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feeder86 · 2 days ago

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Bossed

Ben huffed as he slouched in his desk chair, gazing at the computer screen. The numbers hadn’t changed but there may still have been some elusive way in which he could process them in order to make the sales figures look less dire than they actually were. He just needed to find it; otherwise, his neck could be on the line. The downward trend had been a worrying phenomenon ever since he’d joined the company almost 12 months ago, and he hadn’t been in the least bit surprised when their boss, Elise, lost her job over it all last week.

Reaching for one of the doughnuts from the box he’d picked up from the store across the street, Ben mulled over the problem, sucking his fingers and thumbs before reaching in for a second.

“Okay, listen up people!” came the call of Rob, the overly perky middle manager, making his usual trip to their office space as the day was drawing to a close. “I want to introduce you to someone,” he announced, motioning towards the tall, strapping older man in his late thirties. “This is Elijah. He’s the company’s new hire and we’re super lucky to have him,” he gushed; sucking up in his trademark style. “He’s taking over from Elise and has lots of incredible ideas about how he’s going to turn things around here!” He began retreating, already starting a round of applause that he expected everyone else to join in with.

With a decent amount of conformists now standing, Elijah stepped forwards and smiled with false modesty. “Thank you,” he nodded, quietly shushing them by gently motioning his hands for them to stop clapping. “I’m very excited to be here,” he began, revealing a slight Germanic accent that made him appear ever so slightly harsher. His body was strong and athletic, not a hair out of place; carrying himself with power and composure. “From what I have seen here today, there are clearly the building blocks of a potentially very strong team.”

Ben listened in, reaching for another doughnut. Sure, Elijah looked the part, but how long could he really survive on this sinking ship?

“Excuse me?” Elijah called out, looking directly at Ben. “Are you just going to sit there eating your doughnuts whilst your new boss addresses you for the first time?” he asked patronisingly, looking around at the others as if in disbelief at Ben’s rudeness.

Ben froze in shock as everyone turned to look at him, still in his desk chair with a half eaten doughnut clutched in his hand.

“Put it down,” Elias nodded at the doughnut, as if Ben was the rudest person he had ever met. “Manners cost nothing!”

Ben did as he was told, rising to his feet like everyone else and brushing the sugar off his chest. He suddenly had the feeling that he was back in school all over again.

Elijah’s warm greeting appeared to have been abandoned and he huffed as if he had suddenly been put in the foulest of moods. “This is exactly the sort of thing I dislike. You all have to realise that how you conduct yourselves in the office has a huge impact. We’re going to have clients coming in and out of here all day long.” Still his eyes were fixed on Ben. “What age are you, boy?” he asked directly.

Ben stuttered a little, feeling a bead of sweat running down his back. “I’m twenty three, sir,” he replied.

Elijah shook his head as if he was disgusted. “Twenty three and you were just slouching there in your desk chair eating an entire box of doughnuts whilst your boss was in the room talking to you. You think that’s appropriate?”

“No, sir,” Ben shot back, feeling that he could be fired at any second.

“So you’ve put on a little weight over the holidays?” the man taunted next, not pausing for Ben to respond. “You know how I can tell? That shirt of yours is too tight around your stomach. Do you think the rest of us want to see that?” he asked.

“No, sir!” Ben stated at once, swallowing hard. He knew he was up ten pounds or so since the start of December, but he hadn’t seen the point in buying larger shirts when, in all likelihood, he’d naturally drop most of it within a few weeks.

“Is this the type of look we want our clients to associate us with?” Elijah asked the staff collectively, motioning from afar towards Ben’s chubby form squeezed into an ill-fitting shirt.

“No,” they all replied, shaking their heads as if each once was keen not to be placed in the firing line next.

Ben could feel the blood pumping to his face. He’d been as skinny as a rake when he started college at eighteen, but he’d gradually thickened up from that tall, slender drainpipe-like boy of 145lbs, to the altogether softer look he had developed now at 190lbs. He’d started to get a little paunch by his second year, spurred on by the cheap, processed foods that made up the majority of his diet. He’d always imagined himself losing it eventually, but the right time had just never seemed to materialise. He’d packed on an extra inch around his waist every year since then, with even his nipples starting to grow softer and more pointed in the last six months.

Elijah stared at him hard. Ben remembered thinking that this could go either way and, in that moment, he imagined himself carrying a cardboard box of his things out of the office for the last time should Elijah choose to make an example of him there and then. What better way to begin a new regime than firing someone within the first few minutes?

“I want you in a shirt that actually fits tomorrow,” Elijah finally told him, taking a quick glance at the rest of him. “Pants too,” he nodded.

“Yes, sir!” Ben nodded gratefully, straightening up and sucking his stomach in; sighing with relief as Elijah at last moved on to continue his speech.

Ben grumbled to himself as he saw the money debited from his account for the new work clothes he had been forced to purchase earlier that month. It had been a hard slog to pay day now that Elijah was in charge. Ben felt as though he was constantly under the microscope with Elijah installing software that allowed him to see what was on his screen at all times.

“I want it put over there,” Elijah instructed the maintenance guys as he pointed to the vending machine that had always been behind Ben’s desk. With a headset on, the man probably assumed that Ben couldn’t hear him as he chuckled and told them that he needed to get it away from ‘that chubby one.’

Inwardly, Ben shouted expletives at the top of his voice, despite knowing better than to react. Six people had already left or been fired so far; even Rob, the master at sucking up to the bosses, had been given his marching orders. In their places, new recruits, more suited to Elijah’s style of management, began to trickle in. The familiar atmosphere had changed. That warm family-like environment had been ripped away. It was unnerving and stressful. Even the vending machine's new location, despite being further away, meant that it was now directly in Ben’s eyeline, making him obsess even more than usual for a quick sugar hit when things were getting tough.

At only 190lbs, Ben was far from being the chubbiest guy who worked there. However, it was the fact that his soft physique was combined with such a youthful age that Elijah seemed to find so intolerable. “I was starting my first business at twenty three,” he’d lectured Ben one afternoon after seeing him returning from a fast food place. “I wasn’t sitting around, stuffing my face with all this rubbish!”

Ben listened, hating every single thing about his new boss. Despite the initial boost Elijah’s harsh criticisms had given him to set up a gym subscription, Ben had actually found his energy completely drained after a day at work. The gym was only across the street, yet it was also where Elijah himself often frequented. Whilst there, Ben could sense the man’s eyes upon him as he sniggered with similarly muscular friends in a way that Ben couldn’t help feeling was directed at him. After only three sessions, he stopped going entirely. His work role had changed under the new system, with Ben practically chained to his desk chair from the moment he arrived at 8.55am each morning. Just like the fifteen pounds he’d gained during his final college exams, Ben’s old stress eating habits were coming back to bite him. He knew he’d put on more weight and, even worse, his boss knew it as well. Ben had tried to confide his frustrations about Elijah’s comments to his cousin who lived close by, however she merely brushed them aside, agreeing entirely with the anecdotes of Elijah’s observations and simply stating that ‘the truth hurts sometimes’.

Often, Ben’s dislike of his boss would manifest in the most peculiar and even counter-productive ways. Only last week he had seen a giant celebration cake on sale and he had gorged upon it all that very night, taking satisfaction in imagining how disgusted Elijah would be. “Fuck him!” Ben had shouted aloud, unbuckling the top button of his pants as he sipped on some chocolate milk to fully round off the experience.

Ben had never had a double chin before. However, it was becoming more and more apparent each time he shaved that the entire shape of his face had begun altering. He’d recently taken a picture of his body for someone he had been flirting with on an app, immediately getting blocked straight afterwards. He couldn’t blame them. He looked awkward and dumpy with his fat stomach popping out. Perhaps it didn’t help that most of his friends here in the city were so large and overweight; enjoying video games and the occasional board game nights, rather than anything active. Instead of focusing on his habits, Ben decided that it was actually his job that was contributing most to his expanding waistline. As such, he began to seriously look for a role in another company. He applied, finding he was rejected time and time again due to what he suspected was a very mediocre reference from Elijah.

With the annual charity fundraiser in December, Ben’s workload increased even more dramatically than the year before. There were so many elements to it and red tape to get through. He knew he would be stuck at the office for at least a couple of hours after everyone else. If only Elijah had left at the same time, Ben felt like everything could have run a lot smoother. He’d had a plan in his head for some time, knowing that he could corrupt the software on Elijah’s computer to disrupt the man’s ability to simply pop up on his screen like he regularly enjoyed doing. If Ben was successful, he’d be a hero amongst the staff by the time morning came around again.

Just before half six, the detestable man finally headed out, dressed and prepared for his usual workout at the gym across the street. He made a snarky comment about the carb-loaded snacks Ben had bought for himself as he continued trying to catch up. Some things never changed.

“This is just between you and me,” Ben winked at Mary who was pottering around cleaning up the office space.

Mary grinned back at him, having listened to many woes about Elijah’s management style from the others who had stayed late or quit over the last year. “I know nothing!” she laughed, fully prepared to close her eyes and ears to everything that was about to take place.

The system login on Elijah’s computer was easily overcome. The boss had boasted to Ben weeks earlier that he used the remarkable time from his last marathon run as his password; a time that he had repeated to Ben over and over again as he saw him popping backwards and forwards to the vending machine.

And just like that, Ben was in. Elijah’s whole computer opened up to him like a picture book. In fact, it hadn’t even been shut down correctly. There were so many pages and tabs open all at once. But, what was that? Ben had to go back, caught by the most striking image.

“Everything okay, dear?” asked Mary, popping her head inside the office.

“YES! Fine!” Ben exclaimed, eyes wide and startled. He couldn’t begin to explain what he had just seen, even if he had tried.

A couple of weeks later, Ben was enjoying that blissful period between Christmas and New Year when he didn’t have to think in the slightest about work. He sat around a table with his housemates, Gray and Eddie, alongside their friend Joe; all equally as nerdy as each other, engrossed in a complex board game, surrounded by the tastiest sweet and savory snacks.

“Did you guys know that there are some folks who are really into larger guys?” Ben asked the three others; all of them significantly larger and heavier than himself.

“Of course there are,” chuckled Gray, looking at Ben like he was simple.

“No…” Ben clarified, trying to rephrase what he was saying. “I mean… did you know that there are some people who really get off to the whole weight gain thing; seeing someone going from slim to really, really fat?”

“Oh, like a feeder, you mean?” Eddie asked him. “Yeah, I’ve had a few girls approach me on dating apps who were into that,” he nodded knowledgeably.

“And me,” Joe agreed. “They get off on wanting to feed you.”

Ben looked at the pair of them, both large and round, weighing no less than 350 lbs each. “And what did you say to them?”

“Depends on how hot they are,” Gray shrugged, chuckling as both Joe and Eddie fully agreed with him. “Why? Have you come across one?” he asked curiously. “You’ve definitely packed on a good few pounds this year,” he chuckled, looking daringly at the others, like he had just said something they had all wanted to mention for weeks.

“You’re getting tits like mine,” Gray laughed, reaching his hand out to poke the softer chest.

“Shut up!” Ben laughed back, snapping away the hands that reached out to him. “I’m not that…” he began, before deciding to refocus the conversation. “It’s just this guy in work,” he began. “He’s vile. I thought he found my weight completely repulsive but… now I think he could actually be into it. Not me, specifically,” he clarified. “But, bigger guys in general.”

“Your first chubby chaser!” laughed Gray, throwing back his beer.

“Yeah,” chuckled Joe, seeming genuinely pleased for Ben. “Chasers are pretty rare!”

Ben shook his head. They’d all seriously misunderstood the point he was trying to make. However, he was at least pleased that he had some friends with some experience in this area. He’d felt like he was going insane for a couple of days after he had seen the pictures of the enormously obese guys on Elijah’s computer screen. Some of them would make even Gray look slender. Then he’d gasped in surprise as he’d read the kinky chat log his boss had been having as he encouraged an already very obese guy from another state to stuff himself with the pizzas; pizzas that Elijah had apparently ordered online and sent over himself. “Like I said…” he mumbled to the other guys. “I hate the guy’s guts. I’d never go there with him. It’s just… interesting.”

Discovering Elijah’s kinky preferences could not have come at a worse time for Ben. The revelation had sent him into a period of complete thoughtlessness about his eating as he was utterly determined to enjoy himself over the holidays with his large housemates. More dessert? Why not? Another beer? Sure! Ben looked at himself in the mirror, having stepped on the scales to discover that he had gained no less than twenty pounds in a single month. He hadn’t even known that such a gain was even possible. However, it was all there, clearly visible on his 260lb body: the advanced swathe of belly fat that had rounded out into a pot belly, with nipples sagging and resting above. His love handles felt intrusive as they pushed out from the sides and gis glutes and thighs appeared as if they had been pumped with blubber. Even at 6’2, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was a fat guy now. His jawline was non-existent and his double chin had been commented on by several family members on Christmas Day itself. The work pants were tight; far too tight. His shirt clung unflatteringly around his stomach, straining the buttons like it wanted to highlight to everyone just how much more of a gut he had on him this year; the collar almost choking him.

Ben huffed as he further investigated his reflection in the mirror; that shocking side profile with his protrusive stomach and widened rear, exaggerated even more by the tightness of the fabric. His tie would need to be extra long today to try and mask the straining of the buttons. He was turning into a fat fucking monster, he thought, grumbling to himself as he rubbed the arching shape of his stomach.

All he needed to do was make it through to lunchtime, Ben thought, parking his butt down on his desk chair. Then he could head out and buy a shirt that could help him blend in better, and some pants that didn’t make him panic each time he took a longer stride.

“Is Annie in today?” Ben asked aloud to his colleagues as he saw the empty chair.

“We just assumed that you’d eaten her,” came Elijah’s sarcastic tone, suddenly springing up from nowhere and walking across the room towards the main office.

A rolling chuckle sounded around the office, like the boss had just said exactly what they were all thinking. So, everyone had noticed his extra weight then? And he’d been trying so hard to suck it all in as well. He rolled his eyes, knowing that there was so much he could say about Elijah to embarrass him in return. He wondered what everyone would think if he told them all about the things he’d found on Elijah’s computer. Perhaps he would have told them all already, but for the email threatening immediate dismissal to the unknown culprit the day after Ben’s devious computer hack, once the sabotage had been discovered.

Sitting at his desk, Ben's stomach was rumbling and growling. For two whole weeks he had been eating and drinking whatever and whenever he wanted. Now, forced back into the mundane, lunchtime couldn’t come fast enough. Given that he’d fooled no one with his techniques to try and mask the extra pounds, Ben treated himself to one of the giant burritos from the place down the street. His shirt buttons straining, he could see the glances he was getting. Perhaps he should have been more embarrassed, but his mind was still whirring, wondering how many other people were actually secretly into this fat bellied look. Was that person staring because they thought he was gross? Or was it because they wanted to rip his shirt off and see the glorious gut that was under construction? He gasped in realisation as he thought about his Uncle Leon and Aunt Pam over in Detroit. Uncle Leon had been so lean and muscular when he’d got married, yet he’d rapidly packed on an incredible amount of fat in the following years. So much so that he’d had to give up his job in construction and skinny Aunt Pam had been working two jobs for years in order to support them both. So why was it that everyone in the family still hated Aunt Pam? They all knew about this sort of stuff, didn’t they? They knew that Aunt Pam liked him larger and had most likely enabled him to his easily 500lb state. There were others too: his friend Tom from school, with his giant mother and slender father who was always constantly bringing treats home for his wife. What about Bob and Helen in his old neighborhoo? Bob was the only super obese guy in town to be dating a former beauty queen, ten years younger than him.

Ben’s burrito was gone in a flash as he chewed and mulled over everything. His sweet tooth was driving him crazy and he popped next door to the doughnut place to pick up some treats as well as a large bottle of soda to take back into the office with him. It was only when he made it back to his desk that he’d remembered his intention to pick up a new shirt. He shrugged, noting that there were only four hours left until the end of the day anyway.

“Listen up, people!” Elijah called out. He looked at Ben, frowning at the little stain of burrito filling that had landed on his shirt over the lunch period. “How did you miss that giant mouth of yours?” he grumbled, clearly unimpressed by Ben's unprofessional presentation. “You’ve clearly had plenty of practice getting stuff in there.”

Again, there was a little rolling chuckle amongst the staff. Every month there were more and more new faces as Elijah gradually replaced the old staff with people who were more suited to him.

“Annie’s handed in her notice and won’t be returning,” the boss explained calmly, despite the immediate groans of frustration from everyone else. “I know it’s tough when this happens, but we’re all going to have to pick up the slack. Especially you, Ben,” he nodded. “You’re the only one who’s dealt with her contacts before she left. They're going to be some late nights for the next three weeks until we can hire someone to replace her.”

Ben looked around at everyone else. Was he really the only one who could deal with Annie’s clients? Why did this have to fall to him?

“It’s time to prove yourself,” Elijah nodded. “I know you’re desperate to get to the gym this evening, but that’ll have to wait,” he teased, unable to resist having another joke at Ben’s expense.

Ben rolled his eyes. It wasn’t fair. Still, the overtime would come in handy if he was going to take a vacation that summer, he thought to himself, always keen for a silver lining. He just hoped that Elijah wouldn’t be working later each night as well.

“So, how come I haven’t received an application from you for Annie’s position?” Elijah asked a few weeks later, popping back to the office late to send a few more emails. Dressed in his workout gear, Ben could never help himself from admiring the dedication it must have taken for the guy to build such large, strong arms. The tight compression shirt displayed the fullness of his pecs, lacking even an ounce of fat around his waist and allowing the stomach muscles to really pop out.

Ben shrugged at his boss’ question. “Because I’m not really qualified for it,” he answered simply.

“And yet, you’ve been doing the job, as well as your own, since the start of January,” Elijah shot back.

“That’s only because you reject every application that’s been sent in for the role.”

“Well, maybe I’m holding out for the right person,” Elijah smiled, almost flirtatiously. He looked around at the take out boxes on Ben’s table. Although Ben described his workload as ‘stressful’ at the moment, in reality, it was simply just time consuming. So what if he treated himself to something tasty as he sat at his desk each evening? And what did it matter if all he wanted to do in his sparse downtime was sit on his butt and play video games? Even so, to an image conscious Elijah, the sight of it all still seemed to cause him much amusement. “Apply for the job,” he stated candidly, starting to tidy up Ben’s take out containers and give him more room on his desk without a single snarky comment. “I think you may be pleasantly surprised.”

Ben did as he was told, reasoning that a position, such as Annie's old job, could actually launch him on a proper career. Whilst he was earning a good amount of overtime at the moment, the added income each month could help him save for his own place. With Elijah’s admission that he was happy to promote him, Ben suddenly felt like he had at last entered the guy’s inner circle of those deemed ‘worthy’. Under Elijah, status was granted not by job title, but by how much favor you carried with the boss.

It was exactly the reason why Carol stood beaming beside her new desk chair the following week. “Elijah ordered it for me because of all the back problems I’ve been having,” she boasted, knowing that there were few others that their boss would willingly blow company funds on like this.

Starved of any other entertainment, one by one, the others in their office space lined up to have a go at sitting in the smart, innovative desk chair, until Ben was the only one still sitting disinterestedly at his own desk. He huffed, knowing that it would be the polite thing to at least try the chair and complement Carol on her good fortune. He lined up his rear, surprised that everyone in the office still seemed so interested. He’d known instantly that he was in trouble, given how tightly the firm arms of the chair had brushed against his hips as he carelessly dropped his entire body weight into it. He could tell by how tightly his love handles were pressed against the sides that he was thoroughly wedged into it.

“It’s nice,” Ben mumbled, trying not to show his surprise at how far back the chair had tipped now his weight was inside it. He turned and swivelled himself, hoping that the performance may be enough to satisfy everyone, shifting their attention to other things before he had to try and climb out of the damn thing.

However, that was all before Elijah came out, resting his large hands on his strong hips and gazing down at Ben with a bemused expression; a quiet grinning as if he sensed the whirring panic in Ben’s brain as he tried to think about how to get out. “Ben, could I see you for a second?” he called out whilst everyone was still looking.

“Sure,” Ben nodded.”I’ll be there in a second,” he replied casually, already suspecting that Eliah’s timing was anything but coincidental.

“No,” Elijah shot back sternly, folding his arms. “I need to see you right now,” he beamed, perching himself on a desk as if ready for a show.

Ben knew he’d have to get himself out as quickly and undramatically as possible. He placed the palms of his hands on the end of the armrests, shifting his body weight as straight as possible. He shuffled his feet, giving himself as wide a stance as he could, then paused for a moment, summoning all the energy needed to haul his body upwards. Three… two… one…

To everyone else in the room, all they heard was a loud, unattractive and unintentional grunt coming from Ben. They saw the fat boy straining to lift himself upwards, held back by the obvious wedging of his rear against the sides. Led by their boss, the laughter from those around him was almost instantaneous. Someone came closer to try and help, although Elijah quickly told them to retreat, too busy enjoying the spectacle himself.

His face pumped with blood, Ben lowered himself again, bouncing back up with even greater force. This time, the entire chair came up with him, despite still being stuck around his wider rear. He wriggled his hips and tried to push the chair back. Finally, he could feel some progress, if all far too slowly. His legs were burning, holding himself up in this strange half bent position.

At last, the chair slipped away, clattering to the floor and tipping over onto its side. Carol immediately picked it back up, checking it over for damage as she frowned in annoyance. Ben tucked his shirt back in tidily and straightened his tie, trying his best to ignore the ongoing laughter. He stepped over to Eliah. “Are we going into your office?” he asked, trying to ignore them all.

Eliah continued laughing. “No, buddy. I was just fucking with you,” he replied, as if Ben had been the dumbest person alive to have believed his false urgency to see him in the first place. “Just get that report to me by six,” he stated, turning and walking back, despite his ongoing laughter.

Sitting back down at his own desk, Ben grumbled to himself. What the hell was he doing putting up with this shit? He should just quit and find a job where he wasn’t treated like this just because he was obese. He looked up and saw Elijah still laughing in his office. That was the moment the revelation struck him. Perhaps Carol’s new chair had never been about correcting her posture. Perhaps it had always been intended as a trap for Ben. Had Ben just played perfectly into his boss’ hands?

Back at home, Gray was dating a new girl, shifting the dynamic in the share-house considerably. Ben and Eddie’s jaws had dropped when they’d seen her; Marie, the stunning blonde girl with such a tight waist and big chest. The pairing with Gray couldn’t have been any more mismatched. Likewise, Eddie’s jealousy couldn’t have been more obvious, biting back at Gray whenever he tried to impart some dating advice on him so that he could one day be as blissfully happy as he was.

“Why does Gray suddenly believe he’s the universe’s gift to women?” Eddie grumbled. “It’s not like Marie is going to stick with a guy like him for long.”

Ben mumbled awkwardly. “I’m not so sure, y’know. She seems pretty serious about him. I heard them discussing pretty much everything: houses, marriage… the lot.”

Eddie huffed. “It’s just not fair, is it?” he complained. “Gray gets to live out his perfect life, whilst fatties like us remain permanently single.”

Ben bit his tongue, resisting the urge to call out Eddie for lumping him in the same category as him. Sure, he’d put on a lot of weight, but he wasn’t in the same league as Eddie, Gray, or even Joe. Yes, he had quite a gut on him now. And, yeah, maybe his chest was pretty flabby since he’d crossed three hundred pounds. But, he still was still pretty skinny compared to the others. Wasn’t he? The more Ben looked at himself in the mirror and assessed the situation, the less he seemed to believe in the differences between his own shape and that of the other guys. His problem had become his sheer width. As much as his stomach appeared to be pushing firmly outwards in one direction, his chunky butt seemed to be swelling outwards in the opposite direction. There was so much fat resting around his neck; his jawline completely swallowed. The cheeks of his face had puffed and broadened to such an extent that he actually found it hard to see his old self hidden underneath it all.

Whilst the promotion at work had granted him many benefits, Ben found the guaranteed extra income made his impulses harder to contain. Take out could arrive at ten in the evening; those premium doughnuts were hardly going to make a dent on his bank balance. But with so many bad habits ingrained in him now, Ben struggled to imagine anyone willing to put up with him in a romantic relationship. He didn’t really want to be active and go out an awful lot. The warmer late Spring days brought him annoyance and impatience as he sweated lethargically in his new office. Although he knew he shouldn’t, he kept a drawer full of candy and snacks, failing every single attempt of his to eat more healthily in the last two years. What difference was there between his own lifestyle and that of Joe or Eddie? Maybe this was something he wouldn’t ever be able to stop, even if he tried.

Being higher up the food chain at work gave Ben a new perspective on how well Elijah had turned the company around in under two years. From losing money each week, to acquiring multi million dollar contracts on a monthly basis, Elijah’s record was as perfect as could be. However, despite his success, there was always something about the guy that meant Ben couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Perhaps it was the fact that work seemed to consume so much of his life. Being a workaholic was fine if the person enjoyed it but, at times, it didn’t always seem like Elijah did.

“Don’t tell anyone this,” Elijah confided in Ben one evening after everyone else had left. “I’ve been offered a job elsewhere,” he whispered, as if, even now, he had to keep it under wraps. He wouldn’t say where, nor give away much more information other than the fact that the pay increase was to be life-changing.

“But, what would we do without you here?” Ben asked. He’d disliked Elijah as a boss for so much of his time here that he’d never actually considered how awful it would be trying to manage things without him.

“I imagine they’d give the role to Keira,” Elijah pondered.

“Oh, not Keira!” Ben groaned, already picturing the disordered chaos that would inevitably ensue.

“Or, you could come with me?” Elijah suggested next. “I could easily get you on-board. I couldn’t guarantee you the salary you have now; at least, not right away. But, once you’re in, there are so many more opportunities for you there.”

“You want to take me with you?” Ben asked, dumbfounded by the idea that Elijah would want such a thing.

“Of course. You’re the best we’ve got here!” Elijah beamed.

Ben frowned, knowing that not to be true in the slightest. The whole thing didn’t make any sense. Had he secretly been Elijah’s favorite this entire time?

As negotiation between Elijah and his potential new company got more intense, the man seemed to become more intent on getting Ben to make a decision about coming with him. In some ways, the pressure felt unfair and it almost seemed to Ben as if Elijah was quite prepared to turn down the offer were he to refuse to move with him.

“You seem a bit distracted,” Gray nodded to Ben as the pair of them stacked a few boxes ready for Gray’s moving out day tomorrow. With Gray and Marie moving in together, Joe was soon to take the room, saving them all from having to advertise the space. Helping Gray pack up had been a good distraction for Ben, as well as quite lucrative, inheriting plenty of clothes items from the back of Gray’s closet that the guy had outgrown months before. “Is everything okay at work?” Gray probed further, having always been the most intuitive of all the larger guys Ben lived with.

Ben sighed, explaining the entire situation.

“You know, Marie used to come into my workplace pretty much every day,” Gray began afterwards. “She’d make excuse after excuse for her being there but, in the end, it was me who had to ask her out.”

“What’s this got to do with anything?” Ben asked, chuckling at the sudden change of subject.

“What I mean is…” Gray sighed, rolling his eyes. “I remember what you told us about your boss. Sometimes, chasers are no different to the rest of us. Sometimes everyone needs a little help asking for what they really want.”

All at once, Ben knew exactly what he needed to do. He felt confident as he strode into Elijah’s office the next day. The blinds had been drawn and Elijah pulled him in as if he wanted to discuss a top secret bank heist that must not be overheard. “Well, what’s your decision?” he asked, as if every second counted.

Sighing, Ben took a seat, looking up at the handsome guy earnestly. “I’m staying here,” he explained simply, cutting Elijah off the moment the man burst into his sales pitch, trying to convince him once more. “Listen, you don’t need me!” he smiled. “You’re going to be awesome.”

“But you’re the best I’ve got!” Elijah countered.

“I’m average at best!” Ben laughed. !And you know it!” He could see Elijah trying to redouble his efforts to counter his remark, yet he continued, talking over Elijah as he began to speak. “I’m just a chubby, overfed, under-exercised, nerdy accountant. And… I think I’m also the guy you’ve secretly had a crush on for quite some time…”

Elijah immediately halted trying to speak over him. The man’s eyes widened. He started mumbling, immediately flustered. “I… I’m…” he tried, looking like he had been outmanoeuvred for the first time in his life. “How did you know?” he finally asked.

“I didn’t,” Ben laughed. “That was the problem. I just thought you were being an asshole most of the time! You’re actually not that good when it comes to approaching people you’re genuinely attracted to, are you?”

Elijah shook his head.

“If I came with you, you’d still be my boss and we could never explore whatever this could be between us,” Ben reasoned. “Whereas, if you hand in your notice today… Well, you and I could be out for dinner this evening, with no nasty fallout from HR.”

With a beaming smile, Elijah was soon announcing his departure to the entire office. Ben was sitting, slouched in his own office, picking at a couple of doughnuts and not really paying attention to what was going on outside. He was hardly going to go out there, pretending to be surprised. Besides, it was fairly common knowledge that he didn’t even really like Elijah, which made it even more bizarre when he was sitting across from the man at a very fancy restaurant only a few short hours later. It was so obvious when someone really was making an effort on a date; Elijah received top marks for his charming manner and attentiveness. He thoroughly deserved the kiss he was granted during the cab ride back to his place.

“You’ll know he’s definitely a chaser when you get to kiss him for the first time,” Gray had warned him. “If he’s anything like Marie, his hands will go straight to your belly!”

Ben had found the idea strangely arousing when Gray had said that. However, it was nothing compared to how horny he felt with Elijah’s hands exploring his body with a lust Ben had never before experienced. Arousal leached from every pore of the guy’s body and, when they went inside Elijah’s apartment, Ben felt like he was almost being worshipped. Even so, nothing was ever rushed. The build up was always perfect; the crescendo, always sublime. Despite the stunning physique of Elijah, it always felt as though it was Ben’s rounded, bloated form that was the star attraction. After a couple of weeks, Elijah was permitted to fuck him properly for the first time. Each thrust into Ben’s hefty rear seemed to give the man absolute pleasure. Nothing was ever done hastily, even as Elijah moaned softly and breathed steadily, as if trying to hold back an orgasm that he could summon at any moment.

Of course Ben continued to pack on weight once he’d got together with Elijah. It was yet another thing that Gray had warned him about when dating a chaser. Elijah was kinky, without a doubt. He took pleasure in taking a can of whipped cream into the bedroom with them and encouraging Ben to lick it all off his muscular body at any opportunity. It wasn’t unusual for them to deplete an entire can in almost no time at all.

However, just like Marie and Gray, Ben’s relationship with Elijah seemed equally as controversial. Despite the almost fifteen year age gap, folks just couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around why a man as stunning and successful as Elijah was so captivated by such a fat man as Ben; the looks and stares only getting worse as Ben’s weight continued to climb; his body getting more expansive and jigglier; fat building upon already well established fat. Perhaps it didn’t help how ‘touch’ was always Elijah's best love language when they were out and about. Ben was well used to having the man’s large hand attached to his wide rear, or cupping a bulge of back fat. It was obvious how distasteful some appeared to find it; especially some of Elijah’s more refined friends. Not that it ever stopped him. Elijah was simply being himself for the first time in his life.

“She’s a real kinky little thing, y’know,” Elijah had chuckled one evening after Gray and Marie had left, not long after Ben had moved in with his lover.

Ben, who had spent most of the night discussing video games with Gray in the lounge, had almost forgotten that Elijah would have had so much time to get to know the pretty little thing that had ensnared his best friend so completely. “Oh, yeah?” he smirked, feeling like he knew so much more about what it was like to date a chaser these days. “Gray’s certainly looking a lot heftier these days.”

“He sure is! But he’s all belly. Unlike you with that big, cute butt…” Elijah grinned, swooping in for a kiss. “But there’s plenty more to come if you listen to Marie! Gray is going all out for her, trying to get his weight up before their wedding.”

Ben laughed. He’d always assumed that Marie had driven Gray’s ongoing weight gain but, now that Elijah had said it, the amount that Gray had been gorging on the snacks that evening seemed to make perfect sense. “No wonder I feel so full!” Ben laughed, rubbing his bloated stomach. He’d always been easily influenced by those around him and, if he could pinpoint the moment his weight truly began to run away from him, it had been when he’d moved in with the larger guys, Gray and Eddie; being surrounded by such frequent overeating and carefree attitudes towards food. Just like tonight, watching someone else eating so much always made Ben feel naturally hungrier himself. “So, does that mean you were telling Marie how much weight I’ve packed on since we started dating?” he asked, knowing that such questions always brought out the kinky, teasing side of Elijah that Ben had always found rather unattractive; that was, until they had started dating and it’d become funnier, more laid back and always tinged with kinkiness.

“Of course I did,” Elijah smiled back, his hands exploring the pounds and pounds of pure lard that had made Ben’s stomach so large and spherical since he had broken four hundred pounds. “And I told her about your plans to cut down your hours at work,” the man continued to explain, unbuttoning Ben’s shirt to unleash the enormous torso that he got so much pleasure from. His hands grabbed underneath and bounced the giant belly that had amassed. “I think she’s quite jealous of how well I’m doing with my big boy!” he teased.

Ben chuckled back, enjoying the attention. Dating a chaser had been quite a learning curve for him, but the more he had leaned into it, the more pleasure he had gained from it. He’d wanted Elijah to be open about his kinks, which had simultaneously opened up a whole new world to Ben. There were so many people out there getting enjoyment from this. He’d asked Elijah to use his contacts in these communities to find girls for his friends, Joe and Eddie. On the whole, he’d been pleased to see his friends so happy, despite how rapidly Joe’s secretly kinky girlfriend had swollen up the guy’s face and butt to the point where some people no longer recognised him. Similarly, Elijah delighted in having any of the guys over at their place, splashing his cash by ordering mountains of take out for them all and simultaneously messaging their girlfriends to quietly update them on how well they’d all eaten.

“What’s my calorie count tonight?” Ben asked, seeing the pure lust in his lover’s eyes.

“I counted about five thousand since Marie and Gray arrived at six o’clock,” Elijah speedily replied, full of admiration for him.

“Shit! No way?” Ben chuckled back, rubbing his tight stomach. “I didn’t even notice I was eating that much.”

“You never have,” Elijah smiled wickedly.”I saw that greedy appetite and knew there’d never be anyone I’d want more than you!” He wrapped his arms around Ben’s hips, rubbing the broad glutes. “You’re perfect!”

Ben accepted the sweet kiss from his lover. He could already feel Elijah’s hardness rubbing against him, just as it always did whenever the guy had watched him eat so much in one go. Despite all the dirty dishes, they were heading into the bedroom; clothes rapidly disappearing. “Go on, then!” Ben chuckled, already knowing exactly what horny Elijah wanted to ask him.

The man beamed, bounding away briefly and returning with a fresh can of whipped cream. He lay himself down on the bed, squirting furiously around his hardness.

Ben licked his lips, gazing down at the beautiful physique of his lover; kind, sporty, intelligent and successful. He couldn’t have found anyone better. As for this kinky streak of his… Well, that was something Ben would never want to be without. It was the part of Elijah that Ben had come to love more than any other. Despite his own monstrous, growing form, Ben knew that there would never be anyone Elijah craved more.

He was, and always would be, Elijah’s dream boy.

#gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fic #gainerstory #gainer stories #gay feedee #gainer fiction

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anticipatedexhale · 3 days ago

Note

Could you do a drabble of Arcane x rockstar reader? Classic prompt that's been overused 😞

I believe this prompt will never get old darling I absolutely love this idea!!

I'm a Rockstar~~!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, sevika, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi,

☆ ◞ summary: them absolutely being smitten by their Rockstar partner

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, the tension is crazy , suggestive like really, I must say Viktors and sevikas parts made me feel smth..

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had never been the type to feel starstruck. He was the golden boy of Piltover, a man who walked into any room and commanded attention without even trying.

And yet, here he was, sitting front row at your concert, absolutely wrecked by the sight of you on stage.

The lights flashed behind you, turning your silhouette into something almost otherworldly. Your voice—strong, sultry, powerful—cut through the air like a drug, and Jayce swore he could feel every word vibrate through his chest.

You weren’t just performing. You were owning the stage, strutting across it with a confidence that made his blood run hot. Your fingers danced along the microphone stand, your outfit hugging every inch of you just right, your movements sharp and fluid all at once. The way you tilted your head, the teasing way your lips curled into a smirk every time you met his gaze—it was all too much.

Jayce sat there, legs spread, arms resting on his thighs, pretending to be composed when, in reality, he was anything but. His fingers twitched against his knee, gripping the fabric of his pants as his jaw clenched.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

And you loved it.

Your gaze flickered to him mid-song, and instead of looking away, you leaned into the mic, voice dropping lower, sultrier. “This one goes out to a very special someone tonight…”

Jayce swallowed hard.

His fingers twitched again, his body instinctively shifting in his seat. Fuck.

It wasn’t fair. He was used to being the one people looked at like this. The one who had admirers swooning over him, not the other way around. But you? You had him wrapped around your damn finger, and you knew it.

The concert ended in a blur. He barely registered the cheers, the way the entire crowd was completely enamored with you. The only thing on his mind was you—how fast he could get backstage, how soon he could have you all to himself.

When he finally pushed through the crowd, security recognizing him instantly and letting him through, he found you in your dressing room, still glowing with post-show energy.

“You,” Jayce started, voice thick, heated, as he leaned against the doorframe. “You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

You turned, feigning innocence. “Me? Torture you?” You took a step closer, tilting your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jayce.”

His hands were on you before you could say another word, fingers curling around your waist as he pulled you close. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips brushing against your jaw before he murmured, “You know exactly what you do to me.”

Your grin was devastating, a slow, lazy thing that sent a shiver down his spine. “Maybe I do,” you mused, fingers tracing up his chest. “And maybe I like seeing you like this.”

Jayce let out a low, almost pathetic groan, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?”

You laughed, hands threading through his hair. “But what a way to go, huh?”

And yeah. Jayce couldn’t even argue with that.

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

Mel Medarda

Mel Medarda was not the type to lose her composure.

She had spent her entire life mastering the art of control—her words, her expressions, even the subtle tilt of her head that could make men beg for her attention. She played the political game better than anyone, moving through high society like a queen among pawns.

But then she met you.

And you—the reckless, magnetic, wildly talented rockstar who seemed to command the attention of an entire city without even trying—had the audacity to be hers.

Tonight, she sat in a private VIP booth, legs crossed, wine glass in hand, watching as you performed under the blazing stage lights. The world saw you as untouchable, a star burning too brightly to hold. But Mel? She saw the way your gaze kept flickering to her. How, even with thousands of people screaming your name, you sang for her.

The song slowed, the bass humming low through the speakers as you stepped toward the mic, voice dropping into something sultry, teasing.

“This next one,” you said, letting the words roll lazily off your tongue, “is dedicated to someone very special in the audience tonight.”

Mel raised a brow, lips curving into a knowing smirk as you lifted your hand and pointed directly at her.

A murmur ran through the crowd, people turning to try and spot who had caught your attention. Some guessed, some whispered, but Mel? She simply sipped her wine and held your gaze, unfazed.

You lived for the way her expression never wavered—cool, controlled, elegant. Unshaken. But you also knew better.

You knew how to crack that perfect, composed shell of hers.

So you turned away from the mic, running a hand through your hair, letting the sweat from the performance cling to your skin in a way you knew would drive her insane. Then, as the guitar hummed in the background, you let your fingers drag down your chest, slow and teasing, as if tracing where her hands would be if she weren’t across the room.

Mel exhaled through her nose, slow and measured, shifting in her seat.

Oh, she was seething.

Not in anger—no, Mel Medarda didn’t get angry over things like this. But she did get possessive.

She let you play your little game. Let you soak in the crowd’s adoration, let you tease and smirk and act like the stage belonged to you (which, to be fair, it did). But the second the show ended?

She was waiting for you.

You barely made it three steps backstage before her hand caught your wrist, tugging you aside into the privacy of an empty dressing room. The door clicked shut behind you, the hum of the concert still ringing in your ears as you turned, grinning.

“Enjoy the show?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Mel tilted her head, gaze sharp as she stepped closer. “You enjoy making a spectacle of yourself, don’t you?”

Your grin widened. “Only for you.”

She studied you for a moment, eyes trailing over the way your chest still heaved from the adrenaline, the way your hair was slightly damp from the stage lights. Then, without a word, she reached up and dragged her thumb across your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“You drive me to madness,” she murmured, her voice impossibly smooth, like velvet and steel wrapped into one. "And you know it."

The air between you thickened, the tension sharp enough to cut. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I do.”

Her fingers traced lower, featherlight, trailing over your pulse, her touch both gentle and possessive. “And what should I do with you now?”

The question sent a delicious shiver down your spine, but before you could answer, her lips brushed against yours—not quite a kiss, just a ghost of contact, enough to send heat pooling low in your stomach.

Then she pulled away.

“Come home with me,” she murmured, voice softer now, quieter. “I’d rather have your voice just for myself tonight.”

Your breath hitched.

You could handle teasing, the playful power struggles, the tension, but this? This was something deeper.

This was Mel Medarda wanting you—not just to chase, not just to possess, but to be with you.

And for the first time tonight, you were the one caught off guard.

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

Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t one for loud crowds.

He wasn’t the type to thrive in the flashing lights, the deafening cheers, or the overwhelming press of bodies all moving as one. He spent his days buried in blueprints and research, lost in the quiet hum of his own thoughts.

But for you?

He would endure the storm.

Because even though concerts weren’t his scene, you were.

So now, he found himself standing at the edge of the stage, tucked away from the madness of the crowd, cane resting against his leg as he watched you move under the lights.

And damn—you were breathtaking.

Not just because of how you looked up there, all fire and confidence, a force commanding the attention of an entire stadium. But because this—this—was your element. The way your body moved with the music, the way your voice carried through the speakers, raw and unfiltered, sent something sharp curling in his chest.

Viktor had spent his life chasing brilliance, seeking genius in numbers and theories. But tonight, you were the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen.

The song shifted into something slower, the guitars easing into a sultry rhythm, and you turned just slightly—just enough that your eyes found him through the haze of stage lights.

Viktor barely had time to react before you did something utterly, devastatingly reckless.

You jumped down.

Right off the damn stage.

The crowd roared, and Viktor’s heart nearly stopped as security scrambled, but you just laughed, weaving through the fans like you belonged among them. The sea of people parted for you, hands reaching, voices calling, but you weren’t stopping for them.

You were walking straight to him.

Viktor’s grip on his cane tightened. His brain short-circuited as you strode through the VIP section with that effortless, infuriating confidence—grinning, sweat still clinging to your skin from the stage lights, a live wire of energy.

Then you were there, standing in front of him, so close he could see every rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” you murmured, voice teasing, but your eyes—your eyes were something else.

Viktor swallowed thickly, forcing himself to breathe. “Somehow, I think you would’ve found me anyway.”

Your grin widened. “Of course I would.”

And before he could get another word in, before he could even process what was happening, you grabbed the front of his vest and kissed him.

The crowd screamed.

The music surged.

And Viktor? Viktor forgot how to think.

Your lips were warm, demanding, still buzzing with the adrenaline of the performance. He knew he should pull away, should say something, do something, but all he could do was brace himself against his cane and fall into you.

You broke away just enough to whisper, “You look good in the spotlight.”

Viktor let out something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head as heat curled at the tips of his ears. “I think you might be trying to kill me.”

You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, softer this time. “Not yet.”

Then, just as quickly as you came, you stepped back, flashing him one last wicked grin before turning and jogging right back onto the damn stage.

Viktor exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his mind struggling to catch up.

The scientist in him despised the lack of logic in how you made him feel.

But the man in him?

He was completely, utterly ruined for you.

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

Caitlyn kiramman

Caitlyn had been raised in a world of refinement—strict etiquette, hushed conversations over expensive wine, and appearances that had to be meticulously maintained.

Which is why she had no idea what the hell she was doing here.

The room throbbed with bass, the crowd a sea of energy, bodies pressed together as the lights cast dazzling colors across the venue. The air smelled like sweat, spilled drinks, and electricity.

And yet, despite the overwhelming chaos of it all, Caitlyn couldn’t focus on anything but you.

You, standing on that stage, confidence oozing from every motion, every note you sang, every teasing smirk you shot toward the audience.

You weren’t just performing—you were owning the damn room.

Caitlyn knew she was staring, but she didn’t care.

She had been raised to maintain her composure, to keep her emotions in check. But watching you up there, commanding thousands of people’s attention, only to flick your gaze right at her between verses? It did something dangerous to her.

She should have been used to it by now. You flirted with everyone—the audience, the cameras, your bandmates. It was just part of your stage persona.

But damn it, when you locked eyes with her and winked before hitting the next note, Caitlyn felt her heart stutter.

She needed a drink.

---

The concert ended in a blur of flashing lights and roaring applause, but Caitlyn didn’t move from her spot near the back.

She waited.

Security was already guiding you off the stage, fans still chanting your name as you disappeared behind the curtains.

A moment later, her earpiece crackled.

"Your VIP pass still gets you back here, Kiramman."

She rolled her eyes at the teasing lilt in your voice but didn’t hesitate to slip past the barriers, her polished boots clicking against the concrete floor as she strode toward your dressing room.

She found you exactly how she expected—leaning against the vanity, still glowing from the performance, towel draped over your shoulders, hair damp with sweat.

And grinning at her.

“You should really sit further up next time,” you mused, tilting your head as she stepped inside. “I could barely see you from back there.”

Caitlyn scoffed, crossing her arms. “I was trying not to be a distraction.”

Your smirk widened. “Oh, love, you think you’re the distraction?”

She arched a brow. “Considering you nearly tripped over a speaker when you saw me in the audience last time?”

You let out a groan, dragging a hand down your face. “That was one time—”

“—And the crew hasn’t let you live it down since.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, but the corners of your lips twitched. “Okay, detective. You win this round.”

She took a step closer, tilting her head. “There are rounds now?”

“Always.” You leaned in, lowering your voice. “And I fully intend to even the score.”

Caitlyn felt her pulse quicken, but she kept her expression unreadable. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Without missing a beat, you reached for the towel on your shoulders and, with an utterly shameless grin, tossed it at her.

Caitlyn let out a startled noise as the damp fabric smacked against her, the heat from your skin still clinging to it.

You laughed—really laughed, the sound warm and utterly carefree—before stepping closer, plucking the towel from her hands before she could react. “Don’t look so scandalized, officer. I thought you’d be used to a little sweat.”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, but her lips betrayed her, curving into something dangerously close to a smirk. “Oh, I don’t mind a little sweat.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest, but before you could throw out another flirty remark, she turned the tables on you.

She reached forward, grabbing the front of your shirt, and yanked you in.

Your breath hitched as she leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur against your ear.

“You’re still a bit breathless,” she noted, feigning concern. “Hope I wasn’t too much of a distraction.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re always a distraction.”

Her smirk widened. “Good.”

Then, before you could regain control of the situation, she pressed a kiss to the edge of your jaw—just enough to leave you completely off balance—before stepping back with an infuriating amount of poise.

You blinked. “You little shit—”

“See you at the next show,” she said smoothly, already walking toward the door.

And just as she reached for the handle, she threw one last glance over her shoulder, smirking.

“Score: Kiramman—one.”

Then she was gone, leaving you standing in the middle of the dressing room, utterly wrecked.

“...Oh, it is so on.”

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

Vi.

Vi wasn’t exactly used to this kind of scene.

Sure, she’d been to her fair share of rowdy clubs and underground fights—places where the air buzzed with adrenaline and the energy made your bones vibrate.

But this?

This was a whole different kind of chaos.

She stood at the very edge of the packed venue, arms crossed, boots planted firmly on the ground as she watched you command the stage like you were born for it.

And damn—maybe you were.

Vi wasn’t the type to get all poetic, but shit, you were a sight.

Sweat clung to your skin under the flashing lights, your voice carried through the speakers with that raw edge that made people feel something. Every movement, every glance, every grin sent the crowd into a frenzy.

And the way you owned it?

It made her chest tighten in the best and worst ways.

Because while everyone else in the room was watching you like you were some untouchable star, she knew the version of you that crawled into bed at ridiculous hours, the one who bitched about setlists and late-night rehearsals, the one who stole her shirts and stretched them out just to mess with her.

And yet, every time she saw you up there, looking like you belonged in this chaos, she found herself falling all over again.

Which was why she wasn’t even surprised when you did something completely reckless.

Because, of course, you did.

---

You should have known better.

Vi was already giving you that look from the sidelines—the one that screamed, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Naturally, you did something stupid.

“Let’s make this interesting,” you called into the mic, and the crowd roared as you hopped off the stage without warning, security scrambling to keep up.

Vi groaned, running a hand down her face. You are going to be the death of me.

You waded through the crowd effortlessly, high-fiving fans, grinning as people reached out, soaking in the energy. And then—just to push your luck—you made your way straight toward her.

Vi could feel the heat of a thousand eyes on her the moment you grinned and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her forward.

“C’mon, Vi,” you purred into the mic, the teasing lilt in your voice making her stomach drop. “You’re not scared of a little fun, are you?”

Vi arched a brow. “Oh, you’re a menace.”

But she let you pull her in anyway.

The band picked up a steady rhythm, and before she could even process what was happening, you slid an arm around her waist and—

Oh.

You were dancing with her.

Not just moving—dancing. Slow, teasing movements, your body pressed against hers, the heat of your skin seeping through the thin material of her shirt. The crowd screamed, people losing their minds as you twirled her once, keeping your grip firm.

Vi could handle fights, she could handle explosions, she could handle damn near anything—

But this?

This was just unfair.

She should be annoyed. She should be cussing you out for pulling this stunt in front of thousands of people.

Instead, she found herself smirking.

“You’re playing with fire, babe,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You grinned. “Lucky for me, you’re fireproof.”

Oh, you were gonna pay for that.

With a wicked glint in her eye, Vi suddenly flipped the script—yanking you flush against her, dipping you low enough that you gasped into the mic.

The crowd lost their minds.

And then—just because she could—Vi dipped her head and kissed you, deep and slow, right there in front of everyone.

You barely had time to recover before she pulled back with a smirk, letting go just as fast as she’d grabbed you.

“Better get back up there, rockstar,” she teased, stepping back as you blinked up at her, dazed. “You’ve got a show to finish.”

You swallowed hard, eyes flickering between her and the screaming crowd.

“…Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Vi just winked.

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

Jinx.

"Beautiful, Beautiful Chaos" (Jinx x Rockstar!GN!Reader | Reckless Love, Wild Nights, and Kissing in the Mayhem)

---

Jinx wasn’t the type to sit still.

Not in a fight, not during a job, and definitely not in a crowd of sweaty, screaming people losing their minds over you.

She thrived in chaos, lived for it, breathed it in like air.

And tonight?

Tonight was the kind of chaos she loved.

Neon lights flashed across the stage, strobes flickering as you jumped onto an amp, mic gripped tight in your hand, voice cutting through the thick, electric air of the underground venue. The bass thundered through the floor, shaking the ground beneath her feet.

Jinx wasn’t watching the crowd.

She was watching you.

Because—fuck—you looked so good when you lost yourself in the music. When you screamed into the mic, when your body moved like you didn’t care if the world fell apart around you.

You had that wild look in your eyes.

The same kind of reckless, untamed spark that made her chest tighten and her pulse race.

God, you were so—

“YO, YOU LITTLE SHITS WANNA HAVE SOME FUN?”

Your voice rang out over the speakers, wild and breathless.

The crowd roared.

Jinx grinned.

Oh, she knew that tone. That devious, impulsive tone that meant things were about to get stupid.

And Jinx loved stupid.

She pushed herself up on her toes, trying to get a better view as you suddenly jumped off the damn stage—barreling straight into the crowd, no hesitation, no security, just pure adrenaline-fueled insanity.

"OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE—"

Jinx shoved her way forward as you disappeared into the chaos, people screaming, hands grabbing for you, the whole place erupting into something unhinged.

A bottle smashed somewhere. Someone tripped over a speaker. A guy with a mohawk straight-up passed out from excitement.

And in the middle of it?

You.

Grinning like a maniac, letting the crowd carry you, singing the last chorus like you didn’t have a single fucking care in the world.

Jinx didn’t even realize she was moving until she was right there in front of you—arms crossed, head tilted, looking so unimpressed despite the fact that she was definitely impressed.

You grinned, still breathless. “What’s wrong, trouble? Didn’t think I’d come to you instead?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah?” You leaned in,“You like it.”

Jinx didn’t like it.

Jinx loved it.

But she’d rather die than say it out loud.

So instead, she did what she did best.

She grabbed your face and kissed you stupid.

Right there.

In the middle of the chaos, with neon lights flashing and people screaming and beer spilling onto the floor.

You gasped into her mouth before melting into it, arms sliding around her waist, your body pressing flush against hers like you wanted to burn the moment into your skin.

And Jinx?

Jinx just smirked against your lips.

Because, yeah.

Maybe she did like this.

Maybe she loved it.

And maybe—just maybe—she was never gonna let you go.

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

Sevika.

The venue was packed, the air thick with anticipation. You had the crowd eating out of the palm of your hand, your voice cutting through the bass, a raw, magnetic presence on stage. The lights flickered in sync with the beat, flashing as your body moved effortlessly with the rhythm, the mic gripped in your hand like you were born to hold it.

And Sevika? Well, she was front and center, standing just off to the side, watching you with an intensity that almost felt suffocating. Her posture was rigid, her arms crossed, her gaze never once leaving you.

Her heavy, leather-clad frame was nearly a stark contrast to your energy—wild, chaotic, and untamed as you commanded the stage. But you knew what she was thinking. Knew that under all that tough exterior, there was a fire. A fire that you had kindled long ago.

And tonight? That fire was burning brighter than ever.

---

The song ended, and the crowd erupted into a roaring applause. You took a breath, your chest heaving with exertion, sweat dripping down your neck. But you weren’t done yet.

With a wicked grin, you grabbed the mic, looking straight at Sevika.

“You think you can keep up, big girl?” you teased, voice dripping with playful arrogance.

Sevika’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was a cold, almost predatory glint in her eyes. “I could do this all day,” she muttered, her voice low, the words meant just for you.

The crowd was still cheering, but all you cared about in that moment was the tension that was crackling between you and Sevika. You’d both been dancing around it for so long—the chemistry, the constant pull, the teasing glances, the silent challenges that never seemed to break. But tonight? Tonight you were done playing games.

You took a few steps toward the edge of the stage, reaching out for her, pulling her closer. The crowd was still lost in the music, the band riffing off to the side, but all that mattered now was her—her and the way she looked at you like she wanted to devour you whole.

Sevika’s large hand gripped your wrist with a firm, almost possessive force, pulling you into her space. She towered over you, but her breath was steady, controlled, as if she was trying to hold back a flood of desire.

“You think you can just waltz in here and—”

Before she could finish, you closed the distance, your lips crashing into hers. The kiss was fierce, hungry—no longer playful, but desperate. Your body pressed against hers, and you could feel the tension in her muscles, the way she resisted just enough to drive you crazy. But you weren’t having it. You needed her. And you weren’t going to stop until you had her.

Sevika’s hand slid down your back, gripping your waist with a force that left your breath stolen. She pulled you closer, her lips moving against yours with urgency, heat building between you both. Her other hand threaded into your hair, tugging you even closer, pulling you deeper into the kiss like she couldn’t get enough.

You gasped when she bit your lip, just enough to make you shiver. “You’re playing with fire,” Sevika growled, her voice raw, breath hot against your skin.

And all you could do was smirk up at her, feeling the thrill of the chase. “I’ve never been afraid of fire,” you whispered back.

Without warning, Sevika spun you around, pushing you against the nearest wall backstage, her body pressing against yours, heat radiating off of her. She leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear as her breath ghosted over your skin. “If you think this is just a game,” she murmured, “you’re wrong.”

Your hands found their way to her chest, tracing the muscles hidden beneath her leather jacket. “Then stop playing and show me,” you dared her, your voice low, taunting.

The air between you crackled with electric tension, both of you pushing, pulling, testing the boundaries until it felt like something was going to break. Sevika’s lips hovered dangerously close to yours, her breathing ragged, as if she was barely holding herself together.

And then she leaned in, capturing your lips again, deeper this time—no more teasing, no more games. It was as if the kiss itself was a release, a breaking point of every silent moment between you, every want you both kept locked away.

When she finally pulled away, she smirked down at you, her voice a dangerous whisper, “This is just the beginning, sweetheart.” Her hands were already trailing down your sides, her lips just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

---

Back on stage, you finished the set with a wicked grin. You knew you’d both be facing the aftermath of that moment soon. But for now, the music carried on, and you knew Sevika was right where she belonged—on the edge of control.

And you? You were done being patient. Tonight, there would be no more running from this intensity.

The chaos had only just begun.

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sugurusfavemonkey · 1 day ago

Text

say you'll be my darlin' - kento nanami (2/2)

secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought maybe I just wanna be yours

valentine's day special

summary: kento just made you not only his valentine but also his girlfriend (this is where the pure and unadulterated smut comes in - minors do not interact)

part 1

Kento's plan had only encompassed providing you with a memorable Valentine's day and, perhaps, building a foundation for a relationship with you in the near future. Yet, somehow, he had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend.

The term felt so juvenile, yet he couldn't care less because he felt young. The knowledge that you were just as enraptured created a bubble of blissful elation Nanami had no intention of bursting.

He had no idea how he got there.

Nanami had piled up the plates and was in the process of standing up, having just pushed his chair from under the table when you sprung up from your seat, startling the poor man.

"The restroom is-" he tried to direct you as you made your way around the table, assuming you wanted to use the toilette, but you hushed Nanami by wedging yourself between him and the table. "Sweetheart?" the way he looked up at you in question nearly had you losing your nerve.

You steeled yourself though, swallowing hard and placing your hands on his shoulders. Kento, for all his puzzlement, opened up his knees to make space for you in between his legs but remained otherwise neutral. The way his jaw clenched and hands flexed on his thighs wasn't lost on you, bless his heart.

"I want to show my appreciation to you. May I?" you spoke quietly into the otherwise silent room.

He wetted his dry lips with his tongue and your eyes immediately dropped to follow the brief gesture before mirroring it while he searched your face with a weighted gaze, "we haven't even had dessert yet."

"I have the dessert I want right here, Kento." You slapped yourself in the back for the quick comeback and the hitch it elicited in Kento's breath.

"I don't want to be disrespectful-"

"You've been a perfect gentleman all night. Hell! All your life, I'd bet," you stopped him before he took the blame for your forwardness. "Tell me I'm moving too fast and I'll stop."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Kento smiled gently up at you. The position you put yourself in rendered both of you vulnerable in different ways and you cherished how he so easily entrusted you with seeing this side of him.

"Hmm…" you shook your head, "consent goes both ways."

"I adore how thoughtful you are, my love."

You're unsure if it's the pet name or the intensity behind his gaze, but a shiver ran down your spine.

"I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. This dinner, the flowers… they don't require any retribution," Kento assured you once more, insistent, but you knew he was merely making sure to give you an out in case that's what you wanted.

"I know that. But I want to," you assured him, hopefully conveying just how much you meant the words with your eyes as well. "Consider it my gift to you. I am your Valentine too after all, am I not?"

You didn't give him a chance to answer before you sat on his lap, each of your legs wrapping around his waist. At first, Kento hesitated, his hands hovering awkwardly until they found your hips and slowly glided up to settle on your waist.

You leaned closer until your breaths mingled together and your head spun dangerously with his aromatic fragrance taking over your senses. Nanami is the one who closed the space between you, eyes falling shut as your lips connected.

It's nothing more than a peck, full of unspoken feelings and repressed longing. The air feels charged with tension, your heart pulsing loudly in your ears, temperature running hot at the sheer brush of his warm lips to yours.

He nudged your nose with his before giving you another peck. And another. And then pressing for a bit longer, more intensely, tilting his head so his lips fit better with yours. You let your hands follow the natural curve of his shoulder, one sliding down his back and the other finding its way into the buzzed hair on the back of his head.

With the first brush of his tongue, you were ruined. You opened up to him like a blooming flower. Your entire body tingled pleasantly as he let himself consume you and you let yourself be consumed. Warm muscle exploring and mapping out your mouth sensually.

Nanami felt as if a dam was breaking as he poured the yearning from every moment he had spent craving you into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist until you were sure he had left fingerprints on your skin. You pressed yourself even closer, moaning into the kiss when that did nothing to relieve the ache you felt, your teeth briskly clashing together in your haste.

You only separated when the need for air became too much to bear, a string of spit still connecting your lips.

"You have no idea what you do to me." Kento gasped.

"I think I do." You chirped teasingly as you ground yourself down on his lap, feeling a distinct hardness pressing into your covered center.

"Fuck." That night was full of firsts because you're absolutely certain you had never heard Kento cuss before. "Don't do that," he warned you, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Or what?" You challenged with a giggle as you did the exact opposite, pressing yourself down on him once more. Whimpering at the silver of pleasure it gave you, a teaser of what was to come.

Kento almost growled your name, his breath labored, red blossoming from his exposed upper chest and neck. He gave you no indication before he pushed the dirty dishes further up the table and picked you up with ease, laying you on the table in front of him and leaning over your sprawled form, his body slotted between your spread thighs ad he kissed you again with even more fervor.

Or that, you guessed.

His lips drifted down to your jaw and then to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin, all while rutting into you rhythmically. His ministration had you gasping for air, your head lolling back to the table. You whined pitifully when he abruptly detached himself from you.

"Sit up for me, love" He commanded. And you obeyed… How could you not when you had Kento Nanami in between your legs? His fingers held onto the hem of your top, giving it a few impish tugs, "may I?"

You nodded, wordlessly lifting your arms to aid him in removing the offending cloth. His eyes fell to your cleavage and his mouth fell open, pupils taking over until you could barely see his iris. You used his distraction to remove your bra, throwing it aside the same he had done to your top. Kento let out a guttural sound, something feral from deep within as his hands softly caressed your breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he huffed before he leaned down, pushing you back on the table surface with another kiss. You heard the crashing sound of some dish falling to the ground but neither of you paid it any mind, too absorbed in each other. His lips drifted down to your jaw and then to your neck, kissing and biting at the skin, all while rutting into you rhythmically. Kento's ministration had you gasping for air, your head lolling back to the table.

"K-Kento!"

"Yes, love?" you felt his chest vibrating with his low croon against your skin.

"Please," your fingers searched for purchase on the cotton of his shirt fruitlessly, you feared your nails could have even ripped the material in your desperate pursuit.

"What do you need? Tell me." Nanami had his hands on your chest, massaging the skin nimbly.

"Touch me," you were very close to just begging for it.

"Hmm, but I am touching you."

You rolled your eyes in both pleasure in exasperation, unsurprised his matter-of-fact manners came out even then.

"For f-fuck's sake. Don't- ah," he pinched one of your nipples. "Don't make me spell it out, Ken."

"Right here?" He questioned as he squeezed your tit. "Or maybe here?" The palm of one hand pressed to your covered mound as his middle and ring fingers found your clit even through your clothes and pressed down hard. You moaned.

"Yes! Yes, right there! Please!"

"How could I ever deny you when you beg so sweetly?"

His finger moved to your pants, teasing the button as he searched your face for permission. You huffed a breathy "yes", nodding wildly.

With your consent, Kento unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, pulling them down as he let himself fall to his knees in front of you. Right where he belonged, he thought to himself. He removed both of your shoes, hands stopping to massage your heels before your pants were off. Kento held your leg by your ankle, dropping a few kisses to your calf before setting it down and making space between your legs by pushing your thighs apart.

You lifted yourself on your elbows to peer down at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

"I thought I was the one showing my appreciation?"

"What if I want to show my appreciation as well?"

"You already," Kento kissed up the supple skin of your thighs making your voice tremble. "Hmm, you already did. It's my turn."

"Then let me have this. Worshipping you is the greatest pleasure you could bestow me, love."

"Kento! I-" He bit down on your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him the most, "Ah! Fuck! That's n-not fair."

He nuzzled at your pussy through the soaked lace of your flimsy panties, fingers wrapping around each of your legs to keep them open when the sudden touch had you trying to squeeze them together, "did you wear these for me?"

"Just for you, Kento. All for you," you sighed.

"Look at you. So pretty. So wet too," he murmured contently, his eyes locked on the wet patch on your underwear, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin with each word.

Your hand found its way into his hair, nails brushing his scalp when he finally dared to lick a stripe over the thong, a pointer finger sliding it to the side before doing it again.

Kento outwardly moaned when he tasted your slickness on his tongue, "you taste divine, my love. So much better than I imagined."

You wanted to tease him, question how many times he pictured that scenario, just how often he touched himself to the thought of you, but you could only cry out as he slid his tongue through your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking over your clit and your finger tangle in the strands of his hair.

You whimpered at the wet heat of his mouth on you. It felt like he was trying to devour you, pussy first. His tongue alternated between flicking over your clit playfully and running along your folds. It made you moan as you ground your hips upward. His tongue finally relented its attack on your clit., thrusting deeper into your heat. Nanami groaned, loving the feeling as you tugged on his hair to push his face deeper into your cunt. His cock twitched in his pants, precum probably staining through his briefs and pants.

"Fuck, Ken. Feels so good," you panted.

Nanami glanced up to meet your lidded eyes. The sight of your flushed cheeks had him moaning into your pussy, his hips thrusting helplessly in the air at the same time you jerked your hips. He stopped momentarily and snaked an arm up, pointer and middle fingers breaching through your parted lips and pressing down on your tongue, "wet them for me, love."

You clamped your lips around his fingers promptly, sucking in your cheeks as your tongue twirled around them until there was drool spilling from the corner of your mouth.

Kento pecked your lower lips without breaking the eye contact, "such a good girl."

His praise went straight to your cunt, creating even more slick. You could feel a puddle forming on the table underneath you with how wet you were.

His hand slid from your mouth, down your jaw and followed the curve of your neck only to pause briefly to grope your tit and give your nipple a firm tug before continuing on his trajectory down your body, the heel of his palm pressing firmly to your lower stomach just as his lips attached themselves to your cunt again. You kept making small sounds through it all, breath hitching with each of the breaks he took in the path.

Nanami used his wet fingers to rub small circles on your clit, eating you out like a man starved, craving to have your release on his tongue. You started babbling incoherently, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes when the feeling became too much.

For a second you thought you felt him spelling his name on your clit with his digits, but that could also have been something your fuzzy brain came up with.

"I'm s-so close! Ah!" You moan loudly, "gonna cum-"

And then the coil snap, black spots taking over your vision as pleasure explodes inside your veins, thighs shaking and squeezing his head, Kento only groans as he eagerly lapped up your slick. He worked you through your high until you were pushing his head away.

You're a panting mess, laying there on his dinner table as you try to recover and all Kento could think as he stood up was that you looked like a dream.

"Are you alright?" Kento rubbed the outside of your thighs up and down, still slotted in between them.

"Yup. Just- Help me up?"

"Of course!"

He quickly stepped back holding both of your hands firmly so you could anchor yourself as you sat up and then slid to the ground on unsteady legs. You took a deep breath and mumbled a hoarse "thank you". Once you were certain your legs wouldn't fail you, you squeezed his hands, signaling it would be fine to let you go.

Your eyes drifted to the wet patch and the very clear tent on his pants. You couldn't help but feel a new wave of desire watching over you. You licked your lips and stepped until you were flush against him, fisting the lapels of his shirt and pulling him down. You didn't care that he tasted like you or that his lips were still stained with your juices as you eagerly kissed him. Kento hummed into the kiss, arms circling your waist.

He let you take the reins, felt your clumsy fingers struggle to open each of the buttons of his shirt, and helped when you pushed the open garment down his shoulders and arms. Nanami only stopped you when you tried to unbuckle his belt, his large hands circling your wrists and pulling them up. You whined into the kiss, biting his lower lip and pulling away.

"Let me return the favor. Please."

"Fuck. Tasting you got on the very edge of the precipice I wouldn't last if you went down on me, beautiful."

"That's fine, I-"

"It's not fine," he cut you off, placing a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. "It's not fine because right now I need to fuck you. Will you let me?"

You shivered, lips parting in wonder. The tension on his shoulders and blown pupils did little to hide his hunger and you weren't faring much better, "yes, please."

You were embarrassed by the shriek you let out as he easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and walked around as if you weighed less than a feather, "I promise I'll give you a tour of the apartment tomorrow morning," (which he does so after bringing you a lovely arranged tray with breakfast in bed and spoon feed you yogurt with chopped fruit before you finally have enough and push him down on the bed to suck him dry).

His strength became even more pronounced when he held you up with only one arm to open the door to his bedroom and before you knew it, he had you laid down and spread over the comforter on his mattress. You admired his shifting muscles as he toed off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and removed his pants until he was standing before you in only his briefs. Nanami was truly a sight for sore eyes, with his mussed-up hair (probably your fault), heaving chest, and deep v-line that gave way and pointed down to a badly concealed dick. 'Happy trail' never felt like a more fitting moniker, the meticulously trimmed blonde hair a path to paradise.

"You're beautiful," you had been so engrossed in gawking at him that you failed to notice he had been doing the exact same to you, soft hazel eyes then meeting yours. You knew that small compliment had you blushing, you started to sit up, legs going to fall close, but Kento stopped the movement by kneeling between them, "don't. Let me see you."

"Fine. But you gotta let me see you too," you bargained with a tip of your chin to his cock. You knew for a fact he was positively packing since the shape of it was so clearly apparent too.

"That can be easily arranged."

You watched in bated breath as he slid his briefs down, revealing his thick, veiny… perfect cock. The tip is red and angry, precum dripping down its sides. You caught yourself wondering if he would even fit.

Kento kneeled back on the bed and jerked you forward on the bed so your head rested on a pillow and climbed after you. He reached above you for his wallet on the bedside table and picked through it until he found a condom and dropped both back on the bed, his attention shifting back to you.

"We don't have to use it. I'm on the pill. And I trust."

He wasn't sure if his cock twitched over the prospect of feeling you whole, with no barriers or if it was your trust that turned him on so much.

"My last annual check-up came up clean, but I will do nothing you don't want to, love."

"I want to feel you, Kento. Every inch of you," you were trying to go for seducing, but you were pretty sure you just sounded desperate.

He pressed a finger to your entrance, thumb catching your clit in mean circles to test the waters, and then a second finger, thrusting them lightly. It's when he starts scissoring them to prepare you for what was to come that you let yourself melt.

"Ken, I'm ready, please," you cried wantonly, fingers digging into the comforter as your entire body quivered.

"Are you, love?"

"Hmhmm. So ready." You nodded maniacally, desperate for more. Famished for him.

He slotted his thighs to yours, opening you up for him, and coated himself in your slick as he rubbed his cockhead head up and down your folds, his lips falling apart, gaze locked on the tantalizing motion. When it caught on your entrance you whined, arms reaching to pull him in closer and ankles locking behind his back, miserably trying to pull him in. Kento smirked and finally pushed the first inch inside. Your mouth fell open and your head lolled back at the stretch, nails digging into his back.

He hissed, shifting to his forearms and he ducked his head down to kiss you, pushing further in, feeling your tightness envelop him until he's bottomed out. You gasped into the kiss. It felt like he was so far inside of you he reached your guts.

It was perfection. Pure, unadulterated perfection. Kento was certain he had just made it into heaven.

"Fuuuuuck," you whined pathetically, "you fill me up so good."

He held to your waist as if he was scared you were only a figment of his imagination as he gradually started to move his hips.

You were putty under his ministrations, holding on for dear life and he fucked you nice and slow.

"Kento," you panted, tilting your head back as he kissed down your throat. He ground deep into your cunt, grunting as you tightened around him.

"You're doing so good for me, my love."

The room was hot and sticky, your bodies moving in tandem. Your little sobs with each new thrust like music to his ears. More than heaven, Kento felt home and, given the chance, he would spend the rest of his life worshipping you. He was so fucking close, but he needed you to cum alongside him.

You cried when he adjusted the angle, "fuck, keep going. Right there!" You supplicated.

Nanami complied, hitting that same spot with hard thrusts and a precision that upheld his title as the 7:3 sorcerer. His hand found your clit again and your breath hitched. He sped up then, hitting your sweet spot again and again and again until you're nothing but a drooly mess.

"It's like you were made for me," he whispered reverently and the praise was all you needed as his next thrust shoved you over the edge. You clamped down around his cock crying out.

When you came, Kento groaned into your skin, working you through it until he felt you go lax. He slid He slides his hands under your ass, lifting you as he shuffled onto his haunches, and he sunk impossibly deeper into your pussy.

"Ah. you're so fucking deep," you panted, completely at his mercy as he began to rock you on top of his cock.

"You're talking me so well,” He promised, watching his cock disappear inside your dripping cunt, lost in the pleasure of being inside of you.

His eyes flickered to yours, an angel spread on his bed for him and moaned. Not even his sweetest dreams could've conjured such image… such feeling.

"I-I think I'm close again. Ken, I'm- Oh, fuck! Yes! Please, please, don't stop!"

Kento clenched his jaw and tightened his grip, bouncing you on his dick with such force you could do nothing but holding on for the ride. He groaned, pistoling his hips up, barely holding onto his own release.

"Think you can come again for me?"

You nodded feverishily.

"Then rub at your sweet little nub for me," he commanded in between grunts and shaky breaths. You did as you were told, rubbing at your clit using your mixed juices until you see stars.

Nanami thrusted a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled you down hard, hitting your cervix and that was enough for you to come, mouth agape in a silent cry as your head fell back, body convulsing and walls fluttering around his cock. With a low groan of your name echoing in the room, Kento felt his cock pulsing, painting your walls with his hot cum. He rocked into you a few more time until you stopped shaking and let the both of you fall back to the bed, mindful not to crush you under his weight.

You sighed, caressing his back as he leaned forward to rest his forehead on your heaving chest, both of you basking in the luxurious bliss of an orgasm.

You didn't know it then, but at that moment Kento decided you would be the woman he would marry, no matter how long it took for you to see it as well.

taglist: @madamechrissy @elliehenry24 @vivivillian

a/n: idc, consent is hot.

#mavi writes #nearly 4k words of pure filthy #this is why I struggle with writing smut #I always make it so much longer than it needs to be #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #kento x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you

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lov3notts · 3 days ago

Text

yours, always

summary: draco’s gift to you for valentines

a/n: i’ve decided to release the other boys stories, theo is next :)!!

mattheo’s version; draco’s version; theo’s version

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

Hogwarts on Valentine’s Day was a spectacle. The Great Hall was filled with floating pink and red decorations (courtesy of Professor Flitwick’s overenthusiastic charms), enchanted roses whispered love notes to passersby, and heart-shaped confetti drifted through the air. It was sickeningly sweet—at least, according to Draco.

"Honestly, who thought pink was an acceptable color for the ceiling?" he muttered as the two of you walked through the castle corridors.

You rolled your eyes. "It’s festive, Draco. You don’t have to act like it’s a personal attack."

"It is a personal attack. On my eyes, my dignity, and my ability to keep my breakfast down." He shot a glare at a pair of Hufflepuffs giggling over a stack of enchanted chocolates before turning back to you.

"Speaking of which, you’re not expecting me to do any of that ridiculous Valentine’s nonsense, are you?"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Of course not. I know you, Malfoy. If you were going to do something, you’d act like it was my idea and then pretend you weren’t trying too hard."

Draco’s smirk twitched. "You wound me, love. I am a man of mystery."

You snorted. "You are a man of dramatics."

He gasped, clutching his chest. "I see how it is. I pour my heart into this relationship, and this is what I get."

You rolled your eyes fondly, nudging his shoulder. "Come on, I have to get my Potions book from the common room before class."

He followed you without question, hands stuffed into his pockets as you made your way to the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was mostly empty, the fire crackling low in the hearth. You were halfway to your dormitory when Draco suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him.

"Wait."

You turned, eyebrows raised. "Draco, what—?"

Before you could finish, he placed something into your hands—a small black envelope, sealed with silver wax and a small velvet box.

You blinked, looking down at it. "What’s this?"

Draco shrugged, but his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. "Just open it, will you?"

Curious, you carefully broke the seal and pulled out a neatly folded piece of parchment. As your eyes scanned the words written in his elegant, slanted handwriting, your breath caught.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.

You should know by now that I don’t do grand romantic speeches. I’m not going to stand on a table in the Great Hall and declare my undying love for you—mainly because McGonagall would have me scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of my life. But I will say this:

You are the only thing in this castle that makes any of this ridiculous nonsense bearable. You make me laugh when I want to hex someone. You challenge me when no one else dares. And somehow, despite my many, many flaws, you still choose me.

So, this is me choosing you. Today. Tomorrow. Every day after that.

Yours, always.

— D.M"

Your heart clenched. You read the note twice, then again, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things. You slowly opened the velvet box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet, its charm a tiny serpent curled protectively around a shimmering emerald.

"It’s charmed," he said, voice softer now. "To keep you safe. And warm, if you ever need it." He hesitated, then added, "I had it made for you."

You blinked, surprised. "Draco… this is beautiful."

When you finally looked up, Draco was watching you, his usual smirk softened at the edges, warmth flickering behind his eyes.

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stumbled back slightly but caught you with ease, his arms tightening around your waist.

"I take it that means you liked it?" he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips "You’re an idiot, Malfoy."

"Charming."

"But you’re my idiot."

His smirk returned, but this time, it was warm. Real. He cupped your face, brushing his thumb against your cheek before leaning in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. "Happy Valentine’s Day, love."

"Happy Valentine’s Day, dray."

And as much as he complained about the holiday, you knew—without a doubt—that this was the best one he’d ever had.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

#draco malfoy #draco fic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco fluff #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy valentines #draco malfoy fic #dividers by toastray

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tkwrites · 1 day ago

Note

regarding your reblog about quinn sitting out for four nations….. i’m sure sarah would also be very relieved that he’s prioritizing his health, but i’m now also so curious how you think sarah would have dealt with the whole situation leading up to now….. i.e., quinn playing with his injured hand for weeks, the fact that they kept sending him back out in that one game when he was clearly in so much pain and couldn’t even make it through a shift (the game was basically over anyway!), and even just the process of him making the decision to skip four nations. how do you imagine sarah was feeling about all of it and how outspoken do you think she would have been about her concerns? do you think quinn was asking for her opinion? do you think the topic caused any sorta tension at all? (rambly as hell as per usual mb)

Well, this took on a life of its own (rambly as hell in my own way).

We're going from injuries and Sarah's worry that Quinn is putting himself at risk for the team, all the way to her keeping to her Valentines Day plans despite the fact that they're spending the lead up to the day together.

I had this idea for Sarah gifting Quinn lingerie to get him hyped for her arrival in Montreal on Valentines Day, and I just couldn't let it go, so you get everything together.

Warnings for lots of angst, and then lots of teasing and longing at the end. Also, some praise kink stroking.

Hope you enjoy even though it's a little chaotic!

Though they live together, and they’re fully committed, she’s still not quite sure what her place is in this situation and how much she should say. All Sarah wants is for Quinn to not push himself too hard. To not injure himself any further.

They first talked about it when he decided to join the team mid-way through the road trip after his hand injury. This caused a minor argument. She thought he shouldn’t go. He felt like the team needed him, and, as the trainers told him, he couldn’t injure his hand any more than it already was if he took the proper precautions. To him, it was a no-brainer.

“You’re not the only person on that team, Quinn,” she said as he was packing.

“Yep, that’s the definition of a team.”

“I just…” She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to make herself heard. “I know you’re the best player on the team, but —”

He stiffened, “no, I’m not.”

“Statistics don’t lie, Quinn.”

He turned from his suitcase then, “but what?”

The way he was looking at her, all hard edges and determination made her pause.

“But what?” he demanded again.

There was no good way to say this. “But, if they can’t figure out how to play without you, I’m worried you’re going to run yourself into the ground trying to keep them afloat.”

Anger flashed in his face before he turned back to his packing, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not,” she acquiesced, “but I’m worried you’re going to hurt yourself even more. Isn’t it worth taking time off to heal?”

“I have to help them,” he said, voice sounding like it was cut from glass.

“Quinn, I know you want to win, but…” she trailed off, leaving out the at what cost?

“We need to win these games, or we miss the playoffs.”

“I know, but —”

He slammed his suitcase closed. “I’m going, okay. I can’t hurt my hand any more.”

She winced, mind racing with images of someone targeting his injury, slashing him, or slamming him into the boards to guarantee it would get worse — keeping him out of the game even longer.

The way she was looking at him, resigned and… almost frightened, made Quinn pause for half a second. His shoulders dropped, “I have to go, Sarah.”

“Have to?”

“Yes. I have to help however I can.”

Even though she’d thought this would be the outcome of this argument, she had to fight for him, even if he wasn’t going to fight for himself.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her soft voice was like a punch to the gut.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, pulling a half smile onto his mouth.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she still drove him to the airport and kissed him goodbye, hating the scratchy feel of the brace straps when his hands cupped her face.

“I’ll call you when I get there,” he promised.

She nodded, “Please be careful.”

“I will,” he promised. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, giving him a sad smile goodbye.

He finally understood the guilt Mysey talked about when he came back from injury as soon as possible last season.

The night he injured his oblique, she was watching from home (of course), wincing through the whole game. Everything felt off with JT suddenly gone. Then, near the end, when they announced Quinn was off the bench, her heart started to race, and she grabbed her phone, hoping he’s sent her some kind of update. He didn’t until after the game, and after she’d watched him try, and fail to skate the way he usually did more than once, knowing it wasn’t Tocc throwing him out there, but Quinn throwing himself out on the ice.

When he came home, wincing at every movement, she watched him with big, worried eyes.

She didn’t talk to him when he went to the rink for the following game, angry that he was so blatantly ignoring his own welfare. She even thought about not going to the game at all but ultimately decided that would cause more damage than she wanted to repair. It was a nice surprise when he appeared next to her to watch the game. Relief flooded through her, knowing that the trainers and coaches wouldn’t let him play, despite his insistence he could push through.

As the tournament loomed closer and closer, and his injury was getting better, but not healed, she felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Quinn is competitive and intense, and hockey is something that brings him an enormous amount of joy. She didn’t want him to miss this opportunity to play for his country and with his brother and best friend, but she knew he just couldn’t. Hearing his grunt of pain when he sat up in bed each morning was enough to tell her he couldn’t feasibly play. His hand injury, though persistent, didn’t affect much of their everyday life, other than she’d been on top most of the time, which neither of them minded all that much. But this was different. And both of them knew it.

When he finally announced he wasn’t playing, relief swept through her life like a wave. She’d even contemplated calling Jack to beg him to make Quinn see sense. The fact she didn’t have to made her feel almost giddy. If he hadn’t been so sad, she would have danced around the house in celebration.

The only thing she was a little sad about was the change to their Valentines Day plans. With school, she’d been planning to fly out to him on Friday night, and had care packages packed to sneak into his suit case, something to open on the 12th, 13th and 14th to get him excited for her arrival.

She stuck to the plan, even though they were home, leaving a gift out for him to find each morning.

When Quinn got up to go to PT on Wednesday, he had a text from Sarah. Don’t forget to open your gift!

He had no idea what she was talking about.

The gift she was referencing turned out to be a black silk drawstring bag, no bigger than a sheet of notebook paper, left on the dining room table. The tag tied to it read, This time, you get to choose. Package 1 of 3, which will it be?

When he opened it, he pulled out a swath of meshy lace. Blue, to match his jersey. It took him a while to figure out which way was up, but once he did, he couldn’t help the noise that crawled up his throat. It was a lace body suit. Sheer and stretchy. Just imagining Sarah in it gave him an instant boner.

He brought it up after she got home that evening, but she just patted his knee with a coy smile, “you have to wait to see all three options before you can make a choice.”

“There was only one thing in that bag!”

“I know,” she said, pressing a teasing kiss to his mouth, “they were supposed to go in your suitcase, so you’d be excited to see me on Valentine’s Day.”

“They?” he demanded.

“There are more,” she said simply, sauntering out of the room and leaving him feeling breathless.

“You’ll get the second tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.

He groaned despite the excitement that reared in his stomach.

The next morning, after a restless night of wanting, another black bag appeared. This one on the bar counter. Two is the middle, but will it win of the three?

His fingers brushed something soft when he reached inside, and for a moment, he thought it might be empty before he realized the thing he was touching was made of the same material as the bag. He pulled out a pair of little silk shorts, trimmed in lace, then a matching black camisole. Compared to her gift from the day before, this seemed incredibly tame. All the same, he had to admit, he wanted to see it on her. He knew it would be her perfect brand of comfortably sexy.

The thought of her in the little silk set popped into his mind even more than the blue number had. The blue lace was a fantasy — one he definitely wanted to see come to life — but the silk was real, something he could see her wearing often. He could imagine sliding it off her when they settled into bed on a normal Tuesday night.

The image of her curvy thighs swathed in the slippery material assaulted his thoughts so often, he practically jumped on her when she got home from work, cornering her against that same bar counter where she’d left the gift that morning.

“Hi,” she said, giggling against his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

“Am I?” she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes.

“Why don’t you put this on?” he asked, fingering the lace where it lay on the counter behind her.

“You have to see all three,” she said, easing away from him. “Pick which one’s your favorite.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to wait. And the whole point of this was to get you so excited to see me, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me once I was there.”

“But you’re here now.”

“Patience is a virtue, Quinn.”

“This isn't patience. This is torture.”

“Torture?” she repeated, arching a brow.

“You don't get it! I've had a hard on for two days now, and I’m going crazy. It’d be different if I was gone, but you’re right here.”

She smiled a satisfied smile and walked to the kitchen.

He was so desperate for her the next morning, he followed her to the bathroom, crowding her against the sink, hips pressed to her ass as she brushed her teeth.

“Please?” he groaned in her ear.

She shook her head before leaning over the sink to spit out the toothpaste. The move caused her to press back against him, and he grunted.

“Just because you’re home doesn’t mean we should skip out on the amazing Valentines Day sex I had planned.”

“It is Valentines Day,” he reminded. “We can have amazing sex right now.”

Shooting him a look in the mirror as she swished mouthwash, Sarah shook her head.

Letting out a groan of frustration, Quinn let his head fall on her shoulder.

“You just have to make it until I’m done with class,” she said, turning in his arms. “I was planning on making you wait until I would have arrived in Boston, but then I decided that was too mean.”

“Why don’t you skip class,” he asked, nosing her jaw as his mouth dipped to her neck.

She let out a pleasured hum.

“Come on,” he whispered into her skin, “I’ll get you off as much as you want.”

Swallowing her desire and clinging to the knowledge that the anticipation would make everything better, she broke away from him, “I have to go to class. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He was gripping the sink, breathing deeply when she left the final present on the bed, and slipped out the door.

Barely glancing at the tag, Package 3 of 3. Are you getting excited to see me?, he tore into the silk bag, nearly ripping it in the process. Too impatient to wait, he turned it over. Several pieces of red fabric spilled onto the duvet.

He swore as he pulled the pieces apart. The largest was a robe, satin and short. There was a bra with a bunch of straps he couldn’t figure out, but he knew would look dead sexy once Sarah had it on. Then, a pair of panties made from the same lace as the bra. Only, it seemed as though the whole back of them was missing. Like a thong in reverse.

How was he supposed to decide which of these to pick? He wondered if he could convince her to try them all on for him so he could make an informed decision.

In the end, after laying each piece of lingerie side by side on the bed, he decided it had to be the blue. He’d never seen her in anything like it before, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he could wait for her to change.

He left it out on the bed and left the apartment. He needed to clear his head and had to pick up her gifts.

When he got back home, he called for her, hoping he hadn’t beat her home.

“I’m up here.”

He raced up the stairs, nearly dropping the roses and chocolates in his haste.

“Holy fucking shit,” he said once his eyes landed on her where she was leaning against the lucky couch, wrapped in tight blue lace.

“You like?” she asked, skimming a hand down her side.

He made a nonsensical noise that nevertheless served as an affirmative answer. She looked incredible, all lace and curves, and yet, still his loving Sarah. She was a fantasy come to life.

“You’ve been so patient for me,” she said, padding toward him and taking the gifts from him.

She made a show of leaning over to set them on the coffee table.

His tongue felt too big for his mouth, and he made a sort of guttural sound of longing.

Her hand trailed up his arm when she came back to him, “you’ve been such a good boy for me, Quinn.”

“Fuck.”

“You know what good boys get?”

“Rewarded?” he ventured, his voice cracking over the word.

“That’s right. Are you ready for your reward?”

Knees wobbling, he nodded frantically.

Giving him a sexy smile, she led him to the bedroom.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #tkanswers 📮#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes au #quinn hughes x oc #hockey fanfiction #hockey romance #this is chaotic as hell

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lifeasadorkwithnolife · 7 hours ago

Text

Monster (Azriel X Reader)

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Everyone thinks that Y/N is a horrible person for what she did under the mountain, and she agrees, but Azriel realizes that things aren't what they seem.

I have not wrote any fanfiction in 5 years, which is absolutely crazy. I've been talking to my boyfriend a lot about story ideas and he asked me, why don't you just write it down? So here it is, it's not exactly what I used to write.

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You had hoped you would die under the caldron-forsaken mountain. The 49 years have cost you everything: your family, your court and your humanity. Amarantha had chosen you to be her right hand, you had no one to lose and everything to gain. You became known as Amarantha’s bitch, arguably a worse title than Rhysand’s. Your job was to keep discipline under the mountain and frequently had to whip and grant Amarantha’s wishes of public torture sessions when the Attor was not around.

Your reputation had made it outside of the mountain and throughout the courts, you were known to be ruthless and would kill without hesitation. You were an absolute monster.

Before Feyre had come along and saved you all from the mountain, the only one who understood your pain was Rhysand. For the first few years of your position, Rhysand would look at you with hatred in his eyes. He tortured people too, but you knew he didn’t enjoy it in the same way you pretended to. Every time you tortured the poor soul who got on Amarantha’s nerves, you would go up to them after the fact and hold their hand and ask if they had learned their lesson.

You had a gift and a curse, your gift was the ability to absorb pain from someone else, but the curse was that pain demanded to be felt eventually. Every whipping, every burn, or every cut that you performed, you took it from them to feel later. You kept this secret to yourself originally, but it’s quite hard to hide things from Rhysand.

On one unfortunate night, he entered your chambers under the mountain and witnessed the blood beginning to pool on your back. “Someone give you a taste of your own medicine?” He smirked, leaning against the door frame.

“Get the fuck out, Rhysand.” You croaked, mouth dry as you felt another blow to your back from the whipping earlier. “If I wanted to sleep with someone, it wouldn’t be Amarantha’s seconds.” You could feel the walls you built to protect yourself from Rhysand crumbling, like they were nothing but paper, and his eyes grew in realization.

He walked over to you and placed your face in his hands, his eyes growing wide with understanding. “You don’t have to bear their pain alone, Y/N.” He whispered, but you shook your head.

“Please go away.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. Nobody had ever seen you like this under the mountain, “I can handle it, really.”

You felt the next blow and cried out, Rhysand caught you in his arms and held you. You felt him in your mind, and then your physical pain was gone, and it was just you both in your head. He was right there, in front of you, and all you could do was sigh. “I can explain.”

“Are you…. Are you taking their pain?” He whispered, and you nodded. “Why?”

“We’re all trapped here.” You replied, your voice echoing across the black void. “Someone will hurt them either way, at least if I hurt them… I can take their pain away and they can pass peacefully.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rhys asked, and you shrugged. “I could have helped you, we’re on the same side.”

“It’s my pain to bear, I wouldn’t have agreed to this job if I couldn’t take their pain away.” You whispered back, he nodded in understanding.

From then on, you had one friend under the mountain, and when Feyre became part of the picture, you had two.

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When Feyre won the trials and you were released from the mountain, you realized that you had nowhere to go. Your court has disowned you and your family was…gone. Rhysand invited you back to Velaris to the dismay of his inner circle, and he agreed that your gift would remain a secret until you were ready.

You trained as hard as you could and tried your best time and time again to win over the inner circle. You promised yourself you would tell them about your gift eventually but couldn’t bring yourself to do it, feeling like you would be using it as an “excuse” to torture others and end all the lives you did, when it was really inexcusable.

The member of the inner circle that hated you the most was Azriel, he would immediately leave any room you entered, refuse to go on missions with you and would even stop training as soon as you were in earshot. You could sense him staring at you from afar sometimes, and whenever you would look it would be anger, hatred and maybe a little confusion in his eyes.

You tried your best to make friends with everyone, but it’s hard to be friends with a sadistic murderer who laughed as they were killing the weak and defenseless. The only people who gave you a chance were Cassian and Feyre, and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

One night, during one of your nightmares, you awoke to large hands shaking you awake and came face to face with Cassian. He looked at you in concern and placed a hand around your head in a brotherly, comforting way. Tears flowed down your face. “You were shouting your own name, what were you dreaming about?”

“Cassian, do you think I can be forgiven for what I’ve done?” You whispered, looking up at him. He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I need to tell you the truth.”

Cassian was the first person you willingly told your story to, and he looked absolutely horrified. You showed him the scars on your back and told him about the worst things you have ever done. He comforted you for hours, and in return told you his stories about how he’s killed and how guilty he feels about it sometimes.

It was nice having Cassian after that point, you two would spar, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to throw a punch when he was open. His laughter was a wonderful sound, and he would often catch you staring at Azriel- longing for his forgiveness but knowing that would most likely never happen. You knew he didn’t trust you, and you don’t think he ever would.

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

“I need you two to go on a mission together.” Rhys explains, looking between you and Azriel. “I don’t care about how much you don’t like each other; this needs to be done. The attor was sighted on our border, and I need him found.”

You took a quick look at Azriel before turning away, his hands were clenched into fists, and his shadows were swarming around angrily. “I can go by myself just fine.” Azriel snapped, “She’ll just slow me down and you know it.”

“I need you BOTH to go, which is why Y/N is here.” Rhysand clasped his hands together, looking at you expectantly. “I think she will be helpful in this mission, since the attor is involved.”

“I am familiar with the attor.” You sighed, peeking over at Azriel. “I may be able to lure him out.”

“I bet he’s very fond of you,” Azriel turned to look at you, “I bet you killed more people than he did, did you guys keep count like a competition?”

You stepped back, you had barely spoken to Azriel, but these were his first words with you. Every reassurance that Cassian, Feyre and Rhys had ever provided seemed to disappear.

“I just don’t understand Rhys, why is she here? The rest of us have killed, sure, but for good reason. She is a monster.” Azriel’s shadows circled the room, and you could feel the hatred coming off him in waves.

‘You’re not going to defend yourself?’ Rhys asked you, and you gave your head a slight shake.

“This is the last I’m hearing of it, Azriel, you better bring her back here in one piece or so help me.”

After 3 cold days of searching for the Attor, he was nowhere to be found, and Azriel’s snide comments were getting on your nerves. The flight back to Velaris was cold and silent.

“Hey, I’m sorry that we came all this way and didn’t catch him.” You whispered, staring down at the darkening landscape.

“I just hoped that you would be useful for something.” He replied, not even looking in your direction. You sighed, your heart plummeting to your stomach. You had hoped, on some deluded level, that this trip would allow you to talk to him and explain yourself and maybe- just maybe- he wouldn’t hate you so much anymore.

“I just wanted to say sorry- not just for the attor but for everything.” He looked down at you, and you couldn’t tell what expression was on his face. “I’m just- I’m trying to be better than I was under the mountain, the person I was then is not me. I hope you can believe that.”

He nodded, looking back up at the setting sun. “I believe that you want to be better.” He said solemnly, “But if what everyone is saying is true, then there is no hope for you. You will never change, even if Rhysand and Cassian don’t see it yet.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod, you felt the cold tears sting your eyes but tried to blink them away before they could fall. Azriel saw you for who you really were, the murderer. At least he won’t lie to you like everyone else has.

The silence ticked by when all the sudden, an arrow flew by your head and hit Azriels wing with a sharp crack. He grunted in pain and dropped a couple feet; another 2 arrows swished by and tore through his other wing. “Azriel- land!” You shouted, searching the darkened forest floor for any sign of the attackers.

“No shit Y/N.” Azriel shouted, his wings pumping as the ground came in closer. You felt Azriel turn to the side as another arrow whizzed towards your head, but he took another arrow to the wing. Did he just…protect you? You two landed on the ground in a heap, but you stood up quickly, knife in hand as you searched the darkness for your attackers.

You feel a presence behind you, and turn around, quickly taking the archer to the ground and holding your knife to his neck. He was older, with pointed ears and white hair. He barred his teeth angrily, but with your knees holding down his arms and knife against his neck, he was stuck.

“Why are you attacking us?” You seethed, your knife getting dangerously close to his neck. He struggled.

“They told us you would be passing through- you killed my whole family you bitch!” he shouted, you froze, “Just kill me! Like you did to all of them!” You stood there in silence, hesitating, trying to remember who it was that you killed. You couldn’t kill this man too, you promised you would never hurt anyone again.

Suddenly you were under him, his knife starting to slide across your neck. You didn’t even raise your hands to defend yourself, you could see the pain of his loss clearly on his face. You nodded, closing your eyes as you waited for him to finish. You remembered Azriel’s words from earlier, he was right after all, there would be no redemption either way.

You felt the weight lift from your throat and took a deep breath, opening your eyes and seeing Azriel’s angry from holding up the man. Azriel looked absolutely terrifying in that moment. “No, don’t hurt him- “You started, but Azriel had his knife out and slashed his neck, throwing his body to the ground. You cried out, crawling over to the males bloodied form. His eyes frantically looked around, and you grabbed his hand, but there was no usual tug, no usual surge of power as you took his pain, you looked up again and met with lifeless eyes. The male was already gone.

“Did you…did you know him?” Azriel spat out, grabbing you angrily by your arm and pulling you up. “He shot me out of the sky and just had a knife to your neck, and now you’re crying over him?”

“of course I didn’t know him!” You pushed back at Azriel, looking down at the male who was dead. “I just…. I just….” You felt a wave of nausea roll through you and turned so you could dry heave. Another death, because of you, again.

“You just what Y/N?” Azriel barked, and you flinched from him. “Tell me what is going on.”

“He’s dead!” You whispered. Azriel looked astounded, looking at the man then at you. He then laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

“Give me a fucking break, Y/N. Lets go.” He grabbed your arm, pulling you with him.

You two wandered until you found a cabin, the candles were still burning when you arrived and there was a fire going in the fireplace. You were becoming more worried about Azriel by the minute, his skin was losing it’s color and he was almost limping as he walked. As soon as you both entered the cabin, he sat down in a chair and started removing his leathers.

“Azriel- are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I just need to get this arrow out of my wing.” He muttered, looking at you. You watched him as he reached behind him, failing to get a good grip on it. “Would you mind?”

“I can help.” You whispered, coming up behind him and looking at his wing. His wings were beautiful, dark and somewhat translucent, you had never been this close to him before. You could see an oddish green color seeping from one of the wounds and your heart dropped, poison.

You slowly touched the area around the protruding arrow, he tensed up. Your fingers lightly traced the area around it, trying to figure out if pulling it out was the best option or if keeping it in to stop the blood flow would be better. Removing it would probably be best, since it was poisoned.

“Azriel, I’m going to remove it now, okay?” You said quietly, bracing your hands on the arrow. This would hurt like a bitch, but only for a second. You pulled, wincing as the wing membrane tore open a little more. Azriel grunted. “I’m so sorry, but it should start to feel better now, okay? Let me go outside so we can ice it.”

“No- don’t go.” Azriel looked back at you, his expression a little less guarded. “There could be more of them out there- it’s unsafe.”

“I’ll be okay, we really need to keep an eye on this for a little bit.” You reassured him and walked out of the warm cabin and into the harsh cold. You grabbed as much snow as you could fit in your sack and came back in just a few minutes later, as soon as you walked in Azriel seemed to slump in relief.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him, noting that his complexion had looked possibly worse than before.

“I’m feeling okay.” He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching, then a small smile came to his lips. You stopped in your tracks, if Azriel was smiling at you, there definitely was something wrong. “I feel a little funny….I think there was something in those arrows.”

You nodded, coming over and handing the cold pack to him. He nodded and placed it against his wing, wincing at the cold. “You really confuse me, Y/N.” He admitted, his shadows seemed as lethargic as him as they swirled around you. “I can’t figure out who you are- I just see so many different things and it’s not adding up.

“Who do you see?” You whispered, and he shook his head, somewhat confused. “You can tell me.”

“You act like you are kind, and at first I thought it was for show, but you seem to be kind even when nobody knows it’s you.” He explains, his voice somewhat slurring. “You pay attention, you leave out books you know Feyre will like, you leave out Mor’s favorite snacks when she doesn’t even like you.”

“And I’ve watched you train with Cassian; you refuse to throw a punch even when he’s wide open. Even- even with that guy outside who was going to kill you- you refused to hurt him, and you cried when he died.” Azriel looked at you, without hatred, for the first time. “How can someone who killed so many people, who tortured others and laughed as their families mourn, cry over a stranger? There is something you’re not telling me. Rhys and Cassian can see it, what are you not telling me? I want so badly to be on your side, please, tell me, who are you? ”

You felt tears fall down your face, because he’s only saying this because he was drugged. “Azriel, I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.” You whispered, “I’m different than I was under the mountain.”

Azriel nodded, head leaning back as he winced in pain. You grabbed his hand, not asking for permission, and pulled away his pain. You thought of your family, your last memories with them. Your mother, father and two brothers sitting at the table. Your brothers throwing food at each other whenever your parents weren’t looking, trying to get it into each other’s mouths, and trying to hide your laughter so your parents wouldn’t notice. You could feel him sigh in relief and fall unconscious. You sighed in relief, playing the memory again in your head, missing who you were 50 years ago.

You woke up with a gasp, the pain from Azriel’s injuries tearing through your back. How did he deal with this much pain without even showing it? You snuck outside past Azriel’s sleeping form, and grabbed some snow into the pack that you had used for Azriel, hoping the cold would help your back.

After shoveling some of the snow into the pack, you felt a presence behind you and looked up, seeing Azriel in the doorway. “Are you feeling bet-“

“What did you do to me?” Azriel growled, walking down the three steps to confront you in the snow. “Who were those people? What did you do?”

“You were poisoned Azriel, I just…I gave you some snow to cool you down and tried to get rid of the infection.” You looked up at him, trying to find the man who you had spoken to so truthfully a few hours before. “You were a little confused, which is expected.”

He shook his head, “who was that family? Is that another family you killed?” he spat, and you froze in place. You didn’t realize that you had shown him that. “Forgot I asked. Don’t ever touch me again. Get back in here so I don’t have to protect your ass if someone else comes around to kill us.”

You nodded, leaving the pack in the snow and making your way back up to the cabin. You could feel the chills start but could feel how physically hot your body felt. You laid down on the floor, where you were previously right next to the fire. Azriel stood next to the door, watching you intently like you might try to run away.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” Azriel stated, and you nodded. He walked over to you, hesitating then placing his hand on your forehead for a brief second. “Y/N, you’re burning up. We need to take off some of these layers.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to argue as Azriel ripped off your leathers, freezing at what he saw. He turned you over, but you were pale and nearly unconscious. You could hazily see a hint of worry on his face as you passed out.

The flight back was torturous, the pain had started shortly after you woke up, and with each pound of Azriel’s wings another wave of pain went through you. You noticed that for the first time, you were warm and Azriel kept you close to his chest. You could feel how slow your heart rate was, and the growing pain made your realize that maybe this trip would be the end for you.

“Hey Azzie” You whispered, looking up at him. He was truly so beautiful, especially with he early morning sunrise reflecting off his features and the small beads of sweat. “Are you hurting at all?”

“No Y/N, I’m fine.” He stated, looking down at you confused. “Azzie? Where is this coming from?”

“I think Azzie would be a fun nickname.” You laughed before groaning in pain. “I just wanted to tell you something really important.”

“And what is that?” He looked down at you, if you looked like how you felt, then you could understand the growing concern in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? We could have left last night.”

“I don’t want to argue, please.” You whispered, trying to get closer to him. You felt cold and hot at the same time. “Those people I showed you- I did kill them in a way.” His arms stiffened but you continued. “That was my last good memory before I…. became a murderer. I didn’t protect them, I left and they came and attacked and I was the only one brought under the mountain.” The pain in your chest matched the pain in your back. “I couldn’t take away their pain, I couldn’t hold them as they died, I will never forgive myself.”

“You can’t save everyone,” Azriel whispered, you sighed and closed your eyes again, listening to the thumping of his wings. “Why didn’t you just use the antidote on yourself too, I could have handled it.”

“I can’t use it on me.” You whispered, before falling back unconscious.

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

“I need help in here!” Azriel’s voice boomed, causing you to stir and groan from your position in his arms. “Rhysand!”

You heard thumping and were placed on a soft surface; you felt a warm hand against your cheek and found yourself leaning into it. Then the pain started, and you felt yourself writhe as the poison worked its way through your back.

“I’m not sure what happened, one minute she was fine.” You heard Azriel say in a panicked voice, “then she’s shaking from the cold, no matter how hot I turned up the fire. She has a fever, and her skin is cold to the touch. She has been delirious for the past two hours of the flight, talking about forgiveness and you and Cassian knowing the truth. What is going on Rhys?”

You could feel a set of hands on your back and you screamed in pain as they tried to flip you over. “Don’t do that! You’re hurting her!” You heard a voice yell, and you tried to keep your mouth shut to prevent any more noises from escaping.

“High lord, I’m going to need to him out of here if he can’t control himself.” You heard the women say, you recognized her voice, was that the healer?

“Azriel, what else happened?” Rhys voice asked, you realized that you couldn’t open your eyes, but you weren’t in as much pain, Rhys must be doing something to you.

“We were attacked on the way back; I took three arrows to the wing but she didn’t say anything. Hell, I didn’t even see an arrow go towards her.” You could hear, maybe it was worry, in his voice. “Then she healed me somehow, but she didn’t heal herself. She couldn’t tell me why.” You felt a hand grab yours, and from the ridges of skin there could tell it was Azriel.

“Please, help her.” You heard him whisper.

“Madja, Y/N an absorber healer, she’s been poisoned.” Rhys instructs; you hear a gasp from the healer.

“By the cauldrons, I have never met one before, they are so rare.” You hear her say.

Despite Rhys’s efforts, you feel another wave of pain shoot down your back, but you keep your mouth closed to avoid screaming. “Azriel- get out.” Rhys shouted, and you tried to shake your head in objection. You need Azriel, you gripped his hand tighter, or tried to in your half-conscious state.

You felt your shirt rip open, and then your hand was released, and steps were taken away from you. “Rhys- what are those- why does she have all those scars on her back?”

“She can explain when she wakes up.”

You woke up with a start, a scream on your lips. “Y/N, you’re okay.” A voice said, and you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. You snapped your head to see, Azriel? You looked around, you were in your room, but a chair had been pulled up next to the bed.

“How long…”

“3 days.” Azriel stated, settling back down into the chair.

You nodded, “and…why are you in my room?” You looked around, cautiously looking back at him. He looked…incredulous.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just making sure you wake up.” Azriel cocked his head to the side, anger filling his eyes. “Why would you do that Y/N? I would have been perfectly fine, but you almost got yourself killed, you had no right to do that to yourself on my behalf!”

“It’s not like I can help it!” Your voice was hoarse, and you winced at the scratchiness In your throat. He grabbed a cup of water for you on the nightstand, and you drank almost the whole thing. “Azriel- can I be honest?”

“Please do, I need a good explanation.” He retorted, sarcasm lacing his tone. His shadows were surrounding you, but seemed almost- relieved.

“I can’t watch people in pain.” You whispered, “Watching you in pain killed me inside, and even though you hate and can’t stand to be around me, I couldn’t just watch you go through that.”

“I did hate you.” Azriel says, grabbing your hand. “How else was I supposed to feel? You had killed people I knew, people with families, tortured for fun and acted like you enjoyed it. Hell- I think the whole court hated you.”

You looked down, nodding, tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Y/n.” You looked up, locking eyes with Azriel, “I was such an idiot, the signs were there, and you’re a terrible liar. When I saw the scars on your back, I – I lost my shit. Literally. I don’t Madja is going to let me anywhere near the healing quarters anytime soon.”

“I was just trying to help people the only way I knew how.” You whispered, a tear spilling. He nodded, reaching up and cupping your face.

“I feel like a monster too, I’ve killed and tortured, but I’ve always done it in the name of our court.” He exhaled shakily, giving you a small smile. “But you are kind, and I have just been so frustrated over the past couple of months because I wanted to hate you so much- but couldn’t bring myself to. Watching you laugh with Cassian and Feyre, I felt so helpless like you could never open up to me like that. I literally couldn’t even be in the same room as you, because I felt so…jealous for no reason.”

“Rhys- when he told me about us going together, I was angry. Angry that he would put you in danger just for the sake of getting us to get along.” You watched anger fill his eyes, “and he almost got you killed.”

“I’m okay.” You reassured, smiling through the tears that were still falling.

“just make me a promise, okay?” Azriel released the grip on your face and grabbed your hand, fiercely. “I never want you to take my pain again, or anyones for that matter, okay? My pain is mine to bear, alone.”

You nodded, feeling some relief. “Thank you Azriel, I…this means a lot to me. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for so long.”

“I want to hear everything,” he squeezed your hand again, and you could feel your heart flutter. “I will never let you get hurt again, and honestly…Azriel is so formal. I’m okay with Azzie….as long as its between us.”

#azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic

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goosewriting · 10 hours ago

Text

The Aftermath

summary: reader visits Joaquín at the hospital as he wakes up from surgery.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, mention and description of injuries and medical procedures, mention of accident and explosions, brief mentions of PTSD from events in Infinity War/Endgame, self-doubts and guilt

word count: 2.2k

A/N: i started writing this the moment i came home from watching BNW. can't believe it took me this long to write for him,, he's been rotating in my mind ever since tfantws <3 we really need more fics for joaquín, he’s so blorbo coded like cmon!! 🥹🥹 if you have any recs pls send them my way!

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Sitting by Joaquín’s hospital bed, you bring your hands to your face as you remember his accident on the Indian Ocean. You had watched the broadcast in horror, your heart in your throat as his figure fell from the sky into the open water.

At that moment, you couldn’t help but remember the video from all those years ago, where you saw how Rhodey had fallen as well, like a rock, everyone watching, unable to do anything to stop him. Just like War Machine, Joaquín had turned uncontrollably on his descent, one of his wings ripped from the suit by the missile exploding right in his face.

You’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit since a little before the battle against Thanos on Wakanda, where you had also fought with everyone, but then got blipped. The transition back to society with a gap of 5 years had been very hard on you, and while you stayed in contact with everyone who remained, helping out whenever you could, you didn’t really have it in you to go back out to the battlefield. Even after all this time, you still have nightmares about the snap and the Battle for Earth.

Bringing your hands back into your lap, you let out a trembling breath, clinging onto the constant soft beeping of the machinery to tether yourself to reality and not fall down a spiral of despair. Every time your eyes roam over Joaquín’s injuries, you close your eyes, pressing the base of your hands over them, then open them again. Your sight is momentarily sprinkled with dots, and as it clears, you hope for everything to have been a horrible nightmare. But once your view clears up, he’s still there. Unconscious. Hurt.

The surgery he’d been in last night had felt like it was never going to end. Still, you had stayed the whole time, and once he got out, you stayed at his side.

It’s been several hours since Joaquín got wheeled into his room, the head medic saying he was still unconscious but stable. You shift in the armchair by the bed where you sit. One of the nurses brought you something to eat earlier since you refused to leave, the wrapper of your sandwich still in your hands as your eyes start feeling heavier and heavier, and you can’t find it in yourself to fight the welcome embrace of sleep, slowly spreading through your limbs. You’ve almost completely dozed off when you hear a groan, and immediately your grogginess dissipates. You straighten up in your seat, the wrapper falling to the floor as you scoot closer to the bed, tears stinging behind your eyes. How you still have tears left, you have no idea, given how much you’ve cried in the past hours, terrified of losing the love of your life.

Joaquín blinks several times, scrunching his face, eyes trying to adapt to the light. He lifts his good arm, looking at the tubes attached to it, and his gaze roams the room and down his body, face contorting in pain lightly. Then his eyes land on you, and his face immediately softens.

“Hey, there,” he croaks out.

“You’re awake,” you whisper, holding his hand in your trembling ones. “I was scared you wouldn’t.”

“Pfft, it’ll take more than a meagre explosion to defeat the Falcon,” he retorts with a pained smile.

Normally you’d laugh at his jokes, enjoying his silly side, but right now you have no humour left in you. Another wave of tears rolls down your cheeks, and his smile vanishes.

“Please don’t joke about that,” you plead, giving his hand a squeeze. “You were hit by a freaking missile. From a fighter jet. While up in the air between two armies about to start a war with each other.”

“Well, if you put it like that…” He sighs.

There’s a moment of silence where you again study his bruised face, your gaze landing on the massive burn covering his whole shoulder, streaks of red raw skin visible on his jaw and throat. Your brows furrow in frustration.

“I should have been there,” you mumble, angry at yourself for letting this happen.

“What?” he asks, craning his neck to fully look at you.

“I should have gone with you,” you say, bringing your eyes to look up at him. “Then I could have helped and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Joaquín exhales through his nose in disbelief.

“We were in the air, and I went head to head with the missile even after Sam told me to back off,” he retorts, shaking his head. “There was nothing you could have done.”

His tone isn’t scolding; he’s telling the truth and you know it. Still, you can’t help but feel like the outcome could have been different, if you had just been better, braver. You try to choke back a sob, unsuccessful, and his hold tightens around your hand.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He speaks your name softly. “This isn’t on you. Please don’t cry.”

You grimace, biting the inside of your cheek.

“For a moment I thought you died, Joaquín. I was so scared,” you say with a shaky breath, bringing his hand to your face, and he cups your cheek. You place your hand over his, holding onto it and leaning into his touch like it was the last time you could hold him like this.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Your heart shatters at the thought that even after getting hurt, after getting blown up, he’s the one apologising to you. He’s about to add something when the door opens and a nurse comes in. You back off a bit and hastily wipe your face with the back of your sleeves as she does some check-ups, both on Joaquín and the machines, taking some notes on her clipboard. She then takes one of the tubes attached to his arm, and places a syringe at the other end.

“What’s that?” you ask, suspicious. She gives you a quick look with a raised brow, but when she sees the state you’re in, her face relaxes again.

“Painkillers and antibiotics. He’ll need both of them,” she explains.

It doesn’t take long for the fluids to reach Joaquín’s blood system, and he visibly relaxes against the pillows and closes his eyes.

“Oh, hell yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he sighs, and the nurse chuckles softly. You still can’t get yourself to let go of your worry. Once she’s done with everything, she leaves the way she came, exiting the room. As the door closes behind her, your eyes land on the wrapper on the floor, and you pick it up with a sniffle, crumpling it up further.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?” you ask as you throw the trash into the bin from where you sit, to your surprise making the shot. He doesn't answer, eyes still closed.

“Joaquín?” you ask softly, not wanting to wake him in case he fell asleep again.

“Huh? Wha?” His eyes open and he turns to look at you, his face visibly relaxed now.

“You okay?” You take his hand again, and he gives you a squeeze.

“Hmm-mm,” he hums with a nod, blinking slowly as he tries to focus on your face. “I just think I’m… kinda high right now.”

That’s when you finally break, unable to hold back an endeared chuckle, shaking your head. Joaquín’s eyes are filled with warmth and then concern as they land on your face, brows furrowing as if he just noticed something. His hand comes up to wipe away the remaining streak of tears. He also playfully pinches your cheek for good measure, eliciting another smile of yours.

“That’s better,” he concludes, a smile spreading on his face as well. The smile that could light up any room he’s in, in your humble opinion.

You prop your elbow onto the edge of the bed, head in your hands as you look at him, and he looks back at you with a silly grin. The beeps on the machine speed up a bit, and you look up at the screen, then back at him with a brow raised in amusement.

“Usually you can’t tell because I’m smooth as hell, but it’s true,” he notes, like a huge secret was just uncovered. “You still make my heart race.”

Heat prickles on your cheeks at his words and you avert your gaze with a snort. As long as your heart is still beating, you think, remembering that they had to resuscitate him after the accident, but you shake those thoughts away, preferring to focus on the fact that he’s still here, alive.

“I know that the moment you’re back on your feet, you’ll be out there again, suited up,” you start after a moment, shooting him a serious look. “So I won’t ask you to stop. But promise me to be more careful next time?”

“Pinky promise.” Joaquín lifts his hand, fingers curled except for his pinky, and you can’t help but chuckle as you mirror his gesture, curling your finger around his. He shakes your hand like that side to side for a bit, then drops it back down onto the bed. A strand of hair falls into his face as he leans back, and you brush it back, caressing over his bruised cheekbone gingerly.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asks suddenly.

“Hmm.” You look at the timestamp on the muted TV in the corner, currently playing some movie or other. It’s only then that you realise you’ve been intermittently awake for almost two full days now. “Can’t really remember,” you lie.

“You need to rest. You look exhausted,” he remarks, gesturing to himself. “I’m taken care of.”

“No, I’m not leaving you,” you say, putting as much finality into your voice as you can in your state.

He says your name softly. You look away. He sighs.

“Well, if you insist on staying, then at least I can get pampered a bit, yeah?” he starts, and you narrow your eyes at him in feigned suspicion. He asks with a playful pout, “You know what would make me feel better?”

“Hmm?”

Joaquín turns his head, offering you his cheek. You can’t help but laugh.

“I thought you were high on painkillers already?”

“Even the best medicine holds nothing against your kisses.”

“Pfft, is that so.” Now it’s your heart’s turn to speed up. You two have been together for a while now, but he still makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and gives you butterflies in your stomach, when he isn’t on the brink of death, at least. “Well, in that case, I better get started on your dose.”

You lean forward, placing a kiss on his cheek, and he hums pleasedly. He doesn’t move, though, clearly waiting for more. You’re more than happy to oblige, placing kiss after kiss on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, being especially careful around his injuries. Finally, you hold his chin to turn his face towards you, and kiss the corner of his mouth, then his lips. It's chaste but sweet, and he smiles into it. When you lean back, his eyes are filled with love, slightly unfocused because of the meds, a goofy grin on his face. As you hold his face, you consider saying something cheesy, hoping he won’t remember it. But before you can speak, there’s a knock at the door, and someone steps in. It’s Sam. He looks surprised to see you.

“Damn, you’re still here?” he asks with concern, then turns to Joaquín. “How’re you feeling?”

“Splendid, really,” he replies, leaning into your hand still cupping his face.

“He got a decent shot of painkillers,” you explain, looking up at Sam with a tired smile. “He’s high as a kite.”

Sam chuckles, then looks at you worriedly.

“You need to rest. Both of you.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “Go home, I’ll take it from here.”

You hesitate, looking between the two, and Joaquín nods, his eyes pleading for you to also take care of yourself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Joaquín says, taking your hand from his face and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

“Right,” you sigh and rise to your feet with wobbly legs now that the exhaustion is finally kicking in full force, and Sam holds you up when your knees threaten to give in.

“Whoa there. You need a nap, ASAP.”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” you say with a sigh, steadying yourself as he lets you go, his hands still hovering over your arms for a moment in case he has to grab you again, but you manage to stand straight. You grab your jacket from the back of the chair, and turn to Joaquín. “I’ll come back this evening, okay? I’ll bring your favourite snacks too. Don’t tell the nurse, though.” You wink at him with a knowing smile.

“You’re the best.”

“No, you are.” You lean over him to kiss him goodbye, whispering ‘I love you’ against his lips, and pecking him once more for good measure. The machine’s beeps speed up again.

“Love you too. See you later.” Joaquín brings his hand up to caress over your cheek one last time, then you leave the room.

Sam is still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking down at his friend as the beeps slowly start decreasing back to normal.

“Very cute,” he remarks, unable to bite back a teasing smile.

“Don’t even,” Joaquín says and rolls his eyes playfully, knowing perfectly well that Sam will never let him live that down.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: leave a comment for now to be tagged in future fics; i still have to add the MCU to my taglist form lol

#goose feathers #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #the falcon x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #marvel #brave new world

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carmenberzattosgf · 23 hours ago

Note

Happy Valentine’s Day! Wishing you so much love! I had a thought I know you’ve already touched on this but surprising Carmy with a tattoo of c.b in HIS HAND WRITING like right under your breast. And he’s like feral, like saying the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard, groaning in your ear, choking…

Happy Valentine’s Day! And hehe let’s dive into this because yes. ( also reducing it down to just a C because I think it would be really hard to get a cb in his hand writing to look good.)

The hardest part of the entire thing is actually getting his handwriting for the stencil, and it not looking like a complete mess. Carmen is always in a rush, so anytime he has to sign his name for something it looks messy.

You had roped Sugar into your idea a few weeks ago, asking her to check all the documents he signs for a neatly written signature. It truly takes a few weeks, but she pulls through and sends you a copy of his neat-ish signature. Well, neat for him, anyway.

You get the tattoo on Valentine’s Day, not letting there be any chance of it getting spoiled. The tattoo artist covers it in second skin, so the “C” is still visible underneath. It’s on your rib cage, just underneath your breast.

Carmy, shockingly enough, manages to convince Sydney to let him go home early on Valentine’s Day, so he can spend the rest of the evening with you. He had already surprised you with flowers and chocolates on your nightstand when you woke up this morning. You both had already decided to spend the right in, cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

“Oh! Do you wanna see what your present is from me?” you ask with a huge grin on your face. The movie is already halfway through; he wasn’t expecting anything from you at all. Having you in his arms is as good enough present as is.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything, baby. It’s my job to get you presents.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I got you something! Can you close your eyes?”

A quick smile flashes across his face before he closes his eyes. “Okay, m’ready.”

You lean back from his hold and lift up your hoodie just enough to show off the ink. “Open!”

Carmen’s eyes go as wide as saucers when he sees his handwriting on your body—tattooed like that forever. “Holy shit—no fucking way you did that,” he says, just a little louder than a whisper. His hand comes up to your rib cage, letting his thumb trace lightly over the “C” that’s still covered in second skin. “Baby…”

“Do you like it? Do you like your present?”

Carmy shows you just how much he likes it by fucking your brains out right there on the couch. He’s relentless, hips slamming into you at a furious pace. He keeps one hand on your rib cage nearly the entire time, thumb rubbing over it idly.

He can’t keep his lips off of you, muttering filth in between kisses to your face, lips, and neck.

“Got me on you forever—you have no idea what that fucking does to me.”

“Love you so fuckin’ much—love this tattoo so fuckin’ much.”

“Going to have to get one for you next. How ‘bout right on my hip? Hmm?”

“Always been mine, baby—now you just got something to show it.”

“Oh, you like that don’t you? Having something to show who you belong to?”

“Can fucking feel how close you are. Let go baby, been such a good fucking girl for me.”

Let’s just say the tattoo is the best gift Carmy has ever received and he’s a bit of a sappy mess afterwards. He just loves you so very much, and is a little bit jealous you though of getting a tattoo for him before he got one for you.

He makes an appointment the next day to get your initials tattooed on his hip. It may or may not be at the spot you always kiss him before sucking him off.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy bear #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto x you

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kxtsukixoxo · 13 hours ago

Note

“sit on my lap” for denkiiii ^_^

authors note - nothing. i have nothing to say.

here’s the valentine’s day event, there’s still prompts available!! ⊹. warnings - nsfw content

“there’s….no space” you muttered as you peeked into the backseat of katsuki’s car, you guys clearly didn’t think this through, squeezing four people in the back really wasn’t going to work out, sero squeezed himself inbetween the door and mina, and a bunch of luggage in the middle, with denki on the other end of the huge wall. eijiro sighed in the front seat as katsuki shook his head, “js make it work will ya?”

denki looked at you shyly, what was he supposed to do? and the fact he had the fattest crush on you didn’t help one bit. you were supposed to squeeze yourself next to him, your soft sweet skin touching his, giving him a clear view of your cleavage from your low-cut top, the thought of it made him all hot and bothered.

denki had no idea when his mouth decided to pry open and spit out the words, “sit on my lap” but oh god did he regret it. you were left with no other choice than to sit on denki kaminari’s lap.

“i’m sorry if i’m hurting you” you turned your head away, avoiding eye contact,

“n-no you’re not!!” that was the least of denki’s worries right now, he was trying so hard not to focus on how perfect your tits sat, your pudgy thighs peaking out from underneath the skirt you chose to wear today, resting ontop of him, the feral need to grab them and squeeze the life out of them, knead them like dough, oh you were driving so mad.

“bathroom break!! get the fuck out and refresh your stank asses!” katsuki screamed as he got out of the car himself, eijiro followed suite, sero yawning behind him, mina yawned getting up aswell.

just as you were about to get up, you felt denki grip onto your hand “stay-“ you were confused, worried, what’s up with him? denki’s breath fanned against your ear as he pulled you closer, his hands rested on your thighs “tell me if you want me to stop” the cool air leaving his mouth, sent shivers down your spine. denki’s fingers reached underneath your skirt, palming your clothed cunt, his fingers teased your slit through your underwear as you covered your mouth in an attempt to bottle any noise that left your lips.

“we’re back!!!” mina squealed, “we need to get back on the road, we still have another five hours left”

denki’s fingers didn’t leave from where they were, instead he continued, the luggage obstructing anyone from seeing the erotic sight, right before their eyes. your head fell back as denki’s fingers slipped past your underwear, running his finger up your slit, collecting your sticky slick with just two fingers, shoving it back into you as he teased your entrance with just the tip of his fingers, your hands travelled underneath your skirt to remove your underwear, denki’s curiosity grew, finally figuring out what you were doing as he watched you stuff your mouth with your slick coated panties, denki worked his fingers slowly into you, your muffled moans drowned by the music mina had playing loudly, everybody was oblivious.

denki pumped his fingers inside you as you shuffled slowly, about to come undone. the giant surfboard infront of you and denki, obstructing katsuki and eijiros of the both of you in the backseat, “hey you two alright there?” eijiro asked, curious about the shuffling, “yeah!! all good!! (y/n)’s just adjusting!!” denki forced out, “haha, alright!” eijiro gave him a cheery smile, one that he couldn’t see of course.

you gripped onto eijiros arm, nailing digging into his skin as you tried not to rock your hips, denki finger-fucked you through your orgasm, his arm

wrapped around your waist, restraining too much movement out of you. pulling his fingers out, licking your fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

“we’re here!!”

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mono-dot-jpeg · 2 days ago

Text

focus and study - viktor

summary; in which viktor gives you a proper incentive to study hard and even helps you relieve some stress

genre/extra tags; small one shot, modern college au, smut, fluff, half baked smut, established relationship, this could be considered a prequel to my jayvik reader smut, viktor and reader were together first and jayce joined in not long after, OR jayce thought they were dating already and viktor reader thought too hard about the relationship, silly shit at the end, jayvik freak agenda, OOC viktor????, open ended

word count; 1.1k

[nsfw] [gender neutral reader]

[warnings; sex toys, dom! vik my beloved, written by a sex neutral asexual, orgasm denial/edging, overstimulation?, voyeurism?, implied dacryphyilia, degradation???, vik call you a slut, whore, dumbification?? idk how to spell that one how fitting, riding, slight oral, a small step up from mean viktor compared to my other fic]

a/n; umm... no notes. written in January, finished for valentines. this world will never give me viktor league for valentines. this is so half baked. im so sorry viktor nation.

studying was the worst. at least for you. you, who usually had a good sense of confidence when it came to your classes, felt like screaming into the void with every curse you knew.

nothing just seemed to be clicking in your mind. no matter how many times you went over it yourself, how you asked the teacher, how you asked some classmates. nothing worked.

but then viktor had this genius idea.

"hah... viktor.. i don't- i don't kn-know.." you gasped between words as you feel how sticky your lower half has become as you sat at your desk. you've never been more thankful to only afford a cheap chair because you just know that any leather seat would have you riding on it like it's viktor's own dick. "i don't know- the- the answer-! ngh!" your body trembles as the stupid hot red dildo stuck in you vibrated gently. it was enough to feel but not enough to satisfy. it wasn't even big enough to hit any good spots, too.

"dear.. you can do better than this. i don't date a dumb whore.. do i?" he said sitting on your bed as he fiddled and twisted with the setting on your vibrator. his smirk is subtle every time he gains a whine out of you when he turns the settings higher or lower.

you shook your head, intensely disagreeing with him as you try to hold back from touching yourself. "n-no.. i'm not dumb.." you whined into your hand that did nothing to cover your moans.

"we have 5 more questions, pretty. can you do them for me?" he asked. you can hear him stand up, and you see his figure at your vanity mirror as he approaches you. you can see how hard he is with his pants tightening by his dick. "i'd be very happy if i could give you a reward."

you look at your written notes, but everything seems to blur and mesh together. you shift in your seat, and the vibrator just grazes your sweet spot. you crumble and whine loudly at the absolute lack of satisfaction you just felt. so close but so far. you don't even realize you're crying.

"is my poor love too much of a dumb slut to handle some math assignments? you can't even think, right? you can't even answer my questions anymore.." he said, his hand resting on your cheek as he turns you to face him. "what will i ever do with you?" he turns the settings higher, leaving your legs twitching and shaking for more.

"v-viktor.. please.." you cried out. "i want- want you so b-badly.." you can't help your hand traveling down to your heated area to start touching yourself for any sense of satisfaction. but viktor stops you from doing too much.

"now, now, what did i say about touching yourself? i should teach you how to behave properly. i'd say i could fuck you stupid but that wouldn't be so right for this scenario, would it?"

you start getting desperate, your hands grip at his pants tugging at them and looking up at him with glazed eyes for a chance to have him in you. "v-vik- ah.. please.." your body is only turned to him now, your face covered in tears as the vibrator is only grazing and brushing at your sweet spot.

"my pretty dumb slut, is that what you are now?" he asked, holding your face by your chin. his thumb rubs at your tears. "you listen to me so well, and yet you can't even finish reviewing your notes as i told you to." he shook his head in feign disappointment before moving back to the bed. you follow him, your bodily fluids drip down your legs in a way that makes you feel so pathetic, but you don't even care at this point. you need him so bad.

"please- viktor- i want to- i want-" you can't even speak right. not when he's unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. you almost drool at the sight of him.

"you should be good enough to not cum until i tell you, yes?" you nodded eagerly at his words. "look at you, you're drooling over me." he commented, but most of your sense is thrown out the window as you start licking at his dick. your warm mouth starts to suck and hollow your cheeks as you blow him. you can see how much he enjoys it, but he stops you from doing too much. he grabs a condom to put on, and your body shivers in excitement.

you both move to a more comfortable position, resting fully on the bed rather than on the edge of it. he takes the vibrator out of you, leaving you whining from the emptiness. "no whining, dear." he said as he sat on the bed, pants tossed to the side, boxers somewhere on the floor, and his white button-up open and loose. "ride." he gives the one command, and you go for it. you keep it careful so as not to disturb his hurt leg too much.

you line yourself with his cock and slowly sink, moaning at him filling you so well. you start riding not long after once you get used to the feeling of him. but you're so close to cumming due to the vibrator simply torturing you earlier that your body shivers and shakes from you holding back. "let- let me cum, v-viktor!" you gasp between pumps. his hands on your hips guide the pace.

"you couldn't even answer 5 questions for your notes. are you sure you're not my dumb slut? you can't even think about anything but my cock, right now? nothing but my pretty whore."

"please, please, please!" you repeated, your eyes unfocused and blown out as your mind draws blanks. "wanna cum! please!"

"you're asking so nicely. perhaps you're not that dumb." he hummed. "you can cum now, dear." he purred before holding your face to his, to kiss you stupid. you instinctively respond to his kisses and the last thrust that hits your sweet spot, leaving you to moan his name out. "that wasn't a great plan, but we learned a lot, didn't we?" you would be mad at him for being so composed and calm this whole time if you weren't so fuzzy brained right now. he slowly guides you to pull out and tosses the condom in the nearby trash bin. you move slowly and lean down to finish him off.

"you don't have to do that, dear."

your response is muffled, and you don't even pull away. you refuse to leave your man unsatisfied, but his next words have you pausing, "jayce can do that for you. isn't that right, jayce?" you pause to look over at the door and see a heaving jayce with a hard rock cock stuffed in his pants and a guilty puppy look on his warm face.

#league of legends x reader #viktor x reader #league of legends viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #lol viktor #league of legends viktor #viktor league of legends #viktor arcane #arcane x reader #lol arcane

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ladykailitha · 2 days ago

Text

Yellow Daisies- A Valentine's Story

When I finished the last of the Boy with a Bat story I wanted to do something fun for Valentine's Day. But I bit off more than I can chew, so I'm releasing the first part and will release the others as the come.

Summary: Steve was told that men only received flowers once and that was at their funeral, so he made it he's life's mission to give everyone flowers as often as he could. Or Five Occasions Steve gave flowers and the time he got them in return.

Each part will have the flowers he gives and their meaning for the occasion.

Steve had heard early on in life that men only receive flowers once and that was when it was too late to appreciate them. At their funeral. It made him sad. Even boutonnieres had to be bought and paid for by the boy doing the asking.

Men got hearty handshakes and boys got a pat on the head. Even in sports, girls got flowers for their wins, boys if they were lucky got teddy bears and other stuffed animals. Things that guys immediately tossed on their way out.

Not Steve though. If he got a teddy bear, he kept. Some times they got regifted if the girl really liked one of his collection, but rarely.

So he always tried to make sure he gave as many flowers as he could. Because even though he would never get any back, he wanted to make sure everyone else in his life got as many as possible.

1. Mother’s Day: Pink Carnations- motherhood

When Steve was about eleven and was given money for the first time as allowance when he started middle school, the first thing he did was rush out and buy flowers for his mom.

He bought her white roses, like his father did all the time.

Maureen sighed. “I know you don’t know any better, Steven. But don’t be an idiot like your father. I’m allergic to roses.”

Steve nodded and quickly carried them away when he saw that her eyes were starting to water.

Then he tried poinsettias for Christmas, because he had seen her put out the plant every Christmas and he even picked out the best ones.

Again the gesture was dismissed, though this time it took longer for Steve to notice the poinsettias that were on display weren’t his. It had been hard to tell at first. Because they all seemed to look the same to him.

But then while he was taking out the trash, he spotted a pot tucked away by the garage with wilted leaves and a cracked base.

Steve felt a swooping in his stomach. He knew without taking a single step toward it that it was the one he gave his mom. And while he wanted to believe that the cracked base was the reason it was hidden away. He knew it wasn’t. He knew just didn’t fit his mother’s idea of perfection.

The last time he tried to give her flowers was on Mother’s day a few years later. She had actually been home for a change and so Steve had wanted to do something special for her. So he bought her her favorite chocolates and pink carnations.

Maureen took them with a pained smile and a quiet thank you.

It wasn’t until Steve had come out to the kitchen for a glass of water did he understand what that meant.

She was on the phone with one of her friends. “The chocolates are all right, I suppose. I’ll just have to be sure to portion them out so I don’t get fat. But those flowers, Sophie! They were dreadful! Like I wanted to be reminded I was a mother. My youth is already fading and now carnations! I might as well have one foot in the grave at this point!”

Steve put a hand over his mouth as tried to fight down tears, but they spilled out over his fingers, hot and stinging. He slid down the wall and sat down with a quiet thump. He listened as his own mother complained about how she had felt pressured by Clint to have children and was honestly relieved when told she wouldn’t be able to have anymore.

He got up and walked back to his room, where he held his pillow to his chest and laid down on the bed as he cried and cried. He knew his father hated him for being such a disappointment but to hear that his mother hadn’t wanted him in the first place was hard pill to swallow.

“Dude,” Steve huffed, smacking Dustin on the back of the head, knocking his trucker hat to the ground. “You aren’t doing anything for you mom for Mother’s Day? I thought you loved your mom.”

“I do!” Dustin protested slamming his head back on his head. “But gifts to moms are like baby stuff.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No they aren’t. Now, if you tried to make her shitty ashtray or macaroni necklace I’d agree with you them being childish. But a heartfelt card or even make her one of your electronic doodads would really make her smile.”

Dustin scoffed.

Steve leaned forward into his face. “Because if you don’t I will completely show you up and you’ll never live it down for the rest of your life.”

Dustin gulped, eyes wide. “What would you even do?”

Steve just smiled slow and sinister.

Dustin had made a light up sign that said: Happy Mother’s Day, Ma!

Claudia kissed the top of Dustin’s head when he handed it to her. “Oh baby, I love it. Thank you so much. It’s going right on the mantle.”

Dustin puffed out his chest. Just beat that, Steve! he thought gleefully.

Then Steve showed up for dinner with the biggest bouquet of pink carnations he had ever seen. They were like the size of his head. They were wrapped in a delicate white tissue paper and tied neatly with a pink ribbon.

“Oh Steve, they’re beautiful!” Claudia cooed, gently taking the flowers from him. “You didn’t have to get me anything. I’m just grateful you could make it to dinner.”

Steve beamed up at her. “Nah, I wanted to. You’ve been more a mom to me than mine in every way possible. And I know everyone loves to get get flowers.”

She kissed his cheek and then went to go put them in a vase. “It makes me so angry when I think about your mother, Steve. There are some people who don't deserve children. But I’m grateful you’re here, now.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Dustin said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Even though you aren’t blood, you’re as much a part of this family as either me or Ma.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks guys.”

Claudia bustled him further inside to the dinner table and started dishing out the gorgeous meal she had made.

Steve smiled up at her. He had offered to make it for her, but she told him she loved cooking and it was always a treat to make something special so he let her. And seeing her now, he was glad he had gotten her flowers instead pressing the dinner issue, because she looked really happy.

And when he came back the next week, he found the carnations turned upside down to dry out so she could keep his flowers for longer. The love he felt for her grew so much more when he saw that.

2. Get Well: White Spider Lilies, Snowdrops, and Yellow Orchids- Good Health, Consolation, and New Beginnings and Friendship

Steve wasn’t sure who was less surprised when Nicole got mono their freshman year, her parents or her friends.

Even at the tender age of fourteen, Nicole liked the boys and she wasn’t afraid to get what she wanted.

Which made it more hilarious when it was revealed that she got it from a dirty drinking fountain at the elementary. When kids too young to be kissing got mono, her parents first thought that she got it from a boy who had a sibling at the elementary and had been contagious. As her younger sister hadn’t gotten it.

But nope! She had drank from the same fountain because she been there to pick up Penny from school and had gotten thirsty waiting for her.

So when they were allowed to visit her, Steve of course bought flowers. He had asked the florist for something especially nice for a sick friend and she made a bouquet of beautiful white flowers.

Steve went up to her house, flowers in hand. Nicole’s mother cooed over the flowers and told him what a sweet young man he was.

But it went spectacularly wrong when he went to hand them to Nicole.

She took the flowers and looked at them mournfully. “I–I mean thanks. But I only think of you as a friend. I–the flowers are very pretty but I’m not sure I can accept them.”

Steve stared at her for a moment shock. “No, no!” He waved his hands back and forth. “No. It’s not that. I promise! I just taught growing up that you got people flowers when they weren’t feeling good. That’s all, okay?”

Nicole looked down at the pretty white flowers and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Steve.”

Things went smoother after that. But Steve made sure to let the person know they were get well flowers right off the bat.

Something he was sure he didn’t have to say, but now he wasn’t so sure.

The aftermath of the Battle of Vecna as Dustin was calling it, was rough on everyone. Eddie and Max were in the hospital. Neither one with good prognoses. Max was in a coma and Eddie was still in surgery after eleven hours.

Even Steve was currently in the hospital being treated for sepsis because once the adrenaline wore off after bring Eddie to the hospital his body decided to overreact to his injuries and shut down.

He hated it. He hated that he was there in a bed that should be used for someone else.

“Steve!” Robin admonished when he voiced these complaints to her. “You almost died! I think it’s okay for you to take a break and let other people handle it for a change.”

Steve really didn’t have anything to say to that, because she was right. He could have died if he hadn’t fainted when he did. And they were telling him it was going to be a long and painful road back to normal, but he would get back to normal. He was in good health, kept up a healthy diet and exercised regularly, it was just almost getting eaten alive that caused his body to go into overdrive.

Which, fair.

So he made sure that both Max and Eddie had flowers delivered every day. He even told the nurses to give the other flowers to patients that didn’t get visitors. Something the nurses loved him for.

The flowers he sent Max and Eddie were the same ones he had gotten for Nicole all those years ago. Snowdrops and spider lilies. But for them he asked that another flower be added to the bouquet. Yellow orchids.

When Max woke up, he was standing there, holding her hand. She looked over to see the flowers and scoffed.

“I don’t need flowers, dumbass,” she said rolling her eyes.

“Everyone needs flowers,” he insisted. “The snowdrops are for consolation. The spiderlilies are for good health, and the orchids are for new beginnings and friendship.”

Max looked over at the flowers again and then up at Steve. “I love you, you asshole!” And she gave him the fiercest hug.

Steve held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “I love you too, Max.”

Tag List: TEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #valentine's fic #language of flowers

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sxprot · 15 hours ago

Note

can you do a vee x reader, where vee helps reader with answering triva questions as she's tired of scraps winning over and over again.. and maybe because she has favoritism towards reader. ^^

Author's Note: I really like Vee and her design, I hope I make her personality accurate! Tho, I take it that Vee and reader didn't become a couple? I don't wanna mess it up but eh, let's do the other way. Along with something nice in the end.

Vee x Toon!reader (gn)

Could be romantic or platonic (ig)

---------------🌱

VEE

She couldn't pinpoint how Scraps managed to win every single time. The cat-like paper craft seems to have some secrets with her or is genuinely just lucky. Despite how hard the question is, Scraps won again! Those random answers don't make any sense to Vee, not at all! But before her screen reacts, the audience claps.

"Vee? You aren't mad at Scraps for winning all of your gameshow prizes, right?" "..." She would scoff, but you take it as a 'yes' because of her annoyed expression.

So like a day after that, you got dragged in the show by your TV friend. Despite telling her that you weren't born a genius, Vee would tell you that it's simply fine! Just let her help you, once you get the hang of it, you will understand and be able to solve all of her questions. She has confidence in you and your abilities.

She's a bit arrogant, wanting the spotlight to be on her! She couldn't understand the attention from Scraps when she won again, maybe the others should have praised Vee for her unique quizzes!

"Vee—I'm not too sure about this" "Oh, you could do it. Don't worry, the question is fairly easy!"

And there you are, with millions of eyes surrounding you, camera and spotlight directly on you, you feel yourself sweating over the attention.

I would like to imagine that when it comes to you, Vee always makes the question relevant to what you're good at. Some others Toon knew how Vee is interested in you, from the time when you first joined the gameshow, you always had the most point!

Scraps would let you win, just so Vee wouldn't be mad at her. At the end of the day, you should see how Vee's face lightens up when she sees you.

"Well, isn't it one of my favorite contestants! Mind joining the gameshow next time?"

Don't tell her I told you this but the prizes for you are always special, reminding you that you're one of her favorite contestants...!

A lovely drawn picture of you and her, holding hands together with a smile etched on your two faces. It's Vee's fantasy that someday, you will accept her confession. If a TV could love, maybe...she still has a chance!

(Oh lord, I'm out of ideas. I'm sorry if it doesnt make sense lol)

#dandys world #dandy's world x reader #dandys world x reader #vee dw #vee dandys world #dw vee #dandys world fandom #vee x reader

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bonesxbows · 2 days ago

Text

Brain & Heart (Lucifer X Reader)

My Masterlist

It's Valentine's Day; the most romantic day of the year. For most. For you, it's another reminder of just how...different you are. Society, even in Hell, expects you to act a certain way on this holiday, so you do, despite the overwhelming distress it causes you. That is until Lucifer notices just what these expectations are doing to you and he promptly puts a stop to it.

(WARNINGS)

Ace (Asexual) spectrum reader

Female reader

Plus size/chubby/heavier build reader

Talk of pressures of societal expectations

Negative self image talk

Bullying about weight issues

Descriptions of anxiety/panic attack behaviors and feelings

This is dedicated to myself, @heart-of-the-morningstar , and anyone else who falls on the ace spectrum and has a hard time with this particularly bittersweet holiday. I speedran this bitch just to get it out in time before today was over. Have a (sorta) happy Valentine's Day <3

Banners by @strangergraphics

Your insides churned. Your head spun. Your heart pounded in your ears, eyes threatening to pool over with tears. And you wanted to tear your own skin off with the way your clothes consistently rubbed against it all wrong.

You were going to throw up. Or pass out. Or both. Preferably both, you reckoned.

Charlie had insisted on throwing a party at the hotel tonight to celebrate the human world holiday. Valentine’s Day, they called it, though you had stopped paying attention to it long before you had even arrived in Hell. It was still well and thriving down in the fiery depths, however, fake love and sex appeal amplified to eleven all week. It was driving you absolutely mad.

But you could hide away from the populace and the advertisements til this all blew over, that wasn’t the hard part. What was sending you into a frenzy and had tipped you over the edge into insanity had been the invitation to this blasted party. Lucifer had been ecstatic to go, excitement coursing through him like a puppy once he learned that his daughter had once again invited him to something, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you’d rather chew your own leg off than be surrounded by certified Love Day vomit.

So here you were; hyperventilating in a fitting room in some shitty clothing store in the middle of Pentagram City instead of being locked away in a cozy cocoon of blankets, watching dumb comedy movies and halfway lost in a tub of ice cream like you had been doing for the past week.

No one had told you to come here. No one had insisted that you needed to buy a new dress for tonight. No, you had decided that all on your own, you had thrown this misery onto yourself. But it was expected of you, wasn’t it? If you didn’t show up tonight on Lucifer’s arm in something revealing, flashy, and seductive, then you’d be the laughingstock of the whole hotel. Whether they said it to your face or not. It was Valentine’s Day, and that equaled sexiness. Or so the rest of the Pride Ring told you so.

But for you? The whole idea made you want to reel in disgust. It was just so…unlike you. All this lace, and frills, and low cut necklines, and high slits, and too tight corsets, and barely there straps. Trying to find anything that fit comfortably was becoming an uphill battle.

This was now the third store you had been to and currently you had on a black velvet dress; corseted at the waist and flowing down to your knees, a high slit sliced up to your hipbone and two pieces of fabric draped off the sides of the top of the corset to act as sleeves. You could barely breathe as it smushed your chest in all the wrong places. Tears pricked at your eyes as you nearly tore the wretched thing off of you, throwing it into a black heap on the ground. You aggressively wiped your eyes as you got dressed in your own clothes.

When you exited the room you found a store attendant, politely handing her the dresses that you had taken with you. Swallowing your embarrassment you asked her, “Would you by chance have any other dresses besides these? Perhaps…um…in a bigger size as well?”

She looked you up and down, her snake eyes burning holes into your skull. You wanted to disappear right then and there for even asking her. Either she didn’t recognize who you were, didn’t care, or felt particularly brave because Lucifer wasn’t currently with you. “I don’t think we’ll have anythin’ that’ll fit you, hon. We don’t sell dresses that flatter your…certain…body shape. Too form fittin’, if you ask me. You’ll wanna hide…all a’ that, try the shop down the street. They cater to your clientele.” She snatched the dresses out of your hand, avoiding contact with you as if the mere touch with you was gross to her, before she strutted away, her too-tall heels clicking condescendingly against the floor behind you.

You bolted out of the door before anyone else in the store could see you.

It took about another hour but you finally worked up the courage to finally walk into another clothing store. You couldn’t go back empty-handed, but you’d take anything at this point, just so you could go home.

A tiny bell jingled above your head, a small frown etched into your face at the task laying in front of you. There was a wild assortment of dresses to choose from, in a wide array of colors. You sighed, already defeated and on the verge of giving up. You weren’t sure how many more humiliating dressing room incidents you could handle. So you grabbed the first basic dress you saw; a blood red simple-looking thing vaguely in your size.

You sulked to the dressing room and went through the motions for the umpteenth time that day, pulling the satin fabric over your body. It wasn’t super unflattering per se, the babydoll shape sitting right at your waist and the bust fitting more or less comfortably. You could at least breathe without struggling this time. But there was still that infuriating slit, revealing your entire thigh, and the neckline sat way too low for your liking. But it was good enough. It would have to be. You were done. You just wanted to go home.

Lucifer was waiting for you when you arrived home, nearly toppling you over as he pounced on you as soon as you stepped foot inside. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his smile lighting up the room as he lifted you up and spun you around.

“Ducky! You’ve been gone nearly all day! Where’ve you been?” He placed you back down on your feet but still held you in his arms.

“I uh…went shopping. For tonight.” Your voice was flat, exhausted. Dreading putting that blasted dress back on in a mere few hours.

He eyed the bag in your hand, a small smirk growing on his lips. Guilt seeped its way into your veins. You knew what he was expecting and what you had ended up choosing was not the same.

“Oh? Bought something special, did you? A surprise, or do I get a sneak peek before everyone else?” He cocked an eyebrow, his look turning sultry. Your stomach twisted into a knot. Satan, you hated today.

“Um…we’ll see, Luci. I…I need to go get ready.” You needed to be alone. Is what you wanted to tell him, but you didn’t want to douse his excitement. You weaseled out of his grasp, slinking down the hallways toward your shared bedroom as fast as you could.

He followed you for a spell, rushing after you, his smirk replaced with a look of concern. “Wait, ducky, are…are you okay?” He reached out towards you, but you had reached your bedroom door before he could get a hold of you.

“I’m fine, Luci. I just need a moment. Please.” You told him fleetingly, shutting the door in his face as soon as the words left your lips. He stood staring at the wooden surface, eyes wide, unsure of what to do.

You were going to explode.

You grabbed at your hair, tears flowing down your face at what you had just done. You wanted to scream. Instead, you grabbed the nearest pillow off the bed and chucked it against the wall. A dull thud resounded against the plaster. You huffed angrily, half stomping into the bathroom and aggressively pulling out everything you would need to make yourself look at least half decent. You owed him that much after how you had just treated him.

Makeup and hair tools and various jewelry littered the bathroom counter, but yet nothing was looking right. You were on your third makeup look attempt; a subtle red eye look with a sharp eyeliner, mascara, and matching dark, blood-red lipstick. You weren’t satisfied, but you were running out of time. Sighing, you finally slipped on that awful dress before searching the room for the highest pair of heels you owned. You’d probably break an ankle by the end of the night, but at least they would make Lucifer happy. That was all that really mattered tonight.

Again he was waiting for you by the door when you opened it, though this time he seemed more nervous, waiting for you to come to him instead of rushing towards you like before. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, though you didn’t notice at first, with your head downcasted towards the floor.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, ducky.” He whispered. You finally turned your gaze up to meet him, being met with a downright impressive sight when you did. He had changed into an outfit you had never seen before, all black leather, a skin-tight high V-cut crop top accompanied by extremely low-cut pants with heart netting cutouts near his thighs, topped off with a new black and red ringmaster coat around his shoulders. He looked amazing compared to you.

You kept silent, too afraid that your words would betray you and release the waterfalls all over again. You couldn't risk ruining your makeup. Again. So you instead gave him a small smile, the best you could muster through your inner turmoil. He seemed to not notice was what hidden behind it.

He walked forward, taking your arm in his, snapped his fingers, and led you through a glowing portal straight into Charlie’s hotel.

The place was already buzzing with people, music, and lights.

You regretted coming already.

Though you were grateful Lucifer never let go of you as he went around saying hello to all of his daughter’s friends, staying well and clear away from the mop of red and black hair that peeked above the crowd. You were lost in your mind the entire time, seeing the colors and shapes move around you but not really hearing what was happening. You were holding on to Lucifer with a death grip, not letting him leave you for a second. You could feel a thousand eyes on you, everyone in the crowd staring at you, the queen of Hell, half exposed for a few dozen of people to see. On this day of all days, with sex on everyone's mind, you were nothing but eye candy to them. Something to ogle at. A piece of meat to be caught and savored.

You wanted to disappear. You were suffocating from their views.

“Hey,” You heard someone call out. A hand came to rest on your forearm and you instinctively flinched. Whoever it was pulled their hand away immediately when you did. “Sweetheart?”

“She seems a bit tense. You’re sure she’s alright? Perhaps our queen isn’t much of a partygoer.” You heard someone else say with a mocking tone. Static threatening to tickle your ears with their words but you closed your eyes and blocked them out.

“She’s fine.” A closer voice snapped back. “Come on, ducky.” They continued. And then you were being moved, led through the hotel’s hallways with someone’s arms firmly around you. You were brought to a door and once it was opened you were led outside onto a balcony, the city of Hell sleeping below you.

The cold air hit your face like an icy slap, sending a shiver down your spine and forcing you to gulp in a deep breath. It felt like icicles in the back of your throat but it relieved some of the tension in your mind, the cold working its way through your system like a soothing syrup.

You wrapped your arms around yourself to cover your exposed skin, continuously drinking in the frigid air in steady, deep breaths. Like…like you had taught Lucifer to do during his panicked episodes.

“Ducky,” You heard him timidly call out your nickname next to you. He had let go of you as soon as you had stepped foot onto the balcony and now he seemed afraid to touch you, a horrid mixture of fear and worry stuck to his face, uncertainty controlling his limbs.

You flicked your eyes back down to the city below, guilt once again gnawing at your insides. You had ruined the night. “I’m fi-”

There was a gloved finger placed on your lips before you could finish your two-worded sentence. “Don’t, sweetheart. I know you’re not okay.” He removed his silencing finger, not caring about the lipstick that had smeared onto him, and went to lace his hands with yours. “Tell me what’s going on. Please. Let me help you.”

You nearly burst into tears at his words. Your bottom lip trembled and your jaw ached from the building pressure. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I…I…” But the pressure snapped, muddy blackness pooling at the corners of your eyes and dripping down your face. “I ruined everything.”

A look of confusion flashed across his face as he instinctively went to wipe away your tears, doing his best not to smear the watery makeup all over your face. “What?”

“I ruined everything, Luci!” You sobbed, your tears flowing in earnest now, too quickly for his fingers to keep up. He resorted to just cradling your face and listening to you as you continued. “Tonight was supposed to be special, everybody says it’s supposed to be special, but I don’t even know what that fucking means half the time! Why is it that romance is all about attractiveness and sex and being seductive on this stupid ass holiday? It makes me feel so…so gross!” You screwed your eyes shut and stomped your foot. It was childish, but it felt good to finally say how you felt out loud. “Never mind the fact that I don’t even have the body for it! Do you know how hard it is trying to find a dress that isn’t revealing down here? Let alone one that fits me?” You pulled at your skirt, knocking your knees together in an attempt to keep the slit closed, to no avail.

Lucifer was still, silent, his brow furrowed as he absorbed your words. But after a moment he seemed to make up his mind, being broken out of his frozen state. He let go of your hands and shrugged off his coat, but before you could ask what he was doing he had thrown the warmed clothing over your shoulders. You looked at him, your mouth trying to form words, but he didn’t notice, being occupied by trying to guide your arms into the sleeves of his jacket and clasping the front shut, effectively dressing you in his coat. He looked practically naked without it, being left in his leather crop top and pants, and the cropped nature of the jacket didn’t do much in the way of covering you, but the warmed leather on your bare arms and the smell of sweet apples wafting off of his collar was more than comforting. You weren’t home, not yet, but it was close enough to feel like it.

He looped his arms around your neck, pulling you closer to him, using his body to cover everything that his jacket still left exposed. His touch worked to slowly melt away the rest of your stress.

“Would you like to go home, love?” He asked, his fingers finding the nape of your neck and massaging it soothingly.

“Huh? No, Luci, this is- Charlie invited you and- you were so excited…isn’t this important to you?” You were on the verge of rambling, your eyes going wide at his suggestion. You hated the idea of making tonight about you. Wasn’t that the opposite of what you were supposed to do?

“Not as important as you, ducky. Charlie’ll understand. Sooo, what’ll it be? Choice is all yours, my beautiful angel.” You smiled sheepishly at his compliment, your gaze falling down to the ground. A grin grew onto his face, sharp teeth fully on display.

“I…I’d like that. I’d like to go home. Please.”

“Done! Just let me say goodbye to Charlie, okay? Two seconds, love bug, I promise.” He kissed you on the forehead before letting you go to step through one of his portals, the bustling party just on the other side. The glowing circle zlipped closed as soon as he was through, leaving you alone on the balcony. The silence was deafening, but not overwhelming. It was comforting compared to what the party had sounded like.

A cool wind blew past you, ruffling the tails of Lucifer’s coat and the ends of your skirt. You pulled the sides of his jacket tighter around you, fighting off the chill that threatened to run through you and trying to hide what the wind wanted to expose.

As soon as the wind died down another portal opened up and Lucifer stepped back onto the balcony. He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers in yours as the portal shifted behind him. The slightly distorted view of the party died out and was instead replaced with the comforting sight of your shared bedroom.

In one swift motion Lucifer scooped you up into his arms, being extra careful to not let your clothing sway out of place from the quick movement. You shrieked out of surprise, throwing your arms around his neck and clutching onto his shoulders for support as soon as you were lifted off of your feet. He chuckled softly, shifting your body against his so that your front was facing him, what was left of your exposed skin now blocked by his frame.

He carried you through his portal, back into the familiar comfort and safety of your home, and placed you on your bed. He turned on a bedside lamp to get rid of the surrounding darkness and then he left your side for only a moment, making his way to a nearby dresser. You took the time as an opportunity to start shedding your horrid outfit. The sooner the better.

But he heard your movements and stopped his search through the various dresser drawers, turning back around to face you. You were halfway done working off one of the clasps to those infernal heels when he interrupted you.

“Oh no no no, allow me, sweetheart.” He rushed over, kneeling in front of you and placing his hands on top of yours to stop your motions. He swatted your hands away and started unbuckling the clasps himself before you could argue.

“You don’t have to, Luci, I can do it.” You told him regardless. Three seconds later he had one heel off. You hadn’t realized how much your feet had been hurting until they started screaming at you once the shoe was off.

“But I want to, ducky.” He retorted, working at the buckles of the other heel, his claws making short work of it. He stood up and walked back over to the dresser, taking the discarded shoes with him. You didn’t have the energy, or the heart, to argue with him anymore, so you sat patiently and waited for him to return.

When he did he held two pieces of clothing in his hands, two pieces you instantly recognized. A hoodie and matching pair of sweatpants you always wore, particularly on days when you wanted to hide yourself away from the world. He laid them on the bed beside you for now.

“Do you want me to help you with your dress or would you rather change in private?” He asked, giving you full control over the situation. You merely shrugged off his jacket and stood up, turning around to give him access to the dress’s zipper. He worked quietly, unzipping the dreadful thing and letting it pool to a heap at your feet. It was soon replaced with your hoodie coming over your head. “I figured you’d wanna be in something more comfortable after…all that.” He said as his hands guided the shirt down over your body as your arms instinctively found the sleeves. “I’ve always seen you wear this, so I assumed it was a safe option.” His eyes never wandered, not even once, as he knelt down again to help you into your sweats. Both articles of clothing were extremely oversized, hanging off of you like a blanket, but that was what made them so appealing on days like this.

You pulled the drawstring of the sweatpants tighter, tying it into a bow to keep them from falling down. “It’s perfect, love. Thank you.” A small prideful smile found its way onto his lips and he leaned over your shoulder to give you a gentle kiss on the cheek. He snapped his fingers and his leather clothing was soon replaced with his duck-print button-up pajamas, his look now more matching yours on levels of comfortability.

“Cuddles, my angel?” He asked as he began to run his claws through your hair.

“Cuddles.” You agreed, nodding your head. He hopped up onto the bed, situating himself with his back against the headboard before he pulled you on top of him. You locked together like puzzle pieces, your face buried in his chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your legs tangled together. You sighed contently for the first time that day.

His claws continued to card through your hair soothingly, being careful not to pull at any strands. “You didn’t ruin anything, you know.” You looked at him, and he continued once he had your attention. “I didn’t care what we did today, so long as it was with you. Besides Charlie, you’re all that really matters to me, not some silly rules made up for a human holiday.” He kissed the top of your head once he was finished.

You didn’t know what to say, exhaustion starting to settle in your bones in earnest. So you just hummed in understanding, to let him know you had heard him and acknowledged what he had said. Your eyes fell closed from his rhythmic motions against your scalp and his heartbeat thumping underneath your ears. An angelic lullaby reserved only for you.

A silence fell over the two of you for a while. Long enough that you were almost on the verge of sleep before he called out to you again. “I remember what you said, you know, about yourself. I think you’re beautiful, ducky. Gorgeous, even. No matter what your body looks like,” He paused, using his free hand to lace your fingers in between his, squeezing it gently. “You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

#my writings #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin

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