discovery as he pushed open the door to the apartment building for you, letting you bask in your discovery.

“It’s not magic, really, it’s just math.” You gave his arm a light punch at the stupid words and followed him back up to his apartment.

“Well, then, I want to do a lot more math with you, Doctor Reid.” You wiggled your eyebrows a little, and he burst into laughter in front of you, having finally reached the door to his unit.

Pushing the door open, he left the doorway empty for you to make your decision. Were you really going to follow him back into his apartment again? After making yourself a temporary guest the night before, and forcing the man to spend the entire day with you, you didn’t want to push your luck, but oh god how you wanted him to invite you to stay and never leave. Is this why people got married?

“After you, Mrs. Reid.” His words made the decision for you, and you stepped over the threshold swiftly, letting his hand on the small of your back guide you.

“Since we had takeout last night, I was maybe thinking I could cook today? That is, unless you wanted to go home?” He muttered the words a little shyly, and you found yourself squirming at his cuteness, pushing down the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“Yeah, I could eat.” Was all you managed before he pulled you into his kitchen and started preparing the pasta dish Rossi had taught you all to make only weeks prior.

–X–

You finished off the pasta quickly and just sat together talking for a while before he returned to the kitchen again for a second and bought out a bottle of wine and two mismatched wine glasses.

“A lecturer got me this when I guest lectured in their class last year, but I don’t drink that much. Do you want to share it with me?” You nodded and grabbed the glasses from his hands, letting him prepare the drinks for you.

“This is kind of like the bar, right? All the books, and now the drinking. It could probably lead to some memories, right?”

“Yeah, it probably could.” He held his drink out and you chimed your glass against his, finally taking a sip as he returned to his seat next to you. At some point, you had migrated from the dining table to the sofa, back in the same seats you’d occupied the night before.

“Let’s play a game,” you said, taking another sip for confidence as he turned to look at you with a questioning stare.

“I have a pack of cards and a chess board, but I’ll warn you I’m not the most fun to play with-”

“Not that type of game, Spencer. I mean like… twenty questions or something?”

“Oh, right, Um, how exactly do you play twenty questions?”

“Is that your first question?”

“Is that yours?”

“See you’re already great at it.” He rolled his eyes at you and shifted himself closer to you on the couch, letting his hand rest gently behind your head. A breeze blew through the room, and you shivered slightly, huddling closer to him, too.

“Okay, so question 1. What’s your favorite book?”

“War and Peace. Or at least it’s the book I reread the most often. What about you?"

“Probably something by Austen. There’s just something about an Austen hero that has me melting.” You let your hand trail up his leg, and you saw him drop his gaze to follow it’s path. “Your turn, Spence.”

“Oh, right… So, what… what is your dream date?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a trip to a cute cafe or… I don’t know, a book fair?” He laughed at that, and you asked your next question.

“Did you think you’d ever get married like this?” You took a deep breath after asking it, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer to that.

“No. I didn’t… I guess I didn’t ever think I would get married. I’ve been alone this long, you know, it seemed that I’d be alone forever, you know.” The words cracked your heart, and you let your hand fall from his thigh to his hand instead. “I’m sure you didn’t so I won’t waste my question on that.”

You laughed a little before answering, “Yeah, I… I didn’t expect it to happen that way. I was picturing more church, white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and growing so old together that we die like that old couple in The Notebook.”

“You want kids?” He asked, almost a little too quickly to be casual about it.

“Yeah, I guess I do. What about you?” Your heartbeat burst into your ears as you let the question sit between you, Spencer considering the question for a while before speaking again.

“I didn’t think about it before… with everything going on with my mom, I guess I was a little afraid about passing on my problems to a small child, but…” He let his head hang for a second, before grabbing his drink again and taking another sip.

“But now what?”

“I don’t know I just… I think it would be really nice. I love spending time with Henry, and Jack, but it’s different when it’s your own, right? Someone to make the world better for.”

“That’s a really beautiful way to put it, Spencer.” You smiled at him, and he matched your gaze, returning your smile. Your game was left abandoned between you then, the questions fizzling out as you just sat, halfway to being in his arms, and looked at him.

“It’s getting late again. And you drank, too, you should probably stay here again tonight.”

“I probably should.”

“And we should probably go to bed now, you never know when we’re going to get called in on an emergency case again.”

“You’re probably right.”

You talked your way around in circles there on his couch, but when you finally crawled into bed together, neither of you feigned the distance of the night before, instantly reaching out to hold each other as your breaths synchronised into shallow breaths.

–X–

Frustratingly though, he was gone again when you woke. You stretched yourself out on his bed, just to be sure, but he was gone. You found him this time in the kitchen, though, making you breakfast.

“Good morning, Spencer.” You walked up to him, grabbing him from behind and letting your head rest on his back, no longer shy with your physical affection. Well, still a little shy. You hadn’t kissed him again yet, and you had no plans to, waiting to see if he’d go that extra step all by himself.

“Good morning. I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, and honestly, that pasta dish from yesterday is the only thing I really know how to do, so I hope you like pancakes?”

“I’m in love with pancakes, Spencer.”

“That’s a weird way to put it, but great.” You cursed yourself and pulled away from him, grabbing some plates from his cupboards for the two of you. You settled down to eat together, and before you knew it, the morning was drawing to a close.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” He asked you, leaning on the doorway to the bathroom as you brushed your teeth.

“Plans? You want… you want to spend today together as well?” The question had taken you off-guard. You really thought you’d overstayed your welcome, but here he was, asking what was next.

“Yeah, if that’s… if that’s okay with you. You still don’t remember much, right?”

“Right. But, uh, I was kind of planning on running errands today. Laundry, grocery shopping, picking up prescriptions. It’s not going to be like yesterday.”

“Well, then I guess we’re running errands. You need to drop by your house to pick up clothes?” You nodded your reply, finally washing the toothpaste from the side of your mouth.

“Perfect. You can get ready and we’ll go from there.”

–X–

A couple of hours later and a drive to the nearest supermarket, you were surprised at how true to his words Spencer was. He’d followed you to the dry cleaners, and helpfully advised you on which items were best hand-washed vs. laundered by taking a look at their material percentages. You’d accompanied him to his opticians, where he picked up the refill for his contact lenses - while wearing the eyeglasses that you secretly found very, very hot. And now here you were, the picture of domestic bliss in the aisles of a supermarket, arguing over which milk you should buy.

“What if we get called on a case? You don’t want bad dairy in your fridge for a week, trust me.”

“Spencer, I’m telling you, I’ll use it. I drink like a liter of tea a day, and I like mine pretty light.”

“Okay, but it’s your contaminated fridge, not mine.” You scoffed and laughed at him again as he pushed the shopping cart from behind you, trapping you between his body and the handle.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” You rolled your eyes at his childish antics, turning around to face him as he leaned closer.

“What? I like pushing the cart.”

“You like pushing my buttons. Come on, I thought you were supposed to be helping me with the errands today?”

“I tried to help. In fact, I offered some very sound advice on which milk to buy, but I was heartlessly ignored, and now I’m pushing the cart.”

“Okay then, Mr. Tragic Hero. Fruit aisle next, please. I’m going to buy enough perishable goods to really piss you off.”

The stares you got in the supermarket were worth it for that small moment of happiness with Spencer, gently tickling your sides as you practically ran through the supermarket with him, not caring that your groceries haul was about to look like an ingredients challenge on Hell’s Kitchen. Or maybe Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares instead.

He was there next to you, and he was smiling. That’s all you really wanted for that moment.

–X–

After a day of errands, pulling up to your house left an almost empty feeling in your stomach. The groceries had been your last stop, but it had taken you almost two hours to complete them just because of the sheer chaos you’d caused between the two of you, your multiple faux-stand-offs over food choices. You’d since argued over instant coffee brands, apples vs. oranges, the longevity of a pack of Doritos, and more. It was probably the most romantic second date you’d ever been on.

He turned off the engine of the car and immediately began grabbing things from the trunk, grabbing paper bags to deposit within your house. He managed to get all of them in his arms before you even unclipped your seatbelt.

“Spencer, let me help, you can’t carry all of that on your own.”

“I can. Just unlock the door, it’s fine.”

“Okay, but if you break something, you’re driving back to the store alone to replace it.” That was all you said as you led him into the tiny apartment you called home.

“You can put the bags on the counter, I’ll unpack everything later.” He followed your directions quickly, then stepped back into the passage, readying himself by the door to leave.

“Thanks for staying with me again today, Spencer. I really enjoyed having company.”

“Me too. Even if…Y/N, even after all of this is finished, do you think we could… do this more often?” He asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you a bit closer to him in the doorway. You let yourself fall into his arms, not caring which of your neighbors was suddenly out and about to witness this.

“I think I’d like that.” Your lips were inches from each other now, and you stilled yourself completely, not wanting any sudden movements to get between you and the kiss you had been begging for silently since Saturday night. He tilted your head up and leaned down, closing the gap as his arms tightened around you.

His lips were sweet, warm with a hint of the sweetness from the morning's pancakes still, and you wanted more of him. But as his lips slid over yours again, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth, your stomach dropped with an intense feeling of deja vu.

All of a sudden you felt his hands on your body, his lips trailing down your neck, his cock buried deep inside of you, and his voice low and husky in your ear.

With the force of your entire will, you pushed him away with the whole weight of your body and slammed the door shut in his face.

You had successfully restored part of your memory.

--X--

🏷 Pt. 1 @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil @shqwqrma

[a-998h]

Fatui x fem!Creator ft.platonic Pulcinella

@tea333love:Hi, can you write an order? You can write about cult! Sagau fatui harbingers, who found out that creator performs in theater in Sneznaya (imagine that there is a theater in Sneznaya) and one day they decided to go to performance of creator and we're amazed by elegance of dance and can you write what happened then? (Fem! Reader and she is 18 years old). (Romantic fatui harbingers, plantonic Pulcinella).

(La Signora, Childe, Scaramouche, and Arlecchino are in this becuase I can, also spoilers for Scaramouche and La Signora lore)

You have been performing in theaters across Teyvat ever since Yun Jin saw your dancing. At first it was just Liyue, but soon word spread of your skills. At this point everyone knows that you're the Creator, and combined with your skills, it was only a matter of time before other theaters around Teyvat wanted you to perform on their stage.

When it reached the harbingers that you're performing in Snezhnaya, they just had to see you perform. So with the help of Panatlone's money, and their status as harbingers, they got premium seats.

The legends and art of Snehznaya painted you as a motherly, mature figure (a milf). Your titles in Snehznaya was королева сверх жизнь, Queen above life, or simply королева, queen.

Your appearance was discribed to them, but it never said how old you were. When the curtains lifted and you were in full view under the lights of theater, you were dressed in traditional Snehznayan ballet outfit with a white under bodice, purple outer bodice, dark blue skirt, silver accents, and red shoes. You were decorated with stage makeup and costume jewelery silver in color with fake moonstones and rubies. When the music started, so did your dancing.

From their seats, they could see how young you looked. Pulcinella seemed to have his focus torwn between you on stage and a few members of the audience. While most of the audience looked at you in awe and respect, a few held... less than respectful looks. Some members of the audience had the gall to look at you with a hint of lust.

The music started slow, you at first only moved you hands. You moved elegantly in tiem with the music. It was like you were in a trance, your yes were open but it looked like nothing was behnd them.

When the performance reached it's end, the theater filled with applause. The harbingers were in awe, they wanted to know you better. Each of them had their own goals in mind. They left theater, planning a time to meet you face to face.

The next morning you are escorted to the palace and to the meeting room of the harbingers.

After that night, your visit lasts a month, in that month a lot happens. Your time is split between all eleven harbingers, so let's get into that.

Pierro

He is a bit cold at first.

It's not because he doesn't like you, he loves you and but he is emotionally constipated

when is finally able to talk to you, he is watching his words as to not offend you

He is stiff, cold but very knowledgeable

He will take you to the palace library, after stealing you from another harbinger

In the library he sits on the couch closest to the fire, sits you in his lap, and then he starts reading to you or telling you stories from his younger years

He will give you his huge ass jacket, rejctibg the jacket is not an option

Il Capitano

He is the silent bodyguard to you, I will hear no arguments

He cares about you, but unlikey Pierro, who is emotionally constipated, Capitano just doesn't know how to properly show his love for you

If you show an interest in military history, or weapons, or anything like that he will teach you whatever it is you want to know

When the more... unsavory folks approach you he just stands silently behind you and stares

They leave, running as fast as they can

That night at the theater he was entranced by your skills

He would ask for you to dance, only for him

Dottore

He is curious about you

We've seen how he is not opposed to performing human experimentation so with you, a supposed god, he has many ideas

He wants to see how far you can go

But, he also wants to know why you "made" certain things

If you say you don't know or that you can't remember, he'll use that as grounds for making you drink "something to jog your memory"

He sees you as a wealth of knowledge that is all his

He does not care about you as a person

He is not allowed to be left alone with you

Colombina

She loves you

You're the picture of beauty in her eyes

Her and La Signora will team up to pamper you

Will sing you to sleep, you just have to ask

She fell in love when she saw your dancing that night, so like Capitano she will ask you to dance for her

I think she has a baking talent, I.. I don't know why she just seems like she knows how to bake

you will be her taste tester for her baking

She cuddles you to sleep, naps, or anytime she wants to

Arlecchino

I...I don't know where to start

She knows you're a god, but she sees you as weak due to your age

She keeps up her calm, sane persona around her

Another person who is not allowed to be alone with you, but she oftens sneaks you out with her

She loves you, like a person loves a favorite possession

She allows the children at the House of the Hearth to interact with you

She kind of feels something in her cold, dead heart whenever you interact with the children

She only allows people to look at you. No one can touch, speak, breath, or even be near you with her around

She teaches the children to snitch on you or distract you if you try to leave without her

Pulcinella

OH MY GOD!

The second he sees you, and sees how young you are

He is now your unofficial grandfather, he will hear no different

He sees it as a personal mission to protect you, even though you are a powerful god

He will try and teach you new things every day you spend with him

Will feed you a lot "becuase you are a growing girl".

Tries to keep all the young harbingers from dating you

While he can't stop Pierro and Capitano, because they're fossils, he will just make sarcastic remarks and glare at them if they get to close to you

He will teach you chess, and he will play with you

Scaramouche

Oh....Oh he is complecated

As we all know, he has a... complex relationship with gods

Let me rephrase that, he has problems with his archon mom

He is the biggest tsundere to ever tsundere

You couldn't waterboard the fact that he loves you out of him

Will give you things he "happened to find" that reminded him of you.

Will give you gifts but pertends that he didn't put any thought into it, but he did

A brat... that's all

If you offer him cuddles he will act like he doesn't want any

If you stop the cuddles, he will complain

He will demand your affection like a cat

Sandrone

She stares, a lot...

I believe she makes puppets and dolls in your image

She takes you to her workshop

Has you stand still so she can compare materials against you, to find the best one that look closest to your features

Will have nice clothes for you to try on

Will use you as a dress up doll

Puts makeup on you as well

Another that loves you as a possession

When will sit you on her lap at every possible time

La Signora

She is one of the few that loves you as a person

Due to her still greving Rostam she isn't very open with you, at first

When she does open up to you, she will almost suffocate you with love

If you aren't on Sandrone's lap, you're in hers

She will share the knowledge she got from her time in the akademiya

I think she remembers stuff from her life as a Mondstadter

She will sing songs, or parts of songs, she remembers

You are the only person she shows her scar to

She'll give head pats, nose kisses, and neck kisses

She will dance with you or watch will Colombina and Capitano

Tartaglia

This man... where do I even begin

He will try an fight you

It's a way for him to see your strength

When he isn't trying to fight you, he acts as a scary guard dog

Will spoil you

Takes you to meet his family

He is extremely possessive of you

Loves you as a person

Will beg you to show off your powers

He marvels at you powers

Brings you something from every nation he goes to

He makes you go along with the lie he tells Teucer

Pantalone

Is the only normal one

Between him and Sandrone, your closet is overflowing

He likes to take you to shopping

If you feel bad about asking for something due to price, he'll buy it anyway

Will buy you stuff for dancing and any other hobbies you have

Has mini fashion shows with you as the model, sometimes Sandrone is there too

Has you sit near him when he works

Will give cuddles, just ask

Likes to spoil you

Thinks you deserve the best because you're a god

[writerpetals]

care for you | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w; ass play, semi-public sex, younger mmc, sugarmama!au (i'm queuing up some posts for this week ~)

What started as nothing more than one night of release for your overworked and exhausted body has somehow turned into more than you ever pictured yourself dabbling into with someone so much younger. Not like your hectic work life that painfully bleeds into your personal one ever allows you time for a relationship, but you’re pretty confident in assuming he doesn’t want as much either.

He doesn’t mind, however, enjoying the lavish life you live the few moments out of the year you’re not working, tagging along with you on trips of both pleasure and business. Spoiling him can’t be helped when he offers such intense pleasure in return, and you find yourself needing him to ease the tension from your muscles and the worries from your mind more often than not.

He flies with you to different countries paid for by you, not hesitating to send your body into the most relaxed state as soon as you board the plane and his hand is between your thighs and his mouth against your neck. The glances and side eyes from nosey passengers in first class bother neither of you , because how could it when the moment he slips his fingers into your panties, you’re clutching your thighs around him and biting your lip to keep quiet.

He’s devilish and sneaky at times, loving to offer a distraction from work because he knows how well you need one. In the cab he can’t keep his hands off of you, and at the hotel bar he teases your thighs beneath your dress while you sip on your gin and tonic. Even a few hours on the white, sandy beaches when you have the day off turns into him slipping between your legs and easing into you as you lay beneath a colorful, shaded umbrella.  Maybe he cares more than he’s willing to admit, and maybe you do as well, so you tell yourself he only enjoys an older woman’s experience and money while you enjoy his eagerness along with his willingness to please. 

In the morning, he barely waits for you to crawl out of bed and shower before he’s wrapping an arm around your body to pull you back in. You should have known something was off when he didn’t even bother to dress himself after awakening, deciding to walk around in the nude while brushing his teeth and washing his face, but you couldn't complain when you’re allowed the view to study the muscles in his body as well as the curves of his ass and thighs on display. 

You warn him you’ll be late for your meeting with the executives you traveled so far to see, to which he can only reply with a groan once he pushes you against the bed and grips your waist. Taking in the sight of your half-exposed slit fresh and clean from the shower makes it hard to care about the dull meeting, and you know it’s only because he becomes too bored and lonely while you’re working that he couldn’t give two fucks if you make the men wait on you.

You exhale a reply of his name, fingers clutching the fresh, white sheets beneath you as he pulls the damp towel from your body so you’re fully on display. “I really… really have to go.” You hardly sound convincing as you mutter the words, and the chuckle you receive in return lets you know as much.

“I won’t take long,” he groans, palms gripping your ass to spread you farther apart for him. Your face buried in the soft linens does little for your attempts at arguing, so you remain quiet and allow him to proceed. The way you begin to ache for him offers no help either way. “I was a bit rough on you last night, baby.” 

The way his tone deepens and the words seem almost forced out in a groan have you quivering before he’s even touched you. Steady, gentle palms soothe the markings he left on you the night before, and even if his words are true in the fact that he was less that careful fucking you because it’s the way you like it, you know his attention this morning is only a distraction so you will stay with him a bit longer. 

“I just want to make you feel good, now.” With another breathy chuckle, he slips his knuckles over your slit, causing you to flinch and attempt to pull away from how damn sensitive he has left you. “Will you let me, baby? The meeting can wait. I just want to taste you before you leave.”

There’s no use in denying him. Not when your body craves his touch. And not when he’s so damn skilled with his tongue it nearly pisses you off at times. He shouldn't know how to make you so weak with the simplest of requests and he shouldn’t know how to make you come better than men your own age, but you chalk it up to his ability to pay attention to your body and his willingness to learn what pleases you most. 

“Yes,” you whimper against the sheets, tugging the fabric hard enough to have your nails scratching your palms the moment he lowers himself with his knees to the floor behind you, feeling his breath against your skin. 

He pushes your hips higher, aligning your ass perfectly in the air for his viewing pleasure, and once his lips press to your skin, the meeting is the furthest thing from your mind. Gentle kisses paint your ass as he takes his time, drawing out the moment because he will be damned if you’re not wet and thinking of him the entire time you’re gone. His hands hold your thighs in place, fingers pressed tightly to your legs as his mouth begins to wander once he’s satisfied he’s kissed away the soreness.

“Please.” It’s a bit shameful to beg him so early on, and maybe even more so because you’re older and should have more control. But as his breath ghosts hot against your center, just waiting for the perfect moment to give in, you can’t help but to become impatient. You ache for him, already beginning to feel the warmth surge and the arousal pool at your entrance. 

With a single lick up your slit, from your mound to your tightened rosebud, your body attempts to lunge forward as your back arches and your jaw slacks. To say he took you by surprise would be an understatement, but luckily his firm grip on your thighs keeps you in place as he repeats the motion. The third time he decides to taste you from top to bottom, he drags his tongue painfully slow over your flesh, lapping up your juices to spread to spread over your ass and mix with his saliva.

You whine his name, trying to push your body into him, but it only earns a dark, teasing laugh before he presses his tongue to your ass. A gasp fills his ears to satisfy his ego, knowing how much you love when he circles the puckered rim extra slowly before tasting you with the flat of his tongue. “Fuck.” You clutch the sheets tighter each second that passes, with your clit throbbing and desperately needing attention while he toys with your ass. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he informs you, each word between a kiss he trails down your slit. Until he reaches your clit and decides to finally give in to have you gasping all over again. He circles the swollen, aching nub with a pointed tongue before pressing flat against your flesh to lap up your juices dripping down your folds. Then he presses his lips to your skin. “I could eat you out all-” Kiss. “-fucking-” Another. “-day.” 

With that, he begins to press open-mouthed kisses against your soaked slit to have you whimpering, with his tongue catching every drop of your juices from top to bottom. The sinful noises of his pleasure never fail to bring goosebumps to your skin as his motions become a desperate attempt at tasting you. You can only imagine how his face glistens against the light as he buries his mouth deeper against your body and with the way he groans against your pussy and ass, you know he enjoys it just as much as you.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he growls once he pulls away for only a moment. “You’re dripping all down your thighs and onto the bed.” With that, he presses his tongue to your mound to catch the arousal trickling down to dampen the sheets. All before he eases his tongue between your folds to massage your clit, earning a cry of his name as you push your body against his face.

He doesn’t reject you, allowing you to control the pressure before your hips are rolling against him and you’re fucking his tongue to relieve the pressure. His groans against your body encourage you to keep going, riding his face as he licks, and sucks, and buries himself deeper between your folds. 

“Fuck,” you begin to whimper without shame, rolling your hips harder against him as you feel the warmth bursting between your thighs, “I-I’m so close.”

He only grips your thighs tighter and encourages you to lean against him, pulling on your legs until you’re pushing yourself from the bed. Your arms extend straight to hoist yourself up and you’re nearly sitting on his face as he tastes you from behind with a craned neck, but the pleasure is too intense as his tongue massages in circles and you’re trembling in his grasp. 

Once the pleasure swells and the first rush of  warmth floods from your center, your arms grow too weak as you collapse against the bed. A shaky cry of his name is all he receives as the bliss surges through you, continuing to shake in his arms and becoming so breathless, speechless, and unable to even pull away as he continues massaging your clit with his tongue. He doesn’t remove his mouth from your body as you come undone, loving how much wetter you become, how much sweeter you taste. 

When the pleasure becomes overwhelming, you reach your hand behind you to push him away gently, seconds before collapsing on the bed as he chuckles proudly behind you. You can hardly keep your eyes open to see where he goes after he stands, hearing him rummaging behind you for a bit but you’re too relaxed to even care.

When he returns, a tap of his fingers against your ass pulls you from your post-bliss state, eyes fluttering open to see him standing behind you with a pair of your panties.

“I-I need to clean up first...” It’s almost as if you’re drunk from pleasure as you speak, attempting to rise from the bed, to which a simple arm around your torso assists you. Thankfully, he’s strong enough for you to nearly collapse against him all over again, earning a cocky grin over his lips in return for his self-proclaimed job well done.

“No,” he simply says, voice stern and it makes your eyes grow wide. Before you can reply, he slips his hand between your thighs to have you gasping and tightening around him. Unfortunately for you, he’s able to shove two fingers in your drenched walls without effort, paying no mind to how sensitive he has left you or the fact that the pressure has you weak in the knees, ready to topple over. 

You whine, high-pitched and so taken off guard.

“Put your panties on, baby,” he says, voice so deep you can’t help but to listen, “so you’ll be wet enough to think of only me the entire time you’re gone.”

And then he finally pulls his fingers from within, leaving you trembling and suddenly craving for him all over again.  With parted lips and wide eyes, you can’t dare look away as he brings his fingers up to his mouth before licking them clean, making sure you will hardly be able to think about anything else during your meeting. 

***

He seems to show up at your work when you least expect it. When the day has been too long and you’re too tired of cursing beneath your breath at incompetent business partners and their horrible ideas. When you’re too frustrated and fed up with having to prove yourself over and over. When all people can see you for are curves and a cute smile and no one really gives a shit about how incredibly smart you are or the fact that you’ve managed to run your own company longer than most of these men can keep wives.

As horrible as it may be, you’re beyond done going above and beyond when everyone else seems to do the bare minimum to get praise. And no one sees you pinching your nose at the start of your headache once you’re able to get a quiet moment behind your desk. No one sees the deep breaths you take to calm your anger from bubbling over at the sheer stupidity nor do they realize how your mind is constantly spinning with innovative ideas and working overtime to not only make a good future for yourself, but your faithful employees beneath you.

He seems to notice the moment he steps into your office. There’s a brown paper bag in his hand and a grin on his lips from sneaking past your secretary. Not that she would question the younger man showing up to your office every once in a while, but you’ve made it clear to him not to make it a habit so rumors don’t escalate. The last thing you need is everyone calling you Ms. Cougar.  

“I brought you lunch!” he says with a proud grin, puffing his chest as he places the bag on the clear, glass surface of your desk and it makes your heart flutter in ways you try to ignore. You can’t develop feelings when it was only supposed to be a form of stress relief from your hectic, busy life. He would only be a distraction, falling in love with his thoughtfulness, his ability to know your moods, his ways at calming your mind and your body. You remind yourself it would be a horrible idea to get wrapped up in the younger boy, so you try to push the thoughts aside simply due to it being such a reckless, terrible thing to do.

At least, you tell yourself that.

“It’s six in the evening.” You can’t help but to grin, and your stomach rumbles, giving away that you skipped lunch to squeeze in another meeting with a moronic business partner, but he already knows you too well. It’s not uncommon for you to forget to eat, which is why he makes these sudden stops to your office when you’ve ignored his texts asking if you’ve had lunch. 

“Well, I brought you dinner, then. You need to eat,” he replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck while the black sleeves of his t-shirt tighten around his bicep to make your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The boy doesn’t even know what he does to you, causing you to cross one leg over the other as your heart pounds away. 

“Eating is the last thing on my mind after the day I’ve had.” You spare him the dirty details of the exhausting meetings and aggravation, but he’s more than aware what you mean when you make such comments.

“Are you tense?” he questions, already making his way around your desk as his boots scuff the dark, wood floor panels. “Need a message?” A wicked smile forms on his lips after asking, and your gaze lowers to see him pulling the shiny, silver-plated rings you bought him during a trip out of the country from his fingers before setting them against the desk.

“I’m fine, really,” you mutter with a shake of your head, but all it takes is one finger held up from his hand to cause you to turn in your chair, allowing your back to face him as your knee presses to the armrest. 

Before you can say much else, his hands fall to your very tense, very tight shoulders, but before he begins his massage, his mouth lowers to your ear. “You should know better than to argue with me, sweetheart.” His sudden, husky tone catches you off guard. The breath against your neck earns goosebumps over your skin, and you can only press your thighs tighter together. 

Though, it’s not his tone or the breath against your flesh that has your heart beating twice as fast, but the nickname he saves only when he wants to make it known he needs to care for you. The first time it slipped from his lips, you had come down sick and he made it his sole mission to nurse you back to health. You thought he was only being sweet on you, until the second time when you had the worst possible day at the office and he made it better by kissing your tears, slipping between your thighs, and muttering the endearment until his heart’s content. From that moment on, you knew it was a sign of intimate affection, and you never questioned him twice about it. Maybe you pay attention to the little details just as much as him, but it would be a terrible idea to admit it. 

You don’t think twice about arguing with him once his hands begin to work over your thin, silk blouse. He digs his fingers into the tense muscles to draw out soft sighs and whimpers, until your eyes are fluttering and you almost forget where you are for the moment. 

“You should eat something,” he says once he gets the opportunity to speak between the noises he's causing you to make. “I bought you a grapefruit salad. Your favorite.”

And in the middle of the bliss swelling you to the brim, you manage to snicker at the comment. “My favorite? Who says?”

“You said the last time you ate one at that restaurant we went to,” he informs you, slightly offended you would even question his knowledge of you and for that, you have to give him credit.

“You mean the restaurant in Cabo? Do you know how drunk I was after having that meeting all day and then I didn’t even make the deal with those jerks? Anything would have tasted amazing, then.” 

“I see,” he hums, continuing to work his fingers into your shoulders, until his grip slips down your arms and back again, sending a shiver down your spine. “Is that why you let me finger you beneath the table before the appetizer even arrived?”

Heat floods to your cheeks at the memory, the details of being beyond worked up and needing release still so fresh in your mind. The alcohol certainly helped, right along with knowing his skilled fingers would put your body at ease within moments. 

“Maybe…” you whisper in return, biting your lip while hoping he didn’t realize how unsteady, how breathless your voice has become as the images flash in your mind, trying hard not to think about his hand slipping beneath your skirt that night, or the way he bit his lip and groaned upon feeling how wet you were. 

“Maybe you need the same kind of attention, sweetheart,” he whispers, once again deep and husky in your ear and it takes a miracle to be able to hold back a whimper when he presses his lips to your neck. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” You try to feign innocence, knowing the last thing you need is someone barging in your office and catching your younger and devastatingly hot man toy getting you off when you should be working. But it’s clear exactly what he means once his hands move to the front of your blouse, slipping lower to pop a few buttons loose. You remind yourself to steady your breaths as you whisper his name, eyes glancing toward the door, thankful the long, glass window is the only one in the office and the blinds were shut the moment you escaped the stresses of the day to try to rid yourself of a pounding headache. 

“Come here,” is all he says, not bothering to answer the question before guiding you to your feet with a hand beneath your elbow. You follow his instructions, rising from the chair, but before you can call his name once again, he lifts you against the desk after spinning your body around to face him. His palms remain on your hips, thumbs caressing lovingly into your sides as his gaze meets your own. Suddenly, his eyes seem darker, full of desire and passion and you know there is no use fighting against his ways of care and attention. The younger man is stubborn, yet he knows what you need, when you need it, but it would definitely be a terrible, terrible idea to take that fact to heart, of course.

You simply call his name again, not wanting to argue, yet not wanting to get caught. But he ignores you, hands rising to release the last, few buttons of your blouse until your silky, black lingerie is exposed. He takes one look at you before he can’t hold back a groan, eyes studying the curve of your breasts, your bare tummy, and all the way to where the hem of your skirt rests against your skin. Palms slipping up your sides allow for his thumbs to reach your hardened nipples visible even beneath your bra. He teases the erect buds for a moment, brushing the pads of his thumbs gently over the surface and you can’t help but to push your chest into his grasp. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he exhales, and his lidded eyes and bitten lips a second later convince you to do just that. There’s no use worrying over getting caught or someone finding out enough about your personal life to spread gossip. Not when his mouth presses against your own or his tongue slips over your bottom lip to have you allowing him entrance. 

A soft whimper vibrates his skin, causing him to groan and deepen the kiss with his hands lowering and pulling you close by your waist while his tongue massages yours in the sweetest, softest of motions. Your hands rise to press palms against his broad, strong chest, feeling his muscles tighten beneath your touch while you inhale deeply to take in his intoxicating, yet familiar aroma of a citrus and pine cologne you gifted him a few months prior. It doesn’t take long for his hands to wander as he pulls away with a nip of his teeth against your bottom lip. Fingers lowering to your thighs to hike your skirt higher has your skin flushing beneath his touch. And when you shimmy side to side to allow him to push the fabric up to your waist, you shiver under his gaze as he stares down at your matching, silk panties on display. 

Without saying a word, he concentrates on his task of hooking his fingers into the band of your panties. Once again you shift side to side until he peels the thin fabric down your legs and past your heels, leaving your center bare, open, and glistening for him after parting your legs. With a lick of his lips, he never pulls his eyes away while pressing his thumb to your mound, watching you shiver beneath his touch once he drags his thumb down your slit and back again. 

A hand lowers to his growing length beneath his faded, denim jeans, and it doesn��t go unnoticed by you. All you can do is look at the outline of his cock beneath his pants while melting into the way he touches beneath your legs. He takes his time, not bothering how it looks to anyone else to disappear into your office for what feels like forever, brushing his thumb over your folds to coat his flesh in your arousal and spread it to your clit once he focuses his attention on the swollen, throbbing bud.

“You still seem tense,” he comments, a smirk on his lips you notice the moment you glance toward his face. Then you’re drawn back down to his cock once again, watching him tend to his erect length with a careful palm, but he never stops teasing your slit with his thumb.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve ever done this in my office,” you manage to reply, a heavy exhale slipping from your lips once he begins circling your clit with his thumb.  “With all of my employees and my assistant right outside.”

“Nervous?” he asks with a chuckle. Clearly he has no qualms about pleasuring you anywhere, anytime, and the thought sends a chill straight down your spine. Before you can reply, he manages to twist his hand around so his knuckles brush against your folds. The sensation has you threatening to clasp your thighs around his hand, but you remain steady, although your eyelids flutter to a close while taking another deep breath. 

“M-maybe,” you mumble, trying to focus on your breathing and your words, but the feeling of his thumb against your clit while his fingers tease your entrance has you breathless and unable to speak a proper sentence. 

“Why?” You don’t even need to look at him to know of the cocky smirk planted on his lips. His tone says it all, as he asks and as he taunts you further while circling your entrance with his index finger. “Because they will figure out you’re dating me, or because you don’t want them to know how good I make you feel?”

The urge to comment on his use of the word ‘dating’ diminishes the moment he slips a finger inside of you, earning a gasp as he plunges the digit in deep before curling toward your g-spot. Your thighs tremble around him, gaping and pushing your hips into the motions of his thumb caressing your clit and his index finger burying deep within your walls. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, head rolling back with a bitten lip a moment later. 

“God, you’re already so wet, dripping against my fingers,” he groans, more to himself than to you, and without warning, he pulls his finger from you only to insert two digits this time. Your walls tighten around him, hips rocking against his hand, against the pleasurable motions while your clit aches and throbs beneath his thumb and your body becomes so hot, flushed from the sinful actions. “You really needed this, didn’t you, sweetheart? Relax and let me make you feel good.” 

You do as he says, deciding to wrap both arms around his neck to pull him closer, lips colliding with lips and tongues exploring one another in the best way the two of you know how. You can’t help but to whimper into the kiss, feeling him bury his fingers so deep before curling the digits inside of you, urging the noises from your lips while his thumb tends to your clit in gentle, steady circles. 

You whimper his name once you pull away from his lips, “don’t stop.” A hand resting at the back of his neck falls to grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin as soft moans and desperate whimpers fill your office. 

“No longer nervous, sweetheart?” he teases you, pushing his fingers deeper, harder within you while circling his thumb quicker. “I can feel you tightening around me. Does it feel that good?” His words are only fuel to the fire burning deep and hot in the pit of your stomach. The flames lick in sudden desperation between your thighs, seering with temptation and it causes you not to care about anyone else but him and you. 

“Y-yes,” you gasp, trembling against him while burying your face into his chest. The heat rises, swelling between your thighs and it consumes your body quicker than you would like. The bliss that follows has the room spinning and you can’t help but to tighten your thighs around his hand. A roll of your hips against his motions allows him to see just how much you enjoy the pleasure, urging him to continue, to pump his fingers deeper, harder, and to caress your clit faster, wild with no mercy. “D-don’t stop. I’m-I’m-”

Your words fall to a deafening silence as the first wave of bliss rolls through your body. Your walls contract around his fingers buried deep inside of you as you come undone, trembling and whimpering his name. Your juices leak onto his hand, coating his flesh in slick, sticky essence and the only sounds that fill the office are the ones emitting from between your legs as he continues to finger you through your high. Your hips roll wildly against him, becoming greedy for more before it’s all too much and you can only grip his hand to stall his motions.

It takes all of five seconds to register how quickly he got you off. Heat rushes to your cheeks, but it’s not the kind of heat reserved for desire or pleasure. You’re suddenly too shy to look at him, realizing you absolutely did need the release he offered and it shows with every moment. From your tense muscles, to your arousal dripping just for him, and even the speed at which he made you come, you can’t deny he knows the perfect ways to unwind your body and mind when you crave it the most. 

“No need to be shy now, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle, hand leaving his length straining against his jeans to press a finger beneath your chin. Your eyes meet his own, noticing the way his lips curl in a devious smirk a second before he eases his fingers from between your thighs. Immediately you feel emptier than you would like without him, but your eyes pop the moment you witness the digits rising to his lips as they part and he sneaks his fingers inside his mouth. He doesn’t allow you to turn away as he sucks them clean, enjoying the taste of you coming on his fingers and all you can do is bite your lip while watching him lick every last drop. 

“You should eat something,” he repeats once he pulls his fingers away. Though, eating is once again the last thing on your mind, but for different reasons. You can hardly breathe properly from the sight you witnessed, becoming a mess all over again watching him taste the remnants of your climax on his skin. Eating hardly seems important, especially when your thighs continue to shake and your walls are still spasming post-orgasm. 

“And you should,” you begin, but are quickly interrupted by the devilish, younger boy’s lips crashing into your own, earning another soft, gentle whimper against his flesh before he pulls away just as fast, “sit back.” 

“Sit back?” The puzzled look on his face has you giggling, all before you press two, shaky palms to his chest to push him down into your chair. 

“Sit back and let me repay the favor.” Now it’s your turn to have a smirk curling on your lips, watching his eyes grow wide and his jaw slack as you drop to your knees before tugging at the button and zipper to his jeans. To make matters worse — or better, for him — you get the courageous ideas to pick your panties up from the floor before easing his cock out of his black, cotton boxer-briefs. With the thin, silky fabric in your palm, you grip him tightly, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head as a deep rumble emits from his chest in satisfaction.

Two can play that game, you think, knowing he’s not the only one that deserves attention, especially when he treats you so well and tends to your every need. Work and silly rumors be damned. You love watching the bliss fill his face as you slip the panties and your palm up and down his length, all before leaning closer to swipe your tongue across the slit of his tip. 

“You’re already so worked up,” you tease him after licking up the precum from the head of his cock, noticing the way he grips the armrests with every prominent vein bulging before he bucks his hips for more. “You must need this.” He doesn’t find humor in the words as you do, enjoying the way the silk feels against his cock as you work his length while flicking your tongue against the tip. 

“Don’t,” he exhales, then groans and pushes his hips toward your mouth once again, “don’t tease me.” 

“You’re so hard, baby,” you continue the verbal torture, working your palm faster against his cock, silk panties easing up and down his skin to have him hissing in return. You can’t help it. You love watching his face twist in pleasure. The way his brow wrinkles has warmth flooding your body all over again. The way he bites his lips has you pressing your thighs close together. And his tightened jaw and unsteady breaths encourage you to go further. 

“Of course I am,” he breathes, trying to focus on speaking even with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, “making you come in minutes has that effect on me.” 

He has a point, silencing all teasing as he uses your own embarrassment against you. But his chest swells with pride and you realize you can’t be too worried when he knows how to treat your body in the way you like. In return, you’ve learned a few tricks to use against him as well. You remove your hand for a moment to cup his balls with the silk panties still in your grip, mouth lowering down his length while your tongue massages the underside until he hits the back of your throat. Then you're pulling away in a desperate need for air. His groan at the sensation fills your own chest with pride, daring to take him in again until his hand reaches for the back of your head.

“God, baby,” he huffs, hips bucking into your mouth once you pull away to tend to the tip of his cock, his fingers entangling into the strands of your hair. “Your mouth always feels so amazing, fuck.” His praise never fails to have you feeling so full, so satisfied in a way no man has before. You enjoy filling him with bliss, watching his jaw tighten, hearing his groans and huffs, and feeling him fuck his cock into your mouth. 

Your tongue swirls around the tip before your lips enclose over his length, eyes never leaving his face. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, groaning through the grip upon feeling you suck lightly on his cock, tongue massaging the prominent vein beneath as your hand works his balls with panties still in your grip. Noticing his Adam’s apple bob before he’s gasping and panting tells you he won’t last much longer. Not after watching you get off and now getting his cock sucked as a thank you.

Your mouth lowers down his shaft once again, head bobbing slightly while enjoying the noises spilled from his lips. Little huffs and groans turn into curses beneath his breath until he can hold back no longer. His hips jut forward, meeting your mouth and you can’t help but to whimper against his cock. His muscles tense seconds before he grows quiet, holding his breath as the first, few drops of his cum spill into your mouth, and you accept his release willingly. Your hand rises to grip his length once again, pumping every last drop onto your tongue so you can suck, and swallow, and have him gasping for air when you fail to stop even as he begins to come down from the bliss.

Licking him clean, you notice his eyes flutter open before he studies the sight of your tongue trailing his slit and around the tip. His nostrils flare as he takes a few deep, much-needed breaths, chest heaving and tense beneath his tight, black t-shirt. When his hand falls from the back of your head, you finally pull away from him, licking your lips clean before the corners twist in a proud smirk. 

Once you rise to your feet after he’s adjusted himself and his pants, he’s quick to stand and pull you into his arms. And again, your heart is fluttering and your stomach is performing backflips as he leans down, pressing his lips to your skin in a sudden, yet sweet attack of soft, gentle kisses to have you giggling. You quickly push him away with hands on his chest before you can get too wrapped up in him, deciding to fix the stray strands of hair he disheveled in the heat of the moment, and he takes it upon himself to begin buttoning your blouse.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, grin forming on his lips.

“So?” you repeat, looking away with warmth swelling in your cheeks.

“Are you finally going to eat, now?” He stares down at you with determination in his eyes, and all you can do is huff and nod, turning to grab the brown paper bag he brought for you.

“Yes, I’ll eat.”

“Good,” he replies, and has no problems playfully smacking your ass and stepping away to make it around your desk before you can retaliate. 

And it would be a terrible idea to think twice about his stubbornness in wanting you not to skip meals, because it would be horrible to come to terms with the way your heart swells if you think about how much the two of you actually care for one another. 

***

No matter how much you toss and turn beneath the sheets in an attempt to become comfortable, or how tight you shut your eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep. Even though your body is exhausted from a long work week and you assumed you were ready to unwind for a relaxing weekend, your mind won’t shut off as it spins with constant worries. Reminders of important dates and scheduled meetings pop into your thoughts, preventing you from even coming close to drifting off to sleep regardless if your body aches for a good night’s rest. 

You turn over in your bed to face your alarm clock, reading the bright red numbers that tell you it’s just a little past midnight. You wonder how you could lack energy all day, but become wide awake as soon as your body climbs into bed as you release a frustrated groan. Maybe you’re just too busy lately, finding it to be a hectic time of the year before summer where you need to land deals and get your projects aligned to begin more work in the fall. Oh, how you could use another vacation in Cabo. If only time would allow.

As you ponder over the thoughts and images of the white beaches and blue ocean beneath a warm sun and clear skies, your phone buzzes next to you on the nightstand. The light flicks on, nearly blinding you in the dark room as you reach for the device, spotting his name pop up on the screen once your eyes adjust. 

“Hello?” you answer in a sleepy tone, instantly hearing commotion in the background before his voice fills your ears with words that are a bit slurred. 

“Baby,” he groans into the receiver, tone deeper than his usual soft, gentle words would allow. A bit needier, too, and you’re aware he’s been drinking. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” you tell him honestly with a sigh following the reply. “You’ve been drinking. Where are you? Do you need a ride?” You instantly wonder if he’s only called because he’s drunk and stranded somewhere. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s gone out with friends and called when he wants to sleep off the alcohol at your place. The thought has you feeling warm, and an ache begins to grow between your thighs at just the sound of his voice. 

Maybe work really has been too busy, you think. You can’t even remember the last time you saw him, let alone spent a night with him, or even just an hour or two to catch up. 

You hear mumbling in the background a few seconds before the quiet chatter in the distance fades, assuming he stepped outside of whatever bar he went to with friends. “Mm, what are you wearing?” he asks with a tipsy giggle just to tease you, and you can’t help but to grin while you shake your head.

“My pajamas. I was in bed, but having a hard time sleeping.”

“Oh? The silky, red pajamas I really like?”

You sigh and then release a chuckle as you look down at your simple t-shirt and pajama shorts you wore to bed, wanting to be comfortable the moment you arrived home and changed into them. “Where are you?” You can just imagine the grin on his face while thinking about the revealing lingerie, and the fact that he already pictures you in the red camisole and matching panties you wear sometimes just for him tells you what’s really on his mind.

“I went out with the guys,” he tells you after releasing a huff. “Do you need me to come over and help you get to sleep?” You can hear the smirk in the words while trying to ignore the way a surge of desire shoots straight through your body as you press your thighs together. 

“As if I haven’t fallen for that line before.” That last time he made such an offer, neither of you slept much. Though when the memories pop into your mind of spending the night together, you know it won’t take much convincing to agree.

“I miss you,” he says after you take too long to give in, voice a bit lower, losing the confidence alcohol normally gives young men like him. Maybe he isn’t that tipsy. “It’s been a while… you know, since we’ve been together.  I want to see you.”

Though he and you are far from a couple, and the two of you have never even come close to mentioning a relationship other than the one time he slipped up and mumbled the word “dating”, you can’t help but to feel your chest tighten from his words. You’re aware he gives you space because of your job and busy schedule, and you don’t put in any extra effort making plans because he knew getting involved with you was only something to do in your free time when you desired company. Take a few trips, splurge a little, and enjoy one another’s bodies was all either of you had in mind.

So you aren’t sure why you feel guilty listening to him tell you how he wants to see you. Not only that, but how much he misses you, and as your body begins to ache and the warmth of desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach, you realize he’s not the only one.

“Okay. You can come over,” you finally give in. “But you and your friends better not be driving if you’ve been drinking.” You adopt a stern, motherly tone, which makes him chuckle.

“We’ve only had a few drinks, but I’m calling a cab,” he promises you while you smile listening to him laugh. “I’ll be there soon.” 

How much time you have to prepare yourself before “soon” arrives depends on which bar he visited with his friends, but you assume it’s probably not much considering your condo is in the heart of the city. Quickly, you push the covers from your body before jumping out of bed, taking one look at your comfortable pajamas before deciding to ditch them. You never told him what you were wearing exactly, and it wouldn’t hurt to offer a more enticing view the moment he shows up.

It has been a while, you think while you flick on the bedroom light, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you exchange simple PJs for a champagne-colored nightgown with small straps over your shoulders and lace covering your breasts. You can’t help but to grin as you slip it over your otherwise nude body, feeling a bit more confident and hoping to surprise him. Even if it is a bit unlike you. Your previous partners were never worth the effort, you remember, not finding any of them putting forth the extra work to woo you, and after a while you grew bored of them. 

With him, however, you often find being with him exciting. A thrilling experience to leave you wanting more, hoping for the next rush of pleasure and the solace of his strong arms you find him offering without hesitation. It’s probably why you have kept him around for so long, though sometimes you wonder if he will grow bored of your arrangement before you do. 

The thought has the butterflies disappearing as your stomach twists with worry, but only for a moment before there’s a light knock at your door. Grinning, you leave the bedroom to answer the door in nothing but the revealing lace and silk, but he has already punched in your password for the keypad lock by the time you reach the spacious, open living room to allow him entrance. 

“I was beginning to worry,” you tease, looking over his large, black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing as he slips off his sneakers, then to his grinning lips and glossy eyes peering down at you in your nightgown. “You took a while. I thought you might have found a cute girl at the bar to go home with instead.” 

He frowns at that, and you’re not sure why you even said the words yourself. After all, he and you are far from exclusive. You’ve never mentioned to him whether you care if he sees anyone else under the terms of your arrangement, and in fact, when you thought about it before you never did mind the possibility as long as he was available to join you on trips, or take care of you on those bad days when you needed his company. Maybe it’s too late at night, and you’re exhausted, needing some reassurance even though it’s so unlike you. He shakes his head after shutting the door behind him, hearing the click of an automatic lock before you’re being wrapped up in his strong arms. 

“Don’t say that,” he tells you, all before his lips press against your own. A quiet whimper vibrates his skin to cause him to groan as you taste a small hint of the liquor still lingering on his tongue. He pulls away to allow you a breath, his hands falling to your sides to caress your hips with gentle fingers. A second later, he’s licking his lips and grinning once again. “Why would I want to be anywhere but with you? Especially when you…”

His words fade as he takes in your lingerie. You watch his eyes fall to your breasts covered in soft lace, and he licks his lips again. Surely he notices the way your nipples harden beneath the revealing fabric with need as an overwhelming heat washed over you the moment he stepped into your home. His hands continue to caress your sides, as if he’s itching to touch all over your body. Blinking a few times, he finally collects enough composure before his thoughts run wild, meeting your eyes once again. 

“Yes?” you finally ask, biting your lip to keep from grinning. It’s no wonder his effect on you is so sudden, causing the ache to deepen and the desire to rise in a surge of heat flooding your cheeks. The way he looks at you, drinking in the sight he finds irresistible brings your confidence back, making you feel silly for making such a comment, even if it was only to tease him. It’s clear from his eyes and body language, the way he never takes his gaze off of you to how he can’t keep his hands to himself, he means every word he says. 

“Did you put this on just for me?” He raises a brow as his lips twitch in a cocky smirk, something that makes an appearance when he’s had a few drinks. 

“Of course not, I went to bed like this,” you tell him, grinning. “All alone.” He arches his brows while taking another look at you, as if he can see right through your lie.

“Well maybe we should fix that.” His tone deepens just as his hands wrap around your body to reach your ass, offering a playful squeeze to earn a giggle from you. His mouth dips to yours a moment later, lingering against your lips and groaning into the kiss as the heat floods your body. His hands on your ass pull you against him, earning your arms wrapping around his neck. When he pulls away from your lips, he creates a trail down your jaw, reaching your neck to press kisses just below your ear, and his voice drops even lower as he begins to whisper. “You wouldn’t mention me with other girls if you only knew about all the things I was thinking of doing to you on my way over here.” 

With that, his hands squeeze your flesh tighter, slipping the hem of your nightgown up until his palms warm your sensitive skin. Gulping, your eyes shut, focusing on his lips pressed to your neck and his hands on your body, feeling your legs shake with urgency.

“Oh? Like what?” you ask, wishing your voice was more steady as the syllables tremble with each word. Damn you for waiting too long to see him, you think as your hardened nipples brush over the soft lace with your chest pressed to his own. You’re already so worked up from his words and the way he whispers with need in your ear, and his lips pampering your neck and his hands teasing your ass do nothing to help. 

“Hm,” he hums when he pulls away, and the cocky smirk returns, “make you feel good. Worship you and make you come, but I guess I can show you better than I can tell you.” 

Before you can reply, he has you backing up to your bedroom. His lips find yours once again in between guiding your body, messy, desperate kisses shared between the two of you and his hands roaming every inch he can reach. He raises one palm to cup your breasts, the other resting on the small of your back as the two of you take careful, but urgent steps to reach your bed. Your tongue skims across his bottom lip to earn a groan. He brushes a thumb over your tight, erect nipple to have you pulling away in a gasp. And a second later, your body hits the edge of the mattress, feeling the coolness of the sheets against your warm skin as you ache with need. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he groans once he has tugged his sweatshirt over his head to toss to the floor. “I swear I could kiss you all night.” Your eyes fall to his broad chest after he helps your body to rest against the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows while he lingers over you. Your gaze travels from the curves of his muscles that remain tight and tense, to his belly button and then the view of the band of his black briefs peeking out behind his jeans. Now the sight before you has you licking your lips once you notice the bulge in his pants, completely at the younger boy’s mercy and whatever thoughts that were swirling in his mind on the way over to your place. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” you tell him with a shy smile a second before he kisses your lips once again, feeling a bit more vulnerable than you’re used to as he stares down at your awaiting body. 

“Mm, but not your lips,” he says when he pulls away. His kisses lower to your neck for the second time, and your head tilts back to allow him access. He takes his time, pressing his soft lips to your heated flesh, savoring the way you feel against him as well as the little gasps and huffs of breath when he touches your most tender spots. “I love kissing your neck.”

“Yeah?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your eyes flutter closed. God, how he can be so attentive and gentle, taking his time as if he would spend forever like this with you. You admit it makes you feel special in a way no one has made you feel before. As if you’re something so precious he needs to cherish. The thought earns a racing heart as his lips find their way to your collarbone. 

“Mhm, and your chest… these fucking amazing tits…” Just as he begins to kiss down the valley between your breasts, his fingers hook into the flimsy straps of your nightgown, slowly pulling the revealing lace down until each aching, hardened nipple is exposed for him. He takes a moment to admire the sight, as if his breath is caught in his throat just like the first time he laid eyes on you. In your mind you remind yourself it’s the alcohol, even if your heart begs to disagree because he told you he didn’t have much to drink, but he doesn’t give you time to ponder over the reasoning before his head dips down once again. 

A gasp falls from your lips the moment he presses a lingering kiss to one breast, right over the tight bud to earn an arched back. The heat swelling between your thighs burns with desperation as he kisses you again, all before his tongue caresses your flesh in a slow and steady circle. He traces your nipple, leaving remnants of his own saliva over your flesh to earn a chill down your spine when the cool air hits your skin, and then he moves to the other. Repeating the motion of teasing your breast with a few gentle kisses before his tongue tastes your body, you can’t help but to moan his name while your fingers disappear in his hair.

He groans as soon as you pull on the strands, lingering for a moment while kissing between each deserving breast, giving both the attention they need. As he moves lower, he pulls your nightgown with him, beginning to press his lips down your stomach while headed for your belly button.

“I love kissing here, too,” he tells you, feeling him grin between the words as his mouth tends to your body. Another whimper slips from your lips, feeling the rush of desire mixing with the heat rising and the ache deepening between your thighs. God, you know you’ll be dripping if he continues to take his time in such ways. Though he never fails to give you exactly what you need, and from your conversation earlier of you having a hard time sleeping, you assume he considers this to be the remedy. “Do you like it, too?”

He asks the question just before leaving open-mouthed kisses around your lower stomach, earning another gasp when you feel his tongue ease against your skin.

You exhale his name, eyes closing as you try to regain control of your breaths, “you know I do.” 

“Good,” he simply says, finding your reassurance boosting his confidence. For a moment, you don’t feel his mouth on you. With hesitation, your eyes finally manage to flutter open in time to see him pushing the hem of your nightgown higher so it rests loosely over your hips. The cool air ghosts over your hot flesh, sending another chill down your spine as he takes in the sight of your thighs spread open before him. He licks his lips before placing a gentle palm on your thigh, and you assume his tongue will finally relieve the ache at your core, but he leans closer to only brush his lips against the inside of your knee. 

You’re taken by surprise, but you don’t mind. His kisses make up for the moments he spent without you. He makes it clear, taking his time to kiss you just like he said he wanted and your heart swells at the thought of this being what he wanted to do to you after so long. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he tells you between kisses down your leg, reaching your ankle as he holds you gently behind your knee. Then he kisses the top of your foot, causing you to giggle as he grins, brushing his thumb over your toes. Even though it tickles a bit and earns more giggles, you allow him to do as he pleases. “I like the color you chose,” he comments on the deep purple of your nail polish that matches the color on your fingernails, causing your heart to swell over the fact that he notices all the little details. He pays so much attention.

He rests your leg gently against the bed before moving to the other. Like before, he creates a trail of soft, sweet kisses from your foot to your knee, deciding not to stop there as he tends to your inner thigh. Open-mouth kisses are left against your skin as he nears your awaiting center, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable as he takes his time worshiping your body, just like he said he would. 

You whimper as you feel his breath against your slit.

“Hm?” he hums in question once his mouth presses against your mound. The sensation earns a shiver through your body before warmth floods your skin, overwhelmed with the anticipation, so eager for the pleasure he offers. “Do you like it when I kiss here?” he asks right before lowering his lips down your slit, softly kissing your flesh, over your clit, reaching your entrance for his tongue to dart out and lick a slow, steady line upward.

You gasp, back arching, legs shaking as they threaten to close around him, until he grips your thighs tight with two sturdy palms. The feel of his hot, wet tongue against your flesh ignites a fire in your core, making you aware that he is the only release to put out the desire building within you. “Please…”

“Answer me, baby,” he demands, but there’s still the gentle playfulness in his voice as he speaks that always manages to calm all of your nerves, putting you at ease and making the world stop around the two of you. “Do you like it? Because I love kissing you here the most.”

“Yes… I love it,” you exhale in a heavy breath, the room spinning from the way his lips tease your slit as he tends to your body. 

“I love kissing your pussy like this, especially when you get so wet for me.” With that, his tongue eases over your clit in a quick motion before his lips enclose around the bud, adding action to the words you already knew to be true. A quiet whimper escapes your lips, fingers shaking and gripping the sheets beneath you, hips rolling as you become greedy for release. “But I love it more when you watch me taste you like this.”

He repeats the motion with a flick of his tongue, kissing your most delicate areas to drive you wild. With intentions to have you on edge, he brushes over your clit with just the tip of his tongue, sending little bolts of electricity to the pit of your stomach that blossom into warmth throughout your body. Another whimper of his name leaves your lips, this time urgent, breathless. 

“Will you watch me?” he asks, catching you off guard for a moment. Your eyes flutter open, looking down at the sight of him kneeling on the floor before you, face between your thighs as he blows air over your hot and needy slit. “Will you watch me while I make you come?” 

How could you ever deny a request like that? Especially when he stares up at you, waiting for your reply with those beautiful eager eyes of his. You swear you could get lost in them, finding nothing but comfort and security within them. His lips glisten with a sheen of your arousal from teasing your slit, grinning as you once again prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of the pleasure he’s so eager to give. 

“That’s good, baby.” He caresses your thigh with one hand while the other slips between your legs. A second later you feel the pads of his fingers slip down your slit, reaching your entrance to tease in circles. The messy sound of your juices fill the space between the two of you, listening to how aroused you’ve become as he stares down at the sight with a bitten lip. “Mm, I think you’re even wetter than before. Does it excite you that much to watch? Do you like seeing my face buried between your thighs?”

Before you can answer, he leans closer to press his nose against your mound, inhaling the aroma of your arousal just as he eases a finger inside of you. His eyes meet yours while his lips brush your skin and he buries the digit deep within your walls before adding another.

“Yes,” you finally manage to answer him in a breathless whisper, “of course I do. Please, don’t stop.” 

He flashes another cocky grin with devious glint in his eyes seconds before pressing the flat of his tongue against your flesh, licking another stripe up your slit to leave you quivering. Your hips move with his motions, begging for more, needing release from the amount he’s teased you. He repeats the motion, licking ever so slowly up your slit, from where his fingers are buried deep in your entrance until he reaches your clit, drawing out slow circles against the swollen, aching bud. A gasp spills from within you as your head falls back. Burying his fingers deeper within you, he curls the digits to have you crying out his name just as he begins massaging your clit with his tongue, taking his time, tasting you, working up your body even more than before. 

“God,” you begin to whimper, wanting to squeeze your eyes shut tight to give into the pleasure, but with his gaze focused on you, you don’t have the nerve. You never look away with his face buried between your thighs, tongue circling your clit, fingers deep inside of you as you tighten yourself around him. He groans against your flesh, letting you know he is savoring the taste of your flesh and the way you drip onto his fingers, creating a mess as he eats you out. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

You’re breathless and hot and your body buzzes with a million nerves on fire thanks to him. The tension tightens between your thighs as he hums against your flesh once again, and finally you break your concentration as your head rolls back. A sudden gasp fills the room the moment his lips press to your slit and he sucks ever so gently on your clit, messy, wet noises mixing with the sound of you moaning his name in pure bliss. 

You call his name in a strained whimper leaving your tongue, so desperate for release while you push your body closer, holding yourself up with one hand behind you. The other reaches to entangle the strands of his hair between your fingers, tugging as your hips roll against his mouth and the way he pumps his fingers into you. “God… I’m getting close…”

You try to warn him as the pleasure burning hot builds with every second he continues massaging your clit and fingering your dripping cunt. He groans again, this time out of satisfaction from feeling you grind yourself against him, becoming greedy, needing the kind of release only he can offer. 

“Come for me, baby,” he demands of you the second he pulls his mouth away, replacing his tongue with his thumb pressing to your folds, caressing your clit up and down, back and forth. “Come on my fingers, baby. God, you’re so wet and squeezing around me so tight, I know you’re close.”

The raspy, strained tone speaking the words urges you closer to the edge. He encourages you to let go as your body feels more alive than ever before, giving in to the pleasure as the first wave of warm, comforting bliss washes over you. A gasp falls from your lips as a warning, riding out the ecstasy with your hips rolling against his hand and your thighs shutting around him tight. The surge of pure, red hot pleasure reaches from your head to your toes after swelling between your legs, and before you know it, you’re trembling and pushing his hand away from your most sensitive area, overwhelmed with your body falling to the bed. 

“Did I ever say how incredible you are?” Even with your eyes closed, you can tell from the words he’s smirking. Then you feel his weight shift against the bed and his lips meet your temple a moment later. He lingers for a few seconds before he leaves you, and your eyes flutter open to see him pulling open the top drawer to your nightstand near the bed in search of the newest pack of condoms he brought the last time he visited. 

By the time he retrieves one foil packet from inside and tosses the box back in its place, you have your breaths under control even if you’re still throbbing between your thighs from the pleasure. However, you never pull your eyes away as he undresses, starting with tugging the button to his jeans and pushing them down to his ankles, followed by his briefs. You take in the sight of his erect cock with a sharp breath, realizing how patient he has been though he has remained painfully hard from pleasuring you. 

He returns to the bed fully undressed, wrapper in hand that he tears with one swipe before rolling it down his length with urgency. “Come here, baby,” he finally says after tossing the ripped wrapper to the side, settling on the bed and reaching for you to climb onto his lap. 

As you follow his lead, you slip your nightgown from around your waist and down your legs before the silky, thin fabric falls off the bed to land on the floor. Then you straddle his lap, just like he told you to, wrapping hands around his neck while he reaches to grip your waist. His touch is gentle, yet he guides you before aligning the head of his hardened member up to your entrance.

“Come down, baby,” he tells you with a soft tone, yet there’s desperation hidden in the words. “Let me make you feel good again.” 

You don’t miss the way his words in the moment hit you harder than normal. You blame the distance between the two of you after weeks of ignoring desires to be with him thanks to work. Your body remains on fire, needing him, his care, and his touch, and as you sink yourself down onto him, it all comes crashing down at once. He holds you close as you  shiver, taking him in your body while he presses lips to your chest, your breasts, anywhere he can reach to show you the affection you didn’t know you were craving until now. 

The moment his cock disappears completely inside of you, your thighs continue to shake as your nails leave marks against his neck, but he only groans at the feeling he’s missed so much. He kisses your lips as you lean closer to him, feeling his arms wrap around your body while you linger in the taste of his skin mixed with your own pleasure on his tongue. 

“I have a confession to make,” he suddenly whispers in a breathless tone the moment he pulls away from your mouth. Your eyes grow wide before your brow furrows, looking down at him as if he picked the worst possible time to spring something on you.

“Now?” Of course, it seems like the worst time when you’re sitting on his lap, entangled in one another with your bodies ready for nothing but pure bliss. He chuckles and leans closer, holding you tighter while pressing a quick peck against your jaw. Your hips can’t help but to move when he kisses you like that, nearly forgetting the words he spoke until he releases a heavy sigh.

“I know I’m younger and you... you might be embarrassed by being with me, but—”

“Embarrassed?” Once again, your brow is wrinkled and you stare at him as if he’s talking nonsense. Your hips stop moving, though your head spins with not only the worries of where he’s going with the sudden conversation but the feeling of him buried deep within you. It’s not until he smirks and gives your ass a little love tap with the gentle tips of his fingers do you begin rolling your hips against him again, not being able to help how good he feels inside of you. You pause, sighing his name, closing your eyes in a mixture of confusion filling your head and pleasure filling your body. “—that’s not it at all. I just… work a lot. I have to focus on the company, you know. I think you deserve to be with someone better. Someone that can give more than I can.”

“Better than you?” From his tone as he asks, it’s clear he thinks of the idea as absurd. You have to admit it makes you feel special, needed, desired and as he begins to move his hips beneath you to match your motions, you release a quiet whimper while he continues to make your heart swell with his words. “There’s no one else I want but you.”

You gulp, becoming lost to the bliss as your bodies move as one. As he holds you. As his arms remain around your body and as you find so much comfort within them, just like always.

“I know we only keep eachother company when we need it, but—” His voice lowers until he stops speaking, and the tightness in your chest returns. No, you shouldn’t be feeling guilty. Not like this. Not when you’re both getting what you need from one another, just like you agreed on from the very beginning. “I love being with you like this. I love being with you in any way, whatever you need that to be. I care for you, and I want to care for only you.”

And the tightness in your chest coils even tighter until it snaps, making your heart pound against your ribcage and you aren’t sure whether you want to cry or kiss him because of his words, or maybe you want to do both. You continue rocking yourself against him, filled with pleasure in the midst of your emotional confusion and it all becomes overwhelming until you aren’t sure what to say in response.

You whisper his name while leaning forward, pressing your forehead against his as he pumps his hips beneath you, keeping hands on your body and holding you in place. “That feels good. Don’t stop.”

“Mm, yeah?” he questions, the confidence returning in his voice while he pleasures you, noticing the desperation in your words. “Do you wanna come again?”

You can only nod, closing your eyes before your emotions get the better of you, leaning in to kiss his lips, and then you whisper a simple “yes” to tell him you want more.

It’s the only reassurance he needs, reaching down between your bodies to press his thumb to your clit to earn a gasp from your lips. “You know, you shouldn’t ignore me for so long,” he teases, but something in his hesitant, quiet tone tells you there’s a hint of seriousness in the words. “I always want to make you feel good like this. I want to give you whatever you need.” 

It’s not the first time he’s said such things, but you always assumed he told you what you wanted to hear in the heat of the moment. Now, as he holds you close and kisses you tenderly to ease all your worries while giving you pleasure, you wonder if it’s something more than just useless words. You always assumed he only enjoyed what you could offer him — paying for his clothes or rent, taking trips together, even handling his tuition for his last year in college before he graduated — while you convinced yourself you enjoyed his company and wanted to return the favor for spending time with you. Though those thoughts turned into not spoiling him to repay him, but wanting to take care of him the way he takes care of you in his own way, and wanting to see him just as happy as he makes you.

Plus, who else would you spend your money on? When you work so hard but take no time to build personal relationships, there are times when you wonder if it’s even worth anything. Though those thoughts seemed to disappear when you met him, and the relief of not having to deal with answering to anyone in a relationship or deal with insecure men worrying about making less money than you made you all the more comfortable with the situation. Having fun with him was good to take the edge off when work was stressful, but now the guilt has your chest aching from not only hearing him tell you how much he enjoys being with you, but for you finally coming to realize how much you care about him, needing him when you wish to find comfort in his arms and confide in him when things get difficult.

The reality comes barrelling down on you as your pace quickens, grinding your body against him as the moans spill from your lips, a few curses beneath your breath mixing with the way he groans in bliss. You try to push the thoughts aside and focus on the pleasure, focus on his lips against your skin while listening to the groans building in his throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, tight and tighter as the seconds pass and the heat of absolute bliss fills between your thighs. With his thumb still circling your clit, applying more pressure just to hear the noises you make, you know you won’t last much longer. Not with him buried so deep inside you, making your head fuzzy as the emotions run wild, your confusions disappear, and your heart and body both come to terms with how much you need him. 

You cry out, face twisting in pure ecstasy as the heat bubbles in the pit of your stomach before rushing to fill every inch of your body. You collapse forward, leaning all of your weight onto him as he returns both arms around your body, hips moving between your thighs to pump himself into you as you ride out your orgasm against him.

He continues slowly moving beneath you until you catch your breath once again. Once the room stops spinning and you stop asking yourself how you got so lucky to find someone like him, you push yourself away with a small grin, looking until his eyes to have him stop moving entirely.

“Lean back,” you tell him in a whisper, biting your bottom lip when you see him smirk and follow your instructions. “I want to make you feel good now.” You steady yourself with hands against his tense stomach, feeling all the curves of his muscles as you begin rocking yourself against his cock still painfully hard inside of you.

He hisses as you tighten your walls around him, slipping up until he’s almost out of you, then sinking back down ever so slowly. Your confidence is earned with every roll of your hips, watching his head tilt back as his jaw tightens, a deep, desperate groan building in his chest.

“God, baby,” he exhales, reaching to grip your hips so you’ll move faster and give him some sort of release. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“You think you don’t do the same to me?” you tease him, giggling while repeating the motion of sliding off his cock and back down again just to see his body tense. 

“I know I do,” he admits with a smirk that disappears the moment you swivel your hips in a circle just to earn a gasp from his lips. “I do, but I know you fuckin’ like it.”

“I do,” you chuckle, biting your lip and never taking your eyes off of him as you ride him. Slowly at first, drawing out the same kind of teasing that he offered you, until you pick up pace to relieve him of the tension filling his body. Your hips move faster, loving the way he holds on tight to your waist. The breathless, desperate noises he begins to make fill you with a certain satisfaction you won’t find anywhere else, gaining even more pleasure from giving as much to him in return. 

“God,” he cries out, cursing a bit beneath his breath before his body tenses all over again. A few more seconds of rolling your body against him has him coming undone, finally finding release he pumps a few times between your thighs, milking his own cock and spilling every drop until sweat trickles down the side of his face and he’s hissing when he’s grown too sensitive inside of you. 

You slip off of him with ease, staring at his strong, yet breathless figure beneath you for a moment, drinking in the sight of him completely spent and looking ethereal against your sheets. His body shines with a sheen of sweat and you know he’s exhausted his energy, mostly due to pleasuring you, but you both know it was well worth it. 

His chest rises and falls with his eyes closed as you reach to clean him up, gently pulling off the condom before rushing with it and the ripped wrapper to the adjoined bathroom to dispose of. When you return, his eyes are open as he takes in your naked body climbing onto the bed to lay against his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you just so he can hold you next to him. 

His fingers brush over your exposed back, putting your body at ease even though your mind still wanders over his previous words. 

“What would make you think I was ever embarrassed being with you?” you ask out of nowhere, and from his sudden sleepy mumbling, you’re aware you’ve taken him by surprise.

He sighs before he begins explaining himself, voice quiet and tone uncertain. “Well, you try to hide me when I come to your work.” He chuckles, and your cheeks burn because you know he’s right. “You never let me send you flowers, or do nice things like that. You tell me it’s because you don’t like them, but I think it’s really because you don’t want anyone to know they’re from me. And you have these charity functions, and different events, but you never want me as your date.”

“I—” You have no excuse as you listen to his explanation. You know he’s right, though you wish you could say he wasn’t. If you’re being honest, you would love to go to events or be proud you had someone so caring stopping by your work, bringing you lunch, or even on special occasions like birthdays or even Valentines day, receiving flowers from him you could brag about, but it always seemed like so much more trouble explaining your relationship a million times instead of just keeping your private life private. “I’m not embarrassed. I could never be because, well, you’re incredible, too. And I… I’m really sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he assures you as you lift your head from his chest to look up at him. When he notices, he grins and motions for you to come closer, wanting your affection in the form of your lips against his own. For a moment, you kiss him to rid him of the worries this time. Even if he plays it off like it’s not a big deal, you’re certain it must bother him if he mentioned it in the first place. “Like I said, I know what we have is special… in more ways than one.”

“It is?” you question, just to hear him tell you.

“Of course. With our arrangement, and how I feel about you.” 

You bite your lip, hesitating to ask, but you gain the courage to do so anyway. “And how do you feel?” He looks away for a moment, his hand still tracing patterns on your back. The longer he takes to answer, the more curious you grow. “I don’t mean just taking care of me or being there when I call, but really, how do you feel? I need to know, because—”

“I do really care,” he blurts out, interrupting you and his wide eyes tell you it took a lot of courage for him to admit the words. “Like, really care. Not just for our arrangement or because you do nice things for me but… well, when you said that about being with someone else, about me finding someone else, it made me wonder if you would do the same. If you would be with other men and not be with me.”

Oh, he’s jealous, you realize. Thankfully he isn’t a jerk about it, and the fact that he’s having a discussion with you about how he feels instead of treating you differently because of it has your heart swelling. He really does care. He really does want to be with you. 

“I haven’t been, if that’s what you mean,” you tell him honestly. It’s not like work has given you any free time, and if you had it, you’re confident he would be the first man you would call if you needed company. “Not since I met you. I haven’t been with anyone else.” You never wanted anyone else, you tell yourself, but you don’t add the comment. 

He sighs, as if a weight has been lifted, but he remains quiet. 

“And… I don’t want to be, if you’re curious about that as well,” you tell him, meeting his eyes before noticing him trying to stop himself from grinning with pride. 

“You don’t?” he asks, and you shake your head. “I don’t want anyone else, either. I just want… I want to be with you.” 

He’s said it before, but now the words seem to mean so much more. He isn’t just talking in the moment, or taking trips, or being affectionate and physical. He wants to be more than just an arrangement, more than just a phone call away and a date and time to be together and then you’re back to your own lives. No, he wants you. Just you. Only you. 

There are a million butterflies in your stomach as you consider the thought, then you curse at yourself for acting as if you’re a teenager again. You can’t really be blamed when you haven’t felt something so real in so long. After all the years of working on your business, being alone, being lonely, and now he is before you with nothing but adoration in his eyes and words that you didn’t know could mean so much. How could you deny him? You swear you don’t think you could ever tell him no, not even now.

“It might be selfish of me,” he begins, but you quickly interrupt with lips colliding against his own, pulling him closer with a hand around his neck, and he doesn’t hesitate to hold you against his body. His hands begin to wander like it’s the first time he’s touching you, and the feeling of being so desired has warmth blossoming in your chest. 

“I want that, too,” you say with a gasp, pulling away from his lips. “I… want to be with you, too.” The urgency in your voice as you blurt out the words assures him you feel the same. The widest smile crosses his face, and he can’t help to pull you in for another kiss.

The first of many now that the two of you have said what’s on your minds, allowing your emotions to run free and give your hearts what you both desire. You need one another, to care for each other, offer company and someone to confide in, and be there for one another without it just being an arrangement. And in the moment, you have his arms to hold you as the two of you slip beneath to covers, feeling his fingertips trace circles against your bare back while you fall asleep against his chest, finally getting that good night’s rest you have been missing out on for weeks. 

[breezybangtanbebe]

Mine: JJK💋

A/N: an oldie from my WP Oneshot series🥰 might be slightly unedited because I pulled it from the archives. Forgive the typos por favor..

Tags: JungkookxReader,established relationship, possessive boyfriend Kookie 😋, Halloween party themed, public sex, teasing, edging, raw sex, creampie 😌✨

4.3k words

"Hold up.....that's what you're wearing?"

Jungkook stops midstride as he stepped away from the steamy bathroom, the small towel shifting quickly underneath his hands as he dried his damp hair. Water still dripped down his bare chest and torso, collecting in the dips of his abs and naval. His bath towel that was barely clinging to his waist shifts as his dick stiffens at the sight of your exposed skin.

You were standing in front of the wall-sized mirror beside your vanity, touching up your make up and fluffing your hair, which laid in full wavy coifs all around your head and down your back. You didn't glance over at Jungkook at the sound of his question, but a part of you knew exactly what was going on in his mind.

The two of you were attending Jimin's yearly Halloween party at his family's lake house just outside of the city. Since freshman year of college, this party was a regular thing, gaining more and popularity as time went on.

Costumes were optional, ranging from minuscule to extravagant. And the two of you tended to ride that middle line when it came to what you wore to these functions.

Well, more so you.

Jungkook could wear a brown paper bag as a costume and still turn heads. Something that before dating him was much less annoying. You stifled your distaste for what Jungkook had set out for tonight. Mainly because it was hot as fuck.

Your boyfriend's normal aesthetic consisted of dark colors, loose-fitting, and a bit emo. But tonight he was going for a bolder look.

Blood red pants that hugged his buff thighs, a matching loose blazer lined with patterned silk and print button-up that you knew would NOT be buttoned up.

He'd always had an amazing physique and filled out whatever he wore. Something you had a love/hate relationship with since making things official. And by no means were you unnattractive. You just preferred to play it cool with how you dressed as to not attract unwanted attention.

But this year, you figured it was time for you to switch it up as well.

"Hmm?" you murmur in response to the question, leaning closer to your reflection to check your lashes. You then planted a gentle hand on the mirror for support, extending your back and deepening your arch to give Jungkook and eyeful of your plump curvy backside from where he was still standing off to the side. He gawks at your voluptuousness for a few seconds before blinking away his thoughts and snapping out of it.

"Don't 'hmmm' me. Turn around." Jungkook steps up behind you, pulling you by your elbow so that you faced him. You huffed stubbornly as you turned on your heels and looked up at him with a full-on pout.

"Whaaaat Kook..." you whine, but your boyfriend isn't phased. He only examines your outfit, glancing over your shoulder at the mirror to see the way your dress stopped just below the curve of your ass cheeks. You unconsciously reached back tug at the hem to pull it only a fraction lower. Jungkook smirks but the expression doesn't meet his eyes when returns his gaze to you.

"I thought you said you were dressing up as a witch..." he quirks a brow at you.

You looked down at your outfit as if you hadn't picked it out yourself and frown innocently.

A witch, indeed you were.

Your skin-tight black dress clung to your body perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve on your somewhat petite body. The sleeves were long, wide at the opening, and hanging down from your wrists at a point. Seeming ordinary from behind, disregarding how short it was, the front of the dress was the real focal point.

A deep plunging neckline, stopping just above your navel, exposed the smooth skin of your cleavage and sternum. Thin black strings were woven through tiny holes lining the v-neck, creating diamonds up to your bust.

"I am. See?" You point to the witch hat a black pair of tall thigh-high heeled boots laying on the floor near the door and Jungkook follows your finger with his eyes. His jaw drops are the shiny leather and he does his best not to drool at the visual of you in them.

"Well...Don't you think this ...costume...is a bit much? I mean...My friends are gonna be there and..." he stammers, pausing as he returned his gaze to you.

"Aaaand..so are mine. What's your point?" you tilt your head and bat your lashes, making Jungkook clear his throat. He takes a look at the back of your body again in the mirror then stared down at the woven laces cutting down your front and between your breasts and drags his teeth over the pink flesh of his inner bottom lip.

You smirked.

"My point is...don't you have a dress that's longer than that? One that covers your ass and tits a bit more?"

You don't even attempt to stifle your scoff at his words, taking a tiny step back to look Jungkook up and down. Which might have been a mistake considering he was still naked and incredibly tempting.

But you held your scowl as you continued.

"Did I say anything about your costume last year? Or now? What the hell are you supposed to be anyway?" you fold your arms over your chest.

Jungkook narrows his brow and shrugs before pointing to the bed, where his outfit was draped over the comforter.

"I'm a vampire...see?" pointing with emphasis at the set of fake fangs placed next to the collar of his blazer. Your eyes follow his hand and you roll your eyes at the tiny white fangs.

"And last year was different. Last year, you weren't mine..." Jungkook pulls your gaze from the bed with his tone as he continues with a pout.

"Are you saying you don't like it what I'm wearing?" you say and Jungkook snorts, reaching up to rub at his nape with a conflicted expression.

"Babe.....is that a serious question? It doesn't matter if I like it or not. I don't know...I just don't want you to be uncomfortable...."  he drops his hand and steps up to close the gap between you, glancing over your shoulder again to stare at your ass.

When you notice the crease of uncertainty in his expression, you let out a sigh.

"Well.....would you be uncomfortable if I wore this?" you gazed up at him. Feeling your eyes, Jungkook tears his away from your reflection.

"Huh? What?...no...Im just saying.." he stammers, his eyes still flitting back to the mirror at your outfit and you can't help but be amused by his distracted features.

You knew you were playing with fire. But tonight was supposed to be fun. So after allowing him to oggle you for a few more seconds, you turn around to face the mirror with a smirk. Jungkook watched you fluff your hair, smudge your dark lips together, and cup at your cleavage to make sure everything was as it should be. Then you locked eyes with his and shrugged.

"Then I'm wearing it. Hurry up and get dressed. We're already late...."

As you turned to walk away from the mirror, you yelp in surprise when you feel Jungkook yanking your arm back, turning you and pressing you against the glass forcefully.

"Jungkook what are you...ah.." your voice trails off into a moan when you feel the front of your dress being lifted. Jungkook nudges at your foot with his, making you spread your legs and grant him access to the apex of your thighs.

Your breathing hitched when you felt his fingers grazing the thin fabric of your panties, the tip of his middle finger drawing a line over the slit of your lips teasingly.

"You don't think...I'm insecure? Do you?" his voice drops an octave, almost to a rasp, and your bottom lip trembles as you struggled to find your words.

"Hmm?" Jungkook questions as he lifted his hand to let it slip under the elastic and down beneath the lace. When his hand makes contact with your sex you gape at the feeling.

"N..No..." you stammer as Jungkook rubs your pussy gently, not trying to focus his touch on any particular area just yet.

"Good...because I'm not...because I already know this..." he pauses as he presses his middle finger down over your clit, creating that pressure and friction your boxy craved.

"...is all mine. You know that right?" Jungkook says slowly, matching the pace of how he rubbed your swollen bud with intent.

You braced your hands at his strong shoulders, moaning softly in response, encouraging Jungkook to up his efforts.

"Mine?" he repeats, leaning closer to kiss your lips tenderly. He pulls back to catch your reaction to his touch, dipping his fingers through your slit to lubricate his actions over your clit over and over until your mouth gapes.

You knew he was waiting for you to respond...

But who could talk with a hand stuffed into their panties like that?

His finger repeated the teasing action on your clit and whimper softly, making Jungkook smile.

"Wear whatever you want baby...Just remember who you belong to,"  he says softly, leaning in briefly to press his lips to your forehead. As he did, you were barely aware of his fingers abandoning your clit until you felt them gliding past your entrance, plunging deep inside of you.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion, letting your head tilt back to hit the glass as Jungkook trailed feather-light kisses down the side of your face and neck, his fingers curling inside of you as he rubbed at the rigid wet flesh.

"This is mine?" he murmurs against your throat, parting his lips to draw his tongue over your pulse, already getting in character for tonight it seems. His teeth graze your skin and your knees start to weaken at the pace of his fingers.

"Mmhmm" you hum in response, pressing your lips together to keep from crying out. Your breathing quickened and your eyes began to roll as you felt your fuse beginning to burn out. The familiar heat building deep inside of you, the tingle of sensation signaling the nearing of your release.

Jungkook chuckles softly as he bit down on your neck and sucked it gently as his fingers began to move faster against your spot until he could feel your walls clenching hard around him, almost pushing him out as you came on his hand.

"That's my girl..." he hissed as you cried out, shaking and digging your nails into his shoulders as his fingers slowed inside of you.

Jungkook slowly pulls his hand away and lifts his head to catch your blissful expression.

Red cheeks and glossy eyes.

Smeared black lipstick beyond the line of your mouth from biting your lips.

You were so perfect to him despite all of it.

He glares down at you with fondness and adoration, his freshly scrubbed skin glowing a smooth tan underneath the lights of your bedroom, and the ever intoxicating scent of his body wash and shampoo fills your senses. You resist the urge to bite your lip as your eyes skimmed over the smooth marbled flesh of his chest, only inches away from your face.

"You're....an..asshole..." you murmur as you panted. Jungkook grins wickedly as he stepped away, brushing his wet hand over the towel at his hips. He bites his lip as he looked down at your trembling knees and dark panties, which were completely soaked through and dripping between you spread legs.

As you widened the gap to keep your dress from getting wet, Jungkook backs away still grinning as he began to dress. He pulls his underwear up beneath his towel, tossing it aside before reaching for his pants.

He cuts you a brief look as he dressed and smirks.

"Looks like you'll have to take those off....."

Jimins house was packed. Cars lined the street and driveway and music could be heard all the way down road. It was a good thing they were deep in the woods, otherwise, there would have been a plethora of noise complaints plaguing the local police station.

The two of you entered the large house hand in hand, greeted happily by mutual friends and classmates. There were many new faces among the familiars, many people not in actual costumes. The looks of wanting and approval of Jungkooks "costume" didnt go unnoticed by you. But neither did the gawks and stares of appreciation for your curves in your dress go unnoticed by your date.

He played it cool though.

Jungkook's behavior wasnt too peculiar as the night progressed. Sure he stayed on your ass majority of the night, dancing closely and holding you by the waist or clutching your hand possessively. But you didn't mind the attention. You absolutely loved it when Jungkook got like this.

He was absolutely the jealous and possesive type but in a healthy way. He never stopped you from being you. But he also had his own ways of coping with it. And he intended on letting you feel how much the attention your costume was drawing was effecting him.

The fact that he knew you still werent wearing panties didnt help that either.

As Jimins house grew more and more crowded, and your feet were beginning to feel sore from dancing and standing in those heels, you and Jungkook eventually found large plushy love seat in farthest corner of the living room.

You were seated comfortably between Jungkooks legs, your back to his front, vibing out and mingling with friends as they passed.

After a while, as the alcohol really began to settle in, you found yourself nestling against your boyfriends hard chest and mumbling along to whatever song was playing.

Jungkook held you close, cradling you in his lap, rubbing at the exposed skin of your thighs gently as his buzz deepened.

"i looove this song.." You groaned out suddenly as the musc changed and a sultry guitar began strumming and the smooth vocals filled the wide space.

Jungkook lifted his brow as you pushed up from his chest to sit up and let your feet touch the floor.

You slowly began dancing from where you were perched on his lap, humming the melody drunkenly and winding your hips in slow circles to the beat. You felt Jungkooks body stiffen slightly beneath you and you smiled inwardly at the feel of his hands slowly coming up to grip you at your waist.

"Hey Beautiful.....what are you doing...." Jungkook says to you, his chest vibrating against your back as you continued to grind back against his lap.

"Babe....." Jungkook he sighs in your ear, a warning in his voice evident as you reached back to touch his hair, still snaking your body to the beat.

"Dont think you can tease me baby..." you hear and feel warm against your cheek as Jungkook leaned into your touch, gripping your hips and letting his hands slide over your thighs and back to your waist.

".....and dont think I wont fuck you right now....in front of everyone....Im not that drunk..." his husky whispers make you bite down on your lip, mischief sparking in your eyes and excitement strumming in your chest at the thought.

You looked around at the many people only a few feet from where you and Jungkook were tucked away. Sure the music was loud, the dim lighting and smoke was concealing them enough. But anyone could walk over to the couches to sit. Any of their friends could come over to talk. At any moment.

That alone was enough to turn you on even more. The idea of getting fucked in front of everyone and the possibility of getting caught had you clenching with need and you already knew you were beginning to drip because pf the alcohol.

Fuck it.

You ignored him as you kept rubbing your ass over him, knowing exactly what you were doing. Teasing him in small circles with your hips and letting your hair sway over your back. Seducing him with your curves and shameless lapdance as if no one was watching.

This only went on for a few seconds until you felt Jungkooks body relax, his hands at your hips gliding back to tug at the back of your dress. You gasp when you feel his warm hands on your bare ass, squeezing at your pliant skin as you continued to move.

Jungkook shifted behind you, lifting his hips just enough to unbutton his pants and push the front of his underwear down to free himself.

Your breathing hitched when you felt how hard he actually was, almost pulsing beneath your heat. Jungkook eased back in the seat, his chest heaving at the feel of you sliding the face of your pussy over his shaft, slicking his length with your wetness.

"Youre so fucking wet baby..fuck..." Jungkook murmured as you slid over him, the tip of him brushing against your clit and entrance with every movement.

You whined at the delicious tease , your hands braced on the arms of the chair as you rocked your hips back and forth. You lifted up slightly  and Jungkook takes that as his opportunity to grip himself at the base, lining the head of his dick up with your slickness and rubbing it against you gently as you moved.

Seeking permission to enter.

With hooded eyes, you glanced around at the party still occurring around the two of you. Everyone seemed completely distracted, drunk or high and under the haze of the atmosphere. Nobody even paying any attention to the horny couple in the shadowed corner of the house.

So slowly, you sank yourself down on him, a low groan and hiss of satisfaction escaping the both of you at the feel of finally being connected. You pressed yourself back until your bare ass was flush against Jungkooks pelvis. The stretch inside of you was welcome, your walls already quivering and trembling around him. They ached for more. They ached for stimulus. They ached for movement.

So you obeyed your body and began to wind your hips again, rising a few inches and sliding back down.

"Fuck..."Jungkook grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight at the feel of you taking him, your body swallowing him and enveloping him with your warmth. Out of reflex, Jungkook thrusted upward to meet your stroke.

You couldnt stifle the moan of surprise at the feel of Jungkooks tip hitting hard at the very back of your desire. It almost hurt but the pain quickly subsided when you felt Jungkook shift behind you.

The chair begins to recline a bit, allowing Jungkook to lean back enough so that his range of motion was extended. And just when you were about to continue riding him, he holds you still by the waist and starts flexing his hips up into you.

Jungkook fucks you deep but agonizingly slow, stroking your body to the soothing rhythm of the song drowning out your moans.

He felt so good, too good. And you bowed your head in an attempt to hidd your face from those in front of you. But you didnt hinder your moans of pleasure as you tried your best to fuck back against Jungkooks deep strokes.

Jungkooks bottom lip stung from his bite, the skin trapped between his teeth as he focused all of us strength into his core and legs as he rammed into you. His hands were digging into your hips, squeezing you and holding your body in place as he chased your high. You were so close, your walls clenching him in and your head falling back as you cried out.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and your vision fell out of focus as Jungkook hit your spot with ferocity and it only takes a few more strokes for you to explode around him.

You felt Jungkook sitting up to wrap his arms around your waist, still moving inside of you but more staccato as he relished in the feel of your cresting orgasm.

You felt his shallow breathe at your ear and your head lolls weakly to lean back against his as Jungkook slipped in and out of your walls.

"Mine?...This is mine?" His husky tone sends a chill down your spine,adding to the overwhelming combination of sensations already rushing over your flushed skin.

You moaned softly in response, biting your lip and tightening around him as if that were the answer and Jungkook groans low in his chest as his strokes became stagnant. He held you close, trapping your body against his as he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You felt the warmth of his seed coating your walls and another shiver hits your when you feel Jungkooks lips at your ear. His breathing was heavy and his mouth was hot. His teeth nibbled at your lobe softly before he parted his lips to speak

"Kiss me.." he exhales and you immediately turn your head, craning your neck back to lock lips with Jungkook sloppily.

He slowly loosens his arms around you, letting his hands slide back to hold you at your waist as he kissed you. His tongue tasted like green apple jolly rancher and tequila, rolling and twisting with yours, humming low in his throat.

Your walls contracted around Jungkook reflexively when you felt his hand circling your throat gently, coaxing you and leading the kiss as he softened inside you.

The air surrounding the two of you felt thicker, every sound and movement suspended in a place apart from where you were. In this corner, in the house full of people..

The two of existed in a little bubble of bliss on the couch in the shadows. Kissing each other tenderly and passionately, wrapped in Jungkooks strong arms as you leaned back against him.

As if it were instinctive, your eyes open to notice someone approaching the corner and you break the kiss just your little bubble of love is popped by..

"...shit...Taehyung! Hey!" you blurt out, forcing Jungkooks eyes to open wide.

Taehyung steps up through the smoke ,a red cup in hand and his eyes hooded in his half assed Joker costume and stops right in front of the loveseat.

"Tae..Bro...whats up?" Jungkook sits up, repositioning you on his lap and pulling your dress down as much as he could. The movement makes you even more aware of the fact that Jungkooks dick was still inside of you, trapping majority of his dripping cum from drizzle out of you as you both looked up at a drunk and oblivious Taehyung.

"You guys are so fucking cute...its gross" he chuckles, tipping his cup up to take a sip. He takes a long draft of his drink and swallows before continuing.

"Anyway...Jungkook! We're setting up for a round of beer pong in the back. How bout it? Me and you vs Jimin and Hobi..." he slurs loudly over the music.

"Cool. Yea...We'll be right out..." Jungkook yells in response, masking his annoyance seamlessly and Taehyung nods. He shoots you a knowing wink before turning away and youre eyes widen.

He didn't know what had just occurred over here....did he?

You dont have much time to ponder over the thought though.

As soon as he disappeared among the crowd, Jungkook was lifting you from his lap and guiding you to stand, still holding you at your waist. The moment his dick slipped out of you, you pressed your thighs together as tight as you could.

The walk to the nearby bathroom was comical, the two of you shuffling closely with one in front of the the other. Both sheilding each others wet and soiled areas until you reached the privacy of the bathroom.

After doing the necessary things one must do after spontaneous raw couch sex, you were standing in front of the sink assessing your appearance as Jungkook stood wide legged nearby over the toilet with his head back.

"Well...This dress is done for." you huff at your reflection, the seat of the black fabric stained with sex and release. Jungkook lifts his head and gazes over at you and grunts in amusement as he flushed.

His eyes fell to the back of your dress that was not only stained and wet, but parts of it were ripped and stretched beyond repair.

"Here.." he says as he turns to you at the sink while you turn to face him curiously.

Without a thought, he removes his red blazer and drapes it over your shoulders.

"There...We're going outside anyway and Im kind of over Taehyung staring at your ass." he mumbles bitterly as he fixed the garment over your petite body.

You smirk at his jealous remark.

"He can look... But he knows who I belong to.." you arch your brow and Jungkook mirrors you as he placed his hands at your waist beneath his blazer. He pulls your forward into his chest and reaches lower to cup your ass cheeks.

"Act like you fucking know then...." he growls as he dipped his neck to hover over your lips.

You lift your chin to plant a few soft kisses to them, rolling your eyes and giggling against him when he squeezed you harder.

"....that is too bad about the dress though...."he murmurs as he pulled away, loosening his grip on your ass and stepping back to look down at your body.

"I kinda liked it..."

[coldfanbou]

Confessing

Wonyoung fic time. I got nothing else to say; nothing rough going on here.

Length 2.3K

Wonyoung x Mreader

You sat in a cafe, waiting for your friend to show up. You bring your drink to your lips, taking a long drink; as you place it back down, you see Wonyoung take the seat across from you. "I'm sorry for being late. I know I'm the one that called you here, but I-I just had to make sure I was ready." She says. You notice the slight stutter she made. 

"Don't worry about it; I wasn't here that long." You reply. Wonyoung fiddles with her hands and keeps her head turned away from you. A deep-seated redness is coming across now. "Are you alright?" You ask while putting your hand on her forehead.

"I-I'm fine; I just need some water. I walked here really quickly." She says, finally looking at you. A waitress comes quickly afterward, taking her order. While you're waiting, you notice Wonyoung violently shaking her head. "So, are you ready for today?" She asks after as if she hadn't just done that. 

"Yeah, it's been a while since we've gone out. Did you have anything planned? You kept everything secret from me.

Wonyoung nods and pulls out two tickets. "I got us these. They're for the carnival. I thought it would be nice to go." Wonyoung rubs her arms as she looks away from you again. Her drink arrives, and the two of you continue to talk until you're ready to go to the carnival. 

At the carnival, Wonyoung gives the tickets to the man at the entrance, and you both walk through the large hallway leading to the carnival proper. The colorful lights in the hall paint the area. You glance at Wonyoung as she smiles with excitement. Coming out of the hall, you both notice the giant Ferris wheel in the back. "Do you want to ride it?" You ask Wonyoung. 

She shakes her head, "Maybe later. Let's just walk around for now." You look at the many stalls; some are games, others are food, and a couple sells clothes, among other items. Wonyoung doesn't seem very interested in most of the games until she happens upon a fishing one. A simple game where you're handed a fishing rod and have to try to get the lure into a fish's mouth. The robotic fish pop up and bite the air before opening their mouths and sinking.  They were different colors, indicating a specific prize type that you would get. You watch Wonyoung drift toward the stall; you follow her closely, wading through the crowd. 

"Would you like a try? The first one is free." The carny operating the stand says. Wonyoung nods; he hands her a fishing pole and explains the rules. Wonyoung's attempt could have gone better, as her lure lands between the fishes. She lets out a disappointed sigh. You pay the man for a few more tries.

"What prize do you want?" You whisper to Wonyoung. She points toward a large bread plush, a red tag. You try to stifle a laugh seeing that of all her options; she'd want a piece of bread. She whines at you for laughing, slapping your arm. You grab the fishing pole and throw it forward to gauge how it'll fly. You land in between the fishes, much like Wonyoung's attempt. Noticing that the lure was lighter than expected, you give it less power and narrowly miss the red fish. 

Wonyoung jumps in the air, "You nearly had it!" She yells as she smacks your arm. Visibly excited, Wonyoung starts pointing out where it might be easier. The red fishes are spread evenly except for the far left corner, where four red fishes sit beside each other. You take Wonyoung's advice and launch the lure into the far corner, smacking the fish. It had popped up and shut its mouth right before the lure got to it. Wonyoung squats down suddenly, holding onto the edge of the stall. She pokes her head over the edge, observing as you try again. You wait for the fish to start coming down to throw the lure. In what seems like a miracle, your toss was short and bounced off a closer fish into the mouth of a red fish just as it came up to bite. Wonyoung jumps up and screams before tossing herself at you. She holds you tightly as you celebrate your victory. "You did it!" She buries her head in your chest as she continues to hug you. The man gives you the bread plush and hands it to you. 

"Your girlfriend must really like bread." He says with a laugh. Wonyoung immediately pulls away from you, turning bright red. You smile at her and hand her the bread. She immediately uses it to cover her face. You thank the man before walking away from the stall, telling him to give your other plays to someone else. 

Wonyoung holds the bread to her chest. "Thank you," she says quietly. You pat her head.

"It’s no problem. I'm glad you like it." The two of you continued to walk around the carnival, eating food and getting on an occasional ride. As evening comes, you both get in line for the Ferris wheel. Once the ride begins, you look at the city skyline from the top of the Ferris wheel. Wonyoung looks at the floor nearly the entire time. "What's wrong Wonyoung?" You ask. She grips the edges of her skirt, gulping before she opens her mouth.

"Um… t-there's something I want to tell you." Wonyoung tries to meet your gaze but can't hold it. She puts up her bread plush as a barrier between you. "I-I…I like you." 

"I like you too." 

"N-no, I mean that I-I love you. As more than a friend." Wonyoung's grip on the plush tightens as she peers over it. "We've been friends since we were kids, but I've loved you for a long time. I-I wanted to…." She pauses for a moment. "I wanted to confess to you today. I wanted to do it here." 

"You just did." You respond.

"N-no, but it's not the same. I don't want to be hiding behind this." She says, motioning toward the plush. "I wanted to have you really look at me."

You reach out and forcefully take the plush from her. "Go ahead then." 

Wonyoung places her hands on her lap and looks down before collecting herself. She shakes slightly as she looks at you. "I've loved you for a really long time, but you were always out of reach. S-sometimes, I wanted to tell you, but you would be dating someone else. I-I want to be with you. S-so w-would y-y-you…" She tries to take a breath, and you see her struggling. 

You kneel in front of her and take her hands in your own. "It’s okay." You say, reassuring her.

"Would you be my boyfriend?" She asks. Wonyoung has her eyes closed tightly as if awaiting rejection.

"I'd love to."

She hesitantly opens her eyes. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Wonyoung, I've loved you for a long time, too, but you never showed any interest in me, so I thought maybe I should date others to get you off my mind. Hearing you say that, though, makes me really happy." Wonyoung nearly pushes you onto the floor as she hugs you with all her strength. She continues to spout on and on about how she loves you. She can't help but cry as you accept her love. Wonyoung refuses to let you go as you try to return to your seat. The Ferris wheel ends soon, and Wonyoung rushes to dry her tears before you both leave the carriage. The day becomes night, and it comes time to go home. You both get in your car as you ready yourself to drop her off. "I guess I'll drop you off at home."

"Can we- can I sleep with you tonight?" She asks shyly.

"What?" You say, slightly stunned at her words.

"I want to sleep with you." She replies with her words trailing off at the end. "I've waited a long time, and I want to sleep with you," Wonyoung says, mustering her courage. 

"Alright, we'll sleep together. It'll be our first night as a couple." Wonyoung smiles all the way home. The car ride was slightly filled with sexual tension. You hadn't expected Wonyoung to be so proactive as to say she wanted to sleep with you. You also hadn't fully registered what she wanted when you agreed. You couldn't say anything to her at this point and awkwardly drove the entire way home. When you arrived, you both sat in the car for a minute, unable to move.

Eventually, you were able to step out of the car. Wonyoung quickly followed.  You both wasted no time as you made your way to your bedroom. "S-so, I guess we should take our clothes off." 

"Y-yes, we should," Wonyoung responded with the same nervous voice. You both looked away from the other as you stripped down. "I-I can turn around when you do."

"Okay, we'll turn around on three. One, two, three!" You both turn around, covering yourself. "W-we should probably take our hands away." Wonyoung shyly nods, and you both slowly put your hands to the side. Your eyes make their way down Wonyoung's body. You get caught up at her legs, though, long, toned, and thick; you marvel at them. You slowly get hard as you think about Wonyoung's body. Wonyoung blushes as she watches your cock rise to full mast. 

She steps forward, "Can…can I touch it?" You nod. She seems mesmerized by it as her hand reaches out and grasps your cock. You moan as she touches it. A smile crosses Wonyoung's face; she's happy she can make you feel good. Wonyoung starts to stroke your cock; without any prior experience, she's doing a good job. Her pace is anything but consistent, though, as she sometimes goes from incredibly slow to very quick. You run your hands around her stomach before taking a breast in each hand. Your palms squeeze her soft flesh, drawing a moan from her. Wonyoung's tits were topped with tiny pink nipples; her areola wasn't much bigger. Taking her nipple between your forefinger and thumb, you pinch her nipples while massaging her breasts. You both moan from the pleasure you're experiencing. You lean down slightly, kissing Wonyoung. She returns the kiss with enthusiasm, not wanting it to end. While you're kissing her, her hands start to move quickly. Her palm rubs the head of your cock as you both moan into the kiss. 

You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm and your hips bucking automatically. Wonyoung feels your cock throbbing and sudden wetness as precum covers her hand. Your precum allows her to stroke your cock at a faster pace. "Wonyoung, I'm going to cum." You say to warn her. She continues to stroke your cock  at a quick pace until you cum in her hand. The warm liquid spurts onto her forearm and covers her hand. While you recover, Wonyoung stares at her cum-covered hand, mesmerized by it, before putting up to her mouth and licking it. The salty taste fills her mouth as she licks her hand clean. The sight makes you hard again. "Should we continue?" You ask her.

Wonyoung climbs onto your bed and lays on her back. Her hands go down to her shaven slit, and she spreads her lips for you. Her pink pussy is there for you to take in. "Please," she says, almost like she's pleading with you to do it. "I want you." She says quietly. You climb over her and align yourself with her. 

"Are you ready?" You ask before you do the deed. Wonyoung gives you a nod. You press against her entrance and push past her lips. You hear her gasp as you thrust inside her. You plant a kiss on Wonyoung's lips; her arms wrap around you as she keeps you there. Her walls caress your cock as you push deeper inside her.  Wonyoung moans into the kiss as you start to move inside her. Your hands grip her legs as you thrust into her. "Wonyoung, you're so tight." You moan into her ear as you thrust. Wonyoung's walls try to keep you inside her, clamping down on your cock. Her moans grow louder at your comments.

"You're so big," she groans. You're pounding her into the bed as you revel in the pleasure. Her legs keep you in place as you split her apart with every thrust. Wonyoung closes her eyes and moans; you watch the beauty before you enjoy herself as sweat begins to cover her body. Her hair becomes more of a mess with every thrust. You cup her cheek, and she opens her eyes; she meets your gaze.

"You're the most beautiful person in the world, Wonyoung. I love you." You groan as the pleasure starts to become too much. 

Wonyoung pushes her head up to kiss you. "I love you too." Wonyoung whines as she feels her climax coming. Her walls tighten around you as you continue to thrust. 

"I'm going to cum, Wonyoung. Let me go." 

"No, I want you to cum inside me. Please." You relent and slam your cock into Wonyoung again. You both shout as you reach your orgasm. Your semen fills Wonyoung. Her leg’s grip on you doesn't loosen; she keeps you in place as her cunt milks you for all of your cum. You watch Wonyoung's face drift into a pure orgasmic state as she feels you fill her womb with cum. After a few minutes, her legs finally release their hold over you. You stay buried inside her for a little longer before pulling out of her. You roll over onto your back, and Wonyoung moves to place her head on your chest. Cum leaks from her pussy onto her thighs as she uses her fingertip to trace something on your chest.

You put your arm around her head and kiss her forehead. "I love you," she says, her eyes trying to remain open as she slowly drifts off to sleep.

[floorbe]

"Training Modules" (William Afton x Fem!Reader)

**Commission for @skalter !**

Summary: You'd been struggling to keep a job for the past few months, much to your own embarrassment... especially since you kinda have a thing for your career counselor, Mr. Raglan, who you're sure only sees you as a (rather difficult) client.

Warning(s): n/fw, cursing, slight degradation, slight praise, reader is AFAB and uses she/her, kind of cnc at one specific part but it's obvious that reader is into it, spit play, p in v, exhibitionism, dirty talk

A/N: this was so fun to write lol love my boy william steve

Word count: ~6,668

Pt I (here!), pt II

~

You were fucked.

This was the second job this month that you’d been fired from. 

Okay, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault! Your manager was a hard ass! So what if your ten minute break turned into fifteen one time? It was absurd to allow workers only one ten minute break every 5 hours, especially in a fast food job. Good riddance, you thought as you threw your hat on the floor, storming out of the building. 

Tears filled your eyes as you huffed, slamming your car door as you groaned in frustration. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, resting your forehead against the steering wheel. Mr. Raglan was going to be pissed.

-

“What… is your problem?” Mr. Raglan’s voice scratched at your ears, leaving your cheeks hot as you felt his eyes scan your features, “You’ve been fired from not one, but two jobs within the past… three and a half weeks. That’s barely a week and a half at each, Miss L/N.” 

The heat that had bloomed in your cheeks easily spread to your ears at his blunt reminder, fidgeting anxiously as you watched his form from the corner of your eye. All you could muster was a nervous chuckle and an “I’m sorry” before your eyes flicked up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes surprised you, effectively locking your gaze with his. The flames that had heated your features seconds prior vanished, a jarring chill shuddering your form in its place. 

His hands were folded neatly over one another, supporting his chin as he tilted his head to watch you. The silence seemed to suffocate the room, leaving no air for you to catch your breath. His eyes pinned you in place, leaving you frozen as if the icy blue in his eyes had somehow reached you. His eyes suddenly dropped to your leg, tracking its movement as it shook and bounced. You swore you saw a quirk of his lip, maybe even a glimmer of amusement clouded in how his eyes crinkled. 

Then, as quickly as the moment had started, it was over. Mr. Raglan took a deep breath, breaking his attention away from your form to push himself up from his chair. You watched closely as he glided towards his coffee pot, swirling it around in his hand before pouring into a small, paper cup. 

“...You’re running out of options,” he commented after a moment, his back facing you, “Losing two jobs within less than a month isn’t exactly… Well, let’s just say you won’t be getting a gold star, that’s for sure.” Now unburdened by his gaze, you took the time to scan over his form. You hadn’t gotten to see Mr. Raglan much (well, you had, but most of the time you were staring at one familiar carpet spot on the floor instead of his towering stature), and now that you had a chance, albeit a small one… 

“...Sorry,” you murmured again, almost absently as you traced how his shirt clung loosely to his back with your eyes, making him appear lankier than he probably is. The pale yellow complimented the warmer colors of the room, you noted, and with a quick glance around the room you noticed that it was almost all decorated in dim yellows and browns. 

The only splash of color in the room seemed to be the tie he sported. You had caught a glimpse of the color peeking out when he’d walked you in, and even then, you decided thoughtfully, the gritty purple seemed to disappear amongst the brighter colors. As you considered the color theory of his room, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the curve of his lower back, lower, lower… 

“Miss. L/N?” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and it took you embarrassingly long to regain enough coherence to quickly jerk your head back up.

You nearly jolted in your seat as his eyes locked with yours again, and it was with a spark of embarrassment that you realized, with his head tilted back over his shoulder to catch your gaze, that he probably had seen you checking him out. One of his eyebrows raised as he caught your attention, and with the way his mouth quirked up into a sly smile, you’re now certain that he caught you checking him out. 

Before you could sputter out a response, you swore you saw his eyes rake over your form quickly… But before you could process he was already spinning around, offering you the paper cup he’d filled with hot coffee. 

“I said, coffee?” he repeated, head tilted in a warm smile as he offered. 

“Oh! Um– yes, thank you,” you gently took the cup from his hands. Your hands were trembling as you took a sip from the flimsy cup, the hot coffee almost burning your tongue. 

“I have one more job that you might be a fit for,” Mr. Raglan slipped back into his seat, steepling his fingers, “Now, I will warn you… If you lose this one, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get you another so easily. I wasn’t lying when I said your options are limited, Miss L/N.” 

You nodded, letting your eyes train onto the bland carpeting in his office in an attempt to focus on his words. “...Alright. What–... what’s the job?” you asked, praying to any god listening that it wouldn’t be another damn fast food job…

“It’s a fast food job–”

God fucking–

“-though you’ll be hopping around from station to station.”

Extra stress of learning multiple positions at once. Great. 

“Now, I know you have a history with fast food, and not a particularly good one. That being said, I have no doubt that you’ll excel here,” he smiled encouragingly at you. The way his eyes crinkled implied a warmth to his words, one that you didn’t doubt comforted many others in your position. Despite the innocuous smile, you felt a shiver rip down your spine; there was a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t define as he detailed the job. It gave you a jarring feeling that he knew something you didn’t. 

“And– and fast food is the only job available…?” 

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, shrugging apologetically, “I’m afraid so… Trust me, Y/N-”

That was the first time he’d used your first name. 

“-I searched high and low for something else for y’a… Sorry, kid,” though his expression seemed to soften with understanding, it hadn’t met his eyes, “If you lose this job, I mean… I won’t give up on y’a, but…” he shrugged again, sighing quietly. 

“I understand,” you nodded, fidgeting with the now empty paper cup, “I- I’ll do my best, Mr. Raglan.” 

“I know you will.”

-

Fuck. Okay, now you were really screwed. 

“How fucking hard is it to run orders, Y/N?” you mumbled to yourself, throwing your barely used uniform on your bed haphazardly, “Fuck. Mr. Raglan is gonna be pissed…” you groaned frustratedly, throwing yourself face down on your bed for an angry nap. Just as you were about to drift off, your phone pinged beneath your hand, jolting you awake with another groan. You flipped it open groggily, blinking away the sleep from your eyes.

How was your first day?

You blinked in surprise. That was… new. Mr. Raglan had never texted you before. 

Hope you haven’t gotten fired yet.

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, grimacing. You were hovering your thumbs over the keyboard, trying to find some way to confess that, yes, before even your first lunch break, you’d been fired. 

Kidding! Unless you did.

You decided that straight to the point would spare you both time.

I got fired. I’m sorry, Mr. Raglan, I understand if you want to refer me to another counselor.

Your leg bounced anxiously as you waited for his response. It was minutes before your phone pinged again, and you hastily flicked it open. 

That’s a shame. Tell you what, why don’t you come in sometime today? I think I may have found something more suitable for you.

Your response was typed within seconds, thumbs hastily clicking through the letters to spell your response. 

Absolutely, thank you so much, Mr. Raglan! What time works best?

Wonderful! Anytime after six works.

That was weird. You could’ve sworn he worked 9 - 5… Maybe he was working overtime? Just for you…? You felt your cheeks warm at the idea. There was no way, but… it didn’t hurt to daydream a bit. Not as long as you didn’t let it interfere with being professional with him, right? 

Your phone pinged again, and you couldn’t help the smile that quirked your lips as you read his message. 

See you soon, Y/N!

You hadn’t liked how that made your heart skip. Maybe you shouldn’t daydream if you were already getting butterflies at the thought of him. You glanced at the clock– 3pm. 

Well… you did have time to spare… maybe one wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it wasn’t like you saw him everyday… You’d have time to cool off this crush eventually!

-

You let out a deep sigh as you clicked off the car engine. You took a moment to compose yourself, rubbing your eyes tiredly with a groan. It was a miracle you’d made it even five minutes early with how you’d rushed out of the house with your car keys dangling from your teeth, too occupied to even grab a sweater for the chilly weather.

Yeah, okay, maybe letting yourself daydream wasn’t the best idea. You’d spent way too long remembering how his form had loomed over you in his office, how his arm was bent despite reaching all the way over his desk to shake your hand, fingers  curling around yours, dwarfing your palm… You bit your lip, pressing your palm flat against your own thigh. The warmth, though obviously your own, let your mind wander. 

You imagined his piercing eyes catching yours again, his hand reaching out to rest on your thigh in a silent reassurance... Maybe his face would harden when he realized your position, maybe his eyes would sharpen, boring into yours as his hand climbed higher and higher, slipping inwards… 

You shook your head, blinking the remnants of your daydream away. You stepped out of your car, the darkness of the evening surrounding you as you crossed the vacant lot. You swallowed hard, rubbing your hands together anxiously as you neared the front door. A deep, shuddering breath left you in a poor attempt to calm your racing heart before you raised your fist, rapping gently on the door. 

It was mere seconds before you heard the door click unlocked, swinging open. Mr. Raglan greeted you with a smile, looming over you once again as he leaned out to peek around the building. You caught a whiff of his cologne, deep and musky, mixed with the familiar scent of shitty, instant coffee. It took you a moment to realize he was looking at you expectantly, and you fumbled with a response to pretend you were listening. You shot for the safest option; if he’d just opened the door, a greeting? 

“Hello, Mr. Raglan! I’m good, how are you?” 

He paused, tilting his head. One of his eyebrows arched, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a sly look. “I said,” he started, making it clear he’d caught your little lie, “Are you ready for the job opportunity of a lifetime?”

You froze, mouth opening and closing as you scrambled for words. Heat prickled your cheeks, flaming hot as you watched his lips curl further into a smug smirk. “U-uh– yes, yeah!” you finally managed to choke out, hastily ducking under his arm to slip into the familiar building. 

Mr. Raglan clicked the door shut behind you, keys jingling as he locked the doors. You swallowed hard, casting a look around the empty lobby; it was odd to see the space so vacant. Suddenly there was a warm pressure on your lower back, lightly pushing to guide you forward. “So,” Mr. Raglan started, voice hoarse before he cleared his throat, “I’ve found a gig I think you might be a good fit for. Real good pay, hours, convenient location… and your boss isn’t too shabby, either.”

You let yourself be guided into his office, taking a seat in the plush chair across from his desk as he circled you. He didn’t slide behind his desk like he usually did, instead choosing to lean against the front. His body was close, and you resisted the urge to scoot back as his legs brushed against yours. “Thank you, Mr. Raglan, I- I really appreciate it,” you smiled, tipping your head up at him. 

He waved you off, hand swishing air across your face as he beamed down at you, “Aw, hey, I can’t take all the credit,” his nimble fingers curled around his keys, jingling them as he shook them in front of you, showcasing the rabbit’s foot attached to the keyring, “Maybe my little rabbit’s foot helped y’a out, too, huh?”

You chuckled along with him, watching his torso torque to place them back onto his desk. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re worried that this’ll be another fast food job you get fired from on day one,” he gave you a pointed look but seemed to preen when you nervously averted your gaze, “But… It’s not! In fact, I’d say it’s a hell of a lot better.”

“What’s the job?” you asked with a tilt of your head, embarrassment fading as your curiosity grew. 

The grin that cracked across his face sent goosebumps down your body. His back hunched as he leaned over your form, arms spreading eagerly to the side in a “ta-da” as his voice exclaimed, “My secretary!” 

Your mouth went dry. 

“I know, I know, a bit on the nose, but hey, who knows your resume better than your career counselor?”

You forced out a laugh, dipping your head to hide the way your smile hadn’t met your eyes. You were already dealing with less-than-pure thoughts of him, and that was when you saw him sparingly for updates and job searches! Seeing him almost every day? Not only just seeing him, but interacting and getting to know him?

“...I’m sensing that you’re not too excited about it, but trust me, working for me will be the best decision you make,” he grinned down at you, and you tried your best to suppress the chills that ran down your spine. You ignored how his grin sharpened ever-so-slightly, a sign that you weren’t nearly as sneaky as you’d hoped. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I am excited,” you tried to reassure him, waving your hands, “I just– I’m surprised, is all? Uh, I guess I didn’t expect the job to be…” 

“With the big, bad Mr. Raglan?” he nearly growled, eyes twinkling with amusement as he mimed clawing at you with a chuckle, “Don’t worry. I get that a lot. Tell you what… How about I let you think it over and you can get back to me?”

Despite your hesitations prior, you couldn’t turn down another job. You bit your lip, silently weighing your options. Sure, you were unbearably horny for the guy (and he sometimes gave you a chill no one else seemed to get), but you could ignore it! …Probably. 

“No, no, I accept,” you hastily reassured him, smiling politely, “Sorry, I’d love to. I was just caught off guard.” 

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together before reaching out a hand to you, “How’s tomorrow for a start date?”

-

Alright, maybe not all hope was lost! Thus far, your day had been remarkably (and fortunately) uneventful as a whole. Mr. Raglan had introduced you briefly to the main staff, went over dress code, common policies, and now you were stuck watching training videos about customer service. You had zoned out about an hour ago, though, mindlessly clicking through the training quizzes you’d seen too many times before. The questions were always the same basic set you always got when training at a new job, just slightly reworded to seem original to whatever company you were under. 

“Wow, you’re a really fast reader! You barely even clicked next before you answered that one!”

Mr. Raglan’s voice startled you from your thoughts and you flinched, hand jerking as if to hide the screen. You couldn’t help the distinct feeling of being caught doing something wrong, electricity sparking along your tongue as you looked back over your shoulder. 

The moment you locked eyes with his, you swore you saw his smile sharpen as his eyes trailed over your startled expression; however, when you blinked, he was looking at you with the same amused quirk of his lips as he scanned your monitor. He chuckled at your expression, placing a warm hand on your shoulder and leaning in conspiratorially, whispering, “Hey, don’t worry. I won’t tell your boss.” He winked at you, laughing again as you choked out a chuckle, still reeling from his sudden appearance.

The weight of his hand was heavy on your shoulder, warmth seeping through your shirt as you swallowed hard, forcing out another laugh to bide time fighting off how your mind kept wondering how his hand would feel trailing lower, lower–

It was only when he’d tilted his head, dipping his chin ever-so-slightly to study your expression that you realized the silence had stretched for a moment too long. “They’re all the same questions,” you spit out hastily, clearing your throat as you finally composed yourself. He only hummed curiously at your words, eyes flicking back to the screen. His eyebrows furrowed as he adjusted his glasses, chin brushing against your shoulder as he leaned closer as if to inspect the screen. 

“Um, most jobs have the same basic training questions about, like… hospitality, y’know?” you explained, trying very hard to not think about how close he was to you right now. You could even smell his cologne, for God’s sake!

“Huh,” he hummed thoughtfully after a moment, taking another long moment to study the screen before straightening up once again, towering over your seated form. He seemed to preen in the way you shrank a bit in your seat, clasping his hands together as he leaned against your desk, “Well, hey, as long as you’re not driving our clients away, I’m happy.” 

“O-oh, no, no, don’t worry, Mr. Raglan, I won’t,” you hastily reassured him. You opened your mouth to speak again, but the words died in your throat as his hand landed on your shoulder again, squeezing lightly. 

“I know you won’t. You forgot I was your career counselor, Y/N,” he reminded you with a chuckle, “After knowing you this long, I know I can trust you to be an excellent worker.” He paused, shifting his gaze away briefly before meeting yours again with a quirk of his lips, “...Though there is a training module that’s required of you that needs your full attention.”

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head as you considered what it might entail, “Okay! Um, which module is it? I could do it now.” 

His sly smirk cracked into a grin as he leaned down beside your ear once more, his hand lightly massaging your shoulder, “It’s a newer one. I think you’ll like it, Y/N. You can only access it through my computer, though.”

Okay, were you reading this energy incorrectly? That sentence had an undertone, hadn’t it? 

“Again, it’s a newer module, still in the early stages, so I’ll have to be there while you complete it to make sure it runs smoothly,” he continued casually, straightening back up, “But I think you’d be the perfect, uh… trial participant.” 

There was definitely an innuendo in there, wasn’t there? Were you going insane? 

“What do you say, Y/N?” he asked after a moment, voice lowering to a soft rumble, his eyes gleaming, “Wanna follow big, bad Mr. Raglan to his office?” 

Definitely an innuendo. Fuck. Okay. Your cheeks were on fire, a lump forming in your throat as you sputtered, trying to find something to say. He seemed to find your flustered behavior amusing, for he squeezed your shoulder with a chuckle before retreating, “I’ll let you think about it, hmm?”

“No,” the word was out of your mouth before you could process it, “U-uh, I mean– yeah, I–...” you fumbled for the right words as he tilted his head down at you. After watching you fumble for words for an embarrassingly long moment, he finally cut you off by reaching forward, the pads of his fingers barely grazing your cheekbone. You froze. 

“There you go! Knew you’d be a good girl the moment you walked in my door,” he praised in a mockingly innocent tone, smile crinkling his eyes as his thumb swiped across your cheekbone. “Had an eyelash on your cheek,” he explained quietly, and you could hear the amusement in his tone as he watched you try to recover. 

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched him turn towards his office, casting a look over his shoulder at you with a raised brow. You heard him snicker as you scrambled out of your seat after him. 

He swung open the door to his office, stepping to the side to let you enter first before he followed closely behind. You heard the door shut behind you, muffling the ambient noise of the rest of the building. In the new silence you could hear him turn the lock, a soft click assuring your privacy. 

“What’s the first step of the module?” you asked in a sudden bout of confidence, casting a long glance over your shoulder with, what you hoped came off as, a sultry smile. 

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” he growled. His hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you towards his desk. You momentarily thought he was going to make you sit in his chair, but before you could spin around, his hand grazed up your spine. He circled you, looming over you predatorily before tracing the pads of his fingers up your arms to rest on your shoulders. 

As he applied a gentle pressure to your shoulders, you furrowed your brows in confusion. He chuckled, eyes glinting dangerously as he drank in your expression before pressing down on your shoulders again, this time followed by a low command of, “On your knees, sweetheart. Under the desk, c’mon.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, but you couldn’t ignore the heat that flushed through your body at the way his eyes raked over your body hungrily. You made a show of licking your lips as you pretended to consider his words, humming thoughtfully. “Or what, Mr. Raglan?” you asked after a moment, batting your eyelashes teasingly up at him. 

Mr. Raglan let out a bark of laughter, eyes glinting in amusement at your rebellion, “Or what? Or… Well, you wouldn’t want to piss off your new boss, would you, Miss Y/N?” His eyes locked onto the way your teeth tugged at your bottom lip teasingly, “Don’t you want to make a good impression?”

“Oh, of course,” you assured him playfully, sinking down onto your knees with a sly grin, “I wouldn’t want to be disrespectful, Mr. Raglan.” The carpeted floors hit your knees with a soft thud, shifting backwards to settle under his desk with a mockingly sweet smile. 

“Atta girl,” he nearly growled, wasting no time in plopping down in his office chair. His legs framed either side of your vision as he scooted his chair in, boxing you underneath his desk. You bit your lip as his thighs opened wider, making no attempt to hide the growing tent in his slacks. God, you’d been fantasizing about this for months, and now… Well, damn, you weren’t going to waste any time. 

You shuffled forward, resting your cheek on his thigh and gazing up at him through your lashes. You watched his lips curl up for the umpteenth time that day, sliding a hand down to rest on his own inner thigh. He patted it enticingly, chuckling lowly, “C’mon, sweetheart, I’m not gonna wait all day for that pretty mouth of yours.” 

“I’m paid by the hour,” you reminded him teasingly, sliding your hand slowly up his pant leg and rubbing the inner seam of his thigh. You heard his breath hitch softly, and another low laugh left his lips. 

“Oh, trust me, I know. Bet you’re gonna be racking up a lot of overtime from now on, aren’t you?” his eyes tracked as your finger trailed higher, barely grazing over the obvious bulge in his pants. His hips bucked lightly, a growl of impatience slipping from his lips as you teased him. 

The rough pads of his fingers crawled up your cheek, his nails scratching lightly against your scalp as he guided your head closer to his bulge. You shuffled your cheek closer to his inner thigh, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip as you slowly slid your palm over his bulge, rubbing it. Fuck, it looked big, and you doubted he was fully hard yet. You squirmed at the thought, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. 

Just when you were about to unfasten his belt, your fingers grazing against the cool metal, there was a sudden knock on his door. You froze, eyes widening as you moved to crawl out from under his desk hastily. His grip on your scalp tightened lightly, fingernails pressing into your scalp lightly as he scooted his desk chair forward, caging you between his thighs. 

He raised a teasing finger to press against his lips, shushing you inaudibly before he straightened up. Unlocking the door, you heard him vaguely greet whoever had entered, their voices muffled to you through the thicker wood of his desk. You watched as his feet moved back into your vision, his eyes flicking down to you casually to make sure you were settled right back between his knees. He tapped his foot idly, his fingers searching blindly to cup your scalp again.

You decided to mostly tune out their conversation after hearing snippets about administration tasks and suggestions. Mr. Raglan was surprisingly composed as you carefully laid your cheek on his thigh again, the only acknowledgement of your movement being how his thumb tapped lightly on your temple. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or encouragement, but as you watched how casually he performed, it struck you that there could have easily been another woman beneath his desk when you would have appointments with him. 

Then again, Mr. Raglan hadn’t seemed like the type to have flings… Well, he also hadn’t seemed like the type to keep you under his desk, breath ghosting over the obvious tent in his pants, as he talked casually to a coworker. How well did you really know him, anyway? The realization made you frown deeply, a surprising spark of jealousy igniting in your gut as you realized the very real possibility that you weren’t the only one. 

In a sudden burst of confidence, you slid your hand up to silently unfasten his belt, pulling it slowly out from around his waist to keep quiet. “Oh, really?” Mr. Raglan’s voice broke through your concentration, and as you peeked up at him he glanced down briefly at you, pointedly, making clear that he wasn’t just talking to his coworker. You held his gaze for as long as you could, biting your lip as you slowly unbuttoned his slacks. 

“Yeah, so remember to–” Mr. Raglan’s eyes flicked back up to his coworker as they spoke again, nodding emphatically as you unzipped his slacks. He shifted in his seat, the spinny chair squeaking as he scooted forward, tapping his foot as a warning before you scooted back. As he hid more of his body under the desk with you, you couldn’t help the wicked grin that spread across your face as you slowly, finally, pulled down the elastic of his underwear. 

His cock gradually sprang upwards, freed of its confines and practically begging for your attention. You felt his fingers grip the back of your head tighter, his cock twitching as he let his hips rut forward, a silent reminder of your “module”. You raised a hand to glide over his length, letting it rest heavy against your palm before you curled your fingers around him. 

You heard his breath hitch as you slowly started to pump his aching cock and it throbbed against your palm at the teasing pace. He tapped his finger on your temple impatiently once again, hips pushing forward silently. You bit back a grin, squeezing his length teasingly before you decided to play with him a bit more. Maybe it was petty, but if he really had had other women here, you kind of wanted to make sure he didn’t forget you any time soon. 

Well, you would be seeing him every day, but still! First impressions are everything, you contend amusedly. With that, you leaned in slowly, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth to suckle on it lightly. You held back a laugh as you heard him stifle a gasp by clearing this throat, hips bucking into your mouth at the sudden sensation. His fingers gripped your scalp and surprised you by nearly yanking you closer, pumping more of his shaft into your mouth without warning. 

You jolted, hands gripping his thighs tightly as you welcomed more of his cock into your mouth. He seemed to enjoy the submission, for his grip softened as he stroked over your cheek with his thumb briefly. You preened under the new attention, even if his eyes were still trained up on his coworker. Speaking of… What were they even talking about, again? 

The question left your mind as his hips rutted into your mouth again as your jaw relaxed. The sudden movement startled you, though his hand pushed on the back of your head at the same time, keeping you in place. You squeezed your eyes shut as his tip ended up brushing too far down your throat, and you couldn’t stop the forceful gag that followed.. 

As your throat contracted around his cock you could feel a sting in your nose, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you tried to pull back. You vaguely heard him hack loudly, likely to cover the sound of your wet gag and the pop of his cock slipping from your lips. His hand dragged down your face as you tried to suppress another cough. You caught his gaze as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, helping to muffle your noises.

“Y’okay, Steve?” you heard his coworker ask and your heart raced, shuffling further beneath the desk.

Mr. Raglan cleared his throat and you saw the forced polite smile on his lips as you bit down lightly on his fingers, muffling your breathing. “Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m alright. Think I’m catching something.”

“Ah, alright. Well, I’ll leave you be, then. Take care, Steve,” you felt your body physically deflate in relief as you listened to the coworker step back, shuffling out of the room with a soft click of the door. A brief moment passed to let the coworker walk off fully before Mr. Raglan shoved his fingers further down your throat, making you gag again. 

“Aww, was that too much?” he taunted you, pushing his lip out in faux pout before laughing darkly. His cock was still stiff against his abdomen, gleaming with his own pre-cum and your saliva, “Couldn’t even take half my cock down your throat before you were gagging on it. Made me work extra hard to make sure we didn’t get caught.” 

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but as his fingers winded eagerly around your tongue, you sucked on them, letting saliva dribble down your chin once more. He groaned at the sight before ripping his fingers from your mouth. “Get up,” he growled, eyes flashing as you shakily rose from your knees, crawling out from under his desk. You hadn’t even fully stood up before his hands were gripping your hips, dragging you forward. You let him manhandle you, lifting you and pressing you roughly down onto his thigh. 

You barely had time to tilt your head in question before he guided your hips to drag along his thigh, your previously neglected wetness finally getting attention. You’d almost forgotten how fucking horny you were, and you wasted no time in bucking your hips down once reminded. A breathy moan left your lips as you felt your throbbing clit rub perfectly against his upper thigh.

“Look at you,” he purred, helping to keep your pace steady as his gaze hungrily raked down your form, “God, you’re so fucking needy.” He laughed, squeezing your hips as he bounced his thigh up to meet your movements, “If I were a crueler man, I’d make you cum on my thigh before I’d even touch that pretty pussy.” 

A shot of arousal flooded through you at the idea, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your lips at the idea, hips twitching subconsciously. He laughed at you again, letting you rut against his thigh and chase the stimulation he’d been denying you, “Oh, you like that idea? Naughty girl!” 

He drank in the sight of your trembling form once again, watching you bounce with each buck of your hips, how your mouth fell open to retort snarkily before he bounced his thigh again and made your head fog over a bit... His grin was wide and smug, enjoying how much power he obviously held over you here, on his thigh, dragging your clit across his leg as your libido gradually lowered your inhibitions. 

As you felt the knot in your abdomen start to tighten, your hips stuttered in their movement. He caught the movement immediately, lifting you off of his thigh easily and grinning wickedly at you when you whined out a “hey!”. 

“Not yet,” he growled, repositioning you on the center of his lap, reaching one hand down to pump his cock lazily. His other hand made quick work of your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with practiced ease before slapping your ass playfully. 

You slowly stood from your place on his lap, trembling slightly as you shucked off your bottoms, revealing your dripping folds and throbbing clit to his hungry eyes. He dragged you back into his lap, the head of his cock nudging against your clit before moving to grind his length along your puffy folds. “Aww, you’re practically dripping for me… Bet I could even fuck you without any prep, couldn’t I?” he asked you lowly, the head of his cock prodding teasingly against your entrance. 

All you could do was nod, the throbbing in your core making you too needy to care about his taunting. He chuckled darkly before sliding his hands up to grip your ass cheeks, groping them roughly as he spread your lips for his twitching cock. He nudged your folds open with the head of his cock, slowly bullying himself through your tight opening with a low groan. 

“Shit– you’re so fucking tight,” his eyes closed briefly as you worked your hips down, finally sinking down to the hilt, balls deep in your fluttering hole as you both took in the blissful feeling. “Ah, yeah, this is what you needed, huh?” he growled tauntingly as your walls tightened around him. He lifted you off his lap slightly, only to slam you back down onto his length, stretching you out deliciously as the head of his cock rubbed against the sensitive spot inside. 

“Mhm, feel that? Yeah, this is what you really needed, someone to fuck this pretty pussy until you’re dumb enough to follow orders,” he laughed as you let out a particularly loud moan, his length throbbing inside of you with each rough drag of his hips. It was hard to think straight with how he was talking to you, and it certainly didn’t help how he was currently splitting your cunt open like you’d never felt before. 

His fingers suddenly gripped your chin roughly, forcing your attention onto him as he fucked up into you, quickening his pace to watch you squirm, “Oh, fuck, you’re squeezing me already– you close? That quickly?” 

You nodded, sputtering out a weak “yeah” as you felt his hips slam against yours, one hand snaking down to roughly thumb your clit as he laughed, “Thought so. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to work on your stamina.” You felt the knot in your abdomen tighten again, your walls throbbing with each drag of his fat cock along your sensitive walls.

“Mhm, this is the job you really needed: coming in and being fucked dumb from 9 - 5. Bet you’d even work overtime for that, wouldn’t you?” 

With a strangled moan, you felt the knot in your stomach snap, pleasure pulsing through your body as your back snapped into an arch. You couldn’t focus on anything he was saying, only how his thumb quickened its pace on your clit, how his cock throbbed and twitched inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, Mr. Raglan,” you moan, eyes rolling back as you bounced on his cock. 

“That’s it– fuck, yeah, take it, take it—” he hissed, pumping his cock one, two more times before stilling. His hands gripped your hips harshly, and you were sure they’d leave bruises the next day. He groaned as he shoved you down, pushing his cock as deep as possible. His hips grinded against yours as he came, shooting spurts of hot, sticky cum in your hole as he groaned lowly, “Fu-uck, that’s it, atta girl, take it all–”

You drooped forward as you both came down from your highs, your forehead nestled against his shoulder as you panted heavily. His cock twitched once more before it gradually softened inside of you as your walls pulsed around him. You vaguely acknowledged how his hands slid under your ass, lifting you up to let his cock slip out of you. 

He watched his cum pool into a bead and drip out of your hole with an intensity you hadn’t expected, and you couldn’t help the dull throb that returned at how enraptured he seemed. Before you could process his actions, his fingers were slipping inside of your folds, forcing a weak whimper from your mouth as his fingers sent accidental pleasure zipping through your already overstimulated body. 

You relaxed once more as they slipped back out soon after, watching with tired curiosity. He brought his fingers, now covered in both of your juices, up to your mouth. He tilted his head as he pressed his fingers against your bottom lip, as if he was studying your reaction. After a moment, you took his fingers into your mouth, too fucked out to care how embarrassing it might look. You sucked lazily on his calloused fingers, tasting your combined juices that coated the roughened skin. 

When you looked back up to catch his reaction, the grin on his face was almost sinister. He slowly dragged his fingers down your lip and traced down your jawline, resting loosely near your throat. His thumb pressed lightly against the center of your neck, making you wince as your throat contracted slightly. You hadn’t gotten a chance to question the odd gesture further before the darkened glint in his eyes was gone and he was picking you up, placing you on his desk with a surprising tenderness. 

“I’ll get you cleaned up and then you can clock out,” he smiled kindly at you, tucking himself back into his pants before giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. He circled around you, stepping out of the room before casually casting a glance over his shoulder, “Hey, you mind working overtime tomorrow?”

[felinefractious]

hey, so my brother sent me this person's cat online and was wondering why it was cross-eyed. i've learned a lot of info from you so i tried my hand at guessing, but i don't want to believe what i said just because i think it's right.

i told my brother the cat in question looks to me like a tabby x ragdoll mix. i know ragdolls are commonly seen with higher chances of cross-eyes, and when i tried to search 'ragdoll tabby' i only got them mixed, not the pattern itself.

i brought up how the weird white patch on the cat's muzzle could be coming from the ragdoll's side, and the pointed out that the [from what it looks to me] shorter fur and less puffy build could be the tabby.

here's some more pictures of the cat [again this cat isn't either of ours so i can only send what i can find. however the cat owner is softwilly on social media]

regardless if you end up helping me with this i do appreciate what you do as i've learned SO much about cat genetics through your page and being a cat lover it's like a treasure trove of cat education! have a good day/night :]

Hey, I’m glad you enjoy the blog! I like your icon, hyenas are awesome.

So “tabby” is not a breed, it’s a pattern. That feels like a good place to start!

Our adorable little house cats were once upon a time descended from the African Wildcat, so the default/wild-type appearance before all of the mutations and breeds and such came into play would resemble this ancestor.

Talk about family resemblance!

The Domestic Cat on the top [source] is a shorthair black tabby, closely resembling the phenotype of the African Wildcat on the bottom [source].

A mutation on the agouti (tabby) gene causing an increase in the production of black pigment is where out solid colored cats come from.

UC Davis page on Agouti

Due to other genes which determine and influence the presentation of the tabby pattern we have quite a few tabby options now. To keep it simple these are primarily mackerel, spotted, classic and ticked but can be modified even further the more genes we add in (bengal modifier, wide band, etc).

Since tabby is the original flavor cat the majority of stray/feral cats you encounter will be sole flavor of tabby but various types of tabby patterns are permitted in many, many, many different breeds.

The white smudge on the face as well as the bib and mittens are due to one of several mutations on the KIT gene. These mutations are very common in domestic animals which is why piebald patterning is so widespread in domestic varieties but rare uncommon in wild specimens.

UC Davis page of Dominant White & White Spotting

So although this is a mutation and not part of default settings it, like solid cats, is incredibly common to find cats with white markings in the wider stray/feral population as well as in a huge variety of cat breeds.

Here is a black tabby point Ragdoll with white mittens [source].

The distinctive masked pattern is caused by mutation which effects pigmentation, ranging from being fully normally colored (wild type) to albinism. In between this range we have colorpoint, mink, sepia and most recently mocha… but I’m only going to discuss colorpoint right now.

The colorpoint pattern is a form of albinism influenced by body temperature, turning the cat into a living heat map. Pigment is turned off in warm areas and is produced normally in cool areas, such as the extremities. So if you peeled the colorpoint off of this Ragdoll they’d look a lot more similar to the cat you’re sharing!

UC Davis page on Colorpoint Restriction

This is another mutation notably absent from our default wild-type and is a little less common than solid or white-spotted but still pretty well distributed throughout the stray/feral population as well as being accepted in many breeds.

Unfortunately there seems to be a higher incidence of strabismus (cross-eyed) in pointed cats than those with full color expression, not just Ragdolls. Nystagmus (involuntary eye movements) is also unfortunately common, which @the-adventures-of-dave’s Kepler (Bengal) has.

But pointed cats don’t have a monopoly on these problems! There are plenty of pointed cats without eye problems and there are plenty of full expression cats with eye problems. Sometimes cats are just cross-eyed, just like how sometimes people are just cross-eyed.

The truth is most cats aren’t any breed or a mix of any breeds, they’re just… cats!

Cats and cat breeds aren’t all that similar to dogs and dog breeds. Cat breeds are a relatively new occurrence, often have allowable outcross with other breeds, and comprise a miniscule portion of the overall feline population.

Pedigree, Purebred, Mixed Breed, Random-bred - What’s the Difference?

What’s the Breed of Your Cat?

So this is all a very long way to say that the very dashing cat you shared is most likely a black tabby Domestic Longhair with white spotting and the strabismus is likely unrelated.