#but now i have 2 long fics that i want to work on and don't want to push either back for weeks or potentially months while i write the othe

[callalillywrites]

Shooting His Shot Part 1

The original version of this story is something I've been wanting to expand for a while now. I finally got my chance, and it's become one of my most indulgent stories yet (I think). What was 1200 words is now over 8000 and split into two parts. Part 2 will be available in a few hours.

I had so much fun with this AU that I could easily persuaded to expand the universe a bit more. Ideas are already forming for a few of the other characters, but I'll hold off until I know others want to see them as well. It's not like I don't have plenty of other stories to work on anyway. 😊

The gif below is somewhat the look I was going for with Steve in this fic though he's given a suit jacket to wear. But yeah, this is it. One of my favorite looks of his btw.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Other notable characters: Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen, Sam Wilson, Ari Levinson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, and honorably mentioned Curtis Everett

Word Count: 4350

Summary: Steve owns a steakhouse that you used to frequent before your ex came into the picture. Now, your ex is gone, and you're ready to head back to the one place you've always felt welcome and wanted. What neither you nor Steve count on is his staff, led by Bucky, launching a full-one assault effort to get you two together. It's time the two of you realize your feelings for one another.

Warnings: abusive ex (Reader's), pining, so much pining, fluff, two ridiculous idiots in love, a whole bunch of matchmakers

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent story made like one of those cheesy rom-com which is my bread and butter at this point. It's proofread, but any mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

PART 2

*****

A few hours before dinnertime rush begins…

It might be his day off, but Steve’s made it such a habit that he can’t stop himself. After all, he keeps hoping that you’ll walk back in the door of his steakhouse one day. Even if it’s been six months since he’s last seen your smiling and pretty face.

To help the hours pass, Steve turns to their books and reviews them. He might as well work on payroll for the week and get the checks ready for the following week. While he’s at it, he might look at their orders and see how they’re sitting as well. Maybe he should venture into the kitchen soon and speak with Bucky about their upcoming inspection. Not that they weren’t ready, but one can never be caught unawares. Besides that, they pride themselves on having one of the cleanest kitchens in the county.

As if conjuring up his best friend, Bucky stands in the doorway with one of their famous lunch specials.

“You’ve been at it long enough, punk. Take a break and eat something.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bucky steps into the room and sets the plate down on Steve’s desk, careless of the few neat piles Steve’s created that morning.

Steve stares at the plate for a few seconds before his stomach makes it known how empty it is. He probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast after the workout he pushed himself through that morning.

While Steve takes a bite of food, Bucky sinks into one of the other chairs and sprawls himself out. He pulls out his phone and grins at whatever he finds waiting on his screen.

“What’s so funny, jerk?”

Bucky shakes his head, content to sit there and wait for Steve to finish the plate.

Knowing he won’t leave without Steve eating everything, Steve takes another bite. Each new fork or spoonful, he shoots Bucky a look, only getting a smug smirk in return. When Steve finally finishes the plate, he sets it aside and goes back to his computer screen. He’s almost certain Bucky won’t be sticking around too long, having enjoyed the small break he’d gotten in feeding Steve.

When one of their cooks happens to walk by, Bucky notices, too, and shouts out, “Hey, we get that order from the bakery down the street yet? I wanna make sure they sent along some of their best treats.”

Steve’s attention returns to Bucky.

Before he knows it, Bucky smacks his knees and pushes to his feet. With an efficient movement born of years in the kitchen, he grabs up Steve’s empty plate and turns toward the door.

“Hey, punk, you might wanna freshen up. We’re getting a special guest tonight. Maybe this time, you’ll man up and shoot your shot.”

Steve’s brows furrow at Bucky’s words.

At least they do until Jensen walks by with an excitement Steve hasn’t seen in a few months.

“Did you hear, Boss Man?” Jensen asks as he tells Steve about the reservation that’s just come in.

A reservation for one in your name.

*****

You check your new outfit a final time in the mirror, satisfied with your efforts. The makeup you’ve chosen for the evening is minimal since you’re only interested in pleasing yourself.

Almost a year wasted with a man who never appreciated you. A man who wanted to shape and mold you into some ideal that you could never be, never wanted to be.

Six months without visiting one of your favorite places in the entire world. All because that same man had been so jealous of the attention you got from everyone there but especially from one Steve Rogers.

Oh, you can only hope that you might see Steve again that evening, having missed his sweet smile most of all these last several months. He’d been one of the first there to make you feel welcome. One by one, so did the others, but you always came back because of Steve.

Part of you wishes still that he would’ve made a move on you during one of your many visits to the steakhouse over the past few years. Maybe then he would’ve saved you all those months with someone less deserving of you and what you had to offer.

He never did though.

So, you accepted the two of you would just be friendly toward one another, just like you were with all the others there.

You can live with that.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you grab up your jacket and purse.

A final glance in the mirror to ensure your outfit is still perfect for the night you have planned. It’s during this time that your phone pings with the arrival of your Uber.

The ride to the steakhouse takes you through the familiar streets you’ve missed. It amazes you how much they have stayed the same though there are some changes that surprise you. Your favorite used bookshop’s doors have shuttered, but the café you used to visit almost every morning still thrived. A couple of new tiny shops have opened while others remain with a couple that have closed. The eclectic collection of shops was what drew you to this area in the first place when you’d been looking at universities.

Anger fills you for a moment at how manipulative your ex had been with your routine and your life. How could you let him work you like he did? How could he take the very things that made you happiest because he couldn’t handle his own feelings of jealousy and inadequacy?

So many of the hours you used to spend on these few streets, window shopping and getting to know the owners of the shops. They’d been lost to you when you let your ex into your life. Friends lost because of him. You could only wonder what they’ve been up to these past months while you’ve slowly descended into a level of hellish isolation you never wished to be in again.

As the steakhouse appeared in front of you, you perk up. Your hands automatically fidget as they run over your outfit to ensure the few wrinkles from sitting in your Uber didn’t remain when you step out in a few minutes.

A part of you hopes that Steve and all the others haven’t forgotten you.

Yet, why would they remember you?

Friendly or not, you’re still just a customer to them. A good tipper, sure, and always courteous to every employee from the bussers to the owners. You’ve never had a reason to complain about the food or the service from them, and you always tried to make sure they had no reason to complain about you.

Over the years, you’ve even gotten to know a bit about each of them. Jake’s inability to flirt despite giving him lessons whenever he served you. Nat’s intense loyalty to those she works with and her regulars, including you. Sam’s sweet but serious nature. Bucky’s strive for perfection with each dish that leaves the kitchen. Ari’s innate ability to know just what drink you need the moment you step inside (always a mocktail for you). Peter’s awkward friendliness that’s just downright infectious.

Then, there’s Steve.

Oh, you’ve learned a lot about him over the last couple of years.

He’s never been one to back down from the rowdier customers, standing firmly on the side of his staff. It’s something you’ve seen firsthand a time or two, and you’re always impressed with the way he manages to keep his anger in check. At least, inside the restaurant. You’re not unaware of the bloody knuckles he’s come back in with after escorting these obnoxious customers from his place. No doubt they deserved it, but you did worry about the consequences for him and the possibility of pressed charges.

Steve’s also been the first to lend a helping hand to those less fortunate in the neighborhood. If it’s not a free meal to help refill their empty stomachs, it’s offering them small tasks for which he handsomely pays them, even those that take less than ten minutes. He always makes sure they get enough to help through the day or even a few days. You’ve seen the kindness that comes from him and his staff, and it’s one of the many reasons your crush on him hasn’t dwindled over the years. No, it’s blossomed in ways you kinda wished it wouldn’t. There’s little hope of him ever seeing you as anything more than a valuable customer.

You’re brought out of your reverie when your Uber driver clears their throat.

Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and wrap up your business with them, stepping from the car and waving them off.

The large wooden doors leading into the steakhouse speak of an understated elegance and welcome that calls out to you. Beckons you to enter the establishment and know you’re among friends, among family.

It’s a feeling you’ve missed greatly these last several months.

Taking a breath, you pull one of the doors and step into the small entryway. The glazed inner doors don’t hide the rich interior within though they do lend some privacy to those already inside. The place is packed as usual with some guests standing or sitting on either side of the entryway, waiting for their tables.

You smile as you catch sight of a familiar face standing next to an unfamiliar one at the host stand.

Without hesitation, you open the glazed door while your smile widens into a full grin. “Well, well, well, aren’t you looking spiffier than ever, Sam?”

Sam’s head shoots up and his smile matches your own. He steps around the stand and closes the distance between the two of you. A low whistle comes out as he moves his finger in a circular motion, getting you to give him a small spin. Another whistle escapes him.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. It hasn’t been the same since we last saw you here.”

The soft reprimand isn’t missed, but you don’t hesitate when he embraces you, his forgiveness as quickly given. In your ear, he adds softly, “He hasn’t been the same.”  

Your brows furrow at this new piece of information.

Yet, you’re not given a chance to think on his words before Sam’s sweeping you away from the foyer and deeper into the steakhouse.

“Come, your table isn’t ready just yet, but I know some other people who want to see your lovely face again.”

Within a few more steps, he’s pulling out a barstool at the full bar off to the side of the steakhouse. Another friendly face turns to greet you with a big grin on his fully bearded, handsome face.

“Ari,” you say with another genuine smile for the man behind the bar.

Sweeping his longer than before locks from his face, Ari flashes you a grin of his own. “Gorgeous, long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Doing much better since I dropped the one-eighty anchor weighing me down.”

Ari’s grin grows. “Good riddance. For your good fortune, I have just the thing for you. One of my newest concoctions that I think you’ll enjoy. On me.”

“Oh, no, I can’t let you do that.”

You’re not allowed to go any further as Ari’s large hand settles over yours. His gaze softens into one of sheer fondness and full sincerity. “Yeah, you can. We’ve all missed you. It hasn’t been the same since you stopped coming in.”

“I’m just a customer,” you say, not fully understanding.

Ari shakes his head. A sympathetic smile takes over his original welcoming grin. “You’ve really no idea what you’ve been to all of us, have you?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, setting about mixing various ingredients in the special station he created some time ago. You lose track of all that he’s mixing and matching until he finally pours the concoction in a glass and tops it with a tiny umbrella in your favorite color.

The explosion of flavors that come has you wiggling a happy little dance on the stool. While you can’t help thinking the mix shouldn’t work, it does in ways that are pleasant and hits you with a burst of such happiness. It’s such that you can’t help taking another long sip.

“Oh, you’re a true genius, Ari.” Your words are punctuated with a sip. “Mm, I love it. I’ll have to make this a standing order every time I come in from now on.”

Beaming, Ari taps the bar. “I’m holding you to that, gorgeous.”

Another customer ends up taking Ari away, but it’s just as well. You’re more than content to continue sipping your new favorite mocktail, one of many Ari’s presented to you. The man’s a notorious flirt, watching him rake in several tips over the next few minutes, but he’s also a connoisseur when it comes to alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

He comes back at the same time Sam reappears.

“Your table is ready, pretty lady.”

Saying a quick farewell to Ari, you take Sam’s offered elbow and allow him to lead you to what you believe is your usual table.

It’s more than a little surprising when he sweeps past the main dining area and through a hallway towards what you assume are the back offices and other personnel only rooms. He doesn’t stop until he pushes open a door and reveals a table set for two in a private room.

“What’s all this? Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam merely grins as he leads you to the table and holds out your chair for you. It’s only after he’s given you a menu you don’t need that he says, “I’m trying to make sure Bucky wins the bet this time.”

“Bet? What bet? You have a bet that concerns me?”

Rather than answer, Sam shoots you a wink and disappears through the door, closing it softly behind him.

A moment later, soft music drifts through hidden speakers. The melody is low but romantic though that does little to answer any of the questions this evening’s brought so far.

*****

Steve’s just finishing up the last of the paperwork when Bucky barrels into his office.

“She’s here, punk.” Bucky slams his door shut and gives Steve a thorough though quick once-over. “Is that what you call freshening up? I’m never going to win my money back from Sam if you keep this up.”

“Aren’t you slammed right now? What are you doing here?”

Bucky waves his hand in dismissal. “Everett’s got it for the next few minutes. I’m here to make sure you don’t mess this up a second time.”

Steve’s trying to follow his best friend. Really, he is.

Bucky just isn’t making much sense at this point.

“Mess what up? Buck—”

Another wave of Bucky’s hand has Steve going silent. Strong hands move his chair out of the way before he’s being tossed a garment bag.

“I had Nat pick this up before she clocked in. It should still fit, so hurry up and put it on. You can’t keep a beautiful woman waiting too long.”

Still not following but at least complying for the moment, Steve unzips the bag and finds a nice button-down shirt with what appear to be new pants. A suit jacket completes the look though he’s unsure why he needs such clothing.

“Nat’s got a good eye,” Bucky muses aloud as Steve pulls the ensemble from the bag. “That color will certainly impress her. Now, come on. We don’t have all night here.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve hurries to change his clothes.

If Bucky’s going to be like this, it’s easier to just go along and figure it out along the way. At least that’s been Steve’s experience every time Bucky’s been excited about something. It goes for everything from the latest technology to the ladies, and it’s been like this since the two became friends so many years ago.

The only time it really changed was the six months or so after they both discharged from the army. While they’d both seen combat, something happened to Bucky that he still refuses to discuss most days. Those were the hardest months of their friendship, but Steve refused to walk away, even when Bucky practically shoved him out the door a few times over.

Their eventual takeover of Bucky’s grandparents’ restaurant helped give them both a new direction and strengthened their friendship into something stronger than before they’d enlisted together.

His thoughts clear as he finishes putting on the shoes Bucky hands him, also in Steve’s size.

“Better?” Steve arches a brow at Bucky in question.

Another thorough once-over has Bucky reaching out and unbuttoning the top button of Steve’s shirt. A quick tug of the collar soon brings a grin to Bucky’s satisfied features. With a nod, he says, “Better. Let’s go win your girl, punk.”

*****

You aren’t left alone for long as Jake and Peter come into the room. While Jake’s carrying several items rather precariously, Peter follows him with flatware in their signature napkin wraps.

The fancy cloth’s colors have changed, you note, from a deep blue to a burgundy red. It’s a sign the steakhouse is gearing up for their fall season. Each season has its specific color as you learned from Nat some time ago. Something started by Bucky’s mom back when she and Bucky’s dad ran the restaurant.

“Hey, Pete, how’s school going?” you ask as the younger man moves out of Jake’s way.

Your gaze briefly leaves Peter’s face to take in the small crystal vase with a mini bouquet of seasonal flowers. Their signature glasses follow it on the table as well as everything else one might need at a steakhouse. The table soon overflows with all the items those in the main dining room have though the table itself is a bit too small to accommodate so much.

Peter pulls your attention back to him, saying, “I graduated a couple months ago. Classes at university aren’t bad though they’re not leaving me as much time to work as I’d like. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers promoted me to server as my graduation gift. They say I earned it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you did.” You grin at him, quite proud of him. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It’s okay.” Something in Peter’s voice tells you it’s not really, but he’s also not going to hold it against you.

Hoping to make amends for your absence in some way, you turn to Jake. “Well, maybe I can make it up to you if Jake here doesn’t mind sharing me with you tonight. I’d love to do something for such a momentous occasion, Peter. I know how hard you’ve worked through school and in school.”

Jake nods quite enthusiastically. “Not a problem with me. Nat might complain though.”

“No complaints from me,” Nat calls from the doorway, walking past with some plates from the kitchen. “He should be joining soon. Jensen. Parker, make sure he doesn’t screw this up again.”

“We’re not miracle workers,” Jake quips.

With that, Nat’s gone though you can make out her laughter down the hall.

Turning back to Jake and Peter, you ask, “Who is he? What is he not supposed to screw up?”

The two exchange a glance before Jake clears his throat and mumbles, “Boss Man.”

It might’ve been some time since you’d been at the restaurant, but you know Jake only calls one man that name in this place.

Steve.

You’re not sure what Steve has to do with you or why he’d be joining you. After all, you only made a reservation for yourself. The thought of someone else joining you hadn’t entered your mind.

Yet, you can’t say you don’t like the idea. You, in fact, really like it. It’s been something you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember and every time you’ve come here single. If only he had made a move, then maybe you might believe that he’s interested in you now. Nothing in the few years you’ve known him has hinted that he likes or liked you the way you like him.

Before you can get too far down that rabbit hole, another voice breaks the quiet of the room.

“There’s the most beautiful doll in the world.”

You smile as Bucky enters and pulls you from your seat for a hug.

“We’ve missed you around here. My kitchen staff has suffered dearly with your absence. Lost all their inspiration without your unique combinations.”

Shaking your head, you accept his kiss on your cheek and give him one in return.

“I’m sure you keep them on their toes plenty. It is nice to be back though. I’ve missed you all, too.”

Before he lets you go, he whispers, “If the punk is too dumb to shoot his shot, I just might if it means keeping you around. You light up this place in ways it hasn’t since my ma retired.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back.

Leave it to Bucky and the others to make you feel so special even after such a long time being gone. It’s your sincerest hope to never stop coming here, not letting anyone keep you away from somewhere you’ve always felt welcome and wanted.

“You’re very cute,” you whisper back, “but you’re not really my type.”

He chuckles, not offended in the least. It’s not the first time you two have had this conversation. It probably won’t be the last, either, which suits you just fine.

At last, he releases you from his loose hold.

“I should get back to the kitchen. Don’t need Everett or the others to burn it down.”

You shake your head fondly. “Give Curtis more credit than that. He’s a wonderful sous chef, and you’re lucky to have him. I’m glad you took my thoughts to heart where he’s concerned.”

“How could I not? You’ve never led us astray before,” Bucky says, shooting you a wink and a farewell nod. His heavy footsteps can be heard on their way back to the kitchen where he’s always felt his most calm.

When your gaze follows Bucky’s path, it soon collides with the one person you’ve been hoping to see all day.

Your smile grows once more. It’s almost certain your cheeks will be sore in the morning from all the smiling you’ve done this evening. In a breath, you say his name.

“Hey, bijou,” he says, his voice low but warm.

You do your best not to fidget, to seek out any invisible wrinkles in your outfit.

It’s taking everything in you to keep your gaze locked with his even as you take in the navy-blue suit he’s wearing. No tie and the top button unbuttoned does something for him in ways you’re wholly unprepared for. This man is too handsome by half, and he doesn’t even know it. How fair is that to any poor woman who happens upon him?

At last, you find your voice. “You look handsome. Big date?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer as Nat walks by again. She’s wearing a big smirk when she says, “If he’s not a complete idiot, it is.”

Your confusion isn’t lessening while Steve sends a look at Nat though he relaxes a bit, his voice almost amused. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Not only are my tables handled, boss, but I have time to make sure you win your lady.”

You don’t miss the way Nat’s gaze trails to you, her smirk intact, before she returns her attention to Steve.

“Don’t mess it up,” she says, moving away, “boss.”

The offended incredulity on Steve’s face has you fighting laughter. You’ve never seen him quite so put upon and by his staff, no less. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t tease him from time to time as you’ve witnessed. This is the first time though that the rest of the staff has joined in. You honestly can’t help wanting to laugh at the spectacle, even if you don’t quite get what they’re trying to do and what it has to do with you.

Steve seems to shake himself when his gaze finds yours. His throat clears before he finally says, “You are stunning, bijou. Special occasion?”

“Yeah. Celebrating me.” You can’t help the heat that rushes into your cheeks as you say the words. They’re so much easier to consider when you think them, but saying them aloud is something else entirely. You quickly add, “I also really missed this place.”

I missed you.

You manage to keep that thought from spilling out, leaving you open for rejection.

Eager to keep that thought from coming out, you glance around the sparsely decorated room. It’s clear this wasn’t a private dining area before, but no clue exists on what it was before the others must’ve hastily redecorated this space. For what purpose, you can’t say with any certainty.

Yet, there is a hope.

The room might not have much, but it does have enough to appear something cozy, something charming. Maybe a bit more mood lighting, then the others would succeed in whatever they were creating.

When your gaze finally returns to Steve, you swallow.

He remains in the doorway, but the look he has while watching you is something you’re not wholly prepared for. One corner of his mouth is curled upwards while his eyes are soft but focused solely on you. It’s almost like he hasn’t stopped looking at you as you take in the room. That’s a heady sensation indeed for you as you haven’t experienced that ever.

Not any of your exes. Especially not Brock. Not in the way Steve’s doing anyway.

There’s wonder and perhaps longing staring back at you.

It’s that look that compels you to ask, “Would like to join me? I mean, if you don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“I’d really like that if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he says, pushing off the doorway.

You shake your head. “I don’t mind.”

*****

Main Masterlist

[notacyborg]

Thoughts!

I really hate Gerrard and how he is treating everyone, everyone, and this isn't anti-Eddie, but my dude, you are a boot licker to the max, like not even Hen and Chim are as bitched out as you are. I love you, man, and I'm going to put it up to you dealing with Chris. Gerrard punishing Buck for saving that girl and her mom was some bullshit. Then, telling him the grown-ups will handle the bees when he is hell competent at his job is just putting lives at risk. Got I hate that man. Oh man, Buck saving him from the circular saw! But cracking his skull on the pavement. So either the golfing is a nightmare, or golfing is a thank you and trying to win Buck over. Is the bitch going to be down for the count... Buck is going to have consequences for this; I can speculate what they might be. Gerrard will either try to pull Buck in because of it or suspend him for assaulting a superior. 2. YAY, House hunting, but how dare they put Athena through this bullshit, ohhh they are pulling a Jeffery Epstein. This could be interesting. Oh man, she's going to have to fly; I hope we have a certain flying firefighter to talk her through landing. 3. The bees are great, but man, Buck, your praise kink is showing; I need a fic now where Tommy just praises Buck in a daddy-dom way for how good he did or just comforts him after the bullshit with Gerrard. But like I really do wonder what the fallout from tackling Gerrard is going to be. I really don't think he's sustainable for network TV in the long run because of how horrible he is. I do want to know what his Connection with Ortiz is, and if he got her Hen's file. I think Ortiz is going to be the long-term problem this season. 4. I feel so bad for Eddie, the shit with Chris and his mom, and his mom not even taking the camera with her to sing happy birthday, and like the way she's talking to Eddie when Chris isn't there is fucked up given what's going on. 5. The Buck Tommy scene is everything I wanted, freak4freak and geek4geek. I can't wait to see them work through their baggge and have a few hurdles and how much they grow, I'm not getting my hopes up, but I hope they are long haul and that Hen calls them U-Hal Lesbians by ep 6. Maybe Buck Tommy End Game.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 32

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 6k

A/N: I fear its safe to say I don't do well with change. I moved back to school and couldn't find my groove. Who knew I just needed a little ovulation and commute to work time to bang this one out. Chapter 33 will be arriving shortly.

Well Javier was on the floor. Without a complaint. The two of you didn’t stay too long at the fair considering each ride had a wait time of forty five minutes. In the car you decided to keep your hotel but still be open to staying over, when it was appropriate.  So now you’re on his bed, back in one of his shirts. Surrounded by him. Criss crossed while he’s sat up on the floor. 

“You could come up here.” You offer, removing your rings and placing it on his nightstand. Already claiming his space as your own, too natural for you. The offer has him quirking a brow. It was a test, you know he shouldn’t. Shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” He settles into the mattress, pulling the blankets to his shoulders. “We could talk like this.” Grunting from adjusting his newly relaxed body. You move forward on your stomach so that he could see you. Resting your head on your arms. You smile feeling like two kids at a sleepover, whispering and peering over the bed to see if the other fell asleep yet.

“Good you passed that one. Let's continue shall we?” 

The game of 21 questions was more like two hundred questions and it continued all the way into the house. 

Did you date?

I thought you asked me not to tell you about all of that.

I said I don't want to hear about Camila or Daniela or whoever.

You remember their names?

Yes, I couldn’t sleep and thought about a Camila under you. He flexes his jaw at that. 

I went on two dates, which were set up by my partner Steve Murphy and his wife. They ended with goodbyes after dinner. Never spoke to them again.

I went on some dates too. 

I don’t want to hear about that. You pinch him on the elbow and he shrugs. We’re different about that stuff, I hate to hear it. You nod and get the urge to apologize but fight it. 

Now in bed he clears his throat, “Alright. Tell me what your apartment looks like?”

You smile, “It’s a steal for the area. I actually have a bedroom for the price of a studio. My rooms a bit more eclectic than my one here. My bedding is white but my room walls are a burgundy color. There’s no closet so I have a clothing rack. None of my living room furniture is new… it’s all second hand from stoop sales or whatever. My birds shit without batting an eye so I opted not to be dumb about that. What did yours look like?”

His eyes are closed for a moment like he’s trying to imagine it. “Hmmm.. it was dim in there, always. The kitchen and living room were open, a few steps to lead you to the living room. I had a leather couch and a desk. My television was pretty nice. Nothing was really– mine. I tried not to make it feel lived in because I didn’t want to get attached to that place–that world.” There’s a face that you’ve never really seen from him until you’ve been here. It’s one nearly blank but you know the way his face moves, there's a small crease in his brows and he clenches his jaw. Like talking about Colombia pained him and he has to conceal it. Almost like a child admitting to their faults after a spanking. Quiet, embarrassed, unsure, and on the verge of breakdown. “You would have hated it there.”

Probably. You just nod the best you can while laying down. Waiting for his question. 

“Um…” He closes one eye, like it’ll help him think. He opts to go silent for a moment like he conjured a question but was waging his options. 

Should I? Is this a line I shouldn’t cross? Is the wound still open? “Have you heard from your father?” 

You frown for a second. Off put and taken off guard. Remembering the day, remember the rolling grass, low hanging branches and the cold demeanor from the one person she needed warmth from. Hearing urgent and violent words like I love you. Promising to take care of you. 

“No. I never went back there. He never called me even though I’m sure my grandmother told him I moved to Louisiana. I stopped needing him after I got to know him.” You rarely thought of him, just the concept of being without a parent. Then you became an educator and realized that anyone you call family is your own. Your students taught you that, so did Javier years earlier but you suppose maybe you weren’t ready to accept it yet. 

Javier hums to himself, staring at the ceiling. Contemplating if he should really share the way he had felt. Afraid it would break some rule in this delicate game you’ve got going. Wondering if you’ll furrow your brow and turn you back to sleep or internalize what’s climbing up, up, up his throat. 

“If this is… against your rules you don’t have to say anything or we could move on…”

“Okay.”

Again he can’t look at you. How is it that you reduce him to a shy young boy? 

“There’s nothing more that I want in life than to be the father of your kids.” There he goes leaping over the bounds to which he’s left in, but he can’t help it. It’s all he thinks about, all he thought about three years ago and it plagued him every time you spoke of your own father. He doesn’t see you but he can feel your eyes closed, silent, internalizing it all. After all, you'd never turn your back on him. “No one will ever know you like me. Love you, sure, but not as much as me. You’re too easy to love. But I know that you could show me what a mother looks like and I could show you what a father looks like. Our kids will never be in pain the way we were. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable or-or confused. It’s all I thought about when I was away. And I’m so sorry for ever making you think I didn’t want you in that way.” Because he should have known that it was a deep point of insecurity for you, a deep well created by your parents. Urge to be loved, to create something and love it in a much fiercer and kinder way than your parents did you. Lorraine being able to have all that you wanted came like slice to the stomach. 

Sniffling, you rub your face into the crook of your arm. Hiding from Javier. He looks this time and he doesn’t try to hold your hand like you’re itching for. 

“Thank you… I—.” You wipe your face. Not willing to open the can of worms this could conjure if you just told him straight up that you’d be willing to start now. Fuck the trial, fuck trying to learn each other again, let’s start a family. Be irrational but be happy. You decide to keep it together. You thank him and he knows it’s genuine, you see it in his eyes. He understands your reluctance. “I found that I don’t have the need for many people in my life-“

“I need you.” He says before you. Like he did when he said he loved you. Throat bobbing, he pulls his sheets over him. “I’ll wait for you, until you need me again.”

“Can never get enough of each other huh.” Chucho chuckles while washing his hands in the sink. Boots clean and squeaking against the floor. It was a part of his routine, cleaned his boots every night even if he worked the next morning. 

Last night you fell asleep with your face buried into the crook of your arm. Hand dangling off the mattress, grazing Javier’s neck. Need to touch, woke up with a sore arm. Bleary eyed you notice there’s no-body by the bed. Silent but the sound of running water. 

That’s how you found Chucho, ready for the day at 8 am. Embarrassingly you pad into the kitchen in Javier’s shirt and boxers. 

You shrug, he hands you a cup of coffee. Nodding a thank you, “We have established clear boundaries. We are just spending quality time. We have a lot to make up for.” You say it with a bit of a half awake half still dreaming slur that has Javier’s father beaming. 

“Well if that’s what you’re calling it nowadays, so be it. I won’t be back until four pm.” He places his cup down and starts walking away. Your jaw drops and you nearly run after him. But you know he’s fucking with you, his shoulders bounce. 

“It’s not like that!” You call and he waves a hand at you over his shoulder and steps straight out of his own home. Screen door slamming with a brisk breeze. 

You hear a sneeze, “What’s not like that?” Your head snaps and eyes lock with Javier’s. Freshly showered, hair so wet it droops on his forehead. He looks younger this way. Grey shirt loose with jeans to match. Socked feet, he looks like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. At least seeing him like this makes you want to find a nest for yourself in his bed. You can’t help but smile at him. 

He’s skeptical of your cheery mood. Brows furrowing, nostrils flared but a hint of a smile. He’s cautious, like he knows you’re up to something. You aren’t, at all. You’re just giddy and it’s only been two days and you feel your boundaries loosening. Just wanting to find that place you yearn for. Just run to him now, kiss him, tell him to put a baby in you. Grab, pull, lick, love, whatever came with it. You decide to control yourself a bit. 

Your eyes drop to his hands, he’s holding three VHS tapes. Your brows furrow just the same, wondering what movie he wanted to see with you. It wasn’t a thing the two of you ever did. Your time spent was short and only for conversations and kisses. And pot, back before everything. You had to stop smoking after getting your teaching gig. 

You want to say something bratty like, assuming I’m staying for some home videos? But you can’t even do that, lord when did you become such a softie? “Big plans?” Is all you can manage to croak.

He shrugs, “Are you staying?” He says it without shame, you know it must take a lot for a man to nearly beg. You know he means please stay. 

You look at him once more and down at your boxer clad legs. Shrugging. “I suppose”

Eric Fredricks' family owned a Haitian restaurant off main street. It was a small take out spot that had been bustling with business since 1961. Eric was your classmate. A friend of everyone, known for his large digital camera he carried around school. The loud, goofy kid shoved his damn camera in everyone’s faces. Annoyed or not, he would always say, “When you fuckers are forty you’re really going to appreciate these recordings!” 

Well, each year he cut, edited and burned these tapes as his own NR rated yearbook videos. Selling them around school and you bought one each year. He was chill with the price for you just because you always perked up in front of his camera. Ready to gleam and answer whatever stupid questions he had like;

“Andrea, how does it feel to be the worst lacrosse player in Laredo history?”

“Or Andrea, what are your thoughts on today’s LHS Chilli special? “ 

You always answered with the same slapstick humor he had. You thought you lost these tapes years ago. Javier seemed to remind you that you left them at his house, might’ve been when Javier was in Houston.

 He was right, your mother’s VHS player stopped working in 1982. You remember popping these tapes in and watching them during your winter break from Miami. Chucho snoring on the lazy boy, saved him from watching the closest thing he had to a daughter do a keg stand with her skirt flipped up towards her chest. 

“I’ve never seen these.” Javier grunts when he straightens back up and walks to sit next to you on the brown couch. A couch with the tendency to swallow you whole. You remember Javier on his knees before you, pillow covering your spread legs while he unlaced your boots. 

“Well you left so…” You grab the control and snicker, pressing play.

“Hah. Hand me that.” he gestures to the pack of cigarettes on the side table. You shake your head no and settle into the seat. “Cmon.” 

“No. No smoking in the house.” You snap at the tv, “Watch.” 

It’s Eric’s face, he’s sitting in his bedroom. “Hello. I’m Eric Fredricks. I’m fifteen and my passion is digital media. The yearbook club is full of hacks and strokes, so I’m going to make my own. The date is September 21st 1979. Ok bye!” the film glitches and the camera makes its way down the hall. Faces of people who you haven’t seen in years. Hairstyles forgotten, thank god. Winks at the camera, sly comments from Eric behind it. He asks questions in his interview segment that would never make it to the school's video yearbook. 

“What does Eric do now?” Javier asks. It’s easy to forget that he missed so many crucial moments. He missed the infamous lunch box incident in 81', Laredos first soccer championship, the halloween rager that led to the assembly—all of that. You wonder if that’s normal, for the development of a person. To be plucked out of childhood and forced to be an adult while everyone else got to worry about if their drivers test aligned with their basketball practice schedule. Burdened with the responsibility of a person's livelihood is no place for a seventeen year old. 

You bring your knees to your chest, finding the most comfort when you're guided and held. “Last I heard he was doing media production for Saturday Night Live. Like in New York City.”

He feels it too, you see the way his brows quirk. How he almost frowns. “That’s crazy—how different things went for everyone else.” You knew at that moment that the tape would be mere background noise. 

“You— you know you made a name for yourself too.” 

Hm. 

You weren’t sure if that’s what you wished to say. He doesn’t get upset with you for it. He chooses to let it slide and for that you’re grateful because you hadn’t had a clue about what to say to him. 

“Yeah.” He chuckles but doesn’t seem to be that amused. He pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning his head against the back of the couch. There’s not much to be said anymore. Lorraine changed the fabric of his being, so did the DEA. And maybe you too. His hand splayed on his knee, knuckles red from repeated trauma to the area. You opted to abandon the topic in general. Seeing his stomach tighten up under the thin fabric of his t-shirt when the choice was your hand on his. Small, soft, against his. 

The two of you relish in the harmless intimacy, you give each other this. Tiny touches could be enough. 

The two of you watch the bootlegged documentary in mostly silence. Rotating who strokes the other with their thumbs. You think about turning your cheek, kissing him. Pressing close and making out for a bit. A casual make out, breathy and gripping. You decide against it. This would be so easy if it was anyone else but him. 

It’s not because you feel like you can’t control yourself—it’s not like a make out with Javier Peña would have your panties at your ankles. You could control yourself more than that. What it is—is that you’ll take advantage of those little liberties. Sneaking kisses at any time and when you go back home, you’ll be lost without it. 

Maybe you’re doomed anyway, because if this doesn’t work out you don't know what you’ll do knowing you can’t just hold his hand. 

Your brother comes out on halloween with a fang induced lisp drunkenly reciting the alphabet backwards at a party while Eric cackles behind the camera. It makes you laugh so hard you cry, missing being young. Missing your brother. 

Lorraine pops up. High ponytail with red cheeks from gym class. Hands on her hips, it’s wrong for such an evil person to be so beautiful. You look at Javier and there’s a frown on his face. 

He wonders why she was so bad to him, what he did to deserve to be plagued by her. He regrets knowing her, it’s hard for him to watch her smile. 

Then you show up and Javier’s eyebrows raise. “I remember that day.” He mutters. There you are, looking the same just with that baby fat at the apple of your cheeks. Your hair was the closest to its natural brown, your pants were severely high waisted and your shirt a lacy shawl like thing. You’re at a locker taping a flier about lacrosse tryouts when the camera rushes you.

“Andrea Diaz! How does it feel to be Laredos worst lacrosse player?” Javier snorts next to you, squeezing your hand. That’s what he would do, come up to you and ask the dumbest, rudest questions. There, a fifteen year old Andrea rolls her eyes and rolls her thumb to secure the tape. 

Crossing her arms, “I’ll answer your dumb questions if you’re nicer about it.” You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding awfully juvenile. Javier’s entire demeanor goes soft. All it took was the sound of you—back then, for him to forget the panic in his gut when watching Lorraine in her prime. 

“Alright sure-sure- Andrea Diaz how does it feel to be the sexiest girl in all of Laredo?” Eric had quite the country accent, it made every line delivered feel like that of a typecasted movie star. 

Quirking a brow, “I wouldn’t know. I could ask your mother.” 

“All right that’s enough! You’re impossible to please ,woman!” Eric yells from behind the camera and it fades in little blocks to you getting set up for a keg stand. 

You’re in a skirt and a flowing yellow top. Stumbling a bit, Daniel holds your shoulder to keep you upright. You try not to think too hard about the images you’ve left in people’s minds while you were drunk. Javier is getting more and more tense each passing moment. His hold on your hand becomes just a hold and no longer a soothing stroke. 

You’re cringing at yourself, flipping your hair and chanting that you could do it while Daniel holds your waist. Hands trailing over your stomach, you almost forget that before Javier you had your fair share of hookups, him your most consistent. 

The date on the corner March 1st 1980. 

Drunkenly you lean forward and another one of your peers holds your other leg while another shoves a tap in your mouth. The entire party off screen and on, start chanting your name with whoops. That’s when your skirt flips and exposes the plain blue panties. 

You cover your eyes. 

“I don’t like this.” Is all that Javier can say, on the screen no one covers you until a random classmate of yours, Jenna? Or was it Jessa? Runs to your aid and calls all the men pigs before holding your skirt in its place. You’re dropped down and again you stumble backward into the arms of your pseudo boyfriend. 

And then you yak all over the floor.

 “Jesus christ I forgot about that.” You rub your eyes afraid to look over at Javier. 

“Did—anything-“

“No. Well I think we went to someone’s room and made out. Then I walked home.” 

His head nearly falls off his shoulders. “He let you walk home like that?” Javi grits, letting go of your hand. 

You shrug, “Dunno, high school shit.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

Your brows furrow, he’s being ridiculous but you know he can’t help it. He wanted—wants, nothing more than to take care of those he loves. You watch the video back, seeing your young eyes and wish to take care of her too. You can’t even imagine him. He only lets you know the surface level of his concern for you. You know it’s more than wishing you had called him. 

You had before, panicked and blushing using the party home phone. 

You decide calling him ridiculous would be in bad faith. You just lean your head on his shoulder. Moving your hand from his and holding his bicep instead. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. Face softening along with his tense shoulders. “I don’t know. I was sixteen and stupid. And drunk.” Your cheek feels too good there. 

He’s studying you. You wished you could read him in these moments. When he’s so in his head, he’s taking you in completely. “Can you? Now I mean.”

Your lips quirk and the apples or your cheeks redden. Pulling your brows because sometimes he’s too sweet it gives you a toothache. “I live in New York, Javi.” 

“I know.” He’s close enough to kiss. “But I want you to call me anyway. If you ever feel unsafe or unsure—i know how twisted a human can be—i’ve seen-“

There it is. He’s cut off by a kiss on his shoulder.

 “I will.” It’s a featherlight whisper and he does that thing again. That look, this time with a bit of restraint. The two of you focus on the screen again.

Twenty minutes into the forty-six minute video the two of you revert back to telling stories about the students on the screen and laughing at how high school, your high school experience really was.

“This is great, hottest couple in the school right in front of me.” Eric laughs, camera pointed at the ground then quickly shot up. Blurring than focusing on Javier at his locker. He looked so young, red cap on his head with a Righteous Brothers t-shirt. The image of him as a seventeen year old in your head had been fading for a few years, but now you’re watching him living, breathing and moving as himself. Smiling once he sees Eric approaching him. 

“What the fuck was I wearing?”

You laugh, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Don’t know but I was obsessed with you anyway.”

He makes one of those grunts where you can’t tell if he’s annoyed with himself or with you. You nudge his shoulder with your chin. “What?”

“Makes me feel like such an asshole.”

All you could do was sigh. You know he’d give it all to do it over again. You look at Lorraine and there seems to be love there. It never fails to make your blood boil. You know that loving Javier can make you feel sick, crazy or desperate. But you suppose her love was selfish. For a while you felt like your own love was selfish, not caring for the consequences. But you suppose it was just a natural progression. Miles away from scheming to keep him forever, by ways of manipulation. The look in his eye isn’t the same since you left him. 

A young Javier takes Lorraine’s jaw in his hand and kisses her cheek. She rolls her eyes. “He’s obsessed with me.” She smiles and he mumbles a yeah. Your cheeks heat in a rage that’s so juvenile, you want to turn off the entire thing. Maybe this was a shitty idea. Watching your most insecure and turbulent years in front of you. You were obsessed with him, crying furious tears. Avoiding contact. While he was content with her. It’s a nerve that will always be left exposed. 

He clears his throat. 

“Were you?” You bite. Removing your head from his shoulder, he sinks at the loss. Leaning forward to get a full image of your face. His brows are pulled together in confusion until they soften when he notices this is nothing but you showing him you are still so into him. 

He bites back a smirk and you want to smack it off of his face. “Was I what, querida?”

You swear you will-

“Obsessed with her.” Firm, no room for it to sound like a desperate question. This definitely breaks one of your rules. But fuck it, he’s flawed and so are you, 

He shuts an eye and shakes his head no. “I liked her. She was pretty. She was my girlfriend…”

You frown, that title belonged to you. 

There he is, an inch away from your face with such intensity. “But I would fuck her, and picture you. I imagined that you’d blush the whole time and would pretend like you couldn’t handle me just so I can fuck you harder. Would have to bury my head where she couldn’t hear because I’d come and say your name.” Your cheeks turn cherry red, just how he likes. Cunt pulsing, it betrays you. You’re so flustered and angry with him you want to lean forward and bite him. He doesn’t waiver, he leans much closer. You shudder, feeling crowded by his body. He has the strength to do what he’d like with you, you’re sure you’d put on a fight until you’re unable to lie anymore. You had been soaked the whole damn time. “What? Have I broken your rules?” He whispers, nose nudging your own lightly. You can’t help it, your mouth parts searching for his—

But he backs away and laughs at you. He laughs! Shaking his head like you’re some bastard child. Leaning back cooley and pressing play again. Lorraine’s voice ringing through the speakers. 

Absolutely not. 

You sit in silence. Staring at him while he’s glued to the image of him and his ex girlfriend. Your chin quivers, and you clench around nothing.

“G-give me the remote.” You blurt. Chest falling, bubbling with anger. He doesn’t look at you but smirks. He ignores you. Eyes welling with tears. “Javi.”

More silence. More her. You reach for his hand and he doesn’t look at you. He isn’t looking at you… so you pounce. 

Jumping into his lap, clawing at him while he laughs and hurriedly finds different ways to keep you away from the remote. You’re seeping through your underwear and onto his boxers, your cunt rolling against his crotch unintentionally.

 Your brows screw—“Just—Javi please turn it off.” He chuckles again and he’s all of this without focusing on the pain you’re in. Emotionally, sexually, whatever. You reach around him lifting your hips to get ahold of the controller but you lose again. Bouncing on his lap a bit. He grunts.

“Javi— Please- I’m not kidding.” 

The tv shuts off with a wiring tone and his eyes finally land on your own. All the playfulness leaves when he realizes. And you feel like a heat sick kitten, rubbing on yourself this way. His brow raises, eyes falling to your tear stained cheek and down your grinding hips. You drop your face into his shoulder. At first he doesn’t touch you, he just watches you. Nose nudging your cheek. Wondering why after everything you’d give it up just to come quick like this. 

“Hey… hey.” He whispers at the shell of your ear. “Fuck—Andrea—“

You can only whimper into the crook of his neck. Taking your feel for the girl in those tapes, for the girl who dreamt of him while he did the same. It drove you crazy, it made you violent and horny. “Baby…” His big hands span from your shoulder blades down to  the small of your back and then splayed on your ass. Spreading you and rolling you harder. He grunts again. “Andrea… I can’t—we said we wouldn’t—I'm sorry for teasing you—cmon.” His hands move from your behind, come to your front, at your waist and lightly push  you away from him. 

He’s impossibly hard now, his tan cheeks have a bit more color now. He’s sweating. Feeling embarrassed, you freeze. Eyes dropped to his lap, cunt begging you to move again. You feel the length of him under you, mocking you. You shouldn’t. You know. You know he’s sorry for how rushed and stupid Christmas eve was. You’re still ticked off by it, but he’s doing so good for you. 

“I’m sorry… we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Is all you can muster out. 

“You know I want to.” He rushes, leaning forward so he can hold your face, it just makes him shift against you again. Your brows furrow at the release. 

“Okay…” A drop of sweat builds at the nape of your neck, the both of you are so turned on you’ll fuck each other if you keep this up. “Can we…can I…” You swear if he brings up your rules again you’ll crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. 

He juts his chin at you, egging you to complete your sentence. 

You think you’ll die before you say it. Your face brightens real red and you shimmy out of his hold. You crawl off his lap and mutter to yourself. “Sorry, it’s stupid. I should just go.” 

He catches your wrist and sits you back down next to him. “Tell me.”

“It’s stupid! And gross probably.”

“We aren’t children.” 

You’ve been so open sexually until now. You felt twenty two again, never having orgasmed with another person, afraid to tell him what you wanted. He gave you it all. 

“Can we— or can I touch myself?”

Javier’s eyes darken, “You want to touch yourself.” 

God it’s like he’s trying to humiliate you. 

“Yes.”

He clenches his jaw so tight. “Can I watch? Or do you want to go to my room alone?” 

Idiot. 

“Can we do it together? Now.” You can’t let the moment pass. 

Well, he can’t either. His nostrils flare and he places his hand on his belt. Unbuckling so fast you can’t help but watch. You watch him unbuckle and unzip while you shimmy out of his boxers. His eyes glued to your movements. You feel filthy exposing yourself like this. He lifts his hips and pulls his jeans down a bit, the heft of his cock making a print through his underwear. You remember leaning down and pressing your lips along his bulge once. You’d like to do it again. 

You circle your fingers along your clit over your panties. He palms himself. 

“Tell me what to do.” You whisper. 

“Oh.” He reaches into his boxers and pulls his length out. Your pussy clenches at the sight, a thatch of hair at the base and curved. You touched yourself to the thought of it. You pull your panties down and lift one leg up on the couch, spreading yourself open. “Give me your fingers.” 

You furrow your brow but remove them. Bringing your hand to him. His free hand grasps your wrists and he takes no time, he puts the same two fingers in his mouth. You gasp, while he sucks, stroking his dick at the same time. Your fingers are impossibly wet when he stops. Your wrist is still in his hold. “Don’t put any fingers in until I tell you. Just play with your clit for a little.” 

You nod, bringing your fingers back to it. Moving in tight circles. Javier’s fist is dry, working his way up and down his shaft— your lips gather with drool—you want to-

“Spit on it. If you want. Or I can.” He reads your mind. You take no time, moving to your knees, your knees knocked together giving you a tighter squeeze for your fingers. Feels even better. You lean into his lap, back arched like a kitten. 

Javier groans at the sight. You desperately want to put your mouth on him—my rules, my rules. Spit drips from your mouth and onto the red head of his pretty cock. His hand comes to the back of your head and you moan, wishing he’d push down and force himself into your mouth. But he just strokes the back of your head instead. You lean back into the arm of the couch, you’re no longer side by side. Your whole body is barred for him, you bring your free hand under your shirt. Grabbing your breast and rolling your fingers over your nipples. 

He uses your spit and moans audibly now. Grunting in his low baritone, you collect your slick and use it for slip. Your stomach tenses, “Put your finger in. Middle.” You nod and feel even more unsatisfied. “Fuck, I missed that pretty little face you make when something goes inside your cunt.”

“Javi…” You whine throwing your head back, fucking yourself with your small finger. 

“I know—fuck.” Pre-cum gathers all over the tips of his fingers. You’ll ask to lick his hand clean when you’re done. “I know your cunt wants my cock again—I’m sorry I can’t.”

“It’s not enough.” Your knees knock together in protest. 

“I know-I know. Add another baby. Ring.” You watch his stomach go taut so he slows down his strokes. Licking his lips at the sight of you adding another. “Mm. I miss you so much.” He shudders. 

“I’m right here.” 

“Please don’t leave me—fuck.” He whines, it’s so unlike him. You watch his tip surge through the tight hole he’s made for himself, he’s close but you’re closer. You can’t believe it’s him asking you this. “I want to follow your rules—show you I’m good—but please let me kiss you.” 

The ridges of your fingers aren’t enough, you use your other hand to circle your clit without permission. He’s so caught in his emotions that he doesn’t seem to care that you touched yourself without his command. 

He tells you what to do but truly he’s at your will. His eyes well with tears and his brows are pulled together. “Let me take care of you, I’ll do everything you say if you let me kiss you—“

“I can’t— I’m going to come!” Your back arches and it builds. You can’t see him now but you hear his pace, his fist slapping against his base. You writhe and shiver and it comes crashing down. You come hard, you mutter I’m sorry, over and over. And he groans at the sight, you can’t give him what he wants. 

You can try and give him something else. You catch your breath and open your eyes. Your own come dripping to the inside of your thighs. He watches in pain, “Baby—” You whisper, fuck that’s against the rules probably. He nods, submissive suddenly. “Come here, come on my cunt.” You want to be marked, he’s yours. 

“Andrea—“ still he’s fighting his need to follow your rules. 

You nod, “It’s okay, come here.” He lets his length go at once, it twitches at the sudden abandonment. You lean forward and grab his arms, and he finally climbs over you. Reluctant, “Please Javi. Let me have what I want.” Were you power tripping? Yeah. But it was always him in control. You open your legs and he clenches his jaw. “Do you want me to finish it?” 

He shakes his head no, you know he wants it. Still he tries to be good. You begin to touch yourself under him. He begins to jerk himself off inches away from your cunt. Your knuckles brush against each other and you're already climaxing again. He slaps faster, breathing heavily in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck—move your hand.” You do and he’s coming all over you. It shoots and covers the new growth of hair, it's warm against the bare part of you. Dripping and he instinctively slides his twitching, softening cock between your folds. The two of you gasp when just the tip of his cock prods your hole. Gasping at the way you pulse for him for that one second like muscle memory. “Sorry.” He mumbles, taking a hold of his still twitching and leaking length. He panics and tucks himself back into his boxers before he relaxes himself on you. 

He’s catching his breath, you think he’s crying against your shoulder. 

“It’s okay.” 

You hold the back of his head, hoping to soothe him. 

He had done this for you countless times. You find no issue doing it for him.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

people who write multiple fics at once, i would like some advice! i've historically been a one WIP at a time person but i want to give working on multiple projects at once another go — if you have any strategies for doing that, send them my way please (only if you feel like it, of course)

[ailinu]

should i probably have set a hard scope on the finduilas fic? yes. did i? absolutely not.

[witchywcmans]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Wasn't actually going to do a part 2 to this mafia!Price x pregnant reader drabble but a few people requested it so ...

I don't think this will be a long fic or a series or anything but if anyone has by particular requests for scenes, let me know!

You take the table's orders quickly and almost trip getting away from them.

John follows you immediately, of course, but if you can just get to the kitchen, he won't be able to follow you.

Or so you think.

The doors don't have time to swing shut behind you before they burst open again and you feel a hand on your waist, spinning you around to face him.

"You're taking your break," he tells you.

"I can't yet, I have tables. And-"

You see your manager approaching and brace yourself for the tirade.

"Sir, you can't be in h-"

He stops when he gets a proper look at John.

"Oh. Um, is there a problem, sir? Or some way I can-"

"She's taking her break," John tells him, jerking his thumb at you. Your manager just nods mutely and John takes your hand, leading you out the back entrance.

"Beat it," he tells the line cook, smoking by the bins. The man slinks back inside without a word.

As soon as you're alone, John shepherds you against the wall, arm on either side of you so you're walled in.

"It's mine?" he asks and you try not to be offended. It's a fair question, you suppose. You just nod, looking at your shoes. He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. You can't read the look on his face.

"Finish your shift. I'll wait."

+++++++

He takes you home, makes the others take a cab wherever they're going, and just gives you a look when you suggest you can take the bus.

He also insists on walking you inside. Your face warms at the way he's analysing your apartment building. When you hold the door to your place open for him, he rubs his hand along the doorframe, studying the lock, heads straight for the windows to do the same once he's inside.

"We'll need to get you moved out of here," he says when he finally turns around. You raise  your eyebrows.

"Is that right?" you ask. If he notices the sarcasm, he doesn't comment.

"Mmmhmm. Could get the lads to pack up your stuff for you, handle the movin'. We could have it done tonight"

"And where do you suggest I go?"

John smiles and sidles towards you.

"I could think of a few places," he says, raising his eyebrows. You huff a laugh.

"Hmm. But there's nothing wrong with my apartment."

John just hums.

"Not a good area," he tells you.

You start to feel your temper rise a little.

"Think whatever you want of the area; You don't get to walk in here and tell me-"

"Well I am telling you darlin'. I know these parts and 'round here isn't a good place for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" you ask flatly, crossing your arms. You force yourself not to move away from him as he gets in your space. You can smell him from here, the scent of his cologne, and doesn't that bring back memories.

He leans down so he's looking into your eyes properly.

"A good girl," he says.

You snort and turn away.

"Does that line usually work for you?"

In a second, you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you back against a hard chest.

"Worked before, didn't it?" His voice is raspy in your ear.

"You didn't mind being my good girl the last time we spoke, did ya, sweetheart? Or can you only be good when you're stuffed full?"

He presses harder against your back and you can feel the length of him now.

"'Cause I can help you with that, love, just you say the word."

You pull away, turn to look at him, with your chest heaving.

"Place like this could be dangerous for a girl like you," John says and it sounds like a warning.

"Aren't men like you what makes places like this dangerous?" you whisper.

He steps towards you again, slower this time, puts a hand on your hip. You don't pull away.

"Sometimes," he admits. "Not always. Need to make sure you're taken care of, from all the bad things out there. Goes for both of you."

"I don't need taken care of," you tell him. It would sound more convincing to your own ears if you could find it in yourself to pull your hand off his chest.

"No?" His hand suddenly dips between your legs and you jolt forwards into him.

"You been taking care of yourself here, hmm?" He starts to rub, over your work leggings, leans down so his head is nearly on your shoulder.

"Been taking care of this pretty pussy like it needs?" he asks, voice rough. "It was so needy that night we met, I was sure we'd go a few rounds. Why'd you run instead, sweetheart? I didn't even get a chance to taste it."

You can't answer, can't think, especially not when he shoves his same hand under your pants, sliding your underwear to one side for better access. Your head falls back when he touches your clit.

"Need me to take of you here, darlin'?"

You can't help your moan.

"Not good enough," he grunts. "Need you to say it, love. Say you need me to take care of this pussy."

And you've been so stressed for so long and, really, at this point, what harm could it possibly do?

"Please, please, John, I need you. I need-need-"

He quietens you with a kiss, leaning down to lift you by your thighs. The bump makes it a bit awkward but he doesn't falter as he makes his way to your room.

"All you needed to say, mama."

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[pretty-little-mind33]

fluff ✿ angst ✮ hurt & comfort ✷ smut (nsfm) ♥︎

main masterlist

disclaimer — i enjoy fandom created harry potter content but i DON'T support j.k rowling in any way!!

~ REQUESTS CLOSED ~

most popular - WILDEST DREAMS ✿ - Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

author's favorite - SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

latest work - PAPER RINGS ✿ - James is the best boyfriend while you're sick.

~ BLURB MASTERLIST ~

~ HEADCANONS ~

fem!reader with an abusive ex

fem!reader who is in a relationship with him

fem!reader who is nervous about the gym

~ FICS ~

James x debutant!reader

KING OF MY HEART ✿ - You and James are friends with benefits until daisies and an incident with one asshole Quidditch player stirs up some hidden (or not-so-hidden) feelings.

MAROON ✿ - James usually doesn't like violence but he'll fight anyone who bad-mouths his girlfriend.

LAVENDER HAZE ♥︎ - Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.

THIS LOVE ✿ - Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ✿✷✮ - You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.

FOOLISH ONE ✮ - James was and would never be yours.

TIMELESS ✿✷ - James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.

ENCHANTED ✿ - Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London. Prequel to Timeless

SWEETER THAN FICTION ✿ - After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard. Pt. 2 of Enchanted

YOU ARE IN LOVE ✿ - You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

GLITCH ♥︎ - You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.

STAY BEAUTIFUL ✿✷- When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.

SANTA BABY ✿ - James wants to make his family's Christmas special.

SNOW ON THE BEACH ✿✷ - When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.

NEW ROMANTICS ✿✷ - When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

COLD AS YOU ✷✮ - You want your boyfriend's attention again.

I THINK HE KNOWS ♥︎ - Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk.

BEGIN AGAIN ✿ - James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

END GAME ✿✷ - Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

GOLD RUSH ✿✷✮ - You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

DAYLIGHT ♥︎ - When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

THE ALCOTT ✮ - You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple until it isn't so simple anymore.

SUBURBAN LEGENDS ✿✷ - James tries to teach you how to ice skate — in the same universe as Dear Reader

SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

SO HIGH SCHOOL ✿ - You have a massive crush on James. One you didn't think would ever lead anywhere until a drunken party in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"SLUT!" ♥︎ - Your brother's best friend teaches you pleasures you've never experienced before.

I CAN SEE YOU ✷✿ - James panics when he sees what his boggart is.

COME IN WITH THE RAIN ✷ - You comfort your darling boyfriend after an overwhelming sight at your muggle grandparents' house.

HIGH INFIDELITY ✷ - You'd kept your relationship with James a secret up until you couldn't anymore. Pt. 2 of Lavender Haze

GORGEOUS ♥︎ - You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

DEAR READER ✿ - You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

PAPER RINGS ✿ - James is the best boyfriend while you're sick

[birchleavesdawn]

Bitter Taste

Fromis_9 Saerom x Jo Yuri x m!Reader 4.2k words Warning: Watersports, Food play Authors notes: Fulfilling a couple of pretty old requests. The first one is a bit of a vague request and I don't really know what someone would be looking for for that so I hope this story is different enough. This will have at least a part 2 as I like the characters and already have the next part completely mapped out. Will see about anything beyond that. There is also a few easter eggs related to the title of the fic (song) in there, if you know the song maybe you'll catch them.

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

Another night on your phone. Eyes exhausted from having the same empty conversations over and over, just for the tiny chance of spending a boring night with someone you'd never see again. Your finger tapped on the same apps you did every time, hoping it would be different, but knowing it would be the same.

Enough of this.

*Ring*... *Ring*...

"Hello?"

"Hey Captain. You busy tonight?"

"Why? Did daddy's luck run out on his dating apps? I knew it wouldn't be long before I was hearing from you again." You could hear her grin through the phone.

"I'm tired of those girls. I just keep swiping, I need something new."

"Well, I'm working right now but I get off in an hour. Why don't you pretty yourself up and come meet me here. I know how we can have a little fun."

*Click*

Saerom was a bit of a wild card. She had gotten you to try many things you would never have even thought possible on your nights together. You couldn't begin to guess what she had in mind, but you were looking forward to something, anything different.

She texted you the address, it was one you recognized and It wasn't very far. After a quick shower, you put on something nice and headed down. A short walk and a couple minutes on the subway and you were there.

Sweet Indulgence Adult Ice Cream 19+

So she was working at an ice cream place now? You wondered what the 19+ meant. Maybe they sold alcohol? The bell chimed as you entered the shop. Saerom was leaning behind the counter on her phone.

"Oh! Hey there handsome. I'll be with you in a minute." She smiled and walked into the back room.

You took a seat near the front, deciding to wait there for her return, taking a chance to size the place up. It was small but not too small. There were three tables in the middle of the floor and two booths on the left wall. A glass counter ran through the middle of the room, filled with various flavors of ice cream. Basically it looked like any standard ice cream shop, with the only difference being the big "19+" written next to the milkshakes on the menu.

Yea must be alcohol. You thought.

That's when you noticed Saerom's coworker pop up from below the cash register. A short girl with shimmering blonde hair tucked neatly into her hairnet. Large, expressive eyes and a smile that was warm and inviting. She looked cute. Like a puppy. "Yuri" was written on her name tag. You watched her, hard at work, unsure if she was even aware of your presence.

Saerom reemerged a few moments later, walking to the door, pulling the blinds shut and flipping the open sign to closed. She whispered something to the other girl who then promptly disappeared into the back where Saerom had just come from. Saerom then made her way over to you. You stood up from your chair to meet her. Without saying a word she grabbed your face and licked firmly up the side of your cheek before growling quietly in your ear. She lifted up her white tank top and flashed you her breasts, before pushing them into your chest. You could feel her erect nipples poking you through your shirt. They probably spent a lot of time like that in such a cold place like this.

"Wow I guess we're getting right into it?"

"You have no idea how badly I want you right now." She grabbed your crotch and gave it a firm squeeze.

"But..."

She let go of your crotch and pulled her shirt back down. Leaving you confused.

"I thought we could play with Yuri tonight. She's pretty cute right?" Saerom said

You turned to look towards the back, the young blonde girl was now standing there, a bright smile on her face, wearing a frilly white apron with nothing on underneath. Her perky breasts were on display, along with a clean shaven slit that peeked out from below the bottom. Her legs were slender and shapely. You turned back to Saerom, who had a big grin on her face.

"So, what do you say?"

"Well she seems pretty excited and you know I'm not one to disappoint a lady. Especially one that looks like that."

"Great, then pick a flavor and Yuri is going to begin preparing our milkshakes."

"Chocolate cookies looks good."

Saerom nodded to Yuri.

Yuri spun around, revealing her perfectly plump backside. You caught Saerom staring out the corner of your eye, her mouth open, a lustful gaze. You really couldn't blame her, Yuri's body was incredible.

Yuri bent over the freezer, sticking her ass out as far as she could, and pulled out the tub of chocolate cookies ice cream, before carrying it into the back.

Saerom approached you once again, now fixated on the tightness on display in the front of your trousers. She breathed hot air into your ear while playfully biting your lobe. Her hands going for your belt.

"I'll make this quick. But don't worry, this is just a taste of what's to come." She winked.

Saerom wasted no time. She dropped to her knees, pulling down your pants and underwear, exposing your stiff and twitching member to the cool air. She took your head between her lips. She bobbed her head, quickly and forcefully, sucking hard while swirling her tongue. Your hands reached down to hold her, feeling her silky black hair slide through your fingers. You moaned softly, watching her move her head, sliding her glistening lips up and down your cock. The sloppy sounds of her movements were only outdone by the soft moans she was making as she worked. She knew exactly what you liked.

"READY!"

You heard Yuri shouting from the back. And once again Saerom let go of you, your shaft slick with her saliva, now feeling exceptionally exposed to the frigid air. She rose and straightened herself out.

"We'll finish later. For now let's enjoy our shakes."

"You're really just going to leave me like this?"

"Of course!"

Saerom motioned to the back.

You walked in after her, following her lead. The back of the store also looked like any ordinary ice cream parlor. Stacks of boxes labeled cups, spoons, bowls. The freezers and mixers sat along the far wall, a large refrigerator filled with various types of milk on your right, and a large steel door that clearly led to the walk-in freezer beside it. What caught your attention though was the floor to ceiling curtain that was hiding another part of the room. On one side of it, there was a steel chute that came from behind it and then led to the countertop where several milkshake glasses stood. Each one was filled to the brim with a thick, creamy shake.

"Grab your shake and give it a taste!" Saerom said excitedly.

"It should be that darker one there at the end."

You grabbed the shake she pointed to, and gave it a taste. The rich chocolate flavor was sweet and delicious. You hadn't expected ice cream to taste this good.

"Mmmm." You hummed, taking another sip.

"I like it."

"Like it?"

"Love it!"

Saerom laughed, pleased by your reaction.

"That's so good." You said, wiping a bit of it from your lip.

"I've never tasted anything quite like it. That bitter taste. Is that the alcohol?"

She looked confused. "What do you mean? There's no alcohol in this."

"Wait, really?"

"Of course not, silly. I wouldn't do that to you." She was now grinning ear to ear.

"So then, why did she call this the '19+' menu?"

"That's because of our secret ingredient."

Saerom motioned to the curtain.

"Would you like to see?"

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded.

She took hold of the curtain and drew it back, revealing the real reason for the 19+ on the menu. Yuri was knelt down on top of a small wooden platform with a thin mattress atop, her legs spread wide, her hands resting on her thighs. The steel chute that you had seen from the other side of the curtain, now entirely visible, was attached to the platform between Yuri's legs.

"I think you've figured out what's going on here, but why don't you let me show you anyway. Yuri, are you ready?"

"YES MISS SAEROM" Yuri shouted, her voice dripping with excitement.

"Now the girls who work here will often do this part on their own, but for the sake of the demonstration, I'm going to help her."

You watched as Saerom stepped forward and took Yuri's chin in her hand, leaning in and planting a passionate kiss on her soft lips.

"I'm going to make you feel really good." She whispered in her ear, before taking a step back and slapping her ass.

Yuri yelped. "Thank you Miss Saerom."

Saerom then climbed up onto the platform and moved behind Yuri, squatting down. She pulled Yuri's ass up to meet her face, spreading her cheeks and sticking her tongue inside.

"Mmmmm." Yuri moaned, closing her eyes.

Saerom's tongue danced around inside Yuri's asshole. Spreading her spit and getting her ready. After a few moments, she stopped and stood up.

"I can still taste the chocolate cookies ice cream you asked for. Good choice!"

Saerom reached forward and grabbed a spoon and a small white tub off the shelf in front of her, opening it and placing it on the platform next to Yuri's leg.

"We're going with classic vanilla for this one."

She then scooped out a spoonful of the ice cream and smeared it on her finger, pressing it against Yuri's rear, and then pushing her finger inside with the ice cream.

"Hnnng" Yuri groaned.

Saerom continued, working her finger deeper and deeper inside Yuri's asshole until she had the whole thing buried. She then slid it out slowly, letting her anus tighten around it.

"How does that feel?" She asked.

"Mmmmmm" Yuri responded, unable to manufacture any words.

"Yuri is really sensitive. It's how she's able to produce so many drinks over the course of a day."

Saerom scooped another glob of ice cream, pressing it into Yuri's asshole. Once again pushing her finger inside.

She repeated the process a couple more times before deciding that that would be enough. Yuri was starting to tremble now, her body beginning to shake as the effects of the ice cream began to take hold.

"How are you doing, baby girl?"

"I'm doing good, Miss Saerom." Yuri whimpered.

The ice cream had already begun to melt from Yuri's asshole, coating her pussy and running down the back of her thighs before being collected by the chute below her. Saerom dipped her finger in the melted liquid, bringing it to her mouth and giving it a taste.

"Mmm. Just right." She said.

She then turned her attention to Yuri's cunt, rubbing her fingers over her folds.

"And what's going on down here. Is it time yet?"

"Yes... Miss Saerom, I think so."

She gave her lips another pass over before sliding her fingers inside, eliciting a low moan from Yuri. She then removed her fingers and brought them up to her own mouth, savoring another taste of her favorite girl.

"You taste delicious, Yuri. Like a little angel. So sweet and pure."

"Thank you Miss Saerom."

Saerom then turned her attention to you.

"Why don't you come up and get yourself a taste straight from the source?"

She motioned for you to approach. You eagerly climbed up onto the platform and crawled behind Yuri, her beautiful ass and pussy now just inches from your face. Her sweet smell was intoxicating.

"Come on, take a bite." Saerom encouraged.

You reached out, taking hold of Yuri's ass cheeks, squeezing them together and spreading them apart, the melted ice cream having left them looking glossy and inviting. You stuck out your tongue and licked along her crack. You could feel her body twitch slightly at your touch. You followed the trail of vanilla down the curve of her ass, the smooth skin sliding under your tongue. She tasted amazing. You pressed your tongue to her cunt, licking the melted ice cream from her lips before finally sliding your tongue inside. Her pussy was warm and offset the cold of the ice cream. The taste was even better than her asshole.

"That's it. Get nice and deep." Saerom cooed. One of her hands had found its way into the front of her pants, she was visibly getting off to the sight of you tongue fucking her baby girl.

You pushed your tongue deeper into Yuri's pussy, feeling her clench and squirm. You danced your tongue around inside her, her moans growing louder.

"Ahhh. Ahhhh. Ahhhhhhh." Yuri had become a whimpering mess.

Saerom reached her free hand down and rubbed Yuri’s clit. Yuri's hips began to rock and sway as she fucked your face.

"I'm gonna cum, Miss Saerom."

Yuri's breathing was labored, her moans desperate. You felt her pussy clamp down on your tongue. Her legs were shaking, losing their ability to hold her weight. Before you knew it a stream of her nectar was pouring out of her, filling your mouth, splashing all over your cheeks and running down your chin then collecting in the chute between her legs.

"Good job, baby girl. That was wonderful." Saerom praised her. "Look how much we got!"

She ran her hand through Yuri's hair and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"You were a perfect little angel for our guest."

"Thank you Miss Saerom."

Saerom turned to you, seeing the mess Yuri had made on your face, a look of pride washing over her.

"Here, let me help you clean that up."

Saerom pulled you close and licked your face clean. Taking her time to lap up every last drop.

"Mmmm." She moaned. "God it tastes so good."

You could feel her hot breath on your face. She kissed your cheek, while her hand returned to your crotch, massaging your cock through the fabric.

"Alright I've waited long enough. It's my turn now."

She didn't wait for a response, instead she threw you down onto the mattress next to Yuri, who was still recovering from her orgasm.

"Clothes off. Now." She commanded.

You hastily pulled off your shirt, throwing it to the floor. Your pants and underwear following.

"That's it. You're always so good."

"Now get over here on your knees. I want you to look into my eyes the whole time... or so help me..."

She pulled down her skirt and kicked off her panties. Her pussy looked so inviting, juices had already begun leaking down her thighs. You wasted no time, crawling over and stopping before her feet.

"Wait. No touching yet. I've been holding this in all night."

You sat there obediently, your cock painfully hard. Saerom took a step towards you and lowered her folds to your face, an intoxicating scent of lilac and yearning emanating. Grabbing your hair with both hands, she tilted your head back, forcing your mouth open and giving herself full access.

Suddenly a warm stream hit your tongue, catching you by surprise. You made sure to keep your gaze locked with hers just as she directed, disobeying her when she was like this would only spell bad news for you.

Her golden liquid flooded your mouth. You swallowed as fast as you could but the stream was relentless. The pressure causing it to spill out over your chin, down your chest and falling onto your twitching member. You could feel her fluids warming you on the inside and out.

It tasted like heaven, sweet and bitter and everything in between. She looked down at you, satisfied. 

"Drink up, baby." She said between hitched breaths, her grip on your hair tightening.

She finally ran out and lifted herself from your face, leaving your mouth and nose drenched. She licked the sweat from her lips, taking a moment to admire her work.

"Fuck!" She exhaled.

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back out of her face.

"Look at the mess we've made. Tsk Tsk. You know I can't have you inside me all filthy like that."

Saerom stepped over and sat next to Yuri, who had managed to sit herself up and had been enjoying the show.

"Yuri, darling, could you do me a favor and clean our friend's cock for me? But do not let him cum."

"Of course Miss Saerom."

She got to work immediately. Her eyes grew wide at the thought of tasting Saerom's juices on you. She wrapped her small, soft hand around the base of your cock and gave it a firm squeeze.

"It's so big! And the smell..." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "It's so good!"

She licked her lips, before leaning in and taking the tip of your shaft into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around, coating your head with her saliva. You let out a quiet groan. After the blue balls you'd been getting all night, the mere contact from her mouth was almost enough to push you over the edge already.

Saerom was clearly enjoying the show, a satisfied smile on her face. She leaned in and whispered something in Yuri's ear. Yuri's eyes lit up again. She nodded and went back to her task, wrapping her lips tightly around your shaft.

"Now that's a good girl."

The way she looked down at Yuri with such adoration, such pride, it was enough to make your heart melt. You could tell she cared for her deeply.

Yuri continued, bobbing her head up and down your shaft, her tongue working furiously to clean you. She was making quite a mess with her spit leaking down her chin. She didn't seem to care one bit.

Saerom leaned in and kissed Yuri on the forehead.

"That's enough, my sweet."

Yuri released your cock with a wet pop. Your shaft now absolutely coated in her drool.

Saerom turned her attention to you. "I think you've earned a reward, don't you?"

You nodded, the ache in your loins was getting completely unbearable.

"Go on then. Come and take it."

Saerom lay back and spread her legs, showing off her glistening pink slit. You crawled between her legs, and pressed your tip against her opening.

"That's it. Don't hold back."

That was all you needed to hear. Those words producing a feral response deep inside you. You thrust your hips forward, burying your cock inside her, causing a gasp to escape her lips. You were on top of her, your body moving entirely on instinct. Hands grabbing at her thighs, pulling her close, trying to get deeper. You could feel her nails digging into your back, her teeth on your neck. The sounds of her moans were enough to drive you crazy.

"Ah.. f.." She bit down on your shoulder, her moans muffled, unable to get any words out.

Your thrusts were growing more erratic and less controlled. You were both losing yourselves. The tension inside her was building. She clung to you, her arms wrapped around you tightly and her breath hot on your neck. Her walls were pulsating, clenching around your shaft . You could feel her orgasm approaching.

"Aaaah." She cried out, her eyes rolling back. "I'm going to ..."

"Fucking do it then." You growled. The feeling of her pussy spasming around you. You kept the pace steady and guided Saerom through her orgasm. Her body shaking and trembling beneath you.

"God damn you're beautiful." You whispered. "But I’m not done. Ready to go again?"

She summoned the last remnants of her strength to offer you a delicate nod.

You rolled her over flat on her stomach and pulled her thighs together, placing your knees on either side. You admired the sight of her glistening backside for a moment, the sweat beading down from her ass and her shoulders before coming to a rest in the small of her back. You took a fistful of each of her cheeks to support yourself, before slowly tracing one long line up the length of her back with your tongue. The saltiness of her sweat paired well with the bitterness of her piss that still lingered in your mouth.

"Ah..." She gasped, shivering as a reaction to the surprise sensation.

You pressed the tip of your cock against her asshole, feeling her muscles clench. You plunged forward, the pressure giving way and the head of your shaft slipping inside. She let out a loud gasp as you slid deeper, continuing until your hips met hers.

You began to thrust, her ass was clenching around you. The wet slap of your skin on hers filling the air. She was gripping the mattress with everything she had left, causing her knuckles to turn white. You picked up the pace, feeling her insides stretch around you. You reached under and took hold of her breast, squeezing and pulling at her nipple. She let out a low moan as you continued to pound her.

"Fuck me harder." She panted, her voice strained.

You did as you were told. Thrusting faster and harder, slamming her into the mattress. She was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath you. Her voice growing louder, the sounds escaping her becoming increasingly animalistic. She was reaching her limits.

"Fuck. That's it. Make sure you cum inside me."

Her body was tensing up, the pressure inside her growing. You could feel her muscles contracting around your shaft, gripping you like a vice. You could tell she was going to burst at any second. You picked up the pace. Thrusting even harder. You wanted her to explode.

Saerom's whole body began to shake. You could see the strain on her face. You continued to fuck her. You couldn't stop. She was cumming. Her whole body convulsed, her screams echoing off the walls. You continued to pound her, driving her body into the mattress, not letting up. She was lost in the throes of pleasure. The orgasm had completely consumed her.

Her voice was hoarse. You couldn't tell if she was even making any sounds anymore. She had stopped moving, her eyes rolled back and her body limp. You continued to pound her ass, until your own release finally came. You let out a loud growl and thrust forward one final time, burying yourself as deep inside her as you possibly could. You could feel the warmth of your seed flooding her insides, the excess spilling out onto her aching pussy.

Saerom lay there motionless, but breathing heavily. You could feel the aftershocks of her orgasm still rippling through her body. You gently pulled out, releasing your hold on her and letting her fall back down flat on her stomach.

You collapsed beside her, panting, both of you completely spent. The next thing you knew, Yuri was standing above you, smiling. She handed you each a glass of water, which you happily accepted and chugged it down.

"Thank you Yuri. You've been wonderful."

She simply smiled and bowed.

"Well, I suppose we should clean up and be on our way." Saerom said, having partially come back to her senses. “As much as we’d all like to sit here for a while, it’s getting late.”

"Yes. It's quite late and we have a busy day tomorrow." Yuri chimed in.

"By the way, I promised Yuri that you would take her home tonight. I'll tidy up here, why don't you two get going. I don't want to keep Yuri up any longer than necessary."

"Ahh.. what?"

"Don't worry, you've already made her cum so she shouldn't be any trouble. Plus she can make herself useful. Now shoo. Get dressed and get out of here."

Saerom and Yuri dressed while you did the same. Once everyone was presentable, you took Yuri and headed for the door. As you walked out, Yuri handed you a new shake in a to-go cup.

"This is the one we just made together!"

"I can't wait to taste it." You replied, smiling.

You held her hand and walked her home. You enjoyed the silence, not saying much on the way, but enjoying each other's company.

When you finally arrived back at your place, you unlocked the door and motioned Yuri in, following close behind. You both kicked off your shoes and made your way into the kitchen, where you put the milkshake down on the counter.

"I only have one bed, but it's pretty big. I'm assuming that after tonight you won't mind sharing one anyway. You go on in, 2nd door on the right, I need to find a spot in the freezer for this milkshake."

You watched Yuri walk away, admiring the way her hips swayed, before heading over to the freezer. You placed the shake in empty corner and shut the door. You then made your way to the bedroom. Despite only being about 30 seconds behind her, she was already fast asleep on your bed. You made sure she had enough blankets before crawling into bed next to her. A moment later, you were also fast asleep.

[imaginesmai]

Breeding tonic gone wrong - Azriel

This got out of hand, don't want to label it as Dark!Azriel since it's a breeding drug but it's darkish. Wonderful @daycourtofficial wrote this fic and I thought I could try the breeding potion since I've read fics about it before. But I wanted it to be a little dark, not just smut. Here is the result!

Plot: during a trip to the Illyrian mountains, Azriel and you discover a cabin with all types of monstrosities. One of them ends up in Azriel's blood system, a breeding tonic, which no male nor female has survived before.

Warnings: it is consensual but the consent is given in a life-death situation for both characters. Rough, unhinged Azriel smut. Sex pollen fic.

Illyrians were the worst males alive, and if it was up to you, you would blow those mountains down until none of them breathed. Proof of their cruelty was the lab you were investigating right then, that had installed a permanent frown on your face.

The silence of the room was only broken by the occasional scoffs from your partner, who seemed to have the same feelings about the work done in there. With a half-limp from the previous fight against the guards, you let your eyes travel between the different labeled bottles and horror at their uses.

Pain extension for wing clipping – prevents the muscles from reattaching

Numbing lotion – apply in small quantities before perpetration, makes the female stop squirming

Pleasure beverages – draws the pleasure out of fae 1 and inducts it into fae 2. Still testing

All of them were horrific and terrible, and all of them had been tested. You had heard rumors about hat place before, but Azriel and you didn’t have a real location until now. The twenty males that had died protecting that secret were proof of how sicked that twisted that place was.

“It feels wrong to be here” Azriel muttered from the other side of the room, holding up a bunch of vials in his scarred hands. “How long have it taken them to fill all this up?”

“They are all against… females. Years of researching into their pain, uses and worth” you commented too, your voice only a whisper. “And they have been tested. Approved”

“Let’s finish this and get out of here”

You could feel Azriel’s shadows too exploring the room, and for a moment, you gave yourself a minute to think about possibilities. You had also been raised by Illyrians, in the mountains, yet had been lucky enough to be born in Windhaven. To live next to Rhys’ mother’s cabin and become friends with Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand.

To have one of them as your kind-of-lover, at least more than friends. Everyone knew that you and the shadowsinger were something, and few males approached you when you visited the camps.

You had been lucky, because you could have ended just like those girls that had been used like guinea pigs. The hairs on your arms rose up just at the idea, and you promised yourself you would find each and every participant and tear them into pieces.

“Y/N” Azriel called out of you, and you turned around. “Watch this”

The tremble in his voice, the break from his usual stoic voice, was enough to tear you away from your own worries and thoughts. You replaced his place in front of a worn-down table, full to the brim. Azriel stepped back until he was behind you, until he was between you and the open space.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

You looked over to the notebook he was holding open, old and used. There were different handwritings, names of women crossed out and names of males half-erased. On top, a blank space for the name they would come up with.

In the desk, you spotted several vials with a blueish, bright liquid, some of them empty. The handwritten was tough to read, but before you could squint your eyes, Azriel summed it up for you.

“They were testing breeding accelerations” he explained, the edge of his wing curling around your smaller form. “So far, they hadn’t had results. All the participants died, both males and females”

You held your breath as you read some of the details. Fucked to death seemed to be repeated a lot. Was it a game, to them, the lives of so many women that were dragged into their sick experiments? The miracle of life that they perverted so often?

Azriel shifted closer to you on instinct, probably thinking about the same options you were pondering about. His warm chest against your back made you close the notebook with little care. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, feel pity for those males who had died raping innocent females, probably sold by their own father.

The best thing you could do now was try and find their corpses, give them a proper burial and incinerate the whole place down.

Scarred fingers brushed yours softly, like a gosht touch. Azriel wasn’t a verbal lover, not a public one. He preferred to stay quiet and hidden, and you liked him just like that. Only with your fingers tangling, you expressed the horrors in that poisoned cabin.

You turned around, intending to give him a small smile and maybe make it seem real, but you caught movement from the corner of your eyes. The troubled look on Azriel eyes had him too far away to notice the threat, and you only had time to squeeze your joined hands before he was pushed into you.

With a considerate force, you both collided against the work desk and tumbled into the ground with its content.

“Bitches” the incomer groaned, the edge of his knife breaking the skin of Azriel’s forearm. “You’re all bitches, bastards”

“Motherfucker”

You cursed when your hands touched something sticky. The attacker’s knife scurried down Azriel’s arm when your knife drove through his head. A sickening crunch of blood, bone and brain echoed through the cabin. Azriel had kept his body as an iron shield around you, but you had managed to drag one of your curved weapons and kill the male.

He hissed when the body fell against his back, elbows crumbling under the unexpected weight. You fell back against the sticky substance with a grimace, and helped Azriel push the dead body off.

“That was unfortunate” he complained, rolling off you. “I liked my new jacket”

“And I liked my knife clean, I had just wiped off the blood” you rolled your eyes, getting up and offering him a hand. “Even in death, they cause problems”

Azriel smiled at you when you helped him up, and while he readjusted his weapons, you looked down to the ground.

Papers and empty vials were scattered around. Most of the blood was from the corpse of the ground, which you realized, was one of the males you had thought you killed. One of his wings was missing, courtesy of Azriel, and he was covered in wounds. The biggest of them, the missing part of his head thanks to your knife.

You were about to comment about Azriel getting sloppy when you heard him suck a breath. His body tensed like an arch bow, one of his hands quickly peeling the leather off his arm.

“What?” you were instantly on him, helping him get a better look at the bleeding cut.

“There’s something here” he answered, and you didn’t miss the edge of panic in his usual calm voice. “Something is stuck. In the back”

“Must be a splinter” you walked to his side and peeled the rest of the hard training leathers. “Overgrown baby bat”

He didn’t laugh with you, and your smile died down when you saw the empty vial sticking out of his muscled biceps. It still held the remains of the blue liquid, mixing with his own blood. Azriel couldn’t see it, since it was small enough to hide from his sight. Objectively, it had broken from the fall and emptied on the ground. Objectively, it could be any vial and Azriel would be just fine and perfect.

You felt as if someone had submerged your head underwater as he asked you what was it. As you watched yet another drop run down from the bottom of the vial into his body. No matter how quickly you pulled it off, the harm was done.

For good measure, you took a step back and stared all your intrusive thoughts into the palm of your hand, where the remains of the vial stood. It was covered in his blood, your Azriel’s blood. Your friend, your lover, your Azriel. Your mouth went dry when you looked up and watched his eyes widen in panic.

“Is that…” he didn’t finish the question, nor he needed to.

“Think so. It’s small”

“Was it in? Has it touched my body?” Azriel reached a hand behind his back, searching for a non-existing reassurance in your eyes. “Y/N”

“Maybe it doesn’t work like this. It – it broke, the contents spilled before. We have no way of – “

“Was it in?”

You nodded softly, watching him find the exact point of puncture. You could try and fool yourself, fool him, but you noticed the change in his scent in just a few seconds. Under his spiced, fresh smell, there was something else. His throat bobbed down and his eyes darked, just an inch.

Both of you kept quiet for a second. It had never gone so wrong, so fast, in your missions together. You worked well, you were efficient. At worst cases, any of you got injured and the other would cause a carnage well deserved. At better, you spent time with the person you loved the most but didn’t dare to confess to.

Your ears picked up the increase of his heartrate, and your mind replayed the words in the notebook. The effects of the drug were clear – and the consequences too. That sprung you into action, rounding his rigid body and picking up the fallen notebook.

You flipped through the pages, trying to come up with something else. Something that wasn’t death and a breeding tonic that was just flooding through Azriel’s veins.

“I can’t winnow. I can’t… my shadows. They’re gone” you heard Azriel from behind you, but all you could see were words and crossed out names blurring together.

1st trial: Jolene and Atrox. Healthy subjects. No previous incidents to report.

The male ingested the vial. The effect was instant. Killed the female before undressing her, in his haste of getting closer. Snapped her neck. Died after two minutes, heart gave out.

“Rhysand doesn’t expect us until tomorrow. They won’t be coming. Damn it. Damn it!”

9nd trial: Marvel and Broncor. Stronger, healthier. She has already given birth. Fertile and flexible.

The male ingested the vial. The effect was instant. They copulated for five hours. Female died upon multiple traumas taken to the head. Male kept going for two more hours. Heart gave out.

“Isn’t it too hot? Y/N, listen – what are you doing? Y/N?”

20th trial: Evene and Cyrian. Mated couple. Together for fifteen years. Unconsented teaser.

It was injected into the male arm. The effect was instant. Lasted almost a day. Destroyed previous test cabin, in need for a new one. Female died from multiple lacerations. Male died. Heart gave out.

Weirdly, it wasn’t Azriel’s voice trying to call for you what broke you free from the notebook, but the faint sound of his heart. As you had read through the pages, it had increased dangerously. You had never heard it so loud and fast. The spymaster always controlled his heartrate – through exercises, through missions, through sex.

But you could hear it over your own, loud and demanding. You turned around and found Azriel covered in sweat. His pupils were expanded until you couldn’t see the sweet hazel behind them. And his hand, the one that wasn’t tugging at the edge of his shirt, was holding his crotch with a trembling grip.

The jacket was already on the ground, and above all of that, you vision became blurry at the notice of his arousal. The evident, primal arousal that filled the cabin, that was radiating off him in steady waves.

His eyes bored into yours with an intensity you had never seen, but he didn’t move. It must have taken you a while to read all those tests. Failed test where they all died, the males’ heart giving out in each one. And the heart you greeded the most was threatening to give out in front of you.

“You need to leave” Azriel managed to say, his hand squeezing his cock painfully.

“Az”

Part of you seemed to be horrified at the situation. It was aware of the danger Azriel had just turned into, the order to your legs to run fast and steady ready. It was the part of you Azriel had liked, that had made him train you to be a spy.

The other part, he had created. Between soft touches and kisses. You didn’t need a name to know that you loved him, that he had given you everything when he had nothing. That part was terrified, too, yet seemed to scream in the opposite direction.

Neither of those parts seemed to come up with a solution.

“Don’t say my name. Leave” he couldn’t help the moan at your voice, his fingers quickly getting rid of the confines of his trousers. “Y/N, leave”

His cock spang free with little effort, and he jacked off with an impressive speed. Yet you had read also test 14th, where the male had tried to masturbate and hadn’t even lasted five minutes. Any other day, you would have melted at the sight of Azriel’s cock tall and proud in front of you. There was a steady drip of precum that seemed too eager, too early.

He had an impressive resistance, as you well knew. But his balls were almost purple, the veins along his shaft pulsing.

“If you don’t give in, you will die” you announced him, trying to keep your eyes on his. Your own core was starting to pulse with unwanted need. “None of them could do it on their own. And you’re not different”

“And none of the females live either, Y/N. Please, please” his voice broke at the end. His nostrils flared at your own smell, and his thighs tightened in an effort to keep still. “Run as far as you can, and take Truthteller with you. I can’t – with you, I… leave, please”

“There is one who made it”

The lie rolled off your tongue easily, and you knew Azriel was in too much pain and desperation to notice. Only a male had survived, after killing three women in a row. Your heart seemed to work on its own as you noticed the opportunity. Staying wasn’t the reasonable option, yet leaving him was no option at all.

“It might take a while, but we can make it. You need to fuck it out, and we have done it before”

“With consent!” he almost screamed, ending up in a frustrated moan. “I won’t touch you while this is in me. Either you leave or I – I’m gonna – Y/N”

His heart speeded even more if that was possible, and his hand flattered. How long had it been? You didn’t want to think about how long he could make it, how long he could resist it. But you were certain that he would die before touching you in that cabin.

Azriel had been denied of many choices and options in his life, and you knew how much he hated to have decisions taken from him. You watched the anger in his eyes as you stepped closer, unbuttoning your jeans.

With muscle memory, you stepped out of your confines and stepped up to him. Every part of Azriel was on edge, every nerve on his body screamed. And still, he didn’t touch you. Azriel stared with a silent plea in his eyes, a last warning.

“I can’t do this” Azriel begged. “Not to you, Y/N. Don’t make me do this”

“I won’t lose you”

Those were your last words before you snuck up your arms around his shoulders, forcibly lowering his head so you could lock your lips with him. One last act of normality before the drug took control over him. At that point, there was only one real objective in your mind, one coherent thought – don’t let the only light in your life die. Don’t let Azriel die because a stupid mistake.

You brushed your lips against his and didn’t show the surprise at his body temperature. He was burning, not only hot against the cold wind, but sickly hot. His skin was sweaty against your palms, his lips cracked already.

“It’s fine, Az” you whispered against his mouth. “I trust you”

Before you could blink or fully register the implications of your consent, you were turned around and pushed to the closest wall. Only Azriel hand on your forehead avoided the blow to your head.

His other hand wasted no time to roam through your body, already with enough pressure to leave bruises. It wasn’t the kindness you were used to, the love Azriel professed for you in every touch and caress. His touch was rough and brutal, and you didn’t know what to do with the pooling wetness at the thought.

It could have been tears of frustration or drops of sweat falling onto your shoulder, but Azriel didn’t let you turn around to check. As if looking into your eyes made it worse.

“Az” you moaned loudly when he found your center, trembling with the restrain. “The door, close the door”

He obeyed when his index finger pressed in you with enough pression to make your knees tremble. You only heard the sound of the door closing, maybe his shadows doing the work, as your eyes rolled back when he started fingering you as if it was your own pleasure who was making him mad.

Azriel rutted into your body from behind, growling like a feral animal. His hips pushed into you again and again, the hand holding your face into place lowering to your neck. He kept pushing his finger in and out of you, in a rush to make you wet enough to take him. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for his size, that you were feeling in your lower back.

When you heard Azriel’s breath hitch, when you were sure he wouldn’t last another second with the drug speeding his heart, you urged him to continue.

“If it gets too much, kill me” Azriel whispered with the last remains of his self-control. “Promise me if it’s between me and you, you’ll kill me”

“We’re gonna be fine”

“Promise me”

You only nodded, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the second lie thrown his way.

His fingers left your entrance with a wet sound, and his cock replaced them. You were lifted a few inches with just one of his hands, your feet leaving the ground. Along the smell of both arousals and the sickening scent of the drug, you noticed the blood that peaked through the scratch on your naked chest.

The brief pain of the rough wood against them died down when Azriel finally pushed into you.

Azriel’s cock stretched you so much that, for a moment, you lost your breath. His body moved on its own accord, driven by the drug, and didn’t let you time to adjust. No matter how wet he had gotten you, it hurt. It hurt as he pistoled himself in and out, fast and hard. As he moaned and whined and screamed your name.

He fucked you so hard, yet you could see from the corner of your eye his fingers creating dents on the well. His sheer will was the only thing keeping him from killing you, according to the reports you had read previously.

You didn’t know for how long it went on, only that you came around his cock and he didn’t stop. He came minutes later, sputtering like a teenager with trembling knees, only to keep fucking you with the same strength.

It could have been minutes, or hours, yet the only thought you could focus on was that his heart was still beating, strong and steady. That you were alive and he was with you.

“I’m going to wreck you” Azriel panted, and his voice was only a distant sound in your haze of pain and pleasure. “Please kill me. Kill me before I do, Y/N”

It wasn’t a playful promise of two lovers, but a terrified pled from a drugged male. Azriel’s body was the only thing keeping you straight, his cock keeping his restless movement inside you. There were cuts all over your breast from how hard he was pushing you against the wall, yet he couldn’t stop.

The drug was so powerful, so primal, that he could only keep fucking you on and on.

Even if you wanted, you couldn’t have answered him. If felt like your throat had closed up long ago, only opening for moans or whines. The line between pain and pleasure was blurry all the time, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it.

“Y/N. Y/N” he called your name as he emptied himself inside you once more – only to keep going a second after.

Your thighs were sticky with his cum and yours, cascading down your legs like a torrent. But the drug kept affecting his body, and he continued even when your body was too sore to handle it. You knew your tears would hurt him and break him into two, but you couldn’t control the overstimulation as you let them free fall your cheeks.

Azriel must have smelt them, the saltiness in the air, because for a moment the male was strong enough to slower his movements. You almost fell to the ground when he took a step back, his heart speeding all over again.

As if the last hours hadn’t meant nothing.

“Run” he whispered desperately, one of his hands furiously stroking his cock.

“I’m not leaving you here to die, Azriel” you managed to say. “Don’t make this harder”

You used the advantage of his self-control before it consumed, and turned around. You didn’t need to follow his gaze to the wounds on your chest, to the bruises with the form on his fingertips, to know they were there. The pain of Azriel’s action was making your mind dizzy.

Yet it was fuck or die. It was for him, whose eyes were still pitch black, his whole body covered in sweat. That you had managed to survive so long broke the records on that old notebook, and that alone would have been enough to make you consider how strong Azriel was.

But you couldn’t think about the pain he must have been in, only dried your tears on your forearm. More threatened to fall because you were tired. You wanted to stop and go back a few hours ago, burn that place down before it was too late. Still, you knew you couldn’t do that.

“I trust you, okay?” you reminded him as Azriel’s own eyes became glossy. “We can make it out. You just need to endure through and try not to kill me in the meantime. We can do it”

You weren’t as confident as before, but you didn’t have time to consider it. With your enhanced hearing, you could hear his heart. It had slowed down from that frenetic, dangerous point at the beginning, but it wasn’t safe still. At any moment, it would give up and you couldn’t phantom that thought.

So, with a trembling hand, you replaced his hand on his cock with yours. He had finished three times already, a fourth time when you used your other hand to squeezed his balls. They emptied on your stomach, precum flowing as soon as he finished.

“I’m so sorry” Azriel admitted, and your breath hitched as you kept stroking him.

It wasn’t enough, the drug made him need to be inside a woman. But it was giving you time to regain your breath, hug his shoulders once more and let him lower you to the ground.

-

Gaining back consciousness was a long process, that took you a few minutes. First it was the notice of the snow beneath your body, and on you. Flakes fell from the sky and covered your hair and nose, your naked feet. It should have made you cold, but you were warm.

Then it was the soreness that hug every inch of you, from your legs to your shoulders, even your neck. Your throat felt dry and it took you a few tries to open your eyes. When you did, you were met with white.

White ground, white sky, white trees. You frowned at your surroundings before the last events caught up with you, and your body perked up with panic.

Finally, you noticed Azriel’s body draped over yours. He was still inside you, one of his hands cupping your cheek. As you turned to look at him, you saw frozen tears on his cheeks, a sight so rare yet beautiful that broke the last of your stupor away.

“Az” you croaked out, more of a groan than a word.

You weren’t cold because his body and wings were a blanket against the weather. He too was unconscious, covered in snow. The last hours were blurry, only him and his body and the persistent need to hold on. You remembered his body heat, you suggesting the snow to lower it – and the cabin crumbling under his power as he came inside you once more.

One of your hands rose to his cheek, and you watched with morbid fascination the paleness on your fingertips, almost blue. You were far too tired to care about it, the edge of your consciousness slipping away once more.

“We should go” you muttered, tapping those frozen fingers against his cheek. His head just rolled back.

You tried to listen to his heart, to make sure he was alive and had survived the drug. But you blacked out before you could worry about it.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes , @bakananya , @tele86 , @lilah-asteria

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 2 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji, Pham Hanni (ft. Jisoo, Seungyeon, Seolhyun)

Length: 8018 words

Tags: You know what? How about no tags. Yes, really. This is very similar to the rest of the On her series, especially cuz it's a Part 2. Go have fun, I know you will have it ;)

TW: rushed editing, a terrible friend, nothing but sex matters

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being a fantastic co-writer!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part3-

(A/N: This fic has it all: from three cameos to rapid fire scene changes to betrayal to an all-time threesome combo. Have fun with these grown-ass women!)

"What the fuck, Unnie?" 

"What?" Kazuha says, not even bothering to turn her attention to the young girl. 

"He… I—" 

The ballerina then turns around to see tears forming in Minji's eyes. This is how so many of them must have looked when the realization came crashing over them like a merciless tsunami. Did I really just do this? Is it worth it? Will he ever have enough?

"As he should." Kazuha's expression turns cold, uncaring.  "I did exactly what you asked me to. I sent you to him. It looks like you weren't good enough for him. That's on you. If you can't stick it out, maybe you aren't cut out for all of this." 

"What—do you really feel that way? Is that why you do it?" Minji sobs.

"At the start sure, but now I know: he is my whole world, all that I could need or want. 

“I love him," Kazuha says with unflinching conviction.

"Really?" Minji shouts and Kazuha quickly shuts her up with a palm on her sore lips.

"Yes, really, and if you screw this up, I swear, I'll make your life a living hell." Kazuha looks around the long corridors of the Hybe building. She then removes her hand from Minji's lips and unexpectedly dives straight to the younger’s ear. "You can be a good girl for him, call him Master or Daddy and get your brains fucked out—but don't ever get in between us. When the time is right, I'll be the only one for him.

"Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, Zuha-unnie."

"Good. Now, what did he say you need to do?"

#

A seemingly never ending, vicious cycle starts for Minji. She works her butt off, dances the entire day, goes through hours of meetings, recordings—and instead of going to bed every day, she takes every conceivable measure to go straight to your office. 

She walks in, lays on the table and waits for you to finish a call. At first, it's a mystery who you are talking to, but she finds out that it's all kinds of producers, managers, executives and most importantly—idols.

"So how is everything going?" Jisoo dreamily asks from the other end of the line.

"Well, I almost fucked up,” you respond in all honesty and drop your pants. “I almost slipped and told one of the new prospects they reminded me of you." 

Jisoo's face softens and smiles. It’s like you can hear every movement of her facial bones. "Oh? Care to tell me who? Is she prettier than I was back then?" 

"Impossible," You say sincerely. 

"You're sweet, but don't think you're off the hook for that little quick tryst you had with Jennie. Rosie's sad about it. You need to make it up to her. And you need to make it up to me too." Jisoo says the last part a bit forcefully and you imagine scrunches on her face to show you her seriousness.

"I know,” you sigh and rub a finger along Minji’s throat and cheeks without thinking about her or the incredible sensation of her skin. “I will, I will. I miss you." 

"I know you do. You tell me every time we talk. I miss you too, Daddy.” That’s always how Jisoo finishes a long distance conversation. She wishes you were there, with a hand in her panties. She wants to moan your name into your ear, your actual name, and not scream it out when rubbing one out under some hotel bed sheets. But Jisoo will have to wait.

The moment you finish the call, you start to pull out your hard cock and press it into Minji’s wide open mouth. She makes sure to keep her lips moisturized at all times, but she can never be ready for the strong impact of your hips hitting her head and rocking her back and forth on the desk.

With every single one of those meetings, Minji's clothes become more revealing, to the point she gasps whenever she sees herself in a public mirror. People on the train start to watch her round ass bounce in short shorts, then in very short shorts, then in a miniskirt.

Minji wonders how she is able to push through this. Her sleep gets shorter, the training rougher, the meetings more intense—worst of all, you become more violent too. It all reaches a peak when Minji is unable to shower because otherwise she would be too late. 

In her dirty, sweaty state, she sprints to your office and bursts through the door, just to be greeted by the sight of you roughly fucking—destroying—the huge ass of a familiar idol.

"You are fuck-ing late!" you growl and slam the bendover idol against the desk a final time. Minji hurries around the wooden monstrosity to get into her, by now well-known position. It is then that she realizes who you are fucking: Seungyeon, the former dancer of CLC.

"What are you?" you shout at Seungyeon and smack her ass hard.

"Your stupid, bubble-butt bitch, Master," she wails in a weird mix of pain and euphoria. She gets a tap on said bubble-butt with your cock.

"How do you want it, bitch?"

"Harder, Master."

"What are you going to get?"

"What Master wants."

"Exactly."

Minji lets her head hang off the edge, only a few inches away from where you annihilate Seungyeon's dignity and her asshole with your inches. Both you and the idol grunt like animals in heat, but for her it sounds blissful, for you more like work.

And so Minji lays there, drenched in sweat, and the weirdness of being forced to watch other people fuck never really fading. It's stranger the more she has seen or admired an idol. No matter who, everyone she saw has folded to you, and Seungyeon might be the most submissive. How she degrades herself and begs for you to ruin and spit on her—

"Good bitch, keep your ass gaping!"

Suddenly, the cock is on Minji's face and she looks past it in shock. Your expression, though a bit exhausted, remains stern.

"Open fucking wide, Minji," you command and Minji gulps. This cock has just been in Seungyeon's ass, maybe for hours, and though it looks spotless, she can't bring herself to—

Minji gasps and that is enough. You push against her lips, into her mouth and start to use it to 'clean' yourself—really, it is just training for Minji to trust you and accept your commands.

Though her first reaction was a gag of disgust, Minji has to admit to herself quickly that Seungyeon's ass on your cock tastes great. It's an embarrassing secret which she will never tell anyone.

You switch between the holes a couple more times before creaming Seungyeon. While Minji has her final cleaning session, you order the older idol to clean Minji's feet and calves off sweat.

No hesitation, Minji realizes, as Seungyeon does not leave out an inch of her skin.

Seungyeon isn't the only one showing complete devotion to you and your every order. You've had a few other idols over before or after Minji's throat-stretching. The young soon-to-be idol knew them, but they weren't the stars yet she saw in your profile list. The thought that you might have been bluffing with controlling the likes of Blackpink, aespa or Red Velvet crossed her mind, but they faded whenever she thought of Kazuha's success.

She wants that too, no, Minji wants to pass Kazuha and so she comes back to you, no matter how hard the companies’ training is fucking her. Then finally comes the day—actually, the day before the day. 

The not-yet NewJeans member lays on your table. She returned from the final pre-debut meeting and was ready for you to quickly walk in and fuck her face, but you never came. For endless hours, the entire fucking night, Minji had to lay there and wait. She could've left at any time, but the gravity of this situation, this presumed test, pulled her down to the flat, wooden surface. 

No matter how uncomfortable it got, she did not stand up. You could be around the corner at any second. The thought of her giving up right as you walk in gave Minji a weird mixture of fear and arousal, further amplified when she had to keep herself from falling asleep. A hand in her soaked panties, Minji played the fantasy out in her head:

You would walk in and find her asleep. Angry by her inability to follow orders and service her Master, you decide to punish her. When you find her panties wet, the desk covered in girl juice, you wouldn't hesitate to plunge into Minji's tight, virgin cunt and fuck her awake. It would hurt, but Minji wouldn't stop cumming!

She can't stop cumming, her fingers rub her clit to completion and now real juice runs down your desk. Minji is wide awake, but an hour later, she does it again, again, again, until you finally enter the room. Casually, as if Minji isn't completely spent and almost fully naked on your work desk.

The sparkle in her eyes is priceless. Out of all the crazy shit you pulled on this formerly innocent virgin, this was the task that broke her. You don't know the exact moment, but you will never forget this moment where you see her orbs and know that she is past her prostitute stage.

"This is actually impressive," you say with a coy smile while gently caressing Minji's forehead. "I see you... had fun last night?"

"Sorry, Master," Minji carefully apologizes and kisses your hand. "I made a mess."

"Don't worry, I'll call someone to clean it later. Now, get on your knees and show me what you have learned."

She is dizzy, barely able to stand, but luckily, Minji's place is at your feet, hands wrapped around your length. Her strokes are soft, careful, and she does not wait to use her tongue on you. After a minute, she sees the impatience in your look and uses her mouth. Quickly it’s wrapped around your tip and for the first time ever, Minji fucks her face on your cock.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaim. There is some actual joy in that, especially when you can lazily put Minji's hair in a makeshift ponytail and watch her go down on your crotch in surprisingly quick succession. "This is good, this is fucking—great!

"Hold still."

Your heart pumps like crazy, but it's nothing compared to your hips which start to obliterate Minji's throat. Your cock bulges her visibly and she starts to shake. Usually, she'd have her teeth at spots where they don't belong, but at long last, she has learned. 

She takes it well, like a slut should. Not yet one of your perfect sluts however. It's all a bit rushed; her debut, the training, the stretching. Considering this, she is definitely good and her gags sound delicious. 

You pull out of her mouth. Minji triest to catch her breath, instead catches three of your fingers which you also use to fuck her mouth while locking eyes. The salty tears that stream from hers look so delicious and you love how, no matter how many chokes you force out of her, there is no fight or flight response. She takes it.

"Become sloppy, slut, get your drool out. I want to see you become a mess for your Master!"

Minji twitches. She is dazed, your fingers become glazed; then an avalanche spurts forth, of more tears and drool that starts to cover her chin and stain your floor. You want more, so you replace your fingers with your cock and fuck her throat again, never slowly, only hard and fast. At this point, the poor girl beneath you is dehydrated and the pool on her thighs and the tiles excessive. You stop.

"Fuck, this is what I mean. This is how you suck cock, Minji."

"G-glad you l-like it—Master."

"Go clean up your mess."

"Yes, Master."

When Minji goes down to lick and suck her saliva from the floor, you rest your shiny, polished shoe on her cheek and bask in the faint sun, dawning right before your office window.

"You will go home and sleep," you order firmly. "The only contact we will have is when you send me a video of you masturbating in your debut panties. Send me those panties in the mail, and you'll soon lift your first music show trophy."

Lean down after Minji has collected all the slick and press an unmistakable love bite right under her right breast. Minji mewls as you do so.

"The-they'll probably try to hide the mark, Master."

"Good." Pat her head. "No one can know what happened here."

"Of course, Master."

"You've been a good girl, Minji. Now go out there and become a bigger star than you could've ever dreamed of."

"Thank you, Master."

#

Months go by where Minji is mostly a concept for you, some asset to be discussed in meeting with your connections in HYBE. Rarely did she send a direct message to you—except for the video you asked for. It's nice that she didn't totally forget about you. After a busy day that calls for vacation and a nice, warm pussy on your cock, you turn on the TV to watch the most important year-end award show. 

A quick scroll down your contact list, you pick someone you know is nearby, obedient and definitely warm. The calls with Seolhyun are never longer than ten seconds, because she knows she's got to be there for her Daddy.

"You ever miss this?" you ask her when she sits down on your cock, panties still around her ankles, jacket still hanging from her shoulders.

"The awards? Sometimes, but—oh fuck!” Seolhyun is interrupted by you thrusting upwards while you care more for the TV than her. “Yes, more Daddy. They are nothing compared to your cock, your touch, your love!" 

Seolhyun tightens when she moans these words and you give her more of your touch, your thrusts, your cock. Soon she is bouncing in rhythm with it and begs for you to rub her clit. You won’t do so yet, would be boring if she’d get all the things that make her cum so easily.

"What do you think of her, Seolhyun?” You nod towards the screen as it captures Minji in all her beauty and on stage charisma. “Think she can capture the nation's heart like you once did?" 

"Minji, right? I think so."

That is the first time Minji has been in your sight since when her face was pressed to the floor. She looks like a proper star, close to being a super star (their next song will guarantee it) and her attitude reflects that. Don't touch me, I'm better than you, get out of my way, who even are you? - you imagine how she feels towards these other, lesser known people around her. 

Minji's dream came true and you were the pixy dust. Now you deem it the right time to get a hold of her. In between comebacks, right after all the award shows, she will have no excuses. Time to pay up, you text her, with a location, time and date while your finger disappears in Seolhyun’s asshole.

#

The day comes and you've checked into your favorite spa-hotel with excitement. The security and privacy here are top notch, or at least they are for you. See, it’s all about connections and here you have the best connections and can make sure that no rumors spread and that all information comes to you in no time. Minji will be here shortly and you've already painted the pictures of her naked body in your head, scenes where she undresses, spreads her legs and folds, begs for you to part her—

You hear the door open. From your seated position on the bed, you look expectantly at the entrance to the bedroom which Minji finds shortly after, her fluffy, thick jacket already falling from her shoulders.

"Hello, Master," she sultrily says with a smile. You reciprocate it.

"I see you've been doing great," you skip the greeting and walk over to her. A gentle push and the jacket fully falls off. Minji's outfit underneath is surprisingly thin for this season; there could be snowfall outside any day now and she runs around in a white crop and skinny denim.

"Those jeans look good on you." Stare down at her eyes while you check the quality of those mentioned jeans by fondling her butt, then her thighs and lastly her crotch. "Very expensive, HYBE is already paying you?"

"It's all the ads we do," Minji quickly responds, her breath halted while she does the unthinkable and moves your hand away from her crotch. "I... I never thought it would work so quickly."

"Yeah, it feels surreal, almost too quickly," you say with careful annoyance, unsure how to judge Minji's hand on your wrist holding you back from getting to feel more of her body.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Master, thank you very much~"

"You see, Minji..."

Her shoulders in your firm grasp, you move Minji to the next wall and position her in such a way that she is trapped and your knee is able to gradually push up against her covered pussy. The young girl tries to resist, she is suddenly flustered, oh how this should remind her of her success.

"... no one was ever this successful without a big commitment. Your commitments until now were nothing."

"Tha-that's why I'm here. Master, I'll suck your cock as much as you want, I'll let you deepthroat me hard, even for the entire night!"

You scoff and give Minji's cheek a quick, small slap. Your knee has now become the only pillar that keeps her upright. She has to balance and rub her slightly moistened folds on them so as to not to fall over.

"Sucking? Deep throating? Oh you're still so naive. No. You, Minji… belong to me. All of you, which means any hole. You are mine to use however I want."

"Wha—no!" She puts a hand on her cheek and looks at you with puppy eyes that beg so pathetically, like the thought that you took this deal seriously is a shocking reveal. You roll your eyes at her and find the top button of her jeans, but Minji starts to fight back with a loud, whiny voice.

"No, Master, you don't understand! Un-unlike all those other idols, I'm... I'm still a virgin. I don't want to lose it now, not here, not—"

"That is not up to you!"

Your shout halts time and space, only Minji's facial expression matters. She looks honest, absolutely in dread that it might happen at not the moment she wants it to. She cannot fathom giving you or anyone that control, she wants it special and precious and all those nonsense illusions. It's gut wrenchingly annoying but you will not go too far to break her now; you're too fond of her for that. 

Call it your weakness and curse you for that.

"We had a deal."

"I-I know."

"And you don't want to fulfill it?"

"I'm sorry, Ma-Master, please don't—"

"Then offer me something equally valuable." Minji looks at you in confusion. You drop her from the wall and hand her your phone. "Put in the number of someone whose virginity I can take. They have to be your sacrifice, your warrantor, and they have to agree to the same contract.

"You will then come with her to me and will watch how I take her virginity. You will watch every fucking pump I put into her pussy. She will testify, she will call me Master and she will love it. That's your only way, you better bring me someone."

Minji clutches the cell phone, her life-line, her lever to the trolley problem, except the train that was about to hit her can only be directed at another girl.

"And Minji,” you add in controlled yet uncontrollable rage. “I want her here, now. I want someone worthy of my time and touch. Or else. You will call them and then you will be on your knees sucking my cock while we wait."

Sweat comes pouring down Minji's forehead. You can hear the inner workings of her brain scramble, trying to find someone she can push in between you and her. There is no submission to you and there is no urge to flee and break your deal. 

Minji genuinely tries to sell you someone. Despicable, everything for success.

"D-do you know Hanni?" she suddenly stutters, quietly, ashamed but her fingers are already dialing up her friends number.

"I have never met her." You laugh in disbelief and turn your back to Minji. "You're really going to sell your bandmate? Are you not friends?"

"I—she's the only one I know who is a virgin but not... not... not unwilling."

You cock your eyebrow and listen to Minji's call which is surprisingly short. No mention of you or your arrangement, just the location and some details. Definitely no one is allowed to know of this and yes, Hanni has to be swift.

Minji ends the call and you immediately throw her to the ground, her head on the cushions of the nearby bed, your belt already loose, a hand on your pants.

"Pull them down and open your fucking mouth." Minji does so, the shock in her eyes is wonderful when you push past her lips and against the back of her throat in one go. Violent choking. "You are terrible, the worst friend, but at least you know how to make that mouth-pussy of yours work. Go on! Fucking use your tongue."

Minji starts to gag, trying to adjust to your cock, not realizing you weren't even fully hard yet. You never were with her. 

"Good, all the way. Use your tongue and saliva, let me fucking feel it."

You kick off your trousers and put more force in your hips so that your long shaft may fill Minji's deepest depths. It pushes out a lot of saliva, a waterfall that tumbles down her chin and covers her top. From your point of view you may not see it, but you know that Minji's aroused nipples poke through her bra and show that no matter how hard you fuck her face or belittle her, she's yours.

Minji's mind shall only be occupied with satisfying you, so even her still lacking tongue and lips do their best to suck you from tip to base—you make sure she never slacks by pistoning in and out of her.

After about 30 minutes of slowly thrusting in and out of here and replying to texts on your phone, you receive a message from the hotel staff that someone has arrived and come to see you. Minji tries to tap on your leg, indicating she wished to be freed of this position. You shake your head, no. 

"Oh, you don't want your bandmate to see you like this? That's not an option."

The sound of a door opening echoes through the hotel room and Minji panics, flailing wildly, her eyes tearing up and begging, begging so well—maybe she can finally grasp what she has gotten her friend into—

"Hello? Minji, are you here? Is everything okay?"

—but she still has so much to learn. Smack her cheek a final time, loud enough for Hanni to gasp at the front door. Before she can enter the bedroom, you pull out of Minji's mouth and push her towards the door. 

"Minji?" Hanni asks again and rushes towards her. Minji stops her, both of them shriek in shock. "Oh my Gosh, Minji, it is you! You scared me!"

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"You look... messy. Is everything alright? I'm sorry if I took too long, you sounded so sad and terrified."

"Hanni, I," Minji stutters, hesitates, maybe even contemplates. It all makes her seem as if she has a heart and does not want to use Hanni to keep her virginity, but deep down everyone has to know that she is not a good person. No one would sell their friend for something like this. Minji is cold hearted when it comes to her career and things she believes she rightfully owns. "I have to ask something crazy of you."

"Okay? Look, you need to calm down first, maybe clean your face up and then we can talk ab—"

"Hanni, please." You hear some uncertain steps, as if someone is almost falling over and is ultimately pressed to a wall. You hear a wet sound, then a moan. Your cock is going crazy at all the possible things that might happen right around the corner and later in this bed. "Do you trust me?"

"Why did you kiss me, Minji?"

"Do you trust your leader?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a bit scared though, what have you gotten into?" Hanni's voice is full of concern and so is her face which you see for the first time when Minji guides her into the bedroom, arms around Hanni's tiny waist.

Hanni is in complete shock. 

"Minji, what is this? Who is this man?" You still have your pants down and cock out. 

Unfazed, you smile at the girl. "Minji, tell your friend what you did."

"Have you never wondered," Minji starts right away and tightens her hold on the younger band member. "Why so much changed before our debut, why the success was imminent, why it didn't stop? Have you never questioned all the blessings we received?"

"I-I... what was I supposed to think?" Hanni weakly laughs and tries to avoid the sight of your erection, but she can't because Minji is slowly inching her closer to it. "We are in a gr-great company, smart managers, pro-ducers... so who are you?"

"He is the reason, he is why we did not fail. Look, Hanni, I had to do it, okay?"

"Do what? Sell your body?" Hanni looks over her shoulder at the glassy-eyed leader of her group who gives her the tiniest nod. In those large, round orbs of the young Vietnamese woman you see the realization kick in bit by bit. At first she does not want to accept it, then she cannot believe it—but at last, she has to put it into words.

"You sold your body... and now he wants more."

"He wants something only you can give him," Minji whispers and pecks Hanni's cheek. You are astonished at how she manipulates her dongsaeng, Minji truly is ruthless; but Hanni's calmness deserves an award. She seems to surrender to this idea easily. There is no flight, there is barely any fight—she accepts her situation. 

"Will you give it to him? Your virginity?"

"Minji, I—"

"That's not the entire truth is it, Minji?" You smirk coldly. "You are a pretty thing, Hanni. She's right, I do want more. It's not something only you can give me, rather, it's something Minji refuses to give me. So instead, she offered you to me. Your precious group leader sold you out."

Put her tiny chin into your hand and for the first time, Hanni locks eyes with you. Minji's manipulation roots deeper, as there is not a hint of belief in the words you say. Rather, Hanni listens to the girl in her ear, at her ear, that licks her ear and tells her sweet lies:

"He is playing with you. He likes to play. But don't worry, he will help us.

"Don't you want to be a star, Hanni? The most successful foreign idol?" You hear Minji opening Hanni's belt as she melts in between your thumb and index finger. Her lips look so full and perfect. You'd bet your career that she is already a great sucker, maybe even better than Minji is at this point. "My sacrifice can't be for nothing, and yours won't be either."

Hanni's pants drop to the floor, while you work to get rid of her jacket. She is like a Barbie doll: pretty, clear skin, obedient, ready to be undressed and played with. No matter what you do or where you touch, she just obliges while her features become redder and hotter. Soon, she wears nothing but her undergarments.

"You have an amazing body," you compliment her. She just nods. You order Minji to put Hanni on your bed. For now, you'll not reveal the whole story, the truth: yes, you play games, but Minji clearly is lying to Hanni, trying to get away with more than questionable methods.

You respect Minji for that. Yes, in this dedication, the lies, you see devotion for you. She is willing to sacrifice herself and even her friend for your satisfaction. It wouldn't be long now until she would truly be turned into a loyal one for you. 

You have a suspicion and you would test it out here. 

"Hanni Pham, a bright star plucked out of Australia, a Viet idol with international appeal. And a lovely voice too, dare I say even prettier than Minji's..." 

You smirk, sensing the hurt from Minji without even looking.

"Will you tell me your name?" Hanni asks as you crawl on top of her. Minji placed her in a missionary position and still rubs her hand all over her exposed thighs so she would open her legs for you.

"You don't need my name, you just need to know what I can do and what I want. My deal with Minji benefits you a lot. Tell me, how does it feel to hold a music show trophy or one of those MAMA awards?"

"G-good, Sir, it's quite the," Hanni gasps when you push her legs open and place a finger on her white, innocent panties. You search for a bit until you find her clit and rub it from side to side. "Thrill."

"Drop the Sir, with me Hanni." Lean down to her pink lips, those round, moisturized and smooth lips. "Call me Daddy."

Minji's eyes widen and she almost lets out a whimper as if to object to you. A first encounter and you already let her call you, Daddy? Did you already like Hanni more than her when you haven’t even received pleasure yet? 

"Daddy?" Hanni responds unsure. 

"Yes, Hanni. You'll be a good girl for me won't you? That's all I want. Good, loyal girls. If you do that, you can have anything you desire."

"Daddy, I want to be successful and I want to give you what you need for that." She whimpers when you put more pressure on her nub. "B-but I'm a bit scared. I have never put something inside."

"I think your friend here can help you with that. After all, she got you into that situation." You glance at Minji and she gets what you mean, though the envy at Hanni's preferential treatment is clearly visible on her wrinkled forehead.

Minji leans down and gives Hanni a firm kiss while replacing your hand on the clit that has steadily hardened and is now aroused to the point Hanni's panties become stained with wet spots.

You glance at Minji in thanks. 

"Oh and Minji: no more kissing Hanni unless I command it. Her lips and your lips, belong to me only. Is that clear?" She can only meekly nod. "I hope you haven't been touching anyone else during our time together, Minji. That would really upset me." 

You already know the answer. Given how easily Minji’s and Hanni’s lips connected just this evening, you know it's something they are comfortable with. That would end now. 

Before Minji can answer you, you focus back on Hanni and the sticky sensation spreading over your fingers.

"Already wet for me? You're taking to my touch a lot better than your leader. Tell me, Hanni, you're not afraid of me, are you? Just ask me to touch you more. Tell me what you want."

Hanni is still hesitant, though there is shyness only in the way her mouth doesn't move and admit to her body's obvious reaction. She leaks onto your fingers, her chest heaves heavily, faster. You insert a finger, as well as part of those drenched panties inside her and finally, the right words slip out.

"Your fingers feel so good, fu-uck."

"That's what I wanted to hear." You smile and lean down to Hanni's face. Her lips instinctively pucker, her eyes fall shut, oh, how incredible: she is already yours. You let her wait there, finger twirling, pretending to push aside her panties and go for the real deal, but you're all teasing. Hanni mewls.

"Please, D-Daddy, kiss me."

"I will, when I put it in."

"W-will it hurt? Will you hurt me Daddy?"

"Only if you want me to, baby girl, but you want what Daddy wants, right? It might hurt to begin with, but it will feel so good for both of us." 

The chemistry between you two surprises Minji as she backs off, her hands away from the young women for the first time. Hanni nods. 

"Make me feel good, Daddy. I trust you."

Hook your fingers in Hanni's panties and at last, her soaked entrance is exposed, for your eyes only. You stroke your cock a couple of times, get the fresh girl juice all over it and gaze over the insanely well-trained body you're about to ravish.

Hanni's abdomen is to die for. The muscles on her midriff are absolutely stunning, the same goes for her navel perfectly resting in between them and then further up her subtle boobs, which Minji frees from the bra after your command. It all ends with Hanni’s chin, the sweat that runs down her throat, the faint sparkle of perfection—to sum it up, Hanni is incredibly beautiful.

You take hold of her hips and bask in the way your cock and her hole are magnetically attracted and connect. Hanni throws her head back at the impact and with every inch you stuff into her, her breathing becomes more erratic. Funnily enough, the same goes for Minji, who quietly scoots back and rests at the headboard of the bed.

As you slowly pump half of your cock in and out of the tight cavern, Minji goes for the same rhythm and rubs her clit, hand buried in her pants. She even goes and opens the first buttons. Is it really this girl that wants to keep control over her virginity? Let her have it for now, she'll be yours soon enough.

"Daddy, just focus on me!” Hanni whines out her first words after becoming a full blown woman. “You-you didn't need her, right?"

"Then make me forget, baby girl. Squeeze my cock with your pink little pussy." You go and have a taste of Hanni’s fat lips again, wishing they would suck your balls right now. Hanni could become a whore who would worship your crown jewels like no other. Better than Minji, whose eyes beg to be involved in the action. "Spread your legs more, I want to fuck you harder, Hanni.

"Oh and Minji: Go and suck my balls! That's what you're good for."

"O-okay, Master."

"Be grateful for it. But remember, no cumming."

"Thank you, Master."

"Daddy?” Hanni whimpers softly. “Why does she call you, Master? Is one better?" 

"Oh baby girl. Daddy is more affectionate. It's what you deserve. Minji still has to learn, her heart isn't in this yet."

Minji's heart might not be in the right place (rather the place you intend it to be) but her lips surely are. She gives your swinging balls a good suck and slows done the pace at which your fucking Hanni's pussy. 

It's amazing how well she adjusted to your size, even with your length and girth growing continuously at her fantastic heat and texture. Hanni handles you like a pro, and like one of your pro girls, she is already more drool than straight thoughts.

"Does it feel good, Daddy's hard cock in your virgin pussy? Get used to it because it's the only thing your hole will know. I will be the only one to use your holes, is that clear?"

"Oh Daddy, oh Daddy," Hanni moans and her body rocks violently on the bed sheets. "You-you are so much better."

"Better than what, baby girl?"

Hanni puts both her weak hands on the back of your head and pulls you down to where her lips meet your ears to tell you lewd things that Minji must not hear.

"Better than Minji's fingers."

You take this as a cue to grab Hanni's thighs and angle her in such a way that you can slam into her cunt harder. You let gravity do the work while the force of the entire bed frame shaking has Minji trembling in awe. She rubs her thighs together and tries to keep her hands busy with other spots of her heated body.

You can see that she wants to rub her clit while you make Hanni cum during her precious first time. She is probably projecting, wants you to go softly, then harder, but that is not your game.

"Hanni, no more of that, no more Minji's fingers. Only Daddy shall touch you from now on. You are mine and I'm going to go as hard as I want." You growl out slamming into her even more. "Take it all, Hanni, prove your fucking worth to me."

"Thank y-you, Daddy," Hanni begins her way down the rabbit hole of subjugation towards only you. The new life she will enter, all the changes, challenges and benefits will overwhelm her, but first you overwhelm her with your rod. "Thank you, for help-ing us, thank you for the wins, thank—ah, Daddy, I'm cumming! My pussy is cumming! Thank you for your cock, Daddy!"

You enter a nirvana drilling into Hanni's tight cunt. 

"Good girl, yes thank me, beg me, need me. This is the only cock you will ever have from now on and—" You kiss her with wanton lust, shoving your tongue in her mouth. The next whisper in Hanni's ear is out of Minji’s reach, though she might be too distracted from your delicious balls to get what you were saying either way. 

"Daddy! I understand, yes." 

Without losing focus of your hammering, you give a dismissive order to Minji, who is not worth your eyes on her.

"You can go Minji. I don't need you here. In fact, we can end our deal. You got what you needed right? Wins and fame. I won't meddle with your group in anyway. You are free to go."

"What?" Minji shrieks, completely offended that you could say such a thing.

"You heard me. Fuck. Off." Every word is empathized by a huge thrust that bulges Hanni's tummy. She stares at it in infinite bliss, then throws her head back as you knead her small tits and make the nipples hard like steel.

"B-but Master, you can't just do that."

"You did not keep your part of the bargain and still got what you wanted. Why the hell are you still here?"

"But I did!” Minji argues and climbs in front of you on the bed. “I brought you, Hanni, Master! I—" 

"Hanni, turn around and get in position, I want both of us to look at Minji. I'm going to fuck you from behind.

"What's wrong, Minji? You never truly wanted me in the first place. We both got what we needed from our deal. You don't need my help, your group will be successful. I made sure of it. I am releasing you from our contract with no punishments. Take the fucking deal, Minji."

Minji sits there, on the bed, not moving from her position. In utter shock as she watches Hanni smile and moan as you take her from behind, her pussy stretched again. God, how good she must feel, that face says it all. The pleasure, the desire, all the praises for your cock and it's only because she has her tongue sticking out like it's numb.

Suddenly, it all seems so clear to Minji, so easy to comprehend. She takes a deep breath and learns towards you, her upper body prompted up. All that just to throw her dignity away, to throw herself underneath you.

"Daddy, please! Give me your cock too! Take my virginity, don't push me away!"

You stop thrusting into Hanni right away and pull out for a moment to look at her. 

"Bullshit. I told you we were done here. You don't mean that. You just want my power and connections like everyone else."

"No, I mean it," Minji reassures, but words are nothing when it comes to her current state. She has to follow it up with more, significantly more. You doubt that she can deliver, but low and behold, she unbuttons her jeans and peels them off to show her long legs and the thoroughly drenched panties.

"Mi-Minji, what in the," Hanni moans and goes silent when you smack her ass. It's unbelievable that she is already so obedient and well-trained without training. The more she impresses you, the more Minji has to follow up. Soon she is on her back, jeans on the floor, shut legs turned towards you.

You put your hand on her thigh and though it's tough on her, Minji spreads her trembling legs wide. You poke her lips through her panties and when she squirms you give her a quick slap on her face. 

"Look at me, Minji," you order and she does. "Beg me, call me Master until I have given you, no, until I have taken what is rightfully mine."

"Please, Master," Minji cries out. "Please take my virginity, y-you own it."

"Louder," you growl and smack her covered pussy. Minji cries out, her pleas louder and louder with every new hit you give her cunt. Oh the way her eyes sparkle and body jerks is addicting, you don't realize that you have started to fuck back into Hanni who might have seen Minji naked before, who might have had sex with her—

—but this is new. Minji is a brainless mess, her pussy red from the beating, her face fully in tears. 

"Master, fuck my pussy, please! Fuck this pussy, my worthless pussy, it's yours! Make me full, make me full, I don't deserve it!"

"Now we are getting there," you viciously laugh and grab her chin to aggressively tonguefuck her wet, silly mouth. Minji is such a mess, dazed to the point Hanni's hands undressing her top after your order doesn't even faze her. Her top is gone, her bra as well. All that's left are her panties and Hanni has her fingers already hooked in them.

"Wait, Hanni, she should do it alone."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Ma-Master?"

"Lay down, Minji.

"Pull them to the side.

"Show me your pussy.

"Say it.”

Minji slowly and clumsily works on pulling and getting her wet panties off of her. There is an unfathomable amount of embarrassment in the way Minji’s eyes cannot hold your strong, charismatic gaze for long.

"Shall I feast on your pussy, Minji?" You ask with a smirk and hunger in your eyes.

They all turn eventually. It sometimes sounds so sudden and drastic, but it's all more or less the same. It builds up over time, like an orgasm. Some girls are quiet, until it bursts out of them in a heavy gush that has the entire floor wet. Some are loud the entire way through and what was once only lip service becomes reality, a reality they adore.

They all turn and they all get your cock. So does Minji, with her finger still spreading those sore, red folds and you ignoring her pleasure just to find yours in this wet, messy hole. Minji's cunt is remarkable, cute in the way it ripples and tightens and incredibly lewd in the way it sounds when you slam yourself in and out while holding onto her slim waist.

Now she is part of the loud girls, those idols that suddenly come to worship you more than the career that they fought so hard for. It will be later that they realize that this is the way they get approval from their company, their sponsors, their fans. You are success, the Queen maker for the outside world and a toy maker in your bedroom.

Minji is a great toy. She is euphoric now, the pain already gone. She makes sure to adjust to your will, lifts her hips off the ground when you need to slow down, shows you her tongue when you go for a kiss, and always says the right things. It was so hard for her not long ago, but now she is willing to do it despite Hanni laying next to her and admiring both of you fucking like animals. 

"Hanni," you groan and hammer your cock balls deep into Minji, who throws her head back in another (accidental) orgasm. "I know you want to fuck both of us so bad, but if you don't touch yourself until I'm finished with her, I'm gonna cum on your pretty face and tell you how good you are, okay?"

"O-okay, Daddy," Hanni mewls. Not that she would have touched herself, but you can't blame her for considering it. Caress her cheek softly for being so good, then fucking destroy Minji's cunt because she has been so bad.

"Master, more, pl-please, fuck!" Minji howls with pleasure. 

"You're going to be my good girl from now on, right?" 

"Yes, Master, use me however you want. I-I just want to live to fulfill your desires. Master!" 

You stare deeply at her and pause right before the next spike rattles Minji’s brain. 

"Really? With every atom in your body. Tell me again, Minji."

"Every-thing." Minji can barely talk but does so for you, despite you, despite the large dick that is reshaping her insides. "You own everything, Master. You c-can use me daily, everywhere, any-time. I-I mean it!"

You lean down to her and give her a simple, hard thrust to make sure she gets your point.

"You're a good girl?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then call me Daddy," you whisper into her ear and put a hand on her throat, ready to press down on it.

"Thank you, Daddy," Minji rasps before you choke her hard and fuck her absolutely senseless. Orgasm after orgasm shoots through her frame, her existence becomes numb, she is a fleshlight now. The vibrations of her climax become your stimulation and at the last possible second, you pull out of that twitching hole. 

"Get on your knees Hanni," you order in time. Hanni kneels before you as you somehow slide off the bed, legs a bit shaky and with her head thrown back because you could not resist pulling her raven hair, you cum all over her features. "God, you are such a pretty girl. I can't believe such beauty loves cum on her face."

"It's Daddy's cum," Hanni moans and sucks on your tip to get more on her lips. The rest has mostly covered her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. "Of course I like it!"

"That is right, baby girl, well said," you compliment her and pat her head while she instinctively cleans your cock with superb care. "Did you ever service someone else?"

"No?" Hanni asks and collects your cream off of her stupidly gorgeous face.

"You, I swear to God, you can't be that good right from the start."

Hanni pouts her lips and puts them under your cock. She truly is one in a million, the rare idol who barely hesitates and immediately knows how to do the right things. In many regards, she reminds you of Kazuha, who told you it was her kinks that made her adapt so easily. Maybe this is the case for Hanni as well. Should that make her devotion less impressive?

"Daddy?" Hanni cutely asks and waits.

"Open your mouth, I need to fuck it now."

[sturniowhore]

Bf!Chris hcs

warnings: fluff, smut (nsfw section), established relationship, Chris x fem!reader, some blurbs are long

A/n: FIC #2 LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not that proud of this one ngl

Tags: @d3axplr @mattsturnziolio

SFW

Bf!Chris who is insanely clingy. He'll always be attached to you in one way or another.

It was 11am, you have to go to work in 2 hours. You tried getting up but your boyfriend was basically smothering you. "Chris I need to get ready" You whined, trying to push him off. Instead of letting you leave like any normal person would, Chris just held you tighter against him. "Just call in sick" "Chris, you made me call in sick 2 days ago I'm gonna get fired." The boy just shrugged, not caring. "you don't need a job I buy everything for you anyway." "Chris I'm being serious I have to go." You tried sitting up, it was no use he just pushed you down. "5 more minutes" "That's what you said 15 minutes ago!"

Bf!Chris who never lets you do anything, why would you do it when he has 2 hands himself?

You and Chris were coming home from a shopping trip at the mall. His hands were filled with several of your shopping bags, and your hands were empty. Chris didn't mind, he was the one who offered to carry them. As the two of you approached the front door, your hands went inside your purse that was on your shoulder, searching for the house key. You brought out the key, twisting it on the key hole and were about to open it before Chris's hands stopped you. "i got it." He smirked down at you. You raised your eyebrows "Chris you're so sweet but your hands are literally full." He waved you off, moving in front of you to get to the door. He struggled a bit but managed to twist the handle, allowing for the door to open. He kicked the door with his foot, motioning for you to get in with his head. "After you" he grinned. You laughed at his gesture and went inside, Chris following close behind.

Bf!Chris who always pays attention, he'll see you pick up a book or a trinket you find interesting and make a mental note of buying it for you later.

The two of you were at a small bookstore. You were browsing the shelves humming to the song that was playing in the store, Chris right behind you like a lost puppy. Every so often you would pick up a book you found interesting, reading the back of it to learn what it's about then put it back where it was. When you go on to a different section of the store, Chris takes a picture of the book that was just in your hands, promising himself that he's going to buy it for you in a couple days.

Bf!Chris who buys you flowers randomly.

It was a random Thursday afternoon. You were hanging out in the living room reading a book when you heard the door opening. Nick, Matt and Chris came back home after filming a vlog for their channel. Chris came up the stairs practically sprinting towards you, his hands behind his back. "guess what?" "what?" you look up at him smiling. He reveals his hands from behind him and gives you a bouquet of pink tulips. "They reminded me of you so I had to get em." Matt rolled his eyes at the interaction "We were 2 minutes away from the house and he made me turn all the way back for just for them."

Bf!Chris who will always put your comfort above his.

You two were at a party. Chris was having a great time, laughing and catching up with his friends. You.. not so much. You had a terrible day at work, the lights were too bright, the music was too loud, so many people were bumping into you, your clothes felt itchy on your skin, and you have a terrible headache. All you wanted more than ever right now was to go home, but you couldn't tell Chris that.. he was looking forward to this party all week. So you decided to suck it up and at least pretend that you were having a good time. You were sat in the corner away from everyone else, looking down at your feet praying that no one would come up to you. Chris took notice, he met your gaze silently asking if everything was okay. Even though your eyes said yes, he knew you weren't. He walked up to you and rubbed his hands on your shoulder "hey ma.. you good?" You nodded your head quickly "yeah I just have a small headache but I'm fine! You go have fun" Chris gave you a sympathetic smile "you wanna leave?" You looked up at him, you so desperately wanted to say yes but didn't want him to feel disappointed. "no i'll be fine I promise, plus I know how you were looking forward to this I don't wanna take it away from you" He shook his head, offering you his hand "I'm not having fun if you're not having fun. c'mon lets go home." You shot him a grateful smile, taking his hand as he led you towards the door. "thank you" your voice small, He brought your hand to his lips giving it a gentle kiss "of course."

Bf!Chris who has you model for his brand.

Chris insisted for you to model for him not taking no for an answer. He loves you in his clothes especially his brand. Seeing you pose for his newest drop makes him feel giddy inside. Chris loves showing you off, he can't keep his eyes off of you. Someone from his team is telling him something but the words go in one ear and out the other, all his focus is towards you. How could he focus on anything but you? You looked flawless, you looked so good in fact that no one would believe you if you told them this was your first time modeling. Chris watches you with lit eyes and a huge smile, He truly believes that you are the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth.

Bf!Chris who can always makes you laugh even in the most serious situations.

Your period cramps were bad, your mood swings were going wild, every body in the house knew to keep their distance from you this week. Everyone but your boyfriend. You were laying in bed with a heating pad to your stomach when Chris came into the room and leaped on the bed causing your position to shift. "Chris! can you not?" You snapped at him. He didn't even flinch at the words, instead he turns towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. "Ugh Chris please gimmie some space" You plead struggling against him. The boy started peppering kisses all over your face, at first you were annoyed but soon that annoyance turned into joy. You giggle at every kiss that tickles your face. Satisfied with himself by making you laugh he stopped and stared at you "if I turned into chicken Alfredo would you eat me or would you know it was me?" Chris asked as if this was a life or death question. You looked at him in disbelief and amusement "Chris.. what!?"

Bf!Chris who kisses your tears away.

You and Chris were watching the notebook together. You were bawling your eyes out, snot coming out of your nose and everything. You were truly a mess. Chris on the other hand was fine, the movie was sad yes but it wasn't sad enough for him to cry, honestly he thought you were being a bit dramatic. "Sh-she's gonna f-forget him" You sob, trying to wipe the tears away with a tissue, it's no use the tears keep on coming. Chris laughs at your antics, you notice and swat his arm "Stop laughing at me!" You pout, still crying. He cups your face, his eyes soften and a small smile appears on his lips. He leans down and kisses the tears running down your cheeks away. "you're cute when you cry."

Bf!Chris who always listens to you speak never interrupting you once.

The triplets invited you to do a car video with them. The four of you were having a great time, chatting and laughing. An interesting topic came up and you had a lot to say about it. As you were speaking Chris stared at you intently, not interrupting at all. Matt and Nick were shocked, usually Chris would always try to get his opinions out, not caring if someone was in the middle of saying something or not. But with you he's different, he listens to your every word. A soft smile gracing his face as he watches you talk. He loves hearing your voice, The boy is absolutely in love with you.

Bf!Chris who will never let you be embarrassed alone.

"NO WAY!" You said a bit too loudly, a few people from different tables at the restaurant glanced your way. You slumped back in your seat, embarrassed at your outburst. "YES WAY! I KNOW ITS CRAZY!" Chris matches your energy, noticing the look on your face. The few people who were staring turned back to their own conversations, not paying attention to the two of you anymore. You gave Chris a grateful smiling, silently thanking him. He reached across the table, lacing his hand with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Bf!Chris who loves when you play with his hair.

It was a quiet night, Chris was laying on top of your thighs answering emails on his laptop. You were above him with both your hands on his scalp, gently massaging it. You got a text notification from your phone beside you. One of your hands left his hair to pick up your phone, an instant groan came out of Chris's mouth "nooo put it back" he whined as he reached behind him to try to get to your hand. "just a second geez" You laughed, quickly replying to the text you just received. You put your phone down, your hands going back to their original position on Chris's head making him let out a content sigh.

Bf!Chris who matches his nails with yours.

You both walked out of the nail salon with a fresh new set of nails. You're practically skipping to your car overjoyed that you managed to make your boyfriend agree to match with you. Chris let out a soft laugh, watching you so giddy. If he knew how happy matching nails would make you he would've done it years ago.

Bf!Chris who goes pretends to give you back shots when you bend over.

BEEP BEEP BEEP the oven rang signaling that the cupcakes were ready. You walked over to the kitchen, putting on your oven mitts and opened the oven door, the smell of the sweet treats filling the air. Bending down, you grabbed the cupcake tray from inside the warm oven and were about to place it on the counter when you felt a pair of hands on your hips keeping you in place. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" Chris slightly pushed into you, a scowl appeared across your face. Chris let go, allowing you to take the cupcakes out and placing them on the island. "Chris! You could've made me fall! My face would've burned off!" Chris scoffed at your dramatics "Sorry miss lady you just looked too good!" Chris protested his gaze now averted towards the cupcakes "ooh can I help you frost them? please?" You rolled your eyes unamused, handing him a piping bag which he excitedly took from your hands.

NSFW

Bf!Chris who always talks you through sex

"You're doin' so good f'me" Chris says from above you, his hips thrusting into you. One hand is on your waist, the other is pining your wrists above your head making sure you wont escape. "you're so pretty ma." Your moans and his words collide, his thrusts move even faster hearing the sweet sounds that escape your lips. "I love it when.. fuck- when you make those pretty sounds ma." "m'close.." your back arches as the familiar knot builds in your stomach "yeah? is my pretty girl gonna cum?" You could only respond with a whine. "please Chris.. c-can't hold it." Chris smirks down at you loving the way you melt at his touch. "Go on baby, make a mess on my cock f'me." A ring of white coated his dick, Chris looks down groaning at the sight his own release following after. He leans down, his lips attaching onto yours. "you're so pretty.. the prettiest girl ever"

Bf!Chris who tries to be soft and gentle but always ends up being rough near the end.

"Wait Chris sl-slow down" Your face was squished against a pillow with your ass in the air. At first his thrusts were slow and gentle but he couldn't hold it in anymore, Chris's hands gripped onto your hips leaving behind purple bruises and his thrusts gained speed. "s-sorry so so sorry" He apologized not slowing down "you're just so fuckin' pretty.. can't help It around you ma"

Bf!Chris who loves your tits, always staring, touching, sucking etc!

Chris's hands were kneading your breasts as you rode him. The sight of your tits bouncing on top of him made him go wild. His mouth latched on to one of your nipples, his thumb and pointer finger pinching the other. Your eyes rolled back at the immense pleasure that was being brought to you, your jaw went slack. "look at you.. that feel good ma?" Chris mumbled into your tits. The harder that Chris sucked the closer you felt, your mind was going numb. Your bounces growing slower and weak. Chris took notice, his fingers sliding down to your clit rubbing it with speed and pressure. All of your limbs gave out. You gripped the headboard of the bed for support, your tits dangling in front of your boyfriends face. He didn't mind at all, in fact he was basking in the wonderful view above him.

Bf!Chris who eats you out like there's no tomorrow.

Your moans echoed throughout the room, Chris's head between your thighs lapping his tongue around your dripping cunt. You were beyond overstimulated, your whole body shaking after reaching its 4th orgasm. "Chris pl-ease n-no more" You mewled, Your fingers tugged at his hair trying to pull him off you. Chris moans at your actions, tightening his grip on your thighs. His voice sends vibrations all around your body. "you taste so good ma.. s'all f'me.. all mine" he coos continuing to devour you like your his last meal.

Bf!Chris who makes sure to shower you with affection after sex, making sure you know that you are loved and cared for.

There was a comforting silence in the room, the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of your soft pants. Chris shuffled beside you, his eyes watched your fucked out expression. He watched as your bare chest moved up and down with your breaths, he couldn't help but think how pretty you looked like this. He could stare at you forever if you'd let him. He reached for the drawer by his bed and got out a small cloth, his hands gripped the fabric and moved above you. He gently wiped your sensitive cunt, making sure every drop was cleaned up. The rag made contact with your clit, your thighs quickly shut around his hand, eliciting a whine from you. "shh its okay I know, it'll be quick I promise." Once he was done he laid back down next to you, his arms wrapped around your lower stomach bringing you closer to him. "you're so beautiful" "I love you so much" "I wanna marry you one day" Chris whispered sweet nothings into your ear, watching you slowly drift to sleep. His head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent never wanting this feeling to end.

[mrpenguinpants]

Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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[myeagleexpert]

Yan!Batfamily x Singer!YN (neglected)

Inspired by @@gotham-daydreams's fic, your work is wonderful and makes me think about many things…. One of the things I think about is if they found Reader from her music…. Reader here is heavily inspired by Naomi Jon, she is an independent singer from Germany, she regularly makes videos on youtube about makeup, shopping on websites, tiktok foods, things like that. She is a very fun person to watch and I highly recommend you watch it, all her videos are in English. (one detail is that she doesn’t talk much about her family, and lives with her friend Vincent and boyyy every time I read about Reader from Not [ ] fics I remember her. If you disagree, that’s okay, I still like the idea of ​​YN’s glow up <3) “Have you seen, come and read my diary Then you will see, that you don’t mean shit to me” – MANTRA- Naomi Jon

I imagine that while shopping at a store, Steph liked the store’s playlist and went to look for who was singing it.

Imagine her face when she finds out that the person she was listening to… was the YN everyone was looking for. She immediately discovers her YouTube channel, social media… and everyone immediately starts binge-watching and stalking all of her videos

Dick would be the type of person who would learn the choreography for your music videos, just to dance with you. He swears he can be the fun older brother you need, he can be in your videos too! And cook! I don't think he wears makeup, but he would watch all your makeup videos because he likes your reviews, and when you make a joke or mix up the language in the video he finds it so funny that he can't help but laugh. He wants to test out the latest skincare products with you and wants to travel together! You look so different now, with bold eyeliner and colorful hair, Dick wonders if you've always been like this and he was just blind because he didn't see it. Come on, he didn't know you had this fun and easygoing side, let's spend more time together, okay?

“This dress deserves… THE BUSINESS WALK!”

Jason sees how you've grown, and how much better you are away from Gotham. Like a flower that blooms only when it's in a clean and suitable environment, you've brilliantly transformed into who you are. But a part of him, the biggest part, thinks you'd be much safer around your family, where they can protect you. You sing and post so many videos on the internet, what if someone comes after you? Let your brother stay close, okay? And who is this friend who lives with you anyway? He is not trustworthy - no. It doesn't matter if you've known him since you were kids and have lived together for a long time. Another thing I bet he would do is join you on the days when you dye your hair in the craziest ways possible, he has some experience with dye, you know?

“C’mon FriendReader, this is the plan for this hair dyeing technique. Yes, all seven colors are here!”

For those who neglected Reader and pretended you didn't exist, he is your #01 Fan now. Tim definitely listens to ALL your music, and is 100% connected to your social networks. He watches and rewatches all your videos, they are so interactive and relaxed that he has the illusion that he is living it all with you. He's the type of person who eats while watching your videos, and watches them before bed, and when he's having a particularly stressful situation he'll lock himself in his room and watch one of your vlogs, because your voice has such a calming effect of normality that for him, it's like at any moment you'll open his door asking to try a 2-ingredient recipe you saw on TikTok.

“Timothyyy~ try this recipe I saw on tik tok!”

Damian is an interesting case… because he discovered that his precious blood brother has a side to him that he never saw. When he walked into your room and looked at all your memories, all your pictures of your achievements, all your music sketches he KNEW you were talented, but when he saw you in action in your videos and shows it was like a cartoon character came to life. YOU came to life! Definitely buy all your merch, and talk about you all the time to John. Do you still have two cats?? Enough, the kidnapping is you and them two.

“My next show will be…”

Bruce goes back and rereads your journal drafts and realizes how much your music has really changed, your focus now being only on your fans and not your family. Like everyone else in the family, he watches your videos daily and keeps thinking “I could give her a bigger box of surprises so she can record a video” “Did she think that dress was pretty? I could buy her a better one, shinier and pinker, just like she wanted.” When you post a video of the backstage of a show and all your lively preparations, he can’t help but feel guilty for the thousandth time that day. He should be by your side right now, a father should be behind the scenes giving you comfort and strength to go on the show. He should be in the front row cheering when you realized your dream of going on stage for the first time. The whole family should… You’re trying so hard, your dedication is palpable in your videos and shows. The little girl grew up and became a dreamy woman, but who do you run to when you need to cry? Let him be your comforting shoulder now, let him come into your life again.

“I made this song especially for you, my fans!”

When Alfred put that video of YN’s childhood on TV, where she performed in a school play, to remind everyone of her absence, he couldn’t be more proud of his work when weeks later he hears her voice coming from one of the boys’ rooms. It's you singing one of the songs, the batboy repeating it for the tenth time. Your voice has changed, from a childish and angelic voice to a woman's, your looks have gradually gained confidence and personality, but your “presence” in the mansion is ghostly. He feels so happy for you, you are externalizing to the world what he has always seen: that you are incredible. Alfred doesn't need to marathon your videos to feel closer to you, he already has affectionate memories, he already has albums from when you were a baby and tested recipes with him, he already has videos of you training to sing when you were little… But he still watches your videos because unfortunately, even with him you lost contact. He watches the videos like a grandfather watches his grandson's stories “Oh? Are you in Tokyo now? How wonderful, dear, remember the coat.” “Oh dear YN, I don't think this recipe will be good for you…” “Yn, be careful with the scams on these strange websites!”

“Guys, I know what you’re thinking… BUT maybe combining onion and chocolate CAN work.”