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hazbinhotei · 1 month ago

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the devil's note.

warnings/tags: jazz singer!reader, alastor only has like one line of dialogue in this lol

word count: 2793

summary: As a talented and enchanting jazz singer, your performance turns personal when your bold teasing leaves the Radio Demon speechless.

alastor x f!reader. thank you to the anon who requested this story! guess who's back!~ so... i haven't uploaded in 10 days. i think you are all due for an apology, but i hope swear i'm not giving up on this account so quickly, so hopefully more uploads come along soon! i have many part two concepts in my head (including this story)—but the question is if i can write it all out before life gets to me. enjoy!

The day had started with one of Angel Dust’s usual antics—a grand proclamation over breakfast, fork twirling in hand, eyes glinting with flamboyant mischief.

"Alright, listen up, bitches! I got somethin’ special planned for tonight, and no, Vaggie, it ain't one of my 'educational' excursions, so don’t get your panties in a twist!" He waved a pink-gloved hand as if to ward off her immediate disapproval, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. "I’m talkin’ class, I'm talkin’ style, I'm talkin’ one of the best damn voices to ever grace the depths of Hell."

Vaggie narrowed her right eye, sitting up as she glanced at Charlie beside her. "This isn’t another one of your weird ‘bonding activities,’ is it? Like—like that time you tried to get us to go to a ‘How-to-Moan’ class?"

Angel scoffed. "Okay, that was one time, and I still think it woulda been fun!” He huffed, shaking his head to dismiss his previous rejected suggestion. “But no, babe, this is different! I got this girlfriend performing tonight, the kinda doll that could sing the socks off of any demon. Total smoke show, like an absolute bombshell—think old Hollywood but with a fuckin' bite!"

Vaggie sighed, leaning forward on the table, her forehead dropping into her hand. "This is gonna be a disaster, isn't it?"

Charlie bit down on her lower lip, hesitating before curiosity won out. She rubbed a hand over Vaggie's back, consoling her girlfriend as she asked, "What kind of venue?"

"A jazz club!" Angel declared, tossing his upper arms up with a twirl. "Live music, good booze, and a vibe that ain't total chaos—betcha didn’t expect that from me, huh?"

That immediately caught Alastor’s (previously devoid) attention, ears flickering up as his half-lidded eyes opened up. His usual grin stretched just a fraction wider with newfound interest. "A jazz club, you say?" His voice was light, laced with curiosity, a lilting note of intrigue threading through each syllable. "Now that sounds like a lovely way to spend an evening."

Charlie’s attention snapped to Alastor, ecstatic to see him actually interested in a group bonding activity for once. She immediately whipped her head back to Vaggie, who merely groaned in response to her partner’s current puppy-dog expression. Vaggie only sighed once more, pursing her lips. “Fine, we can go.”

And just like that, the deal was sealed.

The moment the doors swung open to The Devil’s Note, a sultry jazz bar nestled in the heart of Pentagram City, the group was automatically enveloped in a haze of warm, dim light and the slow, hypnotic strum of a double bass. The scent of whiskey and aged cigars wove through the air, mingling with the perfume of debauchery and whispered secrets.

Velvet drapes cascaded from the ceiling like blood-red waterfalls, framing mahogany walls adorned with vintage jazz posters and golden sconces that flickered with an otherworldly glow. A grand chandelier loomed above, its many crystal facets casting fractured light across the glossy black floors.

Husk barely had a moment to process the room before a passing server—impeccably dressed in a maroon vest and black bow tie—wordlessly handed him a fresh glass of whiskey. He took it without hesitation, grunting in approval before muttering, "Yeah. This place ain't half bad."

Vaggie, arms crossed and brow furrowed, took a slow, assessing look around before finally conceding, "This is… surprisingly nice."

Angel Dust twirled, four arms outstretched as he breathed it all in. "I know, right? Y’all thought I was gonna drag ya to some sleazy strip joint, huh? Give me some credit!" He leaned against Husk, smirking as Husk coughed mid-sip from the sudden movement. "Even whiskers over here is enjoying himself."

Charlie, expression starry with admiration, nodded vigorously. "I wasn’t expecting something this elegant! It’s like stepping into another era."

And yet, amidst all the chatter and appreciation, Alastor stood eerily still. His smile remained, but his gaze told a different story—nostalgia. He surveyed the space with an unsettling kind of familiarity, his fingers ghosting over the back of a chair as though touching a memory brought to life. The phonograph in the corner crackled softly beneath the low hum of conversation. The brass instruments glinted under dim golden light, polished and pristine. Authentic.

He inhaled steadily, deep and deliberate. "Now, this," he murmured, voice almost reverent, "is a proper establishment."

And with that, the group was ushered to a candle-lit table near the stage, where they settled into a plush, curved leather booth, sipping on devilishly strong drinks while Angel Dust gleefully droned on about how they were in for a real treat. Niffty bounced excitedly beside him, her tiny hands gripping the table as she took in every detail, while Husk, already halfway through his second drink, merely grunted in pacified patience. Vaggie remained reserved but intrigued next to an energetic Charlie who was practically vibrating with elation at the sight of the entire group together in an area that wasn’t the hotel.

Even Alastor quieted his usual accompanying static, a sign of respect for the Hellborn jazz band on stage. His glowing eyes flickered about the place, his smile satisfied as he tapped along to the beat with a clawed thumb. He had been prepared for tacky, garish decor, for a club that spat on the essence of true jazz. But this—this felt like a whisper from the past, an echo of something he once knew. The deep thrum in his chest from the bass, the filtered wah-wah notes of the trumpet, the sharp keys from the piano—it was real.

His head began bobbing in time with the beat, and before long, he was humming—low, rich, an effortless accompaniment to the imps filling the room with old-world soul. His foot, ever so slightly, tapped along with the rhythm in addition to his thumb. It was a rare sight—Alastor, not just half-assed listening, but feeling the music, letting it settle into him like it was a life source.

Charlie, observing him from behind, leaned toward Vaggie with a hushed whisper. "He looks… natural like this. Like he belongs here."

Angel grinned as he overheard the princess’ words, twirling the stem of his glass between his fingers. "Ain’t seen nothin’ yet, toots." His mismatched eyes twinkled, delight bubbling just beneath his tone. "Just wait ‘til the real show starts."

As if on cue, the lights began to dim. A few guests around the club perked up, their murmurs laced with anticipation. The energy in the room shifted as a golden spotlight shined on the center of the stage, buzzing quietly with unspoken thrill.

A hush fell over the crowd as the jazz band eased into a rich, sultry melody, the notes weaving through the air like smoke curling from the end of a cigarette. The suspense in the room was palpable, some guests shifting forward in their seats, their low whispers betraying excitement. Then, as if answering their call, a graceful silhouette stepped into the soft light, emerging from the shadows.

You.

Draped in liquid satin, the deep emerald fabric of your gown clung to your curves like it had been painted on, the thigh-high slit revealing glimpses of silk stockings as you moved. Diamond earrings kissed your neck, sparkling under the spotlight, while a matching necklace sat snug at your throat, a glittering noose of old money elegance. Every inch of you screamed dangerously expensive, an untouchable femme fatale gracing Hell with her presence.

The moment your ruby lips curled into a relaxed, sly smile, the room seemed to exhale all at once—entranced, bewitched. Every step you took was intentional, high heels clicking softly against the stage as you moved with the languid finesse of a panther on the prowl. The mic stand welcomed the brush of your fingers, cool metal against your skin, and for a brief moment, you let the silence stretch—letting them wait, letting them want as you surveyed the crowd with bated breath.

Then—

You sang.

A voice like silk and sin, rich with the kind of confidence that came from knowing the effect you had. The song had started off with a bang, your voice powerful as you rang out the first electrifying note—long, steady, and clear proof of your skill. Your opening riff dripped with seduction, wrapping around the room like a velvet ribbon. Conversations hushed. All eyes were on you.

Even Alastor’s.

He sat unnaturally still, red eyes burning like embers, fingers tightening around the glass of whiskey in his hand. His ever-present smile had not faltered, and yet, there was something in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way his ears twitched as if trying to resist the very essence of your voice. His chest felt tight with a new emotion he could not quite place, his mind suddenly empty of all other thoughts as he watched you sway on stage.

The musicians followed in suit once you sang the opening, the floor vibrating as the swell of jazz rolled through the room like thunder dipped in honey. Every instrument answered your voice like a well-trained lover—sharp when you snapped, soft when you slinked. You didn’t just sing; you prowled, you played, you performed. Your hips moved with the rhythm, and every gesture was a magnetic force of perfected deliberation. Notes curved out of you like smoke rings, leaving the room hanging on every breath.

As the final note lingered in the air, a wave of applause rippled through the audience. To Angel's excitement, his group all seemed to be giving signs of approval. Charlie and Niffty were clapping fervently, and even the usual impassive faces of Vaggie and Husk were now adorned with impressed expressions. And Alastor… He clapped too—but it was precise, calculated. Each movement measured, restrained, as his eyes smoldered with sudden intensity.

Angel leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the booth, grinning smugly at the group. “Ain’t she great?” he drawled, clearly reveling in their reactions.

As the applause settled, you bowed elegantly, sending a charming smile to the crowd. “Enjoy your night at The Devil’s Note, darlings. There’s more where that came from—so stay tuned.”

The small crowd applauded a second time, your band picking up the beat once more as the lights cleared just slightly for an intermission. In the downtime, you spotted Angel in the crowd, a flicker of recognition lighting up your expression as you stepped down from the stage. You snaked towards their booth with effortless grace, the attention of a few Sinners lingering on you as you passed their tables to get to your good friend.

“Angel!” you called out, sliding up beside him as he beamed at you. “You always know how to gather an…”—You glanced at the motley crew, blinking in surprise as you took in his choice of accompanies tonight—”interesting crowd.”

He wrapped his upper arms around you, hugging you tightly as he gestured to the group with a free hand. “Doll, meet my weird-ass roommates. We got Charlie, she’s the princess—yeah, that princess. Vaggie, her overprotective watchdog. Husk—he’s grumpy but I promise he’s warming up to me.”

Husk snorted. “Not in a million years.”

Angel waved him off, continuing down the line. “That’s Niffty, she’s a firecracker, and last but definitely the freakiest—Alastor, ya know, the Radio Demon.”

After greeting each member individually, your gaze finally landed on the Sinner across from you, who sat ever so still in the curved booth, his grin wide as you both studied each other. You hummed softly when you met his red eyes, glowing with something akin to curiosity. You had heard of the Radio Demon in passing conversations throughout your time in Hell, but you had never expected him to be such a… dapper fellow.

He was dressed in a crimson pinstripe suit, essentially blending in seamlessly with the aesthetic of the club. The sharp cut of his jacket accentuated his tall frame, and the dark shadows surrounding him only seemed to grow in the candlelight, casting an eerie silhouette behind him. You almost had to hold back a laugh at the odd addition of two tiny prongs of antlers jutting between his large red ears—an unexpectedly cute detail that clashed comically with the otherwise pristine 1930s vibe he was going for. Something in his expression, the way his grip tensed around the glass at the way you watched him, made your brow lift in amusement. He studied you in return not with disdain, nor indifference, but with something far more interesting—contemplation. It made the hair on the back of your neck stick up; how thrillingly dangerous.

You leaned in slowly, purposeful, your elbow hitting the table as you rested your chin against your palm. You let the tension stretch, your head tilting as your charming smile morphed into a wide smirk. His watching eyes only seemed to track your every move, his body tensing slightly as if he were waiting for an attack. Then, with a teasing, sensual tone, you tilted your head and purred—

“You seem uncomfortable. Do I make you nervous?”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes, stunned into silence by your words. His ears shot straight up, blinking several times at you as if he couldn’t believe what you just said. The rest of the group seemed equally shocked by your bold move—both Charlie’s and Vaggie’s jaws dropped at your provocative comment as Husk merely took a long, slow sip of his drink to hide his amused smirk at Alastor's dumbfounded expression.

A second of quiet tension passed before Angel burst into laughter, cackling loudly. “Toots, you’ve seriously got a death wish! Fuckin’ flirting with the Radio Demon—I swear I’ve never met a gal as crazy as you!”

You turned back to the spider beside you, grinning deviously as his arm around your shoulder shook with every guffaw. “Please, I’m only teasing.” You couldn’t help but chuckle alongside Angel, shaking your head as you turned back to look at the rest of the table. “But seriously, I’m glad to have you folks here. Any friend of Angel’s is a friend of mine, so enjoy your time here.”

You backed out of the booth smoothly, gesturing for a passing waiter to bring a fresh round of colorful refreshments to the table. Angel lit up like he’d just witnessed the second coming, beaming at you with pure reverence for the free alcohol. You rolled your eyes with a smirk, giving his shoulder a playful push that made him giggle like a schoolgirl.

As the rest of the group oohed and aahed over the new drinks being set before them, you turned to take your leave—gown swaying around you—but not without one final glance over your shoulder.

While the others were distracted by the sudden liquor, Alastor’s staring remained fixed on you, unmoving and unblinking. You met his gaze, letting your lashes lower just so. Then, with all the poise of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing, you winked slowly… and blew him a kiss.

His smile snarled, revealing black gums—just for a moment—before your eyes caught the sharp bob of his Adam’s apple in an involuntary gulp. You glanced down at his free hand on the table, his red claws leaving a few scuff marks on the polished mahogany wood. You only huffed a laugh, shaking your head as you turned forward once more.

“For the Radio Demon, you don’t seem to be quite the talker!”

You were met with a sudden burst of radio static, the lamps above you flickering in tandem. You heard a few gasps from the group before Angel’s recognizable laughter rang out once more, wheezing even harder than before. Smirking, you continued on without looking back, sending a fluttering wave to the group behind you.

You ascended the stage once more, your heels clicking against the familiar wooden stage. The imp at the piano glanced back at the commotion, eyes darting between you and the table with a questioning brow, but you snapped your fingers lightly, calling him back to focus. He simply nodded and turned back to the keys.

As you reached for the mic again, you glanced once more toward the table—and found Alastor watching you. His menacing smile remained, tight and strained like a mask held too long. When you both made eye contact, his right eye twitched. You bit your lip, a coy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, whether that be from your clear effect on the Sinner or the dangerous thrill starting to blossom in your stomach.

Only one thought rang through your mind as you stepped into the spotlight, the music swelling behind you, the room holding its breath once more to hear your voice:

This will be fun.

tag list: @railgunuzi @frompiscium @rose-in-blue @catticora @milkissesx [want to join/be removed from the tag list? check my pinned post!]

#not jazz but i imagined tough lover from burlesque for the opening song lol #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor x reader #oneshot #thanks anon!#request #shittily-proofread

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absurdthirst · 3 months ago

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The Mismatch {Alpha!Dieter Bravo x Omega!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.1k

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, mentions of social structures, classism, drug use (it's Dieter), mentions of bisexuality, deceit, jealousy, mentions of knotting, fighting, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, knotting

Comments: Tired of living a life of debauchery, Dieter decides to use Omega Finder, to discover who is omega is. Witnessing this folly as his assistant, you know that he won't find her. Until he does, confusing you since you are his omega.

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"Dieter. It's a pleasure to sit down with you today." The interviewer from The New York Times sits down with the actor.

"It's a pleasure to be here." He smiles, his wedding ring flashing from the bright lights that have been set up in his living room.

"So, you've been married for ten years now. How are you enjoying married life?" The interviewer asks and Dieter grins, "it's amazing. I love her more and more every day. I never imagined it would be like this." He declares and the interviewer nods, "you had an agency find your mate, correct?" Dieter nods, "yes...but it wasn't smooth sailing."

****

Everyday it surprises you that Dieter Bravo is an alpha. The neediness, the whining, the childish pouts when he doesn’t get his way or someone doesn’t recognize him on the street. You would have never guessed that he was an alpha before you started working for him. The alarm on your phone goes off, reminding you to take your suppressants and you pull the pill bottle out of your purse, popping one into your mouth as the trailer door flings open and Dieter rushes inside. The set makeup looks comical considering his eyes are widened and excited but the makeup is bold and dramatic. “I’m going to do it!” He cries out enthusiastically, making you frown.

“Do what?”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, expecting you to read his mind, you already anticipate every single one of his needs - right down to his drug resupply. “I’m going to find my mate!”

Your eyes widen in shock, surprised that he would even consider that. “What? Why?”

Dieter looks up from his phone, "I want to find my omega. This agency...they will find them. They track the DNA data and find your mate...for a large fee of course." Dieter says and you sigh, knowing that the man is incapable of being monogamous. "Not available to the normies...you guys have MateMatch or whatever. This is for the elites who don't have time or the capacity to go out on dates sniffing for their omega." He snorts and looks in the mirror, "I want to settle down. Getting too fucking old now. I want my mate. My person." He declares, frowning at the wrinkles on his face.

Normies. Dieter thinks you are a beta. It doesn’t help that you have been on suppressants since before you worked for him, and you’ve never corrected him on his mistake. For good reason. Dieter does not need to know that you are an omega. “Dieter…” you sigh. “Your mate will expect you to be monogamous.” You remind him. “Biology will expect you to be monogamous. Once you are bonded….you can’t sleep around.”

Dieter rolls his eyes, “duh. I know that. I’m tired of waking up in a pile of bodies covered in cum and no one. No. One. Wants to cuddle me when the daylight is coming in the window. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I’m not stupid. I know that my looks and money will take me so far but when I’m shitting myself, who is gonna love me? My mate would.” He says dramatically, “I’ve made up my mind. The agency is already trying to find them.” He declares, “I’ll be a mated man in no time.”

You try not to huff, knowing he would pry and when Dieter wants to know something he will pester you until you give in. The truth is, he won’t find his mate easily, because she’s already standing in front of him. “Just…don’t get discouraged if it takes some time.” You offer, feeling slightly guilty about not telling him the truth and costing him a lot of money. You know he wouldn’t want you as his mate, you’re his assistant. The only reason you know that painful truth is because of a week he was away and your suppressants had run out. The shirt he had stuffed in your bag one night had called to you, making you go into heat until you could get a refill on your prescription. Blocking your scent again for when you were around him.

Dieter scoffs, "they are professionals. I bet I am married off before the end of the year. Dieter Bravo...serial monogamist. Now that would be a headline." He chuckles and reaches up to adjust his hair before he heads out onto set.

It takes a couple of weeks but finally, Dieter gets the call. It's late after a long day of press junkets and Dieter is in the back of the town car beside you when his phone rings. "Hello?" He answers, putting it on speaking because he doesn't like the phone on his face.

"Hi, Mr. Bravo. We have news." Shelley, the agency advisor says and Dieter bites his lip, nervous as fuck. "We found her!" Shelley declares and Dieter's eyes widen.

"Oh wow. It's - it's a woman. Not that I'm complaining. I don't mind but - wow." He chokes, shocked that this is suddenly real.

You can hear everything, fingers twisted together and you hate how your gasp makes him turn towards you. They found you somehow? How did this company manage to get a sample of your DNA? You never allowed any of your blood to be put into a database. Shifting in your seat, you prepare for a difficult conversation with your boss about why you hid your omega status, and the fact that you are his mate.

“They found my mate.” He declares and Shelly continues to give Dieter the details.

“Her name is Polly and she lives in San Fran. We are arranging for her to come here to L.A this weekend. She’s younger than you. 28. Blonde. Blue eyes. She’s fertile and ready to find her forever.” Shelley declares and Dieter shakes his head.

“I can’t - I can’t believe it.” He grins and bids Shelley goodbye after confirming she will email the details. “Can you come with me to meet her? I’m- I’m fucking nervous.” He admits, his hands shaking slightly.

Stunned silent for a moment, you don’t know what to say. They couldn’t have found someone else, there’s never been a case of anyone having two mates. “I-um- Dieter….”

He frowns, grabbing your hand. “Please, I need you. You know what to do to keep me calm. I can’t be high when I meet my mate.” He begs, making you bite your lip.

“Yeah, I guess.” You murmur quietly, unsure if you need to tell him this company is lying to him.

He exhales shakily, squeezing your hand, “thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He feels a spark from your skin but he thinks it’s the tab he took before he left his trailer. “I need you there because I can’t afford to mess this up.” He stresses and you nod, a frown still on your face but he doesn’t notice.

You need to find out what company Dieter hired to find his mate, because they have fucked up royally. He lets go of your hand and you immediately start going through his schedule. If you know anything about him, he will want to have a chemical peel, to rejuvenate his skin and meet with that spiritual hack that he is convinced works miracles on his aura.

Dieter panics every single hour of the day until the moment arrives. He exhales shakily, his hands shaking and he's stone cold sober, not even a swig of booze. He looks over at you as he waits for his mate, dressed in a blue suit and his hair styled. "How do I look?" He asks, needing some reassurance.

He looks incredible. You’ve managed to never feel jealous throughout all the lovers that have come through Dieter’s bed. Never let yourself be jealous. Now you are. He’s excited and hopeful, a light in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Dee….” He turns that expectant smile on you and you know it’s not the time to talk to him about this Omega Finder agency, “you look great.” You admit. “All Alpha-y.”

He pushes his shoulders back, puffing out his chest with pride that you think he looks like an alpha. He has never conformed to what an alpha should be. Some extreme groups dictate that alphas should become first class citizens like it was before the Omega/Beta Civil Rights Act in the 50s. He has fought hard for equality in the wake of his biological makeup and he hopes he has provided a good road map for younger alphas looking to break the mold. He has a tugging in his chest, his eyes meeting yours, and he disregards it as nerves.

Shelley from the agency enters the room and Dieter swallows down the words that were bubbling in his throat, words that were foreign to his tongue. He wanted to thank you for helping him with everything. "It's time." Shelley declares and Dieter adjusts his jacket, rolling his neck as he follows Shelley to meet his mate.

You trail along behind him, curious to find out what kind of person they have gotten to play Dieter’s omega. You hate how excited he is, knowing that he would never be this happy if he knew you were his mate.

Dieter enters the room that was set up to meet his omega and she is facing away from him until he is a few steps away. She turns just as he approaches her, a wide smile on her face. "Dieter, baby! My alpha!" She cries, throwing herself in his arms. His arms wrap around her. She's gorgeous. Like supermodel gorgeous and Dieter buries his face in her neck, breathing her in. Her scent is warm and inviting, making him melt against her, and he feels like this is right. This is his omega. He's read about how this moment should feel. How it should make him want to drag her off to bed right away, make him want to cover her in his scent, but maybe that was the old method. Times have changed and you can't just fuck someone you meet seconds before. He squeezes her waist and pulls back, leaning in to kiss her softly. "Omega." He declares, knowing the agency must know who his match is and he won't doubt it. He wants this. He wants to be settled down and if it's Polly, then it''s Polly.

You can smell her. You frown when the scent is one that you know well. It’s your scent! Your nose curls slightly, aware that something has been manipulated and you aren’t sure what. There is no way that she should smell like you.

Polly kisses him back, her eyes wide and a smile on her face as she takes in the appearance of her alpha. "You're so handsome." She coos, cupping his cheeks, and he smiles at her. "You're beautiful." He declares and she smirks, "oh I know." He chuckles, a little awkward at her confidence but it's not a bad thing.

You instantly dislike her. It’s the conceited aura dripping out of her pores, along with the fact that you know this woman is lying to Dieter. You swallow back the jealousy, wishing you had told Dieter the truth before now.

“So…should we go get dinner? Get to know each other?” He suggests and she nods. Dieter feels a little more confident as he takes her hand in his and turns to look at you. “You booked the restaurant, right? I booked the whole place. I didn’t want us to be interrupted and it’s early days so the press would disturb us.” He explains to Polly who beams at the news that Dieter rented out an entire restaurant for her.

You snort, knowing you are the one who had called the restaurant to reserve the entire thing. It hadn’t been easy and you had to promise the entire staff exorbitant tips to make up for there only being one guest. Dieter’s LLC would pay it. You’ll have Dieter sign photos later on to give the staff too on the promise not photos or autographs tonight.

Polly squeals in excitement and Dieter’s smile falls slightly at the annoying sound. He doesn’t want to rip her clothes off. She’s beautiful but she’s like a lot of women his PR team set him up to date. Still, she’s his mate, his omega. You can’t deny science and biology. Her scent was mouthwatering and he can’t wait to get to know her more. “Shall we go?” Dieter asks, holding his hand out to Polly who nods and Dieter turns to look at you, “you’re dismissed. Thanks for helping.” He says, his eyes flat as he looks at you.

“Of course.” It hurts, it cuts deep when he looks at you like you are a piece of furniture but that's what you deserve for not being honest with him. “It’s my job.” You can’t watch the gorgeous woman drape herself over him for another second so you turn and walk to the door, wanting to get away from them and figure out what to do next.

****

“So…what’s it like being an Oscar winner?” Polly asks Dieter over dessert.

Dieter sighs, setting his fork down, “it’s…a lot of pressure. The expectations are higher. When I was just getting started, I was constantly fighting, battling for screen time and now? I don’t even need to audition. It feels like I have let myself get lazy.” He admits and Polly shakes her head, “that just means you get the bigger jobs. More money. That’s success baby.” She winks and Dieter nods, “I guess so but I miss being a struggling artist sometimes.” He confesses and Polly giggles, thinking he’s joking. He chuckles alongside her, going along with “the joke.” When the date is over, Dieter pulls her close to kiss her, his head tilting to deepen the kiss and she cups his cheeks, sliding her tongue against his. Neither of them know that one of the kitchen staff that didn’t sign an NDA snaps a photo that will be splashed over the papers tomorrow. “Dieter and his omega” the headlines will read.

****

“So did you know when you met her that she was your mate?” The interviewer asks, tilting his head, and Dieter chuckles.

“No. Not really. Everyone talks about how you instantly connect. The romance movies that show the alpha and omega immediately kissing but that wasn’t what happened with me. It was slow. It took a while to recognize her and when I did, it was spectacular.”

****

Dieter kisses Polly when she arrives at his house, ushering her inside. They have been dating for a few weeks, commuting between San Fran and L.A. “You got those spring rolls that Pol likes?” Dieter asks you when you set the take out bag down. It’s been chaotic since the press found out about his mate but he’s handled it, leaning into the story about wanting to find his omega. Polly handled it with grace and he’s ready to take the next step if she is tonight.

“Yes.” The answer is clipped, short. Annoyed that his ‘omega’ has started texting you demands like you work for her. When your priority is Dieter.

“What’s wrong with you?” He huffs, pouting that you are being short with him. Dieter loves nothing more than to be adored and since Polly has shown up, your temper has been easily provoked.

“Nothing.” You sigh, reminding yourself that you signed up for this. You didn’t tell him the truth. “Dee….are you sure the company is right?” You venture. “That she’s your omega?”

Dieter glances over at Polly who is on the phone to her friend and he shakes his head. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I paid five hundred grand for them to find my mate and you think they are wrong? No way. She’s - she’s perfect for me.” His voice wavers slightly as the doubts that he keeps in the back of his mind jump out in the form of his assistant.

Your eyes widen slightly when he tells you how much he paid, making your stomach churn and your gag reflex almost make you retch. “Sorry.” You mumble quietly, looking down at the bag and pulling out the food that he had requested for an at home date. He’s become more closed off since ‘finding his omega’ and you miss the boss that you could ask him anything and get an answer. “Do I need to go see Tommy?” You ask quietly, wanting to know if he needs a resupply on his drugs.

Dieter glances back over his shoulder at Polly. Dieter nods, knowing he needs to restock. “Yeah. Tell him to send an invoice. He knows I’m good for it.” Dieter whispers, not wanting Polly to know he’s still doing drugs. She told him when they were having dinner that he needed to change his drug habit…and his wardrobe.

You nod, although you don’t say anything. Dieter has changed and while you are proud that his drug usage has lessened, he’s not doing it for himself. There will be a moment where he over indulges and you hate that. It’s another reason why you had never let him know that you are his mate, you didn’t want to demand he stop doing what he wanted. “I will arrange it, sir.” You revert back to the more formal interaction, knowing that Polly prefers that. “Will that be all?”

Dieter stares at you for a moment, tilting his head as his stomach twists with something unknown. “Dee Dee, I’m starving.” Polly groans as she walks into the kitchen.

“No. That’s all.” Dieter murmurs and you nod, glancing at Polly who hums at you, narrowing her eyes. You don’t say another word as you leave and Dieter stiffens as Polly’s hand slides down his back.

“I want you, Alpha.” She coos and Dieter sighs, knowing this moment would come and he hopes it’s everything he has heard sex between mates is. He guesses his venture into drugs and multiple partners was in vain to recreate that feeling that so many have described as unlike anything they have ever experienced. Tonight, he’s going to have that with Polly.

Out in your car, you sigh, closing your eyes to hold back the tears that you don’t deserve to shed. You chose this, you let all this happen and Dieter couldn’t be happier with a woman who wasn’t you. His ‘mate’. You think you know what’s going on, but you can’t prove it, and hating that you can’t just go off your suppressants to prove that you are his mate. He would accuse you of manipulating your scent, which is exactly what Polly is doing. “Fuck.” You hiss, leaning back and starting the engine. You need to get away from here before you go back inside and beg Dieter to knot you.

The dinner is cleared away and the TV plays some show but Dieter isn’t paying attention. Polly notices and leans in to kiss him, straddling him, and it progresses from there. Dieter can be a selfish lover, he’s ashamed to admit that, but this is his mate so he goes down on her. Her arousal doesn’t make him ravenous like others have described but he guesses it’s him. He’s killed his taste buds with acid. He makes her cum and then finally, he’s sliding inside of her. His head feels heavy but he kisses her, rocking into her until she clamps down on his cock and he grunts when he cums. No knot. He pulls out of her when he goes soft moments later and she kisses along his chest as she curls around him. He didn’t knot her. He frowns as she coos his name and he doesn’t know what he did wrong.

“That was amazing.” Polly makes sure that her tits are against his chest, her leg thrown over his as she toys with one of his nipples. She's heard a lot of wild things about Dieter Bravo over the years and while he wasn’t as unhinged as she’s heard, maybe it’s because this is the first time. It’s supposed to be romantic. “You are amazing and I’m so glad I’m yours, alpha.”

Dieter hums, turning his head to softly kiss her, his hand sliding along her spine. She’s his omega. He can’t deny that since the agency found her based on her DNA. He is hers and she is his. “Me too.” He murmurs, trying to push aside the feeling that something is off.

****

“So why did you decide to speak to us now? You’ve won seven Oscars. Produced multiple movies. Why did you decide to tell your story?” The interviewer asks and Dieter smiles, “because it’s about her. My omega. I wanted to tell the world and explain what happened. In my own words.” He looks down at his wedding ring with love in his eyes.

****

Dieter hisses your name from across the room. Polly is on the computer in the office across the house, shopping with his card. She’s moved into his home within the past three months and Dieter is happy. He’s happy to have someone to talk to. Even if that person was you before Polly was found. He loves her, he does. She’s beautiful. You walk over to where he’s standing in the kitchen and he opens the cabinet door, pulling a small velvet box from the cereal bowl that never gets used. “What do you think? Think she will like it?” He asks, opening the box.

Your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed in the ring in his hand and you can’t believe how much Dieter has changed. You had expected him to screw up, honestly. You had been there for the end with Anika and Kate, witnessed firsthand the self-destruction that he was capable of. It was one of the reasons you had not admitted your discovery to him. The ring is beautiful and you hate it. You hate that Polly is lying to him and telling him the truth is going to break his heart. “You can’t marry her.” You blurt out, looking up into his eyes. “She’s not your mate.”

Dieter narrows his eyes, “what did you just say?” He hisses, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Polly isn’t nearby, that she hasn’t come into the room.

“She - she isn’t your mate.” You stammer at the look in his eyes as he glares at you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Questioning my mate? How fucking dare you.” He hisses, “you’re just jealous. Is that it? Because you’re alone and you haven’t found anyone. Fuck, I can’t - you are fired.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, unable to believe that Dieter just fired you. You’ve been with him for years. “Dieter-“ he shakes his head and holds his hand out.

“Give me your keys.” He demands, his voice rough with anger. “Please- just listen to me-“ he cuts you off.

“I don’t want to hear it!” He shouts, chest heaving with fury. “You’re jealous that I’m happy, that I found my mate!” He yells. “That you don’t even have a mate, since you’re nothing but a Beta.”

Your chin trembles, never imagining Dieter would insult you for his (wrong) idea that you are a beta. “Fine.” Tears are pooling in your eyes and you dig into your pocket to pull out your keys. “Don’t blame me when you are miserable.” You hiss. “Or when you are fucking unhappy when you can’t knot her. Because she’s not your mate.” You slap his key into his palm and start to gather your things.

Dieter falters because he didn’t knot Polly last night or any night before that. How the fuck did you know that? He stares at you and clenches his fist around the key. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head, “get the fuck out. I can’t - she’s my mate. She’s my omega. How dare you argue that.” He growls and hates that you leaving is more upsetting than him not being able to knot Polly.

You sadly shake your head and sigh. “I’ve never had anything but your best interests in mind, Dieter.” You remind him quietly. “I hope you are blissfully happy with your ‘omega’.” You turn around and walk towards the door without saying anything else. You will have to call his manager and let him know, Dieter will need another assistant. You open the door and pause, looking back at the handsome alpha. “Goodbye, alpha.”

Dieter watches you go, his heart aching from losing you. You're not only his assistant but also his friend. "Good riddance." He tells himself as he sets the key down just as Polly appears with a smile on her face.

"Hey baby." She coos, leaning in to kiss him and Dieter sighs, barely able to kiss her back. Polly pouts as she pulls back and runs her fingers through his hair. She needs to make him cut it, he looks better with it shorter. And to take that ridiculous earring out. “What’s the matter, baby?” She asks, pressing up against him. “You look sad. Can I cheer you up, somehow?”

Dieter turns his head to press his lips to hers. Maybe he was in his head last night. He slides his tongue against hers, deciding that he will be taking her to bed again. “You can cheer me up by letting me make my little omega cum.” He murmurs against her lips and she giggles, grabbing his hand to drag him into his bedroom. The ring is still in the drawer and he will give it to her in the next few days. He wants this. He wants to be settled.

****

“I was afraid of that.” Dieter’s longtime manager, Martin, sighs on the other end of the line. “His…omega has made comments about being ‘uncomfortable’ having an unattached Beta being his assistant.”

You grit your teeth, wanting to tell him that you aren’t a beta and that Polly was a fucking scheming liar. Except you will just look pathetically jealous. “I’ve updated his calendar, but I guess I need to mail the laptop and the phone to you.” You tell him. “Unless you want me to drop it by?”

Martin really hates losing you. You managed to keep Dieter on schedule and on time. “Yeah. I guess you can mail it. Use the card and put the card in there too.” He says, rubbing his cheek. “You know he wants to marry her?” Martin asks and you hum, trying to not let your feelings show through. “I think it’s a mistake.” Martin admits, “but you can’t deny biology.”

****

“So how was the proposal? When you asked her to marry you?” The interviewer asks and Dieter smiles softly, “it was perfect. I couldn’t have planned it better and when she said yes…I swear my heart was gonna explode.” He sighs and the interviewer chuckles at the look on his face. “I was the same with my omega.”

****

“Will you marry me?” Dieter asks as he kneels down in front of Polly. The display on a private beach is all for her. The display of roses, the sign, the fireworks, the candlelit dinner. All for his omega.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Polly squeals and Dieter grins, standing up to kiss her. She wraps her arms around his neck and he breathes her in, that smell that has become familiar to him but doesn’t feel like home. Not like he’s been told. He ignores that and poses for the photos that will be published in the magazine. “Give them something and they will leave you alone.” His PR girl, Sally, told him when he protested having the engagement photos published. They will be printed tomorrow for the world to see.

You groan as you close the page on your phone, unable to stomach the sight of that smiling little fake, the gorgeous diamond ring gleaming in the photo as she caresses his chest. You’ve done a little research on Polly and she’s a failed actress. She’s been obsessed with Dieter and you think that she’s somehow gotten the agency to tell Dieter that she’s his mate. It’s frighteningly easy to clone the pheromones for a mate and they even do gland implants for those that wish to be an Omega and aren’t. You can’t help yourself and open the article again, looking at Dieter closely. Wondering if you are just imagining the uneasy edge to his eyes.

****

Dieter stares in the mirror, his hair cut shorter than he likes, and he sighs, wondering who it is staring back at him. Ever since he proposed to Polly three months ago, he’s gotten whiplash from how fast the wedding was planned. He barely got a say in the wedding plans after he paid for her to hire a planner and now here he is. His tux is pristine and he brushes down the non existent dust. So different from the man who would wear stained and hole ridden sweats. He still hasn’t knotted Polly. She said it could be because of the drugs so he’s given up everything but weed and the occasional molly.

He invited you, wanting you to be here even if you are upset. He hasn’t spoken to you since that fateful day and he hopes he can reconcile with you. His chest has been aching since the day you walked out the door.

The invitation sits like a spector, mocking you as the elaborate gold leaf script announces the union between Dieter and Polly. An ‘amalgamation of love between an alpha and his omega’. The description makes you want to throw up. Still, you are touched that you received an invitation, feeling like it’s Dieter’s way of extending an olive branch. There’s no way Polly would have invited you willingly. You think about your closet, wanting to be well dressed while you witness your mate marry someone else.

****

“It sounds like a true romance between you and your leading lady. So, how was the wedding day? Everything you both dreamed of?” The interviewer asks Dieter who sighs with fondness of his memory of the day.

“It was perfect. We declared our union in front of the world and it was intimate and everything I wanted.” He admits, “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since we ever married. What is the anniversary? Tin?” Dieter asks the interviewer who nods, “and the traditional gift is a diamond.”

Dieter chuckles, “oh I know. I got her a beautiful new ring.” He says, proud of himself.

****

“I’m sorry ma’am, you aren’t on the guest list.” You frown at the security and reach into your clutch to pull out your invitation.

“I have an invitation, right here.” You protest, showing them your name on the heavy card stock. “I can show you my license, I’m not crashing the wedding, I’m invited. I used to be Dieter’s assistant.”

The larger man shakes his head and shrugs. “I guess you’ve been uninvited. No one gets in that isn’t on the list. By order of the bride.”

You hiss in annoyance and take a deep breath. “Then I guess that I got dressed up for nothing.” You smile and turn from doors and walk back towards your car, wondering if there’s another way to talk to Dieter before the ceremony.

Dieter adjusts his cufflinks that Polly picked for him. She picked the most expensive thing for every detail of the wedding. It’s not like Dieter couldn’t afford it but he didn’t get to decide anything. It’s also being filmed for Vogue. Something that Dieter was against but Polly begged him and he couldn’t deny his mate. His mate. It sounds wrong but how can he deny biology?

Sneaking around the side of the building, you have slipped your shoes off because the heels are killing you and grabbed a bouquet of flowers to bring in, like you are a part of the florists crew. The staff is hurrying around and some of them throw you a grateful look as you set down the beautiful place setting where the others are clustered. Slipping down the halls to try to find Dieter.

Dieter exhales when the wedding planner comes over to tell him it’s nearly time. He sighs and adjusts his bow tie just as he looks over at the French doors in his groom’s suite. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there, heels in hand. He opens the doors and he gasps, “what are you doing here?”

“Dieter..” You drop your shoes and rush towards him. “You can’t marry Polly. She’s not your omega, she’s lying.” You stress, trembling with fear that he will just throw you out. “I know she’s not your mate, because I’m your real omega.” You had stopped taking your suppressants after Dieter fired you, letting your true scent come out as your glands started working again.

Dieter’s jaw drops and then he inhales. It hits him like a train. Your scent. More concentrated than Polly’s and more delicious. His cock hardens and his heart is pounding as he takes another breath. “What - how - but Polly- she?” He chokes, confused and torn. He wants to rip your clothes off right now. He closes his eyes, rubbing them to try and stop his head pounding.

“She lied to you.” You tell him quietly. “She had a gland transplant.” You had researched the procedures and you are sure that’s what she’s done. “I- I knew you would hate that your assistant was your mate, so I didn’t say anything when you used the agency. I thought they would never find me.”

He is so confused. You smell delicious but how does he know you’re not lying? The thought makes his stomach twist and he inherently knows it’s not true. “Why didn’t you - shit. She / the agency and Polly. How - I don’t understand.” His chest tightens and he starts to shorten his breath as his mind goes foggy.

“I don’t know how she did it, but she got them to lie to you.” You step forward, biting your lip. “I tried to tell you, I didn’t know how.” You admit quietly. “When I tried, you fired me. I thought you were happy, that you enjoyed still having that freedom that comes with not being with your mate.”

Dieter feels like he’s going to throw up. Your scent wafts over him, his cock hard in his pants and he shifts to sit down on the end of the bed in the groom’s room. He heaves, trying to process the mess he’s made by buying into Polly’s lies.

He squeezes his eyes and that’s when you sing. “When I get older, losing my hair. Many years from now. Will you still be sending me a Valentine?” He opens his eyes, shocked that you’re singing his song. His comfort song. “Birthday greetings bottle of wine. If I'd been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door?” You sing and stand in front of him. “Will you still need me, will you still feed me?” You sing and he raises his head and sings along with you “when I'm sixty-four.”

His eyes are wide, “how - how did you know - that song?” He chokes, his heart pounding in his chest.

“It’s your favorite song.” You whisper quietly. “You listen to it when you think no one is around. When you’re feeling lonely.” Swallowing harshly, you shake your head. “I fucked up, Dee.” You admit. “I was so convinced you didn’t actually want to find your mate that I didn’t trust you with the truth. It’s hurt so badly to deny what I need, on the basic, biological level.” You close your eyes. “If you love Polly, really love her and want her to be yours, I’ll leave.” You promise. “You’ll never see me again. You can have your happy future. I just-“ your eyes open again and you find his dark conflicted ones. “I want my alpha to be happy.”

Your words hit him like a brick wall and he stares at you. You stare back for a moment until you think you have your answer and you turn to leave. Dieter’s hand reaches for yours and he pulls you down into his lap, his nose buried in your scent gland so he can breathe you in properly. You’re his. His omega. He can’t get enough, inhaling your scent and he kisses your skin, making you whimper. That’s when he can’t hold back. His lips find yours and he cups the back of your neck, pressing you against him so he can slide his tongue into your mouth.

The shiver that runs through you is powerful, your body lighting up in pleasure as his tongue flicks inside your mouth. Nipples hardening and your cunt starting to get soaked from the scent of your alpha and the electricity that runs through your body as he touches you. Moaning quietly as you immediately submit to him, whining slightly when his fingers press against your glands at your wrist.

It’s indescribable how you feel, how he feels. Your scent clouding his senses and he can’t seem to get enough of you. His tongue slides against yours and his hands slide down to grab your waist, pulling you to straddle him and his cock is throbbing as you grind down against him. “Fuck. Omega.” He pants, “my omega.” He murmurs, his body recognizing you in a way it never recognized Polly.

You are caught up in it for a moment. Your heart racing with pure joy that he recognizes you, he sees that you are his mate. “Dee, Dieter-“ you pant as you pull away from him, aware that he is still technically engaged to another woman. “We - we can’t. You’re still- Polly.” Despite her deceit, you aren’t the kind of woman who betrays.

He pants, resting his forehead against yours. “Shit.” He hisses, knowing he has to go out there and tell the world Polly isn’t his omega. “Baby, I have an idea. Revenge. A dish best served cold.” He smirks and cups your cheek, “I have a plan.” He declares, “I am going to wait for her to walk down the aisle and tell her what I know.”

“You are?” Your eyes widen dramatically and you know how embarrassing it will be for her to be exposed to the world like that. She deserves it though, she knows that she’s not his mate and she tricked him. “Dee- that means people will be asking how you didn’t know. Questioning that you didn’t knot her before now.”

Dieter nods, “I know. I’m going to tell them the truth. I thought I’d taken too many drugs that I couldn’t knot anyone. That could still be the case.” He warns you, “I just don’t know how she managed to fool me with your scent. How did she know? How did she get the agency to believe she was my mate?” He asks, pondering the situation while his hands caress you, comforted by your presence.

“I don’t know.” That’s the part that you haven’t figured out, no one at the agency would talk to you now that you aren’t Dieter’s assistant. “But I’m sure that you can find out, especially since you will be damaging their company image.” Your fingers sink into his hair and you scratch his scalp gently. “You cut your hair.” You hum. “I like it longer.”

He scoffs, “Polly likes it shorter.” He hates that he changed for her. “Come on, I have a wedding to ruin.” He smirks and helps you off his lap. “After it’s over, I want you, omega. For as long as you’ll have me.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek just as the doors open and the wedding planner walks in. Her eyes widen at the sight of you and Dieter so close and he lowers his hand. “We ready?” He asks, his back straightening and his voice taking on the alpha edge that he rarely uses.

You shiver slightly at the command that he has in his voice and you know that it’s inevitable that Dieter will have you tonight. You still wonder if he has ever wanted you or if it’s just because of your biology, but you can talk about this later. Right now, you have to stop Polly from scamming your alpha.

The wedding planner looks down at your bare feet and she looks back at Dieter who narrows his eyes at her, “we are ready.” He repeats and the wedding planner nods, jarred by his commanding tone, and they escort him through the halls. Dieter walks down the aisle without finesse, his hand holding yours and he sits you down on the front row, ignoring the murmurs and curiosity from the crowd. Half of whom he doesn’t even know who they are. He adjusts his jacket and stands straight, waiting for Polly to make her entrance.

You turn to look at her, having to admit that she looks beautiful. Her smile is beaming and bright as she walks serenely down the aisle. Obviously happy to be the center of attention. Until she spots you. She freezes for half a heartbeat and then her smile turns slightly wooden. Not that good of an actress as she picks up the pace slightly to meet dieter in front of the priest.

Dieter takes her hand when she approaches the floral arch that cost Dieter more money than he knows and he offers her an Oscar winning smile. He lets the officiant begin, speaking about the sanctity of marriage, of mating, and the unbreakable bond between Alpha and Omega. The words are ironic to Dieter but he doesn’t let that show. Cameras taking in his expression and when the officiant asks if anyone knows why they shouldn’t be wed, Polly turns her gaze to you. You remain silent and she narrows her eyes slightly, relieved that you didn’t make a scene. “Do you, Dieter Damian Bravo, take Polene Marie Smith to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The officiant asks and Dieter drops her hands, “no.” He declares and the crowd gasps.

“Dieter. I don’t - what-?” Polly chokes and Dieter scoffs, turning to address the crowd. “This woman is not my omega. She somehow conned the agency I hired to find my mate into putting her forward. She had a gland implant and manufactured the scent of my real omega to fool me into believing she was mine. She’s not. She’s a fraud.” He growls, pointing at Polly.

“That’s not true!” Polly cries, shaking her head furiously and grabbing for Dieter’s hand, but he jerks away from her. “I am your Omega! I am! I have always been yours, from the moment I met you, saw you, I knew you were my mate!” She presses her fingers to her scent gland and holds it out to him. “This is real, my scent - it’s your mates!” She technically is right but you scoff and shake your head.

Dieter rips his hand from hers, shaking his head, “you’re right. It is my mate’s but that isn’t you. It’s her.” He points to you on the front row and the crowd gasps again. “You’re not my omega. Fuck, I couldn’t knot you. I thought there was something wrong with me but it’s you. It’s not me. You’re not my omega.” Dieter hisses and the crowd murmurs as shock ripples through the crowd.

Your eyes widen when he admits to the world that he hadn’t knotted her. The fact that this is being broadcasted live because of her obsession with Dieter’s fame means that there is no way that this scandal is going to be swept away. “How did you do it?” You demand. “Did you trick the company, or did Omega Finder knowingly scam a rich and famous client?”

Polly slumps, knowing the jig is up. Tears in her eyes as she looks at you then her eyes slide over to Dieter. "I have loved you since you were in Hunger Strike. I knew you were mine. I just needed to get close to you. My friend started working at Omega Finder and he - he messed up so I blackmailed him. Made him match me with Dieter in the system. I got a gland transplant when he found out who Dieter's actual omega is and I - I copied the scent listed. I am a beta. I just - I love you so much." She chokes, stumbling towards Dieter but he shakes his head, stepping away from her in shock.

You close your eyes in relief that she has admitted it. Now no one will think that you are somehow tricking Dieter. You sigh quietly and step forward, reaching for your alpha and placing a hand on his chest. “Since Omega Finder messed up, I’m sure they will give your money back,” you tell him, sure the company will face major backlash.

Dieter wraps his arm around your waist, “I don’t care about the money. They did end up helping me find my omega in the end.” He offers you a smile and leans in to kiss you softly. Polly sobs, throwing her veil down on the floor and she rushes down the aisle followed by her bridesmaids. Dieter caresses your cheek and inhales your scent, not tainted by chemicals. “Since the wedding is all set up…would you like to marry me?” He asks, “I know this isn’t what you picked out but I want to be joined to you in every way.”

“It is a little gaudy for my taste.” You admit with a small laugh. “More formal, but I don’t care about that.” You reach up and caress his cheek. “I’ll marry you now, alpha. I don’t want anything more than you.” You know that he can be immature and needy, but he is also kind and loving. The yearning in his eyes for you makes your heart melt.

Dieter grins, leaning in to kiss you once more until he pulls back and addresses the chattering crowd. “I know you all came here today expecting me to marry my omega and plans have changed but the reason for you all coming here today hasn’t changed. I am going to marry my omega. If anyone wishes to leave, please do it now because in five minutes, this gorgeous creature will be mine in the eyes of the state of California.”

You turn towards dieter as everyone starts to chatter amongst themselves. You know people will talk, and leave the wedding. Mostly Polly’s family and friends but a lot of people will stay merely to be curious. “I know it’s not a wedding dress, but this is okay?” You ask, gesturing to your outfit.

"You look fucking gorgeous. You always do. I know that I didn't treat you the best and I - I have learned a lot of lessons from this faux mating. You have always been gorgeous and I noticed but I was terrified to lose the best woman I've ever known. You are an incredible assistant and I didn't want to overstep and lose you so I never mentioned that I thought you were gorgeous and smart and funny and so, so sexy." He rambles slightly, unsure now that the drama is over.

You laugh at how ridiculous you both have been. “And I didn’t think you ever even looked at me that way.” You admit, smiling broadly. “I was afraid that you would be disappointed I am your omega, so when I found out, I didn’t say anything. I have always thought you are sweet, goofy, funny.” You promise. “But I also believe that you are a good alpha. You strive to not dominate, but you still have so much strength. It’s sexy, you’re sexy, but you know that.”

Dieter flushes slightly at your words and he reaches for your hand, bringing your wrist to his nose so he can breathe you in. “Fuck, you smell good. I bet you taste delicious.” He murmurs, kissing your pulse. The wedding planner, frazzled, comes over with a wedding license for you to sign. You should have your passport but Dieter can pull strings.

You sign your name eagerly, unable to believe that this is happening. You had thought you would have to watch your alpha marry someone else. Watching as Dieter signs it too and hands it back to the wedding planner. “Let’s get married!” He shouts, making the crowd of wedding attendees laugh. You wish you had put on your shoes, but it doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters but you and Dieter bonding and mating.

The officiant settles everyone down and you and Dieter hold hands as he begins his speech, modified for this new twist. "I gotta say I have never done a mating ceremony like this." He chuckles and the crowd laughs. Dieter only has eyes for you, his focus on you as he repeats the vows and when the officiant asks for the rings, Dieter shakes his head. "I don't want her to have that ring." He says, gesturing to the gaudy ring Polly picked out. He reaches up to take his necklace off, a small delicate ring looped through it. "This was my mother's. I want you to have it. I'll get you a proper ring later." He promises, sliding the ring onto your finger.

“It’s beautiful, Dee.” You promise, knowing that while it may not be flashy, its sentimental value makes it priceless. Instantly falling in love with it. You bring his hand up and kiss his knuckles, “I will keep it safe for our son or daughter to have one day.”

His grin is blinding and he kisses the back of your hand. You slide the ring he picked out onto his finger and moments later, the officiant declares you husband and wife. Dieter wastes no time surging forward to press his lips to yours.

Dieter’s lips pressed to yours makes every nerve in your body light up. Feeling like electricity is coursing through your body and you cling to him while the audience starts to clap and cheer for you. You don’t even care that the entire thing is being televised, just that you are where you belong.

Dieter pulls back and grabs your hand, guiding you down the aisle and you are still barefooted. When you are alone in the hall, he grabs your waist and presses you against the wall, his mouth descending upon yours once again.

Your hand curls around his neck as you drag him impossibly close. Moaning when his tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours. It’s completely overwhelming and beautiful. Feeling his cock harden against your hip, you whimper as you imagine actually taking him, your alpha, for the first time. “We have- the reception.” You pull away to remind him breathlessly.

He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “Shit. Let’s - let’s have a dance. Have some cake. Then I want to take my beautiful wife to bed.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. He’s excited, his cock throbbing, but he has to be patient. “And I want us to take photos for our kids.”

You can’t believe that Dieter is talking about kids. You’ve never known him to do that, but maybe it’s different with you, his omega. “We won’t stay too long.” You promise. “They can party without us, while we do our own kind of celebrating.”

Dieter smirks, “I like the way you think, baby.” He kisses you again just as the wedding planner comes over to usher you over for photos. You pose with Dieter, knowing these photos will be splashed over every magazine and social media page but you take them with your future in mind. After the photos are done, you and Dieter enter the reception hall to loud cheers and he guides you onto the floor for your first dance. “Don’t worry. I told the wedding planner to make sure the song was changed.” He and Polly didn’t have a song so he let her pick it but now he’s picked out the first dance. “When I get older, losing my hair.” The Beatles begins to play and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and he starts to sing along.

You smile as Dieter coos off key to the lyrics of the song. Not caring about that at all, but the sentiment behind the song. “I love you.” You admit quietly. “I’ve always cared about you, always liked you, but when I found out you were my mate?” You shrug slightly. “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

“Even with the chaos I embody?” He asks softly, swaying you to the song. “I was a mess. An asshole. Fucked whatever I fancied and took any drug I wanted. I don’t want that anymore. Well, maybe weed and the occasional pill but it’s not what I want to live like. I want you. When I sought out the agency, I wanted to settle down, to find my mate, and I found her. I’m all in.” He promises, “all in baby.”

All in. You know that he means that. His eyes are full of excitement and you reach up to brush your fingers through his hair. “I’m all in too. I still want to work, to be your assistant if you’ll let me.” You know he’s hired someone else, but you liked organizing his life.

Dieter nods, knowing he’s selfish but he doesn’t want to find another assistant when you know everything down to his bowel movement schedule. “I don’t want you to leave me alone at work.” He confesses, sliding his hands along your back. “I love you.” He murmurs, pecking your lips when the song ends and the crowd applauds. “You hungry, ‘mega?” He asks, holding your hand.

It feels good to know that he is an alpha that will take care of your needs when you have taken care of him for so long. “I think we should eat.” You admit softly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone and I’m sure that I will go into heat during our honeymoon.”

Dieter holds your chair out at the head table so you can sit down together. He takes his seat moments later and reaches for your hand. “I’ll look after you. No matter what. Tonight-” His hand finds your neck, “I want to make you as mine. My ring on your finger. My mark on your neck. My cum inside of you. My omega.” He growls softly, his dark eyes flashing with possession.

His fingers press against your scent gland and you whine submissively. “Yes alpha.” You agree, slightly breathless at the thought. “I’m- I’m not on anything.” You confess quietly. “No suppressants, no birth control. I stopped them when you fired me.”

Dieter inhales deeply, loving your scent, untainted, and he nods, “that’s okay. I- I’m ready for a child if it happens. Are you?” He asks, “if not, I have condoms.” He says, not wanting you to get pregnant if you’re not ready.

“I want to feel your knot inside me. Just you.” You admit. “No barriers between us.” You don’t mind the idea of Dieter knocking you up the first time you have sex with your mate. It would actually be a really sweet little story for your personal lives.

Dieter offers you that soft, love struck smile that has appeared with the knowledge that you are his omega. “Good.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek just as the food arrives. “Now, eat omega. You’re gonna need it.” He winks at you and digs into his own food.

You hum as people come up to congratulate DIeter while you eat, most of them not even knowing who you are. Your phone is in your car and you know your family will have heard the news. You will have to have a reception with them or something to make up for the spur of the moment wedding.

Dieter knows he needs to speak to your parents after today to explain himself and he hopes your father doesn’t hate him. After you finish eating, you are invited to cut the cake. “I know you didn’t choose any of this, baby. We can have another bonding ceremony.” He promises, “another wedding where you can pick everything.”

“I don’t care about these things.” You admit with a small shrug of your shoulders. “We can do something small, that is more our speed.” You know Dieter would have chosen none of this himself either. Leaning in, you press your lips to his. “All that matters is that we are together. And happy.”

Dieter hums, pecking his lips against yours, “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing it’s true. He didn’t realize it before today but you’ve always been special to him. “You want to bail? They can enjoy the party.” He smirks, kissing your jaw.

You know that you should probably stay, the cameras are still floating through the crowds, the reporters are interviewing any and everyone to get their reactions to the change of plans when it comes to Dieter and it's honestly very on point for him. You grin, pulling away and nodding. "Let's go."

Dieter takes your hand, guiding you towards the back of the room and you giggle as he drags you out of the emergency fire exit door. He chuckles as you both rush outside. You still are barefooted, and he escorts you to the car that was going to take him and Penny back to his house. Dieter opens the passenger door to help you inside before he gets in, the driver off somewhere but the keys are in the ignition. “Let’s go.” He winks, turning the engine and putting the car in drive.

You should be surprised by Dieter basically stealing his own car, but you’re not. Giggling as he speeds off, you know it’s been caught on camera, another crazy story for today. Right now, you just want to be with Dieter. “Is Polly going to be at the house?” You ask suddenly, not wanting a tearful apology or confrontation with the other woman. You don’t care to ever see her again.

Dieter shakes his head, “no. She won’t be at the house.” He promises, “and if she is, I’ll call the police.” He reaches for your hand, caressing his mother’s ring that he placed on your finger.

“Okay.” You nod. “If you had, I was going to suggest my apartment.” You tell him. “I know it’s not as fancy as your house in Sherman Oaks.”

Dieter snorts, "fancy? Like a goddamn status symbol. That's all it is. My apartment when I first moved here had mold. It was bad. We can buy another home if you want? Have you pick it out?" He suggests, "I know a lot of shit has happened in that house."

“Why don’t we figure that out after our honeymoon?” You are thrilled that he is so open to making you comfortable but his past doesn’t bother you. “I don’t mind you having a history, Dee. I know all of it, hell, I witnessed most of it.” You snort. “It’s in the past. That’s the important thing.”

Dieter nods, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it and he loves your scent, breathing you in. It's unfiltered and he realizes that Polly didn't smell this good, it was impossible. He drives back to his house, pulling up on the drive in no time and he cuts the engine after putting the car in park. "Your abode, Mrs. Bravo." He declares after he opens your door.

“Mrs. Bravo.” You hum as he helps you out of the car. “I think I like the sound of that.” You admit, looking down at your bare feet again and laughing. “I can’t believe that I married one of the most famous men with no shoes on.”

Dieter chuckles, "I like it. Didn't I tell you about my foot fetish?" He jokes, taking your hand to guide you into the house. You've been in here a million times but it feels different right now. The reality of finding the person he is meant to be with settles on his chest and he inhales deeply. The door is locked behind him and he steps closer, tenderly cupping your cheeks. "My beautiful omega." He murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

“Alpha.” You murmur softly against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer. Now you get to experience what so many others have giggled and gossiped about. But it’s more than that. It’s mating with your Alpha. “I want-“ you push away slightly so you can think. “I want to suck your cock.” You admit breathlessly. “I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like.”

He groans, having imagined it himself if he’s being honest. High and jerking off while thinking about your mouth wrapped around his cock. “Fuck baby. I want to taste you. Want to claim you as mine for the whole fucking world to see.” He admits, kissing along your jaw. “I’m yours. You want my cock? It’s yours.” He promises against your skin.

You tilt your head. Moaning softly when he nips your skin. “I want to be in your bed.” You tell him. “Our bed, where I’ll make a nest.” You have been feeling the need to make a nest, but without your alpha, there wasn’t a point. You’ve never liked being in one by yourself.

He groans, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass through your pretty dress. “Our bed.” He murmurs, sliding his hands lower to grab your thighs. He lifts you up into his arms and groans when you wrap your legs around his waist and his hard cock presses against your core. “Want you in our bed.” He groans, carrying you through the house to his bedroom.

You love the show of strength. Despite whining about working out for roles and how it doesn’t fit into his life, Dieter is surprisingly strong. Which, it shouldn’t surprise you, honestly. He’s carried plenty of women around during scenes. You kiss along his smooth jaw, surprised he shaved. “Do you like your facial hair like this?” You ask as you kiss, inhaling his own intoxicating scent.

“Fuck no.” He admits, “Polly wanted me to shave it. I hate it. Makes my wrinkles show more.” He confesses as he lays you down on the bed, hovering over you and he shrugs off the suit jacket.

“I like your wrinkles.” You admit shamelessly. “You’ve gotten hotter as you’ve gotten older. Aging like a fine wine.” You tease, biting your lip. “My own Harrison Ford. You can’t deny he has been handsome right through until old age.”

Dieter snorts, “I’ll take your word for it, baby.” He reaches for the hem of your dress. “Do you want to get naked and get your nest ready?” He asks, wanting you to be comfortable this first time.

“Of course.” You don’t have any issue getting naked with him, he’s your alpha. Any insecurities you might have had with anyone else seemingly melts away in the face of this being your biological mate. You pull the dress off of you and reach for your strapless bra, ready to reveal yourself to him.

Dieter sits back, watching you strip off, and his cock is throbbing in his tight pants. He reaches for to unbutton them to release some pressure but his dark eyes are hungry as they take you in. “Fuck, omega, you’re so gorgeous.” He murmurs, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You’ve heard those words before, but they are more potent coming from the alpha who is yours. Making you whine in pleasure as you lift your hips to peel your panties down your thighs. “You’re gorgeous, alpha.” You tell him. “I want to see you. All of you.” It’s not like you’ve never seen Dieter naked. You couldn’t possibly be this man’s assistant for so many years without catching sight of him one or fifty times. This time is different, this time he’s stripping off for you. “Please.”

He nods, shifting off of the bed to take off the restrictive bow tie and he tosses it to the floor before he starts to unbutton his shirt. His eyes take in the sight of your body as he shrugs off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, and he shoves his pants down, hooking his fingers in his boxers to push them down too. “Fuck. Nothing compares to this.” He declares even though nothing has happened yet. It just feels right. He covers your body with his and presses his lips to yours.

You shudder in pleasure, your hands immediately starting to map his body as they roam over his hot skin. The arousal and need pouring off him and mixed with his scent. “Fuck.” You whine, closing your eyes as he kisses down your throat and presses his tongue to your scent gland. “Never felt like this.” You gasp out.

He groans, scraping his teeth over your pulse, “never.” Dieter murmurs, kissing down your clavicle until he is sliding his tongue along the swell of your breast. He cups your breast, lifting it so he can take your nipple into his mouth. His other hand squeezing your other breast.

“Dee!” You arch your back into his touch, thighs shifting apart to let him settle between them. Rubbing your foot up and down his leg as you grind against the hard cock pressing into your skin. “Yes baby, fuck, you- you’re a tit man, aren’t you?”

“I’m an everything man when it comes to my omega.” He murmurs against your skin, switching to your other breast. His hand slides down to squeeze your thigh, lifting it so he can press his cock against your folds. You’re not ready for him yet but the wetness that coats his skin makes him groan into your flesh.

You’ve seen Dieter beg for sex, to be completely debauched and utterly whiny for attention. This man right now is completely in charge. Overwhelming your senses on a mission to touch and learn every part of you. He’s steady and sure in a way that makes you even wetter as he suckles at your breasts and squeezes your flesh. Making you squirm for more underneath him. “Deeee.”

He sucks and bites until your nipples are puffy and stiff and he continues his exploration of your body, kissing down your stomach. His heart hammers in his chest when he gets to your belly, knowing that one day, you’ll be carrying his child. He pushes your legs further apart and gets his first look at your pussy. “Fuck.” He hisses, leaning in to press his nose to your folds, breathing in your heady scent. “How the fuck have I lived without this?” He grumbles and slides his tongue through your folds, groaning at your tangy taste.

You whine his name loudly, your entire body trembling at the first touch of his tongue. You know that Dieter is talented, you’ve heard the rumors. He’s a dick and sometimes selfish, but he makes up for it with his skills. Closing your eyes, you let him do whatever he wants to your body.

He squeezes your thighs, lifting one onto his shoulder so he can push his tongue into your pussy, groaning when you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He loves the way you tug on it and he presses his nose to your clit, wanting to hear you moan his name again.

“Grow it out again.” You beg, tugging on his hair again when he gives you such beautiful sounds. You love his hair a little longer and it’s going to be your favorite thing to tangle your fingers in when you are knotted together with him. “Oh fuck, Dee.” You moan. “I can’t believe you are eating my pussy. I’ve thought about this so much.” You confess breathlessly. “I want to suck your cock too. Feel you at the back of my throat.”

His cock presses against the mattress, leaking pre-cum from the thought of you sucking his cock. He pulls back for a second, his chin shiny with your slick, and his fingers slide inside of your tight pussy. “I’ll grow it out again.” He promises, “and you can have whatever you want, omega. Whatever you fucking want.” He promises then leans down to wrap his lips around your clit.

Your wail of pleasure is loud, unrestrained. Free to be however you want with Dieter, you know he loves the praise and you give it to him so willingly. His thick fingers feel so good, stretching out your walls and you know his knot will feel even better when he’s finally inside you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Dieter, baby, my alpha.”

He loves hearing you call him Alpha. A designation that not many believed he had. Apparently he gives off “omega” energy because he’s whiny but that’s not accurate. He might be demanding but his mother always raised him to be spoiled, giving him whatever he wanted. He never had to command anyone to give him anything. He groans and curls his fingers, loving the praise, and he sucks harder on your clit, wanting more.

On and on, the moans and praises pour out of your mouth as he works you up. Feeling high off the endorphins, you wonder if this is what Dieter is chasing with his pills. Your body pulls taunt, a clear warning that you are about to cum. Making him growl into your folds and press his fingers against that spot inside you that makes you instantly break. “Dieter!” You cry out, thighs shaking around his head as you unravel.

He works you through it, reveling in the first orgasm he’s given his omega. He pumps his fingers until you’re pushing on his head so he presses kisses to your thighs, waiting until you relax around his digits. “So fucking beautiful, omega.” He murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and he wraps them around his cock as he shifts to his knees between your legs, needing to release some pressure.

His chin is slick with your juices and you love the way his short curls stick up in all directions. The smell of need and desire is thick between you and he has never smelled more delicious. “Knot me.” You beg, spreading your thighs wider. “Alpha…I need your knot inside me. I want you to mark me. Mate me so the rest of the world knows I’m yours.”

Dieter nods, his heart pounding in his chest and his aching at the thought of finally getting to have you like this. He shifts to hover over you, bracing himself on one arm as he guides his cock to your dripping entrance, positioning himself there, he starts to slowly push inside of you. His eyes fixed on yours, he inhales sharply at how you feel squeezing his cock.

Eyes blowing wide, you feel everything. Every ridge of his cock scraps against your sensitive walls, your entire body leaping in delight that your Alpha has slipped inside you. Making you moan loudly as he pushes in inch by inch. “Alpha….Dieter….oh fuck, it’s so good. I’ve never felt like this before.” You’ve had sex, alphas and betas alike but it’s never been this good before.

Dieter can’t even speak. His heart feels like it’s about to pound out of his chest and he can’t believe he has you like this. His omega, his mate, beneath him and taking his cock. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for. He chokes and leans down to press his lips to yours, his cock twitching inside of you.

When he kisses you, it’s like you’ve become ravenous. Kissing him back passionately and feeling like you can’t get enough of him. Wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding up to make him push even deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix and it’s the most pleasurable sharp stab you’ve ever experienced. Almost painful, but so incredible at the same time, making you gasp into his mouth around his tongue.

He pants into your mouth, the kiss is sloppy but unbelievably sexy to him. He slides his tongue against yours, his hand squeezing your thigh as you cling to him. His other hand finds yours, the ring that proclaims you as his on your finger and soon, you’ll bear his mark on your neck. He rocks into you as slow as he can manage but it’s hard when he’s so overwhelmed.

“Fuck.” You pant, every thrust filling you so completely that tears prick your eyes and you are blown away by the emotions that rocket through you. “I love you.” You whimper, tilting your head and exposing your scent gland to his teeth. Submitting to him completely.

He feels the alpha part of himself take over, a growl escaping his lips as he leans closer to scrap his teeth along your scent gland. This is something he never felt the need to do with Polly, figured it was something he’d feel when they were married but right now, he doesn’t care about the ring on your finger, he only cares about primally making you his. “I love you.” He declares and sinks his teeth in, claiming you as his omega forever.

You cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain rushes through you, along with the heat of being claimed. You had heard it is a moment that completely possess you, but you hadn’t believed it. Now that it’s happening, all you can think about is Dieter, your alpha, and his claim on you. His teeth buried in your gland, you start to cum around his cock.

He groans against your flesh, “you’re fucking incredible.” He says as he laps at your new bite and he loves the way you grip his cock inside of you. He can feel his knot swelling now and it’s harder to thrust into you but he presses his lips to yours.

Your nails dig into his back, whining when you feel the pressure of his knot start to fill you. “Oh god, fuck, please.” You beg. “Knot me. Fuck I want it, I want it so badly, baby. Please alpha, I want to take it.” Your hips rock up, eager to take the thick knot inside you, locking you together while he floods your womb with his seed. “Fuck, Dee!”

His grunts fill the bedroom, sweat beading on his brow and he roars when he cums, his knot locking in place inside of you while he paints your walls with hot seed. “Fuckkk.” He roars, eyes squeezed shut as the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced hits him hard.

He shudders and shakes above you, looking amazing as he fills you with a flood of warm cum. Making you moan again, biting your lip at the sensation and you clench down around the thick knot that is firmly embedded inside you. The final proof that you are an omega, his omega. You knew it all along, that he hadn’t knotted her, but there’s a sweet relief in proving to him that it was because Polly wasn’t an omega and not because there was something wrong with him. “Dee, fuck, that’s-“ you pant softly, smiling at the sensation.

He’s relieved he knotted you. He was worried that he’d taken too many drugs and he couldn’t knot anyone. He pants, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, “I love you, baby. Mine. My omega.” He coos, wanting to comfort you in this moment.

“Fuck.” You whimper and smile as he kisses your skin. “My alpha. You’re so good. Did you like it?” You ask, stroking his back lovingly while he settles into your embrace.

He sighs, shifting onto his back, mindful of your connection, so you can lay on his chest. His hand slides along your spine, a smile on his face. “I loved it. I loved you. Never ever felt like that before.” He confesses, “I’m so fucking happy to came to me before I married that psycho. My brave omega.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead.

“I couldn’t let you do it without knowing the truth.” You murmur softly. “If you didn’t believe me, rejected me, I could live with that. As long as you knew what you were doing. She was taking that chance away.” Your fingers trace a tattoo and you sigh softly. “But I’m happy you believed me.”

He hums, “me too. I know I haven’t been the best boss in the past but I promise you that I will be the best Alpha. I wanted to settle down and I wanted to find my mate. I found her and I want to be the best husband I can be.” He reveals, “I love you. So much.” He murmurs, “I just didn’t realize how much until today.”

“You’re a good man.” You remind him softly, just like you have many times before when he’s been wallowing in self pity. “You will be an amazing alpha, I know it.”

****

“So you have been married to your beautiful wife for ten years. The whole world watched as you exposed Polly who we hear is now married to another beta. Yet, you still got your happy ending with your omega.” The interviewer says and Dieter nods, offering the interviewer a smile, “she’s incredible. My rock. I couldn’t have won my Oscars without her.” Dieter confesses with affection.

“Knock knock.” You knock on the door to the family room where Dieter is being interviewed. “I’m sorry to interrupt. The kids wanted to see their daddy.” You confess and your three children rush over to Dieter. Aged three, six, and nine.

“Daddy! Guess what?” His eldest son clambers over Dieter and he gestures for you to come and sit down.

“What, my love?” He asks his son while his six year old daughter wraps her arms around his neck. Your three year old son struggles to get onto the sofa so you pick him up while your eldest tells Dieter about his dinosaur project at school.

“The perfect family.” The interviewer coos and Dieter nods, leaning over to kiss your lips.

“We aren’t perfect but it’s my family and to me, they are perfect.” Dieter declares on camera. The interview is aired a week later during prime time and Polly watches while she sits beside her husband who tricked her into believing he was a rich man but it’s his mom who had money. She scoffs, turning the TV off while her husband snores, head tilted back against the sofa. She got her karma and you got your alpha, much to Dieter’s delight. He wanted to find his omega and he did, he just didn’t realize she had been in front of him the entire time.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo the bubble #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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astarion-obsessions · 2 years ago

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Hold on, there is something I thought about. When Astarion approached Tav with "all his favourite lines" of flattery, leading to fake confessing his love to them, I was genuinely hurt to see that he would play with Tav's feelings like that, just for the sake of entertainment.

But now that their relationship progressed and Astarion actually confessed that he developed feelings for Tav, but still claims to not know how he would define their relationship, I get the feeling that he made the choice to fake confess beforehand for another reason than entertainment or seduction altogether. Hear me out.

Why does Astarion fake confess his love to Tav?

When I get a scene with Astarion, I always reload a thousand times to try out all the routes and see all his reactions, so what I'm about to break down will be no less than heartbreaking.

First let's take a look at what Astarion has to say. He starts the conversation with a clear goal in mind: he wants to seduce us again and he says so right away. He continues with very openly displaying his skills at charming people with honeyed words, seemingly enjoying himself while doing so. But what we have to keep in mind is that he's done that thousands and thousands of times already. I think it's safe to assume that he's perfected this mask of a smug, flirtatious man enjoying all this debauchery.

But after giving us one suggestive line after another, he does something that does not match the tone of the conversation so far: his fake love confession. I mean, just look at him.

He goes from completely exaggerated facial expressions and gestures:

When I'm with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again with you.

To this:

I love you

We get a closeup of his face and see that he gets serious all of a sudden despite the fact that the conversation has been all fun and flirty just a moment ago. He draws his brows together, tells Tav "I love you" and then just looks at us with this serious and almost sad expression. Completely different from before when he was just toying around.

And yes, I just said he's very practiced in playing pretend, but just the difference between shallow and cheesy lines about craving to die together and their perfect body whispering temptation in contrast to a simple "I love you" and then on top of that the difference on how he conveys it - for me it just doesn't fit together, this isn’t Astarion pretending. And furthermore he gains nothing from adding this confession. The flirty lines would have been enough to seduce Tav once again and therefore ensure their attachment to him, so that his protection is granted. And that is all he wants, at least in the beginning.

But then, why would he voice this fake confession in the first place? And that's where my theory sets in. I don't think he would risk the trouble of getting more feelings involved than necessary in his "nice simple plan" - seducing Tav, sleeping with them, manipulating their feelings. For doing so, he simply wouldn't need a love confession.

With saying "How about I say those little words. Everyone's favourite" he already suggests that he's said them to a lot of people already. And this surely is a way to charm and seduce people very fast, but with Tav he doesn't need to rush. They're tied together for an indefinite amount of time, he doesn't need to seduce them in a matter of hours or days before serving them to his master. And he's already seduced Tav successfully before, so my guess is this:

My explanation for the fake confession

The real confession scene, where he admits to having started to genuinely feel something for Tav, came a bit out of nowhere for me. (And don't get me started with our options to react to his real confession. I talked about that here.) I don’t think he would just willingly tell Tav that he's grown fond of them, when a few nights before he threw the fake confession their way without giving a damn about Tav's feelings - that just felt very out of character for him in my opinion.

But what if he started to fall in love with Tav even before the fake confession? Think about it, he has slept with Tav once - successfully seduced - so all he has to do is sustain this kind of relationship. Saying all his favourite lines at Tav and trying to get them to sleep with each other for a second time would have been just that - sustaining the relationship at present. But then he says "I love you". And I say he does so purposefully. It's a test. Having someone like you enough to sleep with you is one thing. Having deep and complex feelings like love involved is something else entirely. So he tests the waters with this confession. He hides behind all of these flirtatious lines and places the confession at their end to throw a veil over its real meaning.

It may be a lie either way - saying it just for entertainment or saying it to see if Tav is open for deeper feelings - but I think he exaggerates on purpose to trigger a reaction that speaks for itself. Does Tav care about these words? Is Tav hurt to see that Astarion is apparently willing to play with their feelings like this? Or do they not care about such vanities?

I want to emphasise the fact that Astarion hasn't had the luxury to allow himself anything resembling these kinds of feelings for at least two centuries. Naturally, he would not just come around and open up his heart to Tav when all he's done until then was charming them just for his plan. He would want to reassure himself that this wouldn't turn against him if he dares to show such great vulnerability in front of anyone. He says it himself when he properly confesses that it is intimidating for him to make decisions on his own again. And confessing his feelings is exactly one of those intimidating decisions.

Interpreting Astarion's reaction

To back up my take I want to take a closer look at Astarion's reaction when we reject him after the fake confession. After he laughs the confession off in one way or the other, he insists on having sex with you again. Here he sticks to exaggerated facial expressions and gestures, just like before with his honeyed words.

Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favourite lines at you, I’d much rather we got to experience each others’ full portfolio of talents once again.

But if Tav then turns him down with saying “I don’t think I really want this”, this is his immediate reaction:

Well, well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart.

He takes a few seconds to process what Tav said, and then instantly responds with another exaggeration accompanied by fitting gesticulation, ending with a fake smile. After that he just looks at Tav for another few seconds and his demeanor changes again:

In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back ten thousand times or more, and forgotten half of them.

He loses his fake smile, averts his gaze and starts fumbling with his hands nervously. He can't hide his disappointment, but he tries to keep his face neutral - even if it doesn't work all too well. He tells us we were special before giving us a scrunched fake smile once again. It's really hard to watch…

But you… you I'll remember.

For usually being rather quick to react and respond, we can see how difficult it is for him to react to Tav in this case.

Have a fine evening, dear.

He pauses yet again, lifts his gaze to the sky and just looks so lost. Mere moments ago he was flirting and laughing, and now he seems so utterly desperate. And then, he can't even keep up his attempts of masking his sadness when his expression slips in the end and his face scrunches painfully for just a second before the whole scene ends. This really broke my heart.

Conclusion

This is definitely not the reaction of someone who was turned down for just another round of sex - even if this meant that Astarion's plan of assuring his safety didn't work out. Because then he could have just tried to get Tav to change their mind with another one of his favourite lines. Or he would have at least reacted like he does when you tell him to stay at the camp ("Oh darling, I'm hurt" which he obviously isn't). But he doesn't.

Because this is the reaction of someone who dared to get his hopes up. Someone who thought that maybe, just maybe, these unwanted, complicated feelings for Tav which had slowly crept up, nullifying his nice simple plan, could genuinely lead to a relationship he didn't know he needed so desperately. Someone who is so devastated by a rejection at this point, that he doesn't even question it. He just accepts that Tav isn't interested in sleeping with him, let alone having feelings beyond sexual desire. It's just as it always has been. It's not as if Astarion remembers anyone caring about him, so why should it be different this time…

And that's why I think this whole fake love confession was a way for Astarion to veil his growing feelings for Tav under the pretence of flirting, and had the purpose to find out if he could more or less safely confess his true feelings to Tav.

Gods, this is so heartbreaking. I need to pat Astarion's fluffy head in my dreams as a redemption.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion romance spoilers #astarion meta #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion analysis

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buckysslut · 24 days ago

Note

idk if you do AUs but rockstar bucky bringing a fan backstage to fuck her while he's still coked up (basically lots of debauchery, degradation, and filth pretty please 🥺)

𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

Your moans echo loudly through the dressing room. The slap of skin on skin reverberates. You desperately try to grab onto anything you can, trying to latch onto the dressing table and staring yourself dead in the eyes in the streaky and messy mirror. Never did you think you’d find yourself backstage with your favourite artist. You definitely didn’t predict you’d be getting dicked down by him either. “Fuckin’ slut! So tight, dumb fuckin whore..” He growls, slapping your ass harshly. You squeak in surprise at the mix between pain and pleasure.

In one hand, he held your hip (occasionally removing it to slap your ass) and in the other, he held a cigarette which was held to his lips at present. He took deep drags of it. Whenever he took a drag from the cigarette, his hips would slow down as he allowed the nicotine to course through him. As soon as he was done with each puff he went straight back to fucking you hard. You moan desperately, your mini skirt pushed up and panties discarded god knows where. His hips slap against your ass, fucking you like a rag doll. “You’re such a lucky fuckin’ slut.. you’re lucky you got chosen.. coulda’ picked any of those girls out there.. picked the cheapest whore.. at least you’re tight, I guess..” He grumbles, moaning and grunting between words and thrusts. “Little slut, do anything for some dick, huh?”

IF YOU LIKED THIS, I MASSIVELY RECOMMEND THIS POST BY THE WONDERFUL @magicaloneandmystery !!

(A/N: I’ve never actually written anything like this so i’m not sure if it’s great :/ i apologise if it’s not the best but i tried my best and all i can say is that i hope you enjoy reading!)

@chrisevansleftnipple , @homiesexual-or-homosexual , @httpsells , @avengemepercy , @multiversefanfics , @raikan624

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hungermakesmonsters · 2 months ago

Text

(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Eight

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Some frisky business. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : well, I definitely enjoyed writing this chapter, guess why. 😅 also sorry it got so long

Master List

Chapter Eight

Come Monday morning, it was as if nothing had happened.

You were already at your desk when Billy arrived, he hadn’t offered to pick you up because he’d had a meeting first thing on the other side of the city, so you’d been sitting working diligently for over an hour before the elevator dinged, signaling his arrival. Your cheeks instantly started to heat at the sight of him, his own cheeks pinkened by the cold, and his dark eyes burning with all of their usual intensity.

“Good morning,” he said, shrugging off his coat.

You waited with bated breath, expecting - what, you weren’t entirely sure. Something. Some acknowledgement of the way he’d kissed you, or maybe an explanation of why he’d left so abruptly. Instead, there was nothing.

“Did VDK email yet?” He asked.

All you could do was stare at him as a couple of seconds ticked by.

Had you imagined it? Were you misremembering it?

No. No. He’d never kissed you like that before, never pressed you against a wall as if he wanted to devour you whole.

(He didn’t want to acknowledge it. It had meant nothing to him.)

“Yes,” you finally found your voice. “They want to do it on Thursday, but I - I didn’t accept yet because I know you’re usually busy on Thursday evenings...”

Billy ran his teeth over his lower lip, giving it more consideration than you expected. You hadn’t thought to ask what it was he did on Thursday evenings but, now, you found yourself wondering. What could it possibly be that had him hesitating to agree to the very thing he’d been after for weeks?

“Tell them we’ll be there,” he eventually said.

At some point, he’d come to linger behind you, looking at the email you’d pulled up on your laptop, watching as you diligently started to type up a response.

“Do you have something to wear?” He asked as you hit send.

You glanced up, over your shoulder at him, discomfort clear on your face. You didn’t want him to rush off and buy you another obscenely expensive dress.

“I’ll find something, don’t worry,” you answered.

“If you need to, I can -”

“Billy, it’s fine.”

“Okay,” he relented, leaving it at that.

But, still, he lingered by your desk almost expectantly.

(Did he want you to bring up this kiss? Could you bring it up without dying of embarrassment? No. No, if Billy wanted to talk about it, then he had to be the one to bring it up.)

“Did you have breakfast?” Is what you decided to ask, blurring the line between the part of you that was still his PA and the part of you that now genuinely seemed to worry that he might not have eaten anything that morning.

“No, just piss-awful coffee at the meeting,” he shrugged.

You bit back the comment that you wanted to make, reminding yourself that he was a fully grown man who was more than capable of looking after himself.

“Okay, I’ll go get you a pastry and a coffee,” you told him.

Billy barely moved as you slid back your seat and stood, and you found yourself standing directly in front of him with little space between you. His jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on yours, but you refused to ask why, refused to ask what he expected from you.

If he wanted to talk about the kiss, he’d need to be the one to start. Simple as that.

When you said nothing, he stepped back and turned, not giving you another glance as he slipped into his office.

Okay, so that was how things were going to be. You shook your head and headed for the elevator, forgoing grabbing your coat and wasting time bundling up - you were only running across the street, how bad could it be?

Bad, as it turned out.

And it only got worse from there.

Carl gave you a look as you headed for the doors, but you didn’t realise what the look was for until you stepped out into the bitter cold wind. It was a bad idea, a stupid idea, but it would take far too long to go back upstairs to grab your coat.

Wrapping your arms across your chest, you hurried across the street to The Bean Grinder, your thin blouse and skirt doing little to ward off the cold.

You were shivering as you stood in line and, for one in your life, found yourself glad to be stuck behind so many undecided customers, basking in the warmth of the coffee shop for as long as possible.

The wind was biting on your face as you struggled to hurry back to the Anvil building, Billy’s coffee in one hand and a bag containing a bearclaw in the other. You tried your best to ignore it and pretend like the cold wasn’t causing your lungs to ache in your chest - it was only across the street, you’d be fine, you told yourself.

And you were.

You were fine, but your bad luck still wasn’t over.

“What’s going on?” You asked Carl when you noticed a few people standing around by the elevator.

“Elevator maintenance check,” he explained. “We did send out an email about it last week -”

“Shit, I completely forgot,” you said, letting out an awkward groan.

It wasn’t like you to forget - in fact, you were all but certain you’d even written it on your desk calendar so you wouldn’t forget. But you’d been so eager to get out of the office and away from - from whatever that had been with Billy, that you hadn’t even thought about it.

Carl gave you a sympathetic look. “It’s probably going to take at least another twenty minutes. I can call upstairs, let Mr Russo know that you’re -”

“No,” you interrupted. “It’s fine. I’ll take the stairs.”

“Are you sure?” He asked before hesitating. “You’re already looking a little out of breath.”

“I’m fine. Really. It’s just the cold,” you answered, shrugging it off and saying a hasty goodbye as you headed towards the stairwell, trying not to curse under your breath until you were up at least one floor.

It certainly helped you warm up, but climbing up to the seventh floor caused the ache in your lungs to intensify and, by the time you got back to the office, you were more than a little winded.

Billy’s eyes were fixed on his laptop as you entered his office and he didn’t look up as you approached his desk. It wasn’t until you placed his drink and the paper bag containing the bearclaw down that his eyes finally lifted and confusion filled his face.

You didn’t understand why he was staring until he spoke.

“Are you okay?”

You realised that you were wheezing and, in an act of utter stupidity, you tried to even out your breathing by forcing a deep breath, and that just made things worse. You pressed a hand to your mouth and tried to stifle a cough.

“I-I’m fine,” you managed, holding back a cough. “Just a-a little out of breath.”

He moved before you could even blink, standing and taking hold of your arms, guiding you into his chair. The leather was warm and soft, and you wanted nothing more than to sink back into it but you couldn’t, not when Billy crouched in front of you and took your face in his hands.

His eyes searched yours, though you had no idea what he was looking for.

Billy didn’t speak, nor did he ask you to try to. He just stayed with you, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek as your breathing slowly levelled out.

He held your gaze and you found that, even though you wanted to, you couldn’t look away. You didn’t know what was going on behind those dark eyes, what thoughts were running through his head, but you felt seen, exposed.

Your hand somehow ended up on his, holding it against your cheek like some part of you was scared he’d pull away again, that he’d leave you reeling just like he had the night before.

It didn’t take long for your breathing to settle and your chest to stop aching.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

What’s wrong and not are you okay. It was the second time he’d seen you like this and Billy wasn’t an idiot, he’d obviously realised that there was some underlying cause you weren’t telling him about.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” you lied. “I forgot to put my coat on when I went across the street, and I had to use the stairs because they’re doing a maintenance check on the elevator -”

“You should have waited for them to finish. It only takes them like twenty minutes.”

There was a firmness in his voice that you didn’t expect, that you didn’t appreciate.

“Your coffee would’ve gotten cold,” you answered back, trying to contain your own annoyance.

“Jesus Christ,” Billy muttered, pulling away from you and standing. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away from you for a moment. “Do you think I care about hot coffee when you’re wheezing up a lung in my office?”

You didn’t have an answer for that. Honestly, you had no idea what Billy cared about.

“You skipped breakfast,” you said, not entirely sure why that was what bothered you.

His lips parted but, whatever he’d been wanting to say never came. He looked... confused, like he couldn’t understand why you even cared that he hadn’t eaten. But, he didn’t ask why, and you were glad because you didn’t have an answer.

“Go get your things,” he said after an uncomfortable pause.

“What? Why?” You asked.

“Because I’m taking you home.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you protested, getting to your feet. “I don’t want any preferential treatment or -”

“I can’t work if I’m worrying about you,” Billy snapped.

And -

You were left so stunned that you didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t reconcile what he was saying and how he was acting with what you thought you knew about him, about your ‘relationship’. In no scenario could you imagine Billy actually worrying about you so, of course, you didn’t know what to say.

“I -” you tried.

“Please, just... don’t fight me on this?”

All you could do was stare, rendered speechless by the pleading look on his face. You didn’t want to leave work early and you certainly didn’t need to, but seeing Billy looking almost distressed by it all left you feeling like you couldn’t refuse.

You took a moment to consider him, to consider everything you knew about him, both as your boss and as a person. Only a few weeks ago, you’d have known exactly how to temper his mood and get the day back on track, but this was something new, something different. You didn’t understand this.

“The elevator’s still out of order,” was all you could think to say.

But, still, you moved, making your way out of his office to collect your things. You dropped your laptop into your bag, deciding that you’d carry on your work from home - with or without his permission. As you pulled on your coat, you heard him on the phone, calling down to the lobby to ask if the elevator was working again.

You perched on the edge of your desk as you waited, silently cursing yourself for letting all of this happen. You should’ve worn your coat, should’ve waited for the elevator - or at least remembered that it was being checked before offering to go for coffee.

Billy’s phone rang and, a few seconds later, he was striding out of his office, pulling on his coat.

He told you to follow and you did, letting him usher you into the now-running again elevator with a hand on your back. Neither of you spoke or even seemed to know what to say as the elevator descended.

All you could think about was whether he’d eaten his bearclaw.

As the doors opened, you just... followed. You moved on autopilot, not sure what else you were supposed to do. The car was already waiting and you were quickly bundled inside. And, still, you remained silent.

The quiet was enough to have your paranoia rearing its ugly head; he thought you couldn’t look after yourself, that you were burdensome.

Neither of you spoke until you were in your apartment, completely alone.

“You’re mad at me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

You watched him as he moved through your apartment like he owned it, heading into the kitchen and grabbing two mugs to make coffee.

“I’m not mad,” you answered, shrugging off your coat and following him into the kitchen. “I just don’t need you to look after me.”

It didn’t even occur to you that you were echoing something he’d said to you only a week before.

“When was the last time you let anyone look after you?”

It wasn’t a jab at you, he wasn’t accusing you of anything, but there was some hidden depth to the question. He was genuinely asking, though from the tone of his voice, he already seemed to know the answer. An answer that you refused to give him.

Never.

Never in your adult life had you allowed someone to look after you.

And you weren’t about to start now, especially not with your boss, the man who was paying you to fake being in a relationship with him.

You let out a sigh and turned away from him, heading towards the sofa. It wasn’t long before he joined you, sitting beside you, a hot mug of coffee in each hand. He handed you yours without a word and you didn’t even dare to think about how he’d not only come to learn exactly how you took your coffee, but where everything was in your kitchen so he could make it.

While you slowly sipped your drink, you both remained silent, neither sure what to say to the other.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Frank Castle’s secretary, and you let out a soft sigh.

“Mr Castle would like to see you before this afternoon’s meeting,” you said, not looking up from your phone.

Then it was Billy’s turn to sigh, and that sigh said more than words ever could. You knew he didn’t want you working, that he’d brought you home specifically to stop you, but you couldn’t because, without you, his day didn’t run smoothly.

He finished his coffee and got to his feet.

“Please at least try to get some rest,” he said, resigned to the fact that you were going to continue working regardless of what he said. “And if you’re not feeling well tomorrow -”

“I told you, I’m -”

“If you’re not feeling well tomorrow,” he repeated, “call in sick.”

“Fine.”

You both already knew that you wouldn’t but it wasn’t worth the argument.

He insisted that you stayed where you were as he let himself out and you were glad, not sure you could handle a repeat performance of last night's kiss by the door.

The next day you were back at your desk before Billy even got to the office, his coffee and pastry, a pain au chocolat today, waiting for him on his desk. He slowed as he walked past you to his office but he didn’t say anything other than a brusque good morning to you.

Fortunately, over the next few days he warmed to you again, seeming to want to pretend that it had never happened. And, while it wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with it, you were more than happy to just slip back into things, deciding to ignore everything from the kiss onwards.

You didn’t spend much time with each other out of work, though that was through no fault of Billy’s. It seemed like every day, something would come up that demanded his attention, keeping him at his desk late into the night and, when you offered to stay late to help him, he’d send you home in his car.

By the time Thursday evening rolled around, you weren’t sure if Billy would be in any fit state for the VDK dinner, but there he was, waiting next to his car by the curb as you stepped outside.

As he had the night of the gala, Billy asked that you pack a bag and spend the night at his apartment and, despite everything, you were more than happy to after waking up that morning to find that the heating in your apartment wasn’t working.

His eyes widened as you approached, taking in the sight of you and what you were wearing. The dress that he’d bought you. He didn’t say anything, didn’t speak at all until you were both in the car and the driver had started the engine.

“I thought you didn’t like that dress,” he said.

“I never said that. I said it was too expensive.”

He was silent for a few seconds before; “I’m glad you kept it, you look amazing.”

You smiled at him, finally taking a moment to appreciate how good he looked, his charcoal suit immaculately hugging his figure and not a dark hair out of place. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought about it, but you found yourself considering how handsome he was as he glanced out the window, but he was only beautiful when he looked at you and smiled in return.

Soon, and for the second time in less than a week, you found yourself outside the VDK Manhattan Hotel. Fortunately, this time there was no fanfare as you approached the doors, no red carpet or lines of photographers but, just like the night of the gala, you entered with Billy’s hand in yours.

You were met by a member of the hotel staff and taken in the elevator up to the penthouse.

Your hand gripped Billy’s as you stepped out into the most lavish looking hotel suite that you’d ever seen - which, admittedly, wasn't saying a lot as you couldn’t remember ever seeing the inside of a hotel suite before, let alone a penthouse suite. It even put Billy’s apartment to shame, but you weren’t given time to really appreciate it.

“There you are, just in time,” Catherine Van Der Koy, said as she approached you, “we were just about to have some drinks before dinner.”

You and Billy both greeted her before you found yourselves being separated.

“William, I believe you’re acquainted with my son-in-law and grandson?” She said, motioning to a group of men sitting on the sofa drinking what looked to be scotch. Billy nodded. “Good, go and have a drink while we catch up.”

He started to move but, for a moment, you were reluctant to let go of his hand. You didn’t want him to leave your side, and you felt his hand squeeze yours in silent apology just before his fingers slipped away.

“Don’t worry,” Catherine said as you watched him go, “they’ve all promised to be on their best behaviour tonight.”

That did nothing to settle your nerves, even though you knew that Billy was more than capable of handling himself. Knowing how some of these people saw him, you didn’t want to leave Billy to face them alone, but Catherine took your arm and led you into the suite’s large dining room where a group of mostly women sat drinking and chatting.

“Have you ever stayed in one of our hotels before?” Catherine asked.

“No,” you answered, feeling your cheeks start to warm, “they’re a little out of my price range.”

“Not any more, I’ll bet,” said an unfamiliar voice.

A young woman stepped in front of you. She had a smirk on her lips and you couldn’t decide if she was joking or if there was something more pointed to the comment.

“This is my granddaughter Leah,” Catherine said.

You introduced yourself but, clearly, it wasn’t necessary. Leah Van Der Koy knew all about you. She had an almost nasal way of speaking that made every comment sound like it was a thinly veiled barb, but you quickly realised that it was just the way she spoke.

Catherine remained silent as Leah brought up things she’d seen on the gossip blogs about you and Billy, pointing out how cute the pair of you had looked together leaving the movie festival you’d attended a couple of weeks ago.

“Leah is in charge of VDK’s social media,” Catherine explained. “She likes to keep her finger on the pulse.”

On the pulse of what exactly, you didn’t dare ask.

“You have no idea how many people are losing their minds over you right now,” Leah told you. “Do you have TikTok or Insta?”

You shook your head, not sure why she wanted to know or why anyone would be losing their minds over you.

“You should get on it,” Leah continued. “With all the attention you’re getting right now, you could make a killing as an influencer.”

It took every ounce of composure you had not to cringe at the thought. Just the idea made you feel ill - you didn’t like the attention and you certainly didn’t want to attract more of it.

“Give me your phone?” She asked and, for reasons you couldn’t even begin to understand, you did. She tapped the screen a few times before handing it back to you. “I put my number in there, let me know if you ever need any social media advice.”

“Leah dear, stop harassing your grandmother’s guest.”

Another woman appeared behind Leah and just one look at her told you that she was Leah’s mother, Catherine’s daughter. They all had the same high cheekbones and delicate noses.

“This is my daughter Faye,” Catherine offered.

Again, you introduced yourself.

“I love your dress,” Faye said. “It looks like a Sophie Harrington piece.”

“Oh, uh -” you stumbled over your words, looking down at yourself as you tried to remember the name of the boutique Billy’ had bought it from, “- I think that was where it came from?”

“Faye has always had an eye for fashion and design,” Catherine explained with a noticeable degree of pride in her voice. “She’s in charge of a lot of the interior design of our hotels.” She then paused and upon noticing your discomfort, waved away her daughter and granddaughter. “Let’s get a drink.”

You nodded as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

The dining room had its own bar and bartender - you didn’t dare ask if he came included in the nightly price of the room, as you already felt like you were embarrassing yourself enough.

“You look positively terrified.”

Her words pulled you back to the moment and the heat across your cheeks intensified.

“Sorry. I’m just -” again you awkwardly swallowed again, “- I’m not really used to... all this.”

“What part of it is bothering you?” She asked, curious and thankfully not offended.

“Big dinner parties with people I don’t know, people who already know me even though I’ve never met them, people knowing more about my dress than I do -”

“Take a breath,” she interrupted.

You realised belatedly that you’d probably sounded like you were panicking or freaking out, and forced yourself to take a slow breath.

“I shouldn’t have worn this dress,” you muttered a moment later.

“Why not?”

“Because Billy bought it for me.” There was no point in lying, everyone there probably knew that there was no way you could have afforded to buy it for yourself.

“What difference does that make?”

“It’s too expensive,” you answered. “Everyone will think I just want Billy’s money.”

Catherine studied you for a moment and then handed you a wine glass. You’d been so lost in your own awkwardness that you hadn’t even realised she’d asked the bartender for a drink for you.

“Does he buy you a lot of things?” She asked.

“No,” you quickly answered. “And I didn’t even want him to buy this. I told him to take it back, but he wouldn’t. I only wore it tonight because he’s had a rough week and I thought it might cheer him up.”

You hadn’t told Billy that was the reason you’d chosen to wear it. Hell, you’d barely even admitted it to yourself. But it had been a difficult week and you’d thought your discomfort would be worth it just to see him smile.

“Did it?” She asked before clarifying. “Cheer him up?”

“I - I hope so,” you said, finding your eyes drifting towards the door, wondering how Billy was getting on.

“It’s not easy - loving someone who gives so much of themselves to their work.”

Your gaze dropped and you bit your lip, a tidal wave of embarrassment washing over you. You were embarrassed by the lie, by how the dishonesty made you feel. That was all. That was what the feeling in your stomach was, and that was why your heart seemed to stutter. It wasn’t that you loved him or that you were in love with him.

No.

While there might have been some feelings of fondness, closeness even, what you felt wasn’t love. And whatever Billy felt for you...

“Oh dear,” Catherine said, pulling you back to the moment, “has he not said the words yet? You mustn’t let that discourage you, men like William speak with actions before words.”

Actions.

Actions like pressing you against a wall and kissing you like his life depended on it?

“Come and sit,” she instructed and, again, you followed her, joining the rest of the group sitting around the table.

You made small talk with the group but, mostly, you were happy to just fade into the background, mostly ignored. After about forty minutes, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom but, instead of returning to the dining room straight away, you found yourself exploring the suite and ending up on the balcony.

It looked out over Central Park - though the low light made it hard to anything beyond the lit paths that weaved through the park, you imagined that the view was stunning during the day.

You hadn’t meant to linger, but the cold night air was a relief and the city noises were calming after the constant chatter and laughter inside.

You didn’t hear someone else step out onto the balcony, you hadn’t even noticed that there was a door besides the one you’d used, but you recognised his voice immediately.

“Little dove,” he muttered softly, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Turning, you watched as Billy approached you.

“What are you doing out here alone?” He asked.

“I -” you started to answer but faltered when he placed a warm hand on your bare arm, “- I just needed to get some air.”

“You’re cold.” Statement, not question. And before you could answer, he’d taken off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders.

Part of you wanted to protest, wanted to worry about him getting cold, but his jacket was so soft, so warm, and it smelled like his cologne, and once it was draped around you, you didn’t want to give it back.

Despite his jacket, you shivered, and Billy stepped closer, heat radiating from his body.

“How’s it going?” He asked softly, leaning closer as if he was worried you’d be overheard, even though you were completely alone.

“Good, I think...” you answered just as softly, barely noticing that your eyes were fixed on his chest.

“What’s wrong?”

You wanted to hate how easily he could see through you, how he’d gotten better at understanding you in the weeks that you’d spent together, but you couldn’t. You’d wanted him to see you as a person and, now, he did.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I don’t feel like I belong in your world,” you confessed softly. “It’s exhausting.”

“I don’t feel like I belong either,” Billy offered.

Still, you couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing that you’d melt the moment that you did. You felt ridiculous for letting what Catherine had said get to you, but now you were overthinking every little thing he did, wondering if -

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

He didn’t love you. He wasn’t in love with you.

And you didn’t love him.

None of it was real - he’d told you himself, he found it easy to lie, and that was all it was. A lie. A fiction.

But, when you felt fingers beneath your chin, urging you to look up, you did. And when your eyes met his - yeah, as you’d feared, butterflies took flight in your stomach and your breath caught. The darkness of the night turned his eyes even darker but, still, they seemed to spark and burn when he looked at you.

“You belong here with me,” he said.

Before you could speak, the space between you disappeared. You weren’t sure which of you moved first, but his lips were soon on yours.

It was soft and slow, his tongue coaxing your lips apart so you could sink into a deeper kiss. You could taste the scotch he’d been drinking, and you were sure he could taste your wine. It was the excuse that you’d use for all of this - you’d both been drinking on empty stomachs.

And, besides, it was all for show. (Even though no one was watching, it was all for show.)

You pulled him closer, letting his body pin you against the balcony’s ledge. Even if it was just for show, there was nothing to say you couldn’t enjoy it, nothing to silence that voice in your head that demanded more, more, more.

It felt like a slow descent into madness, the kiss turning more heated the longer it continued, and you lost yourself to the fantasy, to the idea that you could belong with Billy.

You gripped him tight as you were lifted and placed on the ledge, the cold metal railing at your back as Billy stepped between your legs.

He’d never been so close before but, somehow, it wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel more of his body against your, you wanted to feel his skin beneath your hands, his -

A soft noise escaped you into the kiss as his hand started to blaze a trail up your thigh, slowing only a fraction before dipping beneath the hem of your dress. Your cheeks heated, and some small part of you knew that you should pull away, tell him to stop, but it was easily drowned out and overruled by the part of you that wanted.

His hand continued upwards and your heart raced faster. You knew what he’d find if his fingers reached your panties. The lace was already starting to soak with your arousal, and you should have been embarrassed at how wet you were just from one little kiss.

Billy nipped at your lip, drawing another noise from you, something a little louder and a lot more desperate, before plunging his tongue back into the warmth of your mouth.

Want me, every fibre of your being screamed against your better judgement, leaving you feeling so needy and desperate for something that wasn’t even real. You held him tighter, pulled him closer, your tongue greedy against his. You parted your legs a little wider, making room for his hand as his fingers finally reached the edge of your panties.

The first brush of his fingertips through the wet lace had your back aching, pushing yourself into his touch, his body, into everything that was Billy Russo.

Then came a sound, a voice, that had both Billy’s hand and lips pulling away from you.

Faye Van Der Koy telling you both that dinner was about to be served.

The weight of everything that had just happened hit you like a ton of bricks. You turned your head, looking away from Billy as shame filled your whole body. He tensed and pulled back.

“Sorry,” he said.

Sorry.

... what was he sorry for?

(For getting carried away, for doing exactly what you’d told him he couldn’t do, for treating you like an object for his pleasure. He was sorry because it wasn’t real and now you’d have to face the consequences.)

You held your breath when you felt his hands on your hips, lifting you down from the ledge, and when you looked at him again, you found that he looked almost as lost as you felt.

“I -” he started.

“We should go inside.”

Whatever he wanted to say, you were certain that you didn’t want to hear it.

Billy hesitated for a beat before nodding, clumsily taking your hand in his and leading you back inside.

Catherine Van Der Koy gave you a telling smirk as you and Billy took your seats at the table and, as the food was served, you felt like everyone at the table was staring at you. You didn’t realise your entire body was tensed until you felt Billy’s hand on your thigh beneath the table, offering a gentle but reassuring squeeze.

The conversation jumped around over dinner and you were happy to just silently observe it while you ate. They talked about business, politics, and the social scene. You paid attention, filing away everything that you thought might be important, and only speaking when a question was directly posed to you.

For someone who’d told you that he didn’t belong there, Billy had an infinitely easier time inserting himself into the conversation. Unlike you, he had limitless reserves of confidence.

Once dinner was over and fresh drinks were served, Billy’s arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

It was all for show, but you were so exhausted by everything that you were more than happy to rest your head against his shoulder, hoping that the night would soon be over.

When there was a lull in the conversation, Billy shifted to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You okay, little dove?” He asked.

The pet name had your heart skipping a beat and you sank closer.

“Fine, just tired,” you answered.

“Do you want to go soon?” His voice was soft and full of a sort of caring that always caught you off-guard.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t want to ruin the evening,” you said.

“Nonsense,” Catherine interjected. You hadn’t even realised she’d been listening. “I take it you’re both working in the morning.”

“We are,” Billy answered.

“But you’re the boss, why not just give yourself the day off?” Leah asked from the other side of the table.

“I would,” he said, implying that he wasn’t the one that had an issue with it.

“I’ve told you,” you said directly at Billy despite the fact that most of the table was listening, “I like to keep our professional and personal lives separate. Besides, Anvil would crumble if I took a day off.”

It was a gross overstatement and you found yourself grinning at Billy and - and then he let out one of those laughs and pressed his lips to your forehead again.

“She’s right,” he conceded, “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.”

There was truth in his words, but you didn’t want to think too much about why.

After a few more minutes, the two of you were on your feet, the Van Der Koy’s wishing you both goodnight with promises being thrown out about more dinners and social events in future. Catherine escorted you both to the lift, waiting with you, and putting the full weight of her scrutiny on Billy.

“William, when you propose to this girl, do make sure that it’s somewhere romantic. She deserves it,” Catherine said, smirking as Billy’s face paled at the suggestion.

But any shock he felt was short lived and he quickly rebounded with; “first I need to convince her to move in with me.”

Suddenly it was Catherine’s turn to look shocked, her attention quickly turning back to you as your cheeks heated.

Thankfully the elevator arrived before you had to try and think of a way to explain it to her. You were quickly ushered inside and Catherine promised to be in touch to see you both soon.

When the doors slid shut, you let out a sigh of relief.

“I think that went well,” Billy muttered, letting out an exhausted sigh of his own.

A/N : 😅 I think at this point I'm enjoying torturing these two far more than I should be. Next chapter might make some of you scream a little but please don't worry, it's all part of my master plan. Also those wondering about readers mysterious condition, that will all be addressed later on, don't worry. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. (Also sorry that I keep cock-blocking Billy in all of my fics)

As ever I adore you for your likes/comments/reblogs and I can't wait to hear your reactions to the balcony scene. Have a great weekend everyone!!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list :

@oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @intothesoul @uniquehijo

@anitaxl @solacedragonx @justiceforquentin @ladyblacky @marvelsunlight

@sweetserendipity65 @mrsalwayswrite @bunnygirlwriter876 @highwaytomichelle @bruxa0007

@jazzclubprincess @arwenscarlettalisonsloaneb @the-swift-escape @s0urw00lf

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #(ii)wii ff

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lusty-stallion · 25 days ago

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Plus 3 on a travel coach - Part 2

Part 1

---

One Dad was horrified at his inability to take his eyes off the hunky lads and the debauchery between the now Leather Daddy and young dumb bodybuilder.

Sat with his family next to his wife, he was disgusted that he was getting turned on by the outrageous display.

Turning to look out of the window and holding his wife’s hand, he felt something happen to his clothes and felt a desire to flex.

Worried for the children and for any further transformations to himself, he whispered to his wife “I wish there was a way for us to get the families off this coach!”

And Genie enjoyed answering his wish.

Time rewound a moment as the Dad whispered, “I wish there was a way for us to get only the families off this coach of sex!”

And as if by magic, the coach stopped at the side of a resort, complete with water park and plenty of family entertainment.

Without the usual grief kids give parents, all the kids and their mums moved first, as the dads were still struggling to stop purveying the young lovers at the back of the coach, finally tearing their eyes away as they departed the coach. The confused coach driver in his 50s helped unload all the families belongings before stepping onto the coach with trepidation as to what was to come, a glance at the hunky lads at the back before setting off again.

As the Dad who’d made the wish stepped toward the park, he flexed again. His wife commented that while she loved him showing off, he really should put a shirt on. He opened his case and couldn’t find any shirts. He made his way to the resort's clothing store, stopping to flex for anyone who looked like they wanted a show, and purchased a particularly small t-shirt, which he guessed would fit him. Flexing as he passed the mirrors, and then the security guard who looked impressed, he walked back to his wife, pulled the shirt on only to witness it dissolve into nothing, his whole body involuntarily flexing a pose once more.

A gay hunk walking passed him with his boyfriend witnessed the moment, and decided he had to see it happen again, and whisked off his tank top and said “Here you go man, maybe this will help.” Thanking the hunk, the Dad tried on the other man’s tank top only to watch it dissolve again, this time giving his well-worked pecs a bounce to the hunk and his boyfriend's delight.

“I’m sorry love” he said turning to his wife, I don’t know what’s happened to me, but whatever happened on the coach seems to make wearing tops impossible, and I seriously can’t help showing off.

His wife had always been a long suffering women, who deeply loved her man. They would soon discover that he was incapable of wearing shirts for the rest of his life, and he would work hard to retain his very muscular frame well into his 70s, continuing to show off to anyone who would watch. All due to one of the lads wishing that he’d enjoy showing off his body all the time, and Genie adding ‘without a shirt’ to the lad’s wish.

As soon as the coach took off again, it was like a heavy, musky aphrodisiac descended on the coach, thick and cloying, and everyone was suddenly horny as hell. The air crackled with barely suppressed lust.

There were still a good number of straight couples on the coach, who started touching each other up with increasing urgency, their hands moving up and down legs, groping and heavy petting escalating quickly. Moans and gasps filled the air as they fumbled with buttons and zippers, desperate for release.

The same occurred to other groupings of friends, who until that moment had never felt any attraction toward each other. But many found themselves pondering the attractiveness of their pal, their eyes lingering on bulging biceps and tight abs, their minds filled with forbidden thoughts.

Everyone’s need for sex was palpable, a thick, suffocating blanket of lust that permeated every corner of the coach.

One gay man named Stan, a man of Afro-American heritage, had spent much of the journey so far subtly eyeing up the man across from him. Well-styled brown hair, brown sexy eyes on a square-jawed face. His skin was beautiful, and so was his body. Well worked in the gym, this guy was active all the time and looked after himself. Stan had been horny for this guy since getting on the coach, well before the wish, thinking about what this hunk would do to him in bed if only he was his lover. The sexy guy’s girlfriend was currently reaching inside his jeans, a bit concerned by his regular snatching of glances at the lads at the back. Stan’s wish burst from his mouth, a desperate plea fuelled by pent-up desire.

“I wish that sexy guy was my lover!”

And time scratched back, the universe bending to Stan's will, fuelled by Genie's mischievous touch: “I wish that sexy dumb guy was my musky alpha lover!”

The girlfriend looked at him in repulsion as he almost screamed his wish at her athletic boyfriend, who looked shocked and sickened, before his transformation began.

His already well-worked body became beefier, his muscles swelling and straining against his clothes. He retained his agility, but gained at least 60 lbs of muscle across his upper body, his pecs becoming hard, defined slabs, his arms bulging with newfound power. As his eyes locked onto Stan, his sharp eyes boring into him, before becoming blunter, the spark of curiosity and understanding dimming to that of a man who cared more about his next workout and fuck than the concerning metamorphosis rewriting his potential future permanently. His intellect seemed to recede, replaced by a primal hunger.

He felt a tickle across his body as all pubic hair thickened into manly bushes, a thick, dark forest of coarse hair that hinted at the animalistic desires lurking beneath the surface. His shaved skin was covered with a thick pelt, a layer of fine, dark hair that held his deep, musky scent, capable of even driving straight men into his arms. The air around him crackled with pheromones, a potent cocktail of lust and dominance.

And then understanding dawned on his slower mind, as he recognized his lover, the man across from him who he loved to toss onto their bed and punish his hole. A primal urge to dominate and possess washed over him.

Acknowledging that Stan’s wish had done something to him, he said, his voice now deeper and rougher, “I wish my boy was a beefy cub now!”

Zip!

“I wish my house boy was a beefy hairy gym cub now!”

And Stan welcomed his lover's desires manifesting across his body. The pressure which built in his arms pressing his biceps out, his chest pushing, and a healthy layer of fat covered what would otherwise have been a trim core, accentuating his abs, but allowing him to retain his ‘cuddlier’ buff appearance. His body softened, becoming more yielding, more submissive, a perfect canvas for his new alpha lover to claim. His own scent changed, becoming sweeter, more inviting, a siren's call to his dominant partner.

Stan, now a beefy, hairy gym cub, felt his cheeks flush as his new alpha lover, the former straight guy, locked eyes with him. The raw desire in those eyes sent a shiver down Stan's spine, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through his veins. Another topless hunk came up behind Stan and started kissing his cheek.

The girlfriend grasped her man’s face and said “Jed, what’s going on?”. Jed looked at her with a confused glaze covering his eyes. “Emmmm, sorry chick you’re not really my type.”

The former girlfriend, now completely forgotten, watched in horror as her ex-boyfriend grabbed Stan by the collar, yanking him forward with surprising force. Stan landed in his lap with a thud, his soft, muscular body pressed against the hard, bulging thighs of his alpha lover.

"You did this to me," the alpha lover growled, his voice a deep, guttural rumble that vibrated through Stan's body. "Now you're going to pay the price."

Stan whimpered, his eyes wide with fear. He knew exactly what the alpha lover meant. He had seen the way he looked at him, the way his eyes had devoured his body, the way his hands had clenched into fists, as if itching to grab him and claim him as his own.

Without warning, the alpha Jed ripped Stan's shirt open, the buttons flying off and scattering across the floor. Stan's soft, hairy chest was exposed, his nipples hard and erect. The alpha lover's eyes darkened with lust as he reached out and pinched one of Stan's nipples, causing him to gasp in pain and pleasure.

"You're mine now," the alpha lover said, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "And I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."

He leaned down and began to lick and suck on Stan's nipples, his tongue swirling around them in a tantalizing dance. Stan moaned, his body arching against the alpha lover's. He couldn't help himself. He was completely under his spell, a helpless pawn in his lustful game.

The woman burst into tears, much to the distraction of some of the nearer passengers. One straight guy, grappling with his aching cock, took the opportunity to swoop in to rescue the woman from her misery. As he approached her as the coach continued along the road, he confidently walked up to her and said “Hey there baby doll, I can be everything he was to you and more.” She looked up at the handsome man reviled by yet more masculine bravado, and she said “Leave us women alone. I wish you never approach another woman again.”

Time rolled back those last seconds as she locked eyes with the horny man, “I wish you never approach another woman again, always fucking men!.”

Surprised at herself, she watched as the man stepped back from her and surveyed the dumbass muscle hound stripping his cub, and he longed for that kind of action.

He spotted his buddy Trent and for the first time realised how attractive he was. They’d worked out together for years and built strong athletic bodies. And that’s when he remembered his buddy’s smaller than average cock. A smirk crept across his face, the woman’s angry wish ringing in his ears as he formed quickly a wish to realize his desires.

“I wish Trent was the fittest powerlifter in the city, with the biggest cock.”

Genie snapped his fingers and time reset as he wished “I wish Trent was the fittest gay powerlifter in the city, with the biggest cock hungry ass.”

Trent couldn’t quite hear every word, but noticed his pal was looking strangely hungry. A primal hunger that sent shivers down his spine.

And then he felt it. His lats felt like they were on fire, as did his bis and tris. His lower back started to feel over-encumbered as his upper body exploded in incredible muscle. He knew he was the fittest powerlifter, with legs which were perfect for running long distances. And then something strange happened with his glutes. They seemed to be expanding in his seat. They seemed to puff out, still pure muscle, but big, glorious globes begging for kneading and playing with.

And then a new desire erupted inside him, a burning, insatiable need to be filled. His cock remained hard, but he was less aware of it. He didn’t even notice it shrink another couple of inches. He just needed someone to ravage him deep inside, rubbing his aching prostate with pleasure. He desired calloused, muscular hands to work his ass before filling him with a meat stick of massive proportions. He was sure he could take any length and girth of manhood, and he was ready to try all the men in the world to find the biggest out there.

As his pal returned to his seat, Trent spun around, thrusting his newly enlarged booty into the air, presenting himself like a goddamn offering. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed with lust.

"Spank me, stud," he moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Punish me for being such a bad boy."

He reached behind and grabbed his own ass cheeks, spreading them wide for his friend's inspection.

"Look at this hungry ass," he purred. "It's begging for your attention. It needs to be filled with your hot, hard cock."

He leaned back against his friend's legs, his ass grinding against his crotch.

"Please, baby," he begged. "I can't take it anymore. I need you inside me. I need to feel you stretching me, filling me, owning me."

He reached behind and took his friend's hand, guiding it towards his throbbing ass.

"Touch me," he whispered. "Feel how wet I am. Feel how much I want you."

He closed his eyes and moaned as his friend's fingers began to explore his ass, teasing his hole, driving him wild with anticipation.

"Fuck me, baby," he begged. "Fuck me hard and make me your bitch."

The woman who had made the wish watched in stunned silence, her tears forgotten. She had unleashed a force of nature, a torrent of repressed desires that could no longer be contained.

The other passengers watched in a mixture of shock, arousal, and envy, their own desires stirring within them.

And it continued. One man, with his girl riding the full length of his cock, couldn’t shake the image of the lusty lads, and cried out “I wish girls were as sexy as those hunky horny lads.”

And Genie snapped back time

“I wish girls on this coach were as sexy as those hunky horny lads.”

Genie was careful, he’d be in trouble with the deities if he granted world-changing wishes, not to mention the lack of continued joy he’d be able to get through the diversity of his wishes. After all, world-changing wishes tend to stamp a uniformity across the world, which is highly undesirable to Genies.

And the guy was not disappointed when his girlfriend’s bra melted away around his new full pecs. His new balls were resting on the boyfriend's belly as he continued thrusting into his partner, although his cock was now in his partner's fine ass, rather than their previous genitalia.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as his breasts hardened into pecs, his hips narrowed, and his clit elongated into a throbbing cock. The sensation was overwhelming, his mind filled with pleasure and confusion. He felt a surge of primal energy coursing through his veins, with a fresh desire to dominate and control.

There were a few moans of surprise, but happy acceptance as all the remaining women became young, sexy late teens with chiselled frat boy bodies and a taste for immature jokes. Their clothes strained against their new muscles, their bras bursting open to reveal sculpted pecs, their hips narrowing, their curves hardening into lean, athletic frames.

Grunts of surprised gasps and excited whoops filled the coach as the former women surveyed their new bodies. They flexed their biceps, admired their chiselled abs, and ran their hands over their newly formed cocks.

"Holy shit," one of them exclaimed, his voice now deeper and more resonant, "this is fucking awesome!"

"I feel like I could bench press a fucking truck!" another one shouted, flexing his massive pecs.

"Check out my dick!" a third one yelled, grabbing his throbbing cock and giving it a playful tug. "It's bigger than my ex's!"

A wave of homoerotic energy washed over the coach as the newly transformed men began to eye each other with newfound lust. They exchanged suggestive glances, flexed their muscles, and whispered dirty jokes.

One of the new men, emboldened by his transformation, grabbed his former lesbian girlfriend and pulled him close.

"Hey, babe," he purred, his voice now dripping with testosterone, "wanna try out my new equipment?"

He leaned in and kissed his former girlfriend, his tongue exploring his mouth with a brand-new intensity. The kiss quickly escalated into a passionate make-out session, both their new male bodies grinding against each other, their hands exploring every inch of their newly transformed physiques.

The other new young lads, fuelled by their newborn desires, began to pair off, their hands groping and grabbing, their mouths locked in passionate grips. Genie surveyed his masterpiece. This once ordinary coach of randomers heading to a camping destination had been transformed into viral men looking to hook up, without any other cares in the world.

Jed's hands roamed down Stan’s body, kneading the soft flesh of his newly acquired cub physique. He squeezed Stan's pecs, enjoying the way they jiggled in his hands. He traced the outline of Stan's abs, marvelling at the layer of fat that covered them, giving them a softer, more inviting feel. He reached down and cupped Stan's balls, feeling the heavy weight of them in his palm.

"You're so soft," Jed said, his voice thick with lust. "I want to make you harder."

He began to rub Stan's cock through his pants, his fingers teasing and tormenting him. Stan groaned, his body trembling with anticipation. He could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Jed pulled back, his eyes burning with desire. He reached down and unbuckled Stan's belt, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. He pulled down Stan's pants, revealing his hard, throbbing cock.

"Oh, fuck," Jed said, his voice barely a whisper. "You're so beautiful."

He leaned down and began to suck on Stan's cock, his mouth enveloping it completely. Stan moaned, his body shaking with pleasure. He closed his eyes and let himself be consumed by the sensation, his mind blank, his body on fire.

Jed sucked on Stan's cock with increasing intensity, his tongue swirling around the head, his teeth gently nipping at the shaft. Stan's moans grew louder, his body arching and twisting in ecstasy. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body trembling with anticipation.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a loud, guttural cry as he came in Jed's mouth, his body convulsing with pleasure. Jed swallowed his cum, his eyes never leaving Stan's.

"That was just the beginning," Jed said, his voice rough and demanding. "Now it's my turn."

He stood up and pulled down his own pants, revealing his massive, throbbing cock. It was thick and veiny with newfound alpha status. Stan's eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight of it.

Jed grabbed Stan by the hips and pulled him close, his cock pressing against Stan's ass. Stan gasped, his body tingling with anticipation. He knew what was coming, and he couldn't wait.

Jed thrust his cock into Stan's ass, his body shaking with pleasure. Stan moaned, his body arching and twisting in ecstasy. He wrapped his arms around Jed's neck and held on tight, his body completely consumed by the sensation.

Jed fucked Stan hard and fast, his body pounding into him with relentless force. Stan's moans grew louder, his body shaking with pleasure. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body trembling with anticipation.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a loud, guttural cry as he came in Jed's ass, his body convulsing with pleasure. Jed continued to fuck him, his body pounding into him with unrelenting force.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jed finally came as well, his body shaking with pleasure. He collapsed on top of Stan, his body heavy and exhausted.

They lay there for a long time, their bodies intertwined, their breaths ragged and uneven. Finally, Jed rolled off of Stan, his body still trembling with pleasure.

"That was amazing," Jed said, his voice barely a whisper. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Stan smiled, his body still tingling with pleasure. He knew that this was just the beginning of their new life together, a life filled with lust, desire, and endless depravity.

#wishes #bodybuilder #straight to gay #jockification #sexy hunk #jock transformation #genie #plus3

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remotewatch · 2 months ago

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two pretty-ass friends, we besties 👯‍♀️

Jack Schlossberg x reader x reader(?) | 4.4k wc

minors don't perceive and begone

summary: we've all heard those dominatrix rumors!

cws: dual femdom, ffm threesome, verbal and physical degradation, bondage, petplay, vibrator shenanigans, thwarted phone sex, impact play, oral (f receiving), implied shoe sniffing, semipublic humiliation, Jack is a cringefail loser who can't hold a plank, sorry for party rocking,

an: on this blog, it’s Valentine’s Day when I say so! Thanks for your patience, and hope you all enjoy 💕

Many many thanks to @mystardustmelodyyy as always for being the editing voice of reason and encouragement <333333

“Oh, this is cute!” ‘Violet’, your partner in debauchery, drops her bags and takes in your room for the evening. It’s a bit smaller than what you’re used to when you see Jack, but the giant tub in the bathroom plans to make up for it. The delicate swan fixtures just barely prevent it from skewing tacky, despite taking up half the room.

“You think he misses the ocean?” you chuckle, measuring its length with your wingspan.

“Yeah, he’s probably trying to break up the ice as we speak.” She cranks the heat after you shed your winter layers in exchange for tonight’s outfits. Peach and powder blue don’t exactly scream Valentine’s Day, though Jack has never been much of a traditionalist as long as you’ve known him.

“Ten bucks says he didn’t shave.” Violet scrunches her nose opening a bottle of champagne and squeals when it nearly drenches her slip.

“Careful with that; we’ve only got ten of them. And deal. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. I’ll get us something. Do you think he’ll want anything?”

You both explode with laughter as she fills your flute. “Half a blueberry maybe? HA!”

Violet is just wrapping up her call with the front desk when your phone rings and sighs in mock exasperation when she sees Jack’s caller ID pop up.

“Watch, he’s probably going to ask us if we can bring another friend along.” It sounds plausible enough when you answer and are greeted with your host already sounding out of breath and sheepish.

“Hey, uh- I’m in traffic! It’ll be anywhere from like.. 10 to 90 minutes? You guys should probably go down to the restaurant, you know, kill some time.”

“He’s ‘running late.’” you mouth to her, rolling your eyes in unison.

“That is so like you! No respect for anyone’s time!” you sneer.

“I know, it just backed up a few minutes ago…”

Violet nudges your elbow, pointing at a closed hall closet. If you tune out Jack’s train of excuses, you can just barely hear faint jostling coming from inside. She claps a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle as you cut him off.

“Well, if it’s really that bad, I guess we could do something on the phone; you have a partition in there, right?”

“Not really, but I can make it work.” His smile is so apparent over the phone; you can clearly picture him squirming in anticipation of being told off.

“EW, your poor Uber driver! I hope you’re tipping her enough, you asshole!”

“Fifty percent, just like you wanted, I promise!”

“Cheap fucking bastard. Cheap and impatient! Can’t wait your little ten minutes-”

“Ten to Ninety.”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me! Focus on your second head, something you can actually handle.” Your shouting is the perfect cover for Violet to stalk closer to the closet. More thumps come from within, and you wonder if he’d take this lie all the way to orgasm if you let him.

“Sorry, yeah. Focusing.” He wheezes. That empty-headed tinge is creeping into his voice already.

“And actually, if you’re going to keep us waiting, we might as well go home. This place is kind of small anyway.”

“No, no, no, don’t go home!” Jack begs, just as Violet swings open the closet door, sending him tumbling to the floor with rose petals falling out of his beanie.

“What the fuck?” you laugh. He scrambles to sweep them up, arms splaying clumsily as he swipes for the ones between your feet.

“I wanted to make an entrance! It’s Valentine’s Day, I thought it would be sentimental!”

“You wanted to make a grand entrance and you’re wearing that?”

Jack looks down at his sweats then backs up with an expression that screams ‘but it’s coming off soon anyway?’, like a kid determined to stay in pajamas under his church clothes.

“And didn’t you post a video in that same outfit yesterday?” Violet kicks a stray petal just out of reach. “How are you always so gross?”

He’s momentarily forgotten as you try and determine how much his patchy five o'clock shadow counts towards your bet, until you hear him apologize under his breath. Using your real name.

“WHAT did you just call me?!”

“Dahlia, Dahlia, my bad!” Jack flinches back when you grab his hood and practically drag him across the floor, dirty sneakers squeaking on the tile as he tries to get a grip.

“Yeah, no. You’re being crazy. Shower, NOW!”

💕💕💕💕💕

Violet perches opposite you on the rim of the gargantuan rounded tub as steam slowly fills the bathroom.

“Oh, remind me to tell you about this thing I read,” she whispers before whipping her head towards the fogged-up shower.

“Jack! You’re using soap, right?” There’s a severely guilty pause before he responds.

“Yes…”

“Show us!” It takes a minute, but he eventually peers around the edge of the door, clearly not sudsy enough for your partner.

“Nope! Get back in there!” She whips a spare loofah at him, then a mini body wash, and you're sinking down to stretch out along the bottom of the tub by the time she’s pressing a nail brush against his sternum.

“You know what this is for? Yeah? Prove it!”

After a few more stern words, she hops back in so you can show her some other hotel options you’re perusing.

“Yasuragi just isn’t the same at full capacity, but if we got the Ryokan it might work.”

“Isn’t it -5 in Sweden next week? I’m sick of freezing my ass off.”

“Yeah, but the hot spring is in-room.”

“Oh, fuck yeah, book it!”

When Jack exits the shower, his old clothes are nowhere to be seen, along with any full size towels. He glances around for a spare robe, only to be met with twin faux pouts.

“Bummer… I guess they didn’t replenish the linens.”

Violet tosses him a hand towel before chiming in on her way out of the bathroom. “Yeah, but it’s like way better for the environment, you know?”

You continue murmuring in exaggerated agreement while Jack tries and fails to secure the towel around his waist after his best attempt to dry off. He barely even protests when you snatch it back, just lets out a surprised squeak.

“Pets don’t wear clothes. You’ll be fine.” He knows better than to cover his dick without permission, settling to clasp his hands behind his back as you swing the towel around nonchalantly.

“We got you something! No need to thank us.” Violet chirps, trotting back in clasping a thin dog collar, black velvet with a silver surfboard name tag. Jack bares his neck obediently while she fastens it, and you spot him trying not to smile.

“You’re such a lucky dog. I was going to grab one of those silly heart bandannas, but Violet put her foot down. She had a LOT of opinions at the Petco!”

“I think it looks classy!” Violet says, scratching him under his chin. Immediately, he’s slumping into her touch, dick twitching every time she hits a good spot.

“So!” You clip a matching leash to Jack’s collar and lead him into the living room. Violet trails behind with one of your suitcases. “I’m sure you’re wondering what we’re going to do tonight. But before we can get to all of that, we’ve got a few questions for you, okay?”

A gentle push on his shoulder plops him down into a chair, and Violet is quick to swoop in with a pile of red velvet ribbon from the bag.

“It’s nothing crazy. You just answer as best you can, and we’ll decide if you’re lying or not.”

She smiles sweetly before tugging on his left ankle until his hips are right on the edge of the seat. After spreading his thighs as wide as possible, she fixes him to the chair legs with matching bows on his knees and ankles. You take the other roll of ribbon and focus on his top half.

“If you’re telling the truth…” You gently grasp one of his wrists and press a fingertip to your lips. “You get a kiss.” He flexes a bit after you secure it down, testing his wiggle room.

Slowly, you thread the ribbon around his chest, taking extra time to scratch at his pecs a little as you secure the bow.

“If you lie to us…” your hand trails up his neck to cup his jaw fondly. Jack’s eyes slip closed just before you wind up and slap his cheek. “That won’t be tolerated.”

“And don’t even THINK about cumming! Are you seriously already leaking?” Violet giggles as his dick thumps against her knee. She swipes a fresh bead of precum off his tip and shoves it into his mouth. “Can you go one day without making a huge mess?”

He blinks at you both stupidly, trying to gauge if the game has already started. “I guess not?”

Tipping his head back, Violet presses a glossy kiss onto his jaw.“Absolutely not! Remember when you ruined my slippers? Because I specifically recall designating them as sniff don’t touch.”

“I thought you said sniff and touch…”

You take the opportunity to give his earlobe a swift flick before cupping his throat. “Uh-huh. That’s because you were thinking with your dick. Typical! When did you lose your virginity?” Jack’s Adam's apple bobs under your palm.

“I was sixteen-”

SMACK! He groans as more precum drips onto the upholstery.

“I meant nineteen!”

SMACK!

“Stop lying!” You wonder if you should’ve left some rings on.

His gaze flits between you two, desperately searching for hints. “Six months ago!”

“That’s right; you didn’t know anything before you met us.” His eyelids flutter under your barrage of kisses, all glassy and stupid as he struggles to speak.

“How tall are you?” Violet squints disapprovingly.

“6’3…” It’s barely more than murmurs now.

SMACK! Another dribble, this one with enough force to make it to the floor.

“6’1?” He’s already bracing for impact.

“Prove it.”

The chair creaks as Jack struggles against his restraints, even tipping it back precariously before glancing up in defeat.

“I said fucking prove it!” His thighs twitch reflexively, and you both erupt into giggles as he crashes sideways to the floor.

“5’9!” he sputters as you crouch down slowly, earning a delicate kiss on the cheek. There’s no time to soak it up before Violet yanks the chair back upright, finger jabbing tiny crescent nail marks into his cheek.

“Why did you screenshot Dahlia’s story at 3 am last night?”

Jack’s eyes widen. “It was an accident-”

SMACK! Violet’s slap knocks a gasp out of him.

“I swear-”

SMACK!

“I’m sorry! You just looked so beautiful…” his words slur together as he struggles to catch his breath.

“So you thought you’d get off without asking?” Jack winces when you dig your foot against the flesh of his stomach.

“God, you have NO discipline.”

This time, Violet relents a bit, sweeping his hair out of his face and dabbing the residual sweat off with a napkin. “Jack.. if you weren’t seeing us, how often would you masturbate?”

“All day every day.” He’s gone totally slack now, mumbling like you’re pulling the correct answers out more than he’s saying them. The corners of his mouth barely even twitch up when you both pepper him with kisses.

💕💕💕💕💕

Once Jack is nice and dumbed down, he doesn’t flinch at any of the other activities you’ve planned for the evening. Hot wax slides down his chest like water, and he runs himself ragged playing fetch until you have to force some water down his throat. The only thing that gives him a bit of pause is you pulling out a spinner and polka dotted tarp.

“Twister?”

“Yeah. Work on your shoulder stamina for a change.”

“That's mean.”

He’s getting way too lucid if he can think to complain.

“Are you gonna fucking cry?”

“Do you want me to cry?”

“Just get on the mat!”

You end up touching your toes and pushing your hips back against Jack’s face with Violet sprawled out beneath him on spinner duty, her free hand lazily jerking him off. His arms are starting to shake from planking so long, and he nearly falls flat when she brushes against him to spin again.

“We only just started! There’s no way you’re tired yet!” she laughs. “Left hand red.” Jack’s fingers stretch to find a dot within reach, only for you to pull him closer, burying his nose even deeper.

“No, that red!”

“I told you to actually try this time! I thought you were like, sooo flexible. Isn’t that what he said?” Violet flicks at his nipple, relishing the full body shudder it triggers.

“What kind of freak lies about something like that?” you scoff and push your ass further onto his face.

“I’mmmph sorry! Please-” is all the warning you get before his arms give out and he crashes down on top of Violet, who’s quick to shove him off in disgust.

“I can’t believe you lost again, but you know what that means!” A quick yank under your slip and you’re stepping out of your thong. Jack is too preoccupied trying to glance at what it was covering before it’s shoved into his mouth.

“Maybe when your endurance improves you can graduate from being a laundry basket.”

Jack’s muffled whimpers of “I don’t wanna be a basket!” are interrupted by Violet pouncing on top of him.

“Aren’t you tired of being a loser? Be honest with us.” It’s difficult to tell if she’s more laughing or grimacing at how easily he falls apart from a few strokes at his cock.

“No, I’mnota-”

“You aren’t tired? That’s so sad. Does it feel inherent to who you are as a person or something?” His tip weeps between her fingers, flushed crimson and gleaming under the lamplight.

“Oh, lay off him. It’s a holiday.” Jack gazes reverently up at you as you pull his head into your lap, even as you take care to tuck a stray fold of the thong back between his lips.

“He’s drenching my fucking hand! I’m being nice!”

Despite the chaos going on below his waist, feeling Jack writhe under you and watching his eyes roll back as the fabric slightly dampens his moans is somehow deeply calming. You take the chance to wrap your legs a little tighter around his head, feeling that obscenely thick (now somewhat damp) mane of hair brush up against your clit while the sweat dripping down his temples dampens your inner thighs.

“I said don’t fucking cum!” Violet’s voice pulls you back to reality. He’s doing his best, but the effort of trying not to bust has him panting like an actual dog.

A sharp knock at the door spares him release and the subsequent punishment. Still, he’s pawing desperately at your leg to ground himself as you get up to answer it.

“Oh my god, finally! Took them long enough. Jack, get back in the closet!” Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Violet failing to lead him by his dick out of the living room, instead opting to haul him whining and limp onto the sofa.

Flinging the front door open, you’re greeted with two dapper hotel staff bearing your dinner for the evening. One cocks his head slightly for a view deeper into the suite while the other stares unblinking into your eyes; anything to avoid too long of a glance at your slip. “Room service, ma’am.”

“Bonsoir, gentlemen! You can set up on the coffee table. Don’t mind the dog!”

They can’t help a glance or two at Jack, who is covering his dick with a silky heart shaped pillow, as they wheel the cart in and begin unpacking your meal: caesar salad, fries, and chocolate mousse.

“Would you like a third place setting?” One of the men pauses mid-fork placement and half-gestures toward your host.

“Oh, no thank you! He’s reducing.” Violet leans over to pinch his cheek. “Aren’t you, Jack?”

He manages a stiff nod.

“Don’t you dare stain that pillow!” You hiss as she takes his wallet to tip the server.

💕💕💕💕💕

“What do they put in this dressing that makes it so good? I want to say oregano? Maybe the chef is just a miracle worker.” Violet squints at a forkful of salad, trying to analyze every inch of the spring mix. Your mind is occupied elsewhere.

“Okay, so if tivoli is still closed, we can just go straight from the spa to the ice hotel?” You can’t resist taking advantage of the slightest lull in the action to pop open your laptop and revisit some upcoming bookings.

“Can’t we wait and go when it’s warmer? We have a gap in the schedule in early April, right?”

“It’ll be gone by April. Are you really going to let that snowsuit rot in your closet?”

“Okay, fine, but if we go, I don’t want to hear you complaining about how many people are there after you shot down the igloo idea.”

“Eat your food,” you giggle, chucking a fry in her direction.

As dinner progresses, Jack slumps off the couch onto the floor beneath the coffee table and dozes off curled between the two of you. Whenever Violet pauses to think, her hand meanders down to scratch at his scalp. It’s such a peaceful scene that the two of you debate not waking him up at all, backtracking once you point out that ‘he’ll be so stiff and make it our problem’.

“Jack, honey, wake up…it’s still Valentine's Day,” Violet coos. When he doesn’t move, she supplies a light kick to his stomach. “Get up!”

That at least gets him to stir. “There you go, good dog.”

Jack rubs his eyes sleepily while he takes in the hotel room before meeting your gaze.

“It’s still Valentine’s Day,” you remind him.

“Oh yeah!” His eyes light up. “For how long?”

“Two more hours. Now, go get the bath set up.”

He stumbles a little getting up but steadies himself on another suitcase and practically skips off into the bathroom.

“Just give me five! You two are gonna love this!” He chirps over his shoulder. Violet shrugs and refills your champagne glass before topping herself off.

“That’s what I was going to tell you! Did you hear that new article in The Cut is supposedly Danielle?”

“No! You’re kidding!”

Just as you’re getting into a good dish, the bathroom door swings open to reveal a dozen lit jasmine candles and a freshly drawn bubble bath brimming with rose petals in the suite’s oversized tub. Then there was Jack, still in his dog collar, looking adorably proud of his work, holding a fresh bottle of champagne. To make things even sweeter, you notice he’s arranged several of the vibrators you’d packed in a silver dish next to the tub. He can’t stop gawking when you take your slips off, and you indulge him for a split second, blowing a kiss before chucking it at him.

“Stop staring, pervert!”

💕💕💕💕💕

“Isn’t it crazy that you don’t have a Valentine when you could just put your follower list on shuffle and have someone new every night?” Violet muses.

She’s holding a silicone vibe’s blunt plane right under Jack’s tip while you lather up his chest with soap (he really did a TERRIBLE job showering earlier) as the candles steadily flicker down. It’s a romantic scene from the waist up- the bathtub is positively overflowing with apricot-scented bubbles-, but you can feel Jack’s fists clenched by his sides underwater. You’re not making it any easier on him, shoving your tits right in his face so you can talk down to him..

“If only your fans knew how rancid you smell most of the time. I bet they’d still do anything for you. But you don’t want that, right? They all idolize you too much.”

He slumps down more with each of Violet’s jabs, letting out a shaky ‘Yeahhh..’ as his head tips back, just as you snag another vibrator and submerge it under the foam. Jack doesn’t even notice until you’re rubbing it against his head. His eyebrows shoot up, and your lips automatically curl into a sadistic grin.

“You’re never told no in your life, then we come along, and you’re obsessed with us. God, are we the only ones who realize how GROSS you are?”

“You’re so mean!” He shudders in ecstasy, voice cracking. Violet leans in closer and gives you a knowing look before taking his chin between her thumb and forefinger.

“You’d better not cum before we say so, especially not in here. Clogging the fucking filter up, and everyone will know it was you, because I’ll tell maintenance EXACTLY who to blame when they come knocking. Remember what happened in Miami?”

“…No?” He whines.

“You’re not going to cum, right? You wouldn’t do that to us.” You murmur against his ear, cranking up the voltage so you can put the vibrator on its max setting.

“No! I promise! I’d never- I’d never-no! Nono please!” Jack pleads with his body as it twitches in your arms. In between the roiling bubbles from the jets, you spot a few strings of cum swirling around as they float to the surface.

“Oh my god; what is wrong with you?!” Violet’s fingers twist around his neck to hoist him out of the water. The temperature difference has him swaying, but he stays hunched over enough for her to berate him properly.

“All we asked you to do tonight was one fucking thing! I thought you could handle that!”

You let out a sigh (not unrelated to the water working its magic) and shrug.

“He just can’t help himself… but I think we should keep him.”

💕💕💕💕💕

Violet using the crop on Jack after he cums sans authorization has become something of a standard routine. While she “punishes” him on the sofa, you change into your pajamas- a flouncy butter-soft Dôen nightgown that was every bit worth the splurge- and cheerily hum along to your playlist for the second half of the evening as you do your skincare routine in the bathroom. The cartoonish cracks of impact and Jack’s yelps from the next room are a perfect compliment to your nighttime jazz.

Eventually, she enters the bathroom, all flushed cheeks and tousled hair, and promises you that ‘he’s very sorry and just missed us over the holidays’. You peek out to find him pressed against one of the corners of the living room, red lines rising on his back from Violet’s crop.

“Did you polish his nose up?”

“Oh yeah, but I might have missed a spot.” She giggles.

You plop down lotus style on the sofa and arch your finger to signal Jack over. While he obediently kneels at the foot of the sofa, you realize there’s a few spoonfuls of chocolate mousse left and delicately scoop up a little bump for him.

“Wanna try it?”

Jack looks apprehensive at first, but slowly leans forward to accept the bite. His eyes slip closed as his tongue laves over the spoon, even relaxing enough to let out a sigh when you begin scratching under his collar.

“Such a good boy. Finish it for me?”

He looks down at the bowl like it might explode on contact. “All of it?”

You take a spoonful out for yourself and nod, savoring the bittersweet taste. “Uh huh. If you clean it, I’ll let you eat me out.”

Before you can continue, Jack lurches forward and sticks his face straight in the crystal bowl. Your eyes linger, watching his tongue flatten and slip against its surface. When he comes up, there’s a little smear of mousse on his forehead from the rim that you treat yourself to licking off.

“You did so well for us.” You purr, stroking your thumb over his brows, gently tugging his head down. His quiet and docile demeanor is a far cry from the silly goose jerking off with a beanie full of rose petals at the beginning of the evening. Spreading his hands over your thighs, he whispers a meek little ‘Thank you’ before burying his face in your pussy. For all the jokes you’d made about stubble on his jawline, it feels electric brushing between your thighs.

“You were so well-behaved tonight, and we didn’t go easy on you! Aw, baby. You’re so sweet. What a good dog. Did you have a nice Valentine’s Day?”

“Mmmmhhmmmm!” He’s all broad and frantic lapping like he’s scared you’ll take his meal away.

Your legs extend around Jack’s shoulders to link your feet together, hands in his hair as you rock him against you, encouraging him through his pussydrunk whimpering.

“Good job baby, keep going. Just like that, no slacking- oh my god-”

His hands cradle your hips, heat bleeding clear through the delicate fabric of your nightgown as you sprawl out and let the feeling of his nose brushing at your clit engulf you. The lines completely blur as he gets lost licking you through your orgasm; he mindlessly slurps at where you were sitting for a good minute after you get on your feet, only stopping when he feels you hook a finger under his collar.

💕💕💕💕💕

“Coral and algae exhibit a mutually beneficial relationship. Healthy coral are home to photosynthetic algae that provide the coral with energy necessary for its growth. In turn, corals provide their algae with shelter. Each cannot survive without the other.”

You’ve queued up a documentary about coral reefs by the time Violet returns from the bathroom to find Jack curled up in your lap in bed. He’s just on the edge of drifting off with your fingers threading through his hair.

“Come on, move it.” you whisper with a kiss to his forehead and banish him to the foot of the bed. Violet flops down next to you, snuggling into the down duvet and dimming the lights with a swift clap.

“This place is growing on me.”

“Ok, so back to Danielle. I can’t believe she published anything so soon after buying that AI Monet!”

“Oh my god, I know! That thing looked insane; there’s no way she actually saw it beforehand. And did you see she’s planning on putting another piece out next month?”

“We can only hope. Things have been so boring lately.”

Jack’s breath hitches from the foot of the bed, then settles back down into the rhythm of deeper sleep.

#jack schlossberg #jack schlossberg x reader #freak nasty #fuck it vday in march

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femininenachos · 2 months ago

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10 years of Clexa kisses (Cut to the Chase edition)

“What do you think?”

Lexa stands behind the chair, taking the jagged, razor-finished ends of Clarke’s artfully dishevelled locks between her fingers. Her expression is unreadable, except for the subtle pout of her lips as she scrutinises the symmetry of her work.

For her part, Clarke is very much enjoying the pleasurable tug on her scalp.

“Good shag.”

In the mirror, Lexa casts her eyes towards the ceiling. “Surely we’ve exhausted that joke by now.”

“Have we, though? I think I could get another two or three cracks out of it, minimum.”

Lexa only releases a quiet sigh, combing her long fingers through the flicked-out layers at the back to give the volume a little extra oomph. And Clarke could get easily get used to this: Lexa’s hands in her hair. It already feels familiar.

“I love it, Lexa. Genuinely.”

The cut is fucking awesome. She looks like the illegitimate love child of Stevie Nicks and Farrah Fawcett, conceived during an epic three-day odyssey of drug-fuelled debauchery and mayhem. Pour her into a pair of skintight black leather pants, apply a fuckton of smoky liner and silver eyeshadow, and she’s ready to be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

If she’s being honest, she wasn’t sold on the bangs at first but they really frame her face and bring out her features.

Yeah… it’s safe to say she’s feeling it.

And Lexa is too, if the way she’s staring is any indication.

“So…” Clarke lifts her eyebrows expectantly.

“Right.” Lexa springs into action. “I’ll take this—“

She plucks the cutting collar from Clarke’s shoulders and puts it aside. Helps Clarke out of the cape and guides her towards the reception area with a hand at the small of her back.

“Linc, could you ring it up for me?”

He perks up as soon as his eyes land on Clarke, and he gives the new ‘do a nod of approval.

Lexa lowers her voice for Clarke’s ears only. “I have to make some calls to clear my schedule, but you can wait here or there’s a decent coffee shop across the street.”

“I‘ll wait.”

Clarke is antsy enough without adding caffeine to the equation.

Lexa remains where she is, eyes making a slow sweep of Clarke’s outfit, from the peep toe heels, bare legs exposed by the short, one-piece romper suit, lingering on the line of her cleavage. Getting stuck there for a second. And Clarke sees the small gulp, the slight bob of Lexa’s throat as she swallows.

When their eyes meet again, Lexa’s are dark and full of glittering promise. It’s a look that leaves no doubt about what her intentions are for the rest of the afternoon.

Clarke sends her off with a hushed, “Be quick.”

While she deals with payment—trying not to wince too obviously at the charge on her credit card (this place definitely has the price tag to reflect its celebrity clientele)—she leaves a tip generous enough to make Lincoln’s brown eyes bulge almost as much as his biceps do.

He almost falls over himself to oblige Clarke with a snap for Insta. She’s in the midst of posing up a storm for their mini photo shoot when Lexa returns, a little red in the face, a backpack slung over one shoulder, hair loose and flowing free again.

“Ready?” Lexa asks Clarke.

Lincoln looks perplexed as Clarke relieves him of her phone with her thanks.

He frowns. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I cleared it with Anya. She already gave me shit so don’t start, okay?”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Later.”

Clarke gives him a sheepish parting wave as she hustles to keep up with Lexa’s long strides. As soon as they step outside onto the sidewalk, she reaches for Lexa’s wrist.

“Hey. Look, Lexa, I don’t want you to get into trouble with your boss because of...”

She trails off, silenced by Lexa crowding into her space, backing her against the whitewashed wall.

“Me,” Clarke finishes on an exhale.

Lexa’s hands cup her neck, thumbs stroking over her jaw, and Clarke draws in a hurried breath before Lexa breaches the final gap.

Clarke sighs into the soft crush of lips. Waits only a beat before she pulls Lexa’s lean frame flush against her body by the belt loops of her jeans. Heart racing, knees trembling as Lexa’s mouth shifts and the kiss deepens with mutual hunger.

“Upstairs?” Clarke pants out after probably a solid thirty seconds of thoroughly acquainting herself with the contours of Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa nods and surges forward again, claiming a string of heated kisses that leave Clarke wobbly on her feet when they separate.

“Side alley. Entrance is around back.”

The fact Lexa only seems capable of speaking in fragmented sentences is a tremendous ego boost, but Clarke’s not going to boast about it. Yet.

Tangling their fingers together, Lexa tugs Clarke in the right direction with a determined gait, charging down the alleyway and up the stairs to the second floor.

Read on AO3

#clexaweek25 #10 years of clexa kisses #cttc!au #cttc au #my fic

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seriouslycromulent · 1 month ago

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Now That I've Binged All of Mid-Century Modern ...

... here are just a few of my thoughts on the show.

Warning: Below, be spoilers! If you haven't finished the 10-episode season, please keep scrolling by. If you have watched all of it, then by all means, feel free to agree or argue with me in the comments.

Now on to my blatherings:

Here on Tumblr, we need an acronym or abbreviation for this series to use as a tag. Because if we put it under the #midcenturymodern or the #mid-centurymodern tag, we'll have to weed through all the posts about interior decor and Googie architecture. Not that I don't love Googie architecture. Might I suggest #midcmod. Although, I guess we can also use #desertqueens. I'm open to recommendations.

I love how quickly the actors on the series seemed to find their characters. Most new series take at least 3 or 4 episodes before the actors get comfortable in their characters and truly feel like they know who that person is (you can tell because it often shows in their performances). But with this cast, they pretty much found it after the 1st episode. Kudos!

God, I'm going to miss Linda Lavin. 😔 She was such a great balance to the cast. Not just in the form of estrogen or age, but in the form of perspective. Like in ep. 6 ("Maid Serviced"), where she checked the guys about hiring a housekeeper for his looks and not for his ability to do the job, I appreciated it when she said something to the effect: "At my age, you have to fight to be seen. And I'm not going to fight to be seen in my own house." Respect. You go, Mama!

At first, I wasn't really feeling Pamela Adlon as Nathan Lane's sister, Mindy, because I thought she was too young to play his sis. But it turns out she's only about 10 yrs younger, so it's not that weird at all. Plus, the more we saw them together, the more I liked them as a duo. Especially when he put her in a headlock in ep. 8 ("Sour Pickleball"). 😏

I saw some people here on Tumblr bristle at the portrayal of Jerry (played by Matt Bomer) as the dumb, handsome one. But I kind of love this for him. Bomer is usually pretty serious or sarcastic in most of the roles he's known for, so seeing him kind of play against type is a bit refreshing. And it's clear that his "stupidity" comes more so from being sheltered in his Mormon/ultra-conservative upbringing than from simply being not very bright. I say let him cook.

My favorite episode of the 10 so far was the one where they go to Fire Island. I think it's ep. 5 ("Hello, Fisty's"). I appreciated how that episode subverted our expectations. Instead of the guys enjoying an evening of sensual debauchery, they got to share a part of themselves that reflected the person underneath the façade. A sexual interaction was replaced with a heartfelt one. 🫂

I know it shouldn't have been as funny as it was, but when Mindy made Jerry cry at pickleball in ep. 8, I literally laughed out loud. I don't know what it was -- it could've been how Bomer chose to play the scene -- but that moment was absolutely hilarious. Again, I can see how this role is allowing us to see Bomer's skill at comedy a lot better than anything we've seen him do in the past.

Speaking of comedy, call me a filthy foul-mouthed radical, but I appreciate how the show doesn't tiptoe around swearing or sexual interactions. I'm sure some folks at home will be clutching their pearls when they hear the first f-bomb dropped on the series. And don't get me started when they openly brought up pegging like it was nothing. But I like that it's a series clearly intended for mature audiences in every sense of the word. In that respect, it reminds a little of Grace and Frankie.

I hope if we get more seasons where we get to see more guest stars that we know the cast has worked with in the past. I loved seeing Judd Hirsch, Rhea Perlman, Richard Kind, and Jesse Tyler Ferguson on the show. If they get another season, I can only imagine how many people will jump at the chance to guest star.

I pretty much knew I would like this series when I saw that James Burrows was an executive producer and director on the show. I don't think I've ever watched a TV series with his name attached where I didn't like it.

With that said, the one running theme/joke that I'm not a fan of is the mini-dance breaks the guys do every now and then. It was kind of cute in the pilot episode, but every time after that, I would kind of watch through my fingers. 🫣 Now, I don't have anything against characters dancing in TV shows or film, but far too often ... well ... they just aren't very good and I often wish they wouldn't. I know that seems bitchy, because everyone should be allowed to dance if they feel like it. And it's totally realistic that this group would dance around their own home if the spirit moves them. But ... they really aren't very good and I find myself desperately wanting them to be better so I don't have to cover my eyes. All of them have lovely singing voices. And of course, they're fantastic actors. But as dancers ... um, yeah 😬. Well, they're certainly dispelling the stereotype that all gay men can dance.

So now that I've nitpicked about the one thing I don't like about the show, let me share my thoughts on ep. 9. ("Here's to You, Mrs. Schneiderman"). I was really shocked that the writers included Lavin's death in the show in the first season. I'm sure they probably had to, but instead of just easing into it, they really faced it head on and I respect that a lot. And can we give it up to Nathan Lane for his performance in that episode? 👏🏽 He was genuinely heartbreaking to watch and he played every beat so brilliantly. I knew Lavin passed before the show could air, but I just assumed that she died after they had finished filming, and they were likely going to address it if they got a second season. So the shock that hit me when they dedicated an entire episode to her in the first season was 🤯. It was so wonderfully written and genuinely moving that it just made me adore the show even more. Certainly this episode is more sad and sentimental than the other episodes, but it was not without the right dose of humor at just the perfect moments to make it match the tone of the series. God, I'm going to miss her. 😔

Final thoughts:

Even though it's just a 30-min sitcom, I can't reiterate how much I think the show gave us the laugh so many of us need right now with everything else going on in the world. I know some folks feel like the world has stopped or should be stopping and every day should be about focusing on fighting the power and death to tyranny and all that.

But I know my anxiety and overall psyche appreciates a break from the constant fear of dread, doom, and despair that permeates my thoughts every day. A laugh, a harmless distraction, a moment to remind us of our collective humanity is very much appreciated right now -- at least by me.

Also, I can't speak for anyone else, but I like sitcoms that deliver laughs while also delivering a reflection of our flaws, quirks, and humanity back at us. And by the time you reach the 5th episode, I think the writers had clearly found that sweet spot where comedy, pathos and heart intersect. And I couldn't be more grateful. 🫶🏽

#fandom #mid century modern #mid-century modern #midcmod #nathan lane #nathan lee graham #matt bomer #lgbtqiia+#lgbtq positivity #lgbtq #lgbtq community #desert queens

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reaper2187 · 11 months ago

Text

Verosika x female reader

In the bustling underbelly of Hell, there was no place quite like the vibrant streets of Imp City. Here, the citizens were always engaged in various forms of debauchery and mischief, but for Y/N, a hellhound who preferred the quieter side of chaos, the day had started quite normally.

Y/N worked at a nightclub as a bouncer, using her formidable strength to keep unruly demons in check. The job wasn't glamorous, but it paid well and allowed her to blend into the background, which she preferred. She never expected anything extraordinary to happen in her routine life until Verosika Mayday walked into her club.

Verosika Mayday, the sultry succubus pop star, was a name known far and wide. Her presence commanded attention, and her music had an addictive quality that enthralled demons across Hell. Y/N had heard of her, of course, but she had never expected to meet her, let alone have her enter the club she guarded.

It was a particularly busy Friday night when Verosika and her entourage waltzed in. The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the air was thick with the scent of various infernal substances. Y/N was at her post by the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for trouble. She almost missed Verosika as she strutted past, her entourage a swirling mass of sycophants and admirers.

"Hey, you!" a voice called out, snapping Y/N from her daze. She turned to see Verosika herself looking directly at her, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, you, the big bad wolf. What's your name?"

"Y/N," she replied, her voice steady despite the surprise. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss Mayday?"

Verosika's eyes sparkled with mischief as she sauntered closer, her hips swaying with each step. "You look like you could use a break, Y/N. How about you join me for a drink?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. This was not how her night was supposed to go. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm on duty."

Verosika pouted, a playful expression that only highlighted her beauty. "Come on, just one drink. I promise I won't bite… much."

Despite her better judgment, Y/N found herself nodding. She signaled to her coworker to cover her post and followed Verosika to a secluded booth. The succubus slid in gracefully, patting the seat beside her for Y/N to join.

"So, Y/N," Verosika began, her eyes studying the hellhound intently. "What brings a lovely lady like you to a place like this?"

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just needed a job, I guess. Bouncing pays well, and I get to avoid most of the drama."

Verosika chuckled, the sound low and melodic. "Smart and strong. I like that." She leaned in closer, her scent intoxicating. "Tell me, Y/N, have you ever been to one of my shows?"

Y/N shook her head, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I've heard your music, but I don't really do crowds."

"That's a shame," Verosika purred, her fingers brushing lightly against Y/N's arm. "I think you'd enjoy it. Maybe I can give you a private performance sometime."

Y/N's breath hitched at the suggestion, her mind racing. Was Verosika Mayday really flirting with her? She decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that."

The night progressed with Verosika regaling Y/N with tales of her escapades and adventures. They laughed, shared drinks, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt genuinely connected to someone. Verosika was charming and surprisingly down-to-earth, her glamorous persona giving way to a more vulnerable side that few got to see.

As the night wore on, Verosika leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, Y/N, I don't usually do this, but there's something about you. Something… different."

Y/N's ears perked up, her heart pounding in her chest. "Different good or different bad?"

"Definitely good," Verosika replied, her lips curving into a smile. "I want to see you again. Away from all this noise."

Y/N could hardly believe her luck. "I'd like that too. How about tomorrow night? We could go somewhere quiet, just the two of us."

Verosika's eyes lit up with excitement. "It's a date, then." She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N's cheek, her lips warm and inviting. "Until tomorrow, Y/N."

With that, Verosika slipped away, leaving Y/N sitting in the booth, a dazed smile on her face. She watched the succubus disappear into the crowd, her heart soaring with anticipation for what the future might hold.

The next evening, Y/N waited at a small, secluded café, her nerves getting the best of her. She had chosen a place away from the usual chaos of Hell, hoping to have a peaceful evening with Verosika. When the succubus arrived, looking effortlessly stunning in a simple dress, Y/N felt her worries melt away.

They spent the night talking, laughing, and learning more about each other. Verosika was more than just a pop star; she was kind, witty, and deeply passionate about her music. Y/N found herself falling harder with each passing moment.

As they walked through the quiet streets after dinner, Verosika slipped her hand into Y/N's, their fingers intertwining. "You know, Y/N," she said softly, "I've been with a lot of people, but none of them made me feel the way you do."

Y/N's heart swelled with emotion. "I feel the same way, Verosika."

Verosika stopped and turned to face Y/N, her eyes shining with sincerity. "Then let's not waste any more time. I want to be with you, Y/N. Just you and me, against all of Hell."

Y/N pulled Verosika into a gentle kiss, their lips meeting in a sweet, lingering embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the infernal beauty of Hell, Y/N knew she had found something truly special. And for the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged.

#lesbian #wlw #wlw post #helluva boss verosika #verosika x female reader #verosika mayday #verosika x reader #verosika helluva boss

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ww2yaoi · 1 month ago

Text

I was tagged by @youcalledmebabe for seven sentence (cough paragraphs) sunday. yippee!!

under the cut because the only stuff I have written rn is mildly inappropriate to just straight up inappropriate. sorry gang

Jay’s hands travel to Bill’s belt. He’s only able to tuck a finger around the clasp before Bill gently grabs his wrist and breaks the kiss. “Bill,” Jay rasps. He’s embarrassed by how needy he sounds, but all he wants is to touch Bill. It’s all he’s been wanting for months now. “What’s wrong?” Bill sighs and rests his forehead against Jay’s. “Nothin’, nothin’. It’s just— I’m pretty torn up.” “Oh. Uh—” Jay stutters. He freezes for a moment, then his hand drifts almost involuntarily towards Bill’s groin. “Is, um— Is your—?” “Oh, Christ,” Bill huffs, almost laughing. He gives Jay’s wrist a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t you fret, De L’Eau. My cock is fine. It’s the rest of me you gotta worry about.” Jay frowns. He’s relieved Bill made it out of Peleliu unscathed in that department — at the very least — but otherwise, he’s not too fond of what Bill’s implying. “I’m not worried,” Jay says and fiddles with the clasp of Bill’s belt again. “Why would I be worried?”

everyone has been tagged I’m pretty sure so I guess just enjoy the billeau debauchery <3

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dark-and-kawaii · 1 year ago

Note

I'm for disturbing you but I desperately need raphael who is so soft to the tav but tries to keep his act together in front of others which leaves tav chuckling which makes him blush aaaaaaaa

༺ 𝒜 𝒲𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝐹𝒶𝒸𝒶𝒹𝑒 ༻

Raphael

Notes: Firstly, you aren’t disturbing me!!! Secondly, thank you so much for this request!!! I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it!!! I love soft Raphael especially when he’s still in character!!!

Pairings: Raphael x Tav/Reader

Soft Raphael - Love - He Love His Little Mouse

In the midst of Avernus, a grand gathering was taking place. It was teeming with all kinds of devils, infernal beings, and wicked creatures, each indulging in their debauchery. At the center stood Raphael, his existence echoed with undeniable authority. By his side stood you, the object of his uncharacteristically soft affection.

Raphael, relishing in the attention, was entertaining a mesmerized group of devils with a tale of his prowess.

"I'll strike down Zarielle and all who defy me.” He declared, a devilish grin adorning his face. "Her imps torn asunder, their cries heard through Avernus in the wake of my wrath!" Yet, amidst his terrifying proclamation, a familiar chuckle reached his ears, it was coming from beside him. Turning sharply, Raphael sees you trying to suppress your laughter, your eyes shining with amusement. Without uttering a word, you walked away, disappearing into the sea of devils, leaving him with a tint of pink on his cheeks, his brows furrowing in irritation.

The other devils, ever so vigilant and quick to seize upon any sign of weakness, noticed Raphael's flushed cheeks. They took pleasure in mocking him, relishing the opportunity to undermine his reputation. "You sure you're going to strike Zarielle down when a simple mortal’s giggle nearly puts you on your ass?" jeered one, his voice dripping with malicious delight.

Raphael's pride was stuck, and he warned the imp's taunting words. "If you don't mind your tongue," he retorted through gritted teeth, "I'd happily demonstrate what it is I'd do to Zarielle."

Raphael, being easily irritated by anything that challenged his superiority, sought you out with a grimace. He navigated through the crowd, eventually locating you chatting with a group of lesser fiends. He seized your arm, his grip on you harsh and forceful as he dragged you away from the crowd. Spiteful and filled with frustration, Raphael grasped your chin forcefully, his presence emanating a wicked energy.

"Perhaps I've spoiled you too much, little mouse," he stated with a voice laced in spite. "What was the meaning of that little outburst of yours?"

You looked up at him meeting his piercing gaze, his beautiful brown eyes is like immersing oneself in warm melted chocolate, rich and enticing. The depth and intensity of his stare captivates, drawing you further into him… Standing on your tiptoes, you gently press your lips against his in a tender kiss. Raphael’s hands instinctively find their place on your hips with a gentle yet firm grip. His fingertips tracing the contours of your hip, grazing the fabric of your clothing.

As your lips part, you whisper in a hushed voice, "It's amusing to me how all the others are blinded by your wicked facade. They would never guess that the great Raphael, son of Mephistopheles, harbors such tenderness within." Your fingers trace a light path through his hair, "A fox's soft side, a treasure I alone possess,"

Your fingertips caressing his dark tresses, “You're not all sharp claws and fangs, but a creature who cradles his prey tenderly in the night." You smiled warmly as his face began to scrunch, his grip tightening ever so slightly but Raphael remained silent, "Protecting her instead of devouring her whole.” You noticed his reddening face and continued, "The mouse, enamored by the fox's gentle touch, yearns for its claws tracing down her back in every night's embrace when their souls entwine."

Raphael's cheeks flushed with a small blush. His defenses threatened to crumble, replaced momentarily with vulnerability. Yet, as he regained his composure, a sly smirk formed on his lips. "Oh little mouse," he retorted with an edge in his voice, attempting to regain his devilish demeanor, "naivety clouds your eyes, for wickedness resides where tenderness lies.” A dark chuckle emanated from Raphael, "Beware, dear mouse, of the sly fox’s cunning grace, as he may cast aside what’s left of his prey with no remorse to trace.” He looks off into his crowded house, his eyes finding Haarlep as his hand rests on his chin, “I’m sure Haarlep would surely make good use of what's left of you."

You, however, knew Raphael better than anyone else. You understood the possessiveness that fueled his words, the depth of his affection for you, "The fox is far too possessive to let such a fate befall his treasured mouse. Your threats only reveal how deeply you care."

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #haarlep #raphael x tav #raphael #raphael x reader #raphael the cambion

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sopebubbles · 1 year ago

Text

Hobi's babies

Pairing: bulletproof heart!hoseok x seokjin x reader

Wc: 10k

Warnings: threesome, oral sex: male and female receiving, vaginal sex, lots of dirty talk and pet names. I'm probably forgetting some things bc its been a while and i dont have time to reread this bitch, but nothing crazy.

Happy Thankstaking everyone!

A/n: So i sat down to write last night and instead just cried bc im too tired. But i didn't want to get your hopes up for nothing, so i went into the vault for this unreleased piece of filth. This one is for those of you who have stuck around since Bulletproof Heart. But if you didn't read that series, I think you can still enjoy this bit of debauchery.

❣️

Hoseok sucks harder on Yn's neck, relishing in the little moan that he pulls from her lips when he does so. He'd been too overwhelmed by the scent and the heat of her to behave while they watched a movie--now long forgotten--in her bed on Saturday afternoon. Yn’s nails drag down the skin of his back under his shirt. He's warm, too, as his body pushes down on hers. Heavy breaths from his mouth wash over her skin as he continues kissing her neck, traveling slowly down to her collarbone. Her lips find his shoulder where his oversized t-shirt has left his skin exposed. Hoseok grinds his hips down between her legs, letting her feel the distinct bulge in his pants over her covered core, which she knows is already sopping wet.

This has been getting worse recently. Not just with Yn and Hoseok either, but with Seokjin, too. It's been harder for them to keep their hands off each other. And harder to stop. That's why Yn made a doctor's appointment last week to get birth control without telling her mom what it was about. Because she didn't know how much longer she could resist both Jung Hoseok AND Kim Seokjin. Not that either were pressuring her, not purposely. But with two beautiful, sweet boyfriends, who would want to resist? It's certainly proving difficult right now, with her legs wrapped around Hobi's hips.

His hands find their way under her shirt—well, it's actually Jin's shirt that she's had for months. His fingers brush against her skin as he pushes the fabric up. Hobi pulls back so he can move down to kiss her tummy, his hands holding firmly to her ribcage as he covers her skin in kisses. When his lips press just below her breast, he knows he has to stop. He sits back on his heels, bringing his hands to rest on her bare thighs.

"This is getting harder," he tells her, heavy breaths raising his chest.

"Something sure is," she smirks, eyes glancing down to the tent in his sweatpants. He rolls his eyes and delivers a slap on her thigh as he sighs.

"I guess maybe we should talk about this."

"Talk about what?" She asks even though she already knows. As she sits up, her shirt falls back down to her hips, and Hobi frowns as she moves mere inches away, even as his hands remain on her legs. He waits until they're both settled and comfortable before he replies.

"We told Jin that no sex would happen until we're comfortable, so I think we should talk about it. Honestly, it's all I can think about these days, but I don't want to pressure you."

Yn touches her hand to his cheek. "Hobi, I don't feel pressured. I feel the same way, actually. And I'm ready. I want my first time to be with you. But…"

"Jin."

Yn sighs. She doesn't want Hobi to feel like he's not enough, but she knows they can't forget about Jin either. "I don't want Jin to feel left out, at least not from the conversation. Maybe he's not ready yet. And if he's not, I don't think he'd make us hold back, but we need to know either way. And if he is ready…" Yn looks away to the floor beside her bed, but Hobi takes the hand on his cheek as she begins to fall away and places a kiss in her palm.

"It's not how I imagined my first time, but I love both of you, and it would be amazing if we all had our first time together."

"Let's see if he's back from visiting his grandma then," Yn smiles and reaches for her phone. The two go back to watching the movie they had abandoned after Jin says he'll be home soon.

Jin smiles fondly when Yn opens her front door wearing his shirt, which is big enough to almost completely cover the pajama shorts she's wearing underneath.

"I like your shirt," he chuckles as he enters.

"Thanks. It's my favorite. A very sweet boy gave it to me once when I was sad," Yn recounts after she’s closed the door. Jin wraps his arm around the small of her back and pulls her close. His other hand cups her cheek and strokes it gently with his thumb.

"He must like you very much," Jin whispers, "to give you his favorite shirt."

"I never knew–" he cuts off her words with a kiss, somehow gentle and passionate, leaving her breathless when he releases her.

"Hobi's here?" Jin wonders, to which Yn only hums and takes him down the hall to her bedroom. "Hey babe," he greets the younger boy with another soft kiss on the lips as he joins him on Yn's queen sized bed.

Meanwhile, Yn sets about turning on various lights around her room to illuminate the space that had grown dark as she and Hobi lazed about all afternoon. Finally she comes to sit on the bed with them, a nervous smile stretching her lips as she completes their triangle, all three of them facing in toward each other. Jin rests his hand on Hobi's thigh while his other hand reaches for Yn's.

"You wanted to talk about something. Is everything okay?" Jin looks between the two of them. They both feel anxious but excited. Neither feels uncomfortable, having grown accustomed to Jin's need to talk things out but also always feeling calmer in each other's presence.

"Everything is great. Wonderful, actually. We just wanted to discuss something… important." Hoseok looks at Yn for a way to continue, finding the words difficult to locate. It's not any easier for her, so she chooses the most obvious ones, pushing them out in a rush.

"Hope and I had a talk earlier, and we think we're ready to have sex."

"Damn, babygirl. That was very to the point," Hobi laughs.

"And we wanted to know what your feelings were on that subject…at this time," she stutters, losing her confidence with Hobi's reaction.

Jin's eyes are wide as dinner plates. When they'd messaged to say they wanted to talk, he wasn't sure what he could expect. Of course, he considered the obvious negative possibility, but he didn't think it was likely. He hadn't even thought of this. Not that he hadn't thought of it lately. He was struggling to keep his hands off his boyfriend and girlfriend just as much as they were. It would be difficult for any hormone-fueled eighteen-year-old boy to hold back from being intimate with their significant other, and he had two that he not only loved very much, but who were also insanely attractive. Jin cleared his throat before he opened his mouth to utter a simple, "Oh."

"Of course, if you're not ready, that's totally understandable." Hobi places his hand reassuringly over the other boy's and gives him a gentle smile.

"Yeah, Jinnie, whatever you want, we'll completely respect that," Yn adds.

Jin's eyes soften, and a new smile spreads across his face. It's amused and enamored. He takes his hands out from both of theirs, and for a moment, their hearts race with panic. He turns first to Hobi to grab his head and give him a firm kiss before he releases him to do the same to Yn.

"I love you two so much," Jin sighs happily. "And I'm glad you brought it up because I don't know how much longer I could carry on like we were. I'm ready, too. Especially if it's with you."

All three of their faces are transformed by bright smiles expressing both joy and relief. Yn can't help leaning forward to throw her arms around both their necks, and neither fails to respond by nuzzling into her neck.

"Wait. Hold on," Jin interrupts their warm embrace and pulls away, allowing Hobi to pull Yn into his lap. "Don't pout," Jin teases when he sees the frown on her lips. "I just want to know what we're talking about right now. Are we talking about all three of us? You two? Me and Yn? Me and Hobi?" Jin is clearly starting to get into his head about it as his eyes drift away from his partners. Yn and Hobi smile at each other as they watch him become flustered over the permutations.

"We were thinking we would like us all to have our first time together," Hobi admits.

Jin's mouth hangs open, midway through a thought. "Cool. Yeah. Sure. A threesome for my first time. Cool."

Yn clamors from Hobi's lap into Jin's to take his face in her hands, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Jinnie, it doesn't have to be. If you're not okay with that, it doesn't have to be. You know we won't pressure you or do anything you're uncomfortable with."

Jin's broad shoulders relax under her gaze and her softly spoken words, and he smiles again.

"I'm never uncomfortable with you, heart." He leans forward to give her a peck on the lips and then looks at Hobi, who's watching them lovingly. "Of course all three of us should be together. I wouldn't want it any other way."

"You're sure?" Hobi asks, weaving a hand into Jin's soft hair.

"Of you two? I'm very sure," he replies, pulling Yn tight. Then his head snaps up with an idea. "Wait Yn, what about you? We should talk about birth control and-"

Yn stops his wheels spinning once again, this time with her hand to his mouth.

"I've taken care of it. I've been on the pill since last week."

"That means we could, hypothetically… today…"

"Get over here, babyboy," Hobi interjects, aggressively pulling Jin's face to meet his own in a rough kiss.

Yn slowly backs out of Jin's space, enjoying the sight of her two boys kissing, as she always has. She leans back into her pillow to take in the view, fingers rubbing her mound firmly over her shorts.

"Fuck, I really like that," Jin admits when Hobi releases him, fingers still locked into his hair.

"Feels good to be Hobi's baby, doesn't it?" Yn muses, to which Jin hums.

"What do you think you're doing all the way over there, babygirl?" Hobi asks, coming toward her with devious intent in his eyes.

"Waiting for you, daddy," she replies, loving the flash in his eyes and the teeth-baring grin, not to mention the low growl from his chest, at the use of that name. Once again, Jin is left staring in surprise as Hobi devours her mouth until the younger boy holds out his hand to him, inviting him to join.

"Come on, babyboy," Hobi smirks, and leads Jin's hand to Yn's bare leg when he gives it. Jin comes up onto his knees, following his hand up her body until his eyes look into hers once again.

"Tell us if you want us to stop," he says in a voice just above a whisper.

"I don't want you to stop," she assures him before she pulls him in to join Hobi in kissing her neck.

Jin's hand reaches the apex of her thigh and cautiously slips under the fabric of her shorts, fingers wrapping around her to give her a squeeze. Her legs fall open when he does so, and without thinking he lets his hand travel over her clothed pussy, causing her to breathe in sharply from surprise before her hips lift, just slightly, to meet his palm.

"You really want us, don't you, babygirl?" Hobi asks with his lips against the shell of her ear.

"Yes," she hisses in response when Jin finds the sweet spot on her neck. It's still tender from Hoseok paying extra attention to it earlier. That boy's teeth are now nipping at her ear lobe instead, causing her back to arch away from the bed as his hand glides over her stomach, stopping hesitantly just under her breast. She can sense how he's holding back before entering that uncharted territory. She's not wearing a bra and he's never felt her like that before, but she wants him to, wants to feel his large hands on every inch of her.

"Hobi, please. Please, touch me," she begs breathily.

"Fuck," Hoseok sighs into her neck at the sound of her whining. He'd give her anything if she begged like that.

In a second his hand cups her breast, gently pressing the supple flesh with his fingers. His thumb grazes over her nipple, dragging the most beautiful moan from her lips that travels straight from his ears to the growing bulge in his pants. Jin's hand, which has still been rubbing gently over her panties, follows his curiosity up to her chest. Finding her softness beneath his shirt, he gently pinches and rolls her peaked nipple between his fingers, making her squirm with pleasure. The two boys pull away to share a mischievous grin.

"Sit up, princess," Jin instructs thoughtlessly, the other two smirking at the new and unexpected pet name. "What?" Jin shrugs. "That's how I intend to treat you."

Yns smile grows as she follows his orders and when the two boys grip the hem of her shirt she raises her arms to allow them to strip it off her body. Instinctively, she pulls her arms back in to cover herself. Hoseok tsks.

"Don't hide from us, beautiful. You'll make us sad," Jin coos, pulling her wrist gently away and placing her hand on the back of his head. "We want you, too."

His mouth meets her skin once again, placing kisses of appreciation all over her chest before honing in on his original target. Yn's fingers slip into to Hoseok's hair as well, just as she whispers the other boy's name when his teeth capture her nipple, and he realizes he's been staring at her face this whole time, utterly awestruck that he's found himself in this situation with someone he loves so entirely. Still his eyes don't leave hers as he lowers his head to find her other peak with his tongue, not until her eyes slip closed in ecstasy. The boys smile slightly at each other as they listen to her moans. Their hands meet over her navel, fingers searching one another's skin for contact as they give her pleasure.

Yn can feel the jolts of electricity shooting straight to her core with each lick and kiss, only making her want them more, wishing they'd find their way to where she needs them most. But she doesn't want to be greedy or to rush. She wants to make them feel good as well, yet when her hands find their hips, touch their skin, both jump up in shock. Yn pouts.

"Angel," Hobi starts without knowing how to finish. Jin stutters. Yn pouts harder.

"It's not fair. You get to touch me and see me. What do I get?"

The boys look at each other before looking back at her and both slowly remove their shirts so they're all equal. She should be prepared for Hoseok's physique at least. She's seen him without a shirt before, at the pool and on other occasions. But it's been a little while and he hasn't been dancing so much, so she didn't expect to find such a well defined stomach on him. She can't seem to stop her fingers from gliding over his smooth brown skin, taught over the muscles of his abdomen. She sits up and leans forward in order to plant soft kisses all over his chest.

She's not the only one admiring him though. The boys look each other up and down, drinking each other in. And while Yn's mouth explores Hobi, theirs meet in a lustful, excited kiss. Jin's fingers in the other's hair pull him desperately closer, pushing his warm, soft tummy against her in the process. Finding herself unintentionally caught between them--a position she has come to find she loves-- Yn simply giggles and turns her kisses to the skin of the other boy. Her hands skim the waistband of each boy's pants. Both boys freeze once again as she palms the growing bulges inside of them.

Acting in unison as always, as if through telepathy, they swiftly take her hands and push her back down onto the bed, holding her hands hostage above her head. Jin's lips capture her own in a rough kiss, while Hobi's slowly work their way down her side, from her breast, over each rib and down to her own waistline. His fingers hook around the elastic and then he pauses. After a second yn tears herself away from Jin to look into Hobi's eyes. Reading the unasked question there, she nods confidently. She wants nothing remaining in between them, no barriers. She already knows she belongs fully to both of them, and she feels fearless in that conviction. Jin distracts her once more with his plush lips against her jaw as she lifts her hips off the bed, allowing Hoseok to pull her shorts away and her panties with them. Now fully exposed, the air seems colder around her, causing her legs to close involuntarily and goosebumps to raise on her skin.

"It's okay, babygirl. I'll take care of you," Hoseok promises, lips brushing the skin of her inner thigh as he spreads her legs apart. He sighs at the sight of her, wet and plump already from hours of anticipation. "Jinnie, baby, she's so beautiful," he coos. "So perfect."

Jin wants to see for himself, wants to take in all her perfection, too. But it's hard to tear himself away from her kisses. Hobi takes one of his hands from Yn's breast to coax him.

"C’mon, babyboy," he urges. "I want you to see before I ruin her."

Jin pulls away and she misses him already, but he still has one hand gently massaging her breast so he hasn't left her completely. As he moves down to her lower half he pushes her leg to the side so he can see her.

"He's right, princess. You are so pretty. So perfect for us." Jin murmurs as he strokes her thigh, not daring to touch her yet. Yn feels her cheeks heat and redden at their praise, but neither notice as their eyes fixate on the essence coating her slit. "She looks so sweet, daddy."

Hobi hums as his fingers graze her skin, swollen with arousal, and she shudders at his touch. The kisses he leaves on her move closer and closer to her core. His eyes look to the side, to Jin. "You want to taste her?"

Jin only nods as he watches the other boy. Tentatively, Hobi licks his tongue over her outer lips, breaking the seal at her entrance and they see her open up a little, enough to see how wet she truly is. Her moan is music to Hobi’s ears and all the encouragement he needs to have another try. This time he gets closer, sure to collect some of her juice with his tongue, getting his first real taste of her. He hums and takes another, licking from her hole to her clit. He turns his head to his partner and grabs Jin by the chin, pulling the boy's him and pushing his tongue into his mouth to let him taste her. Their sloppy kiss parts with both smiling, and Hobi guides his elder's mouth to Yn's heat. Jin fights off the voice telling him he has no idea what he's doing and takes a lick of her folds before closing his mouth on her clit and sucking gently. Yn's hips lift, begging for more while Hobi watches, lower lip tortured between his teeth as one hand strokes Yn's thigh and the other Jin's head.

"You're doing so great," he praises both of them, although he has very little idea himself. There's simply a sense of joy filling him up as he watches his two lovers.

"Our girl is amazing," Jin agrees as he pulls away, his lips wet with her, and allows Hobi to take his place again. Hoseok probes his tongue around her dripping hole as Jin works his way back up to look at her face. "You're so good, sweetheart. Did I make you feel good?" He asks, in need of reassurance.

Yn smiles widely at him, her eyes heavily lidded already from the pleasure he and now Hoseok have given her. She grips his neck and pulls him in to kiss her, tasting herself all over his mouth, but she doesn't mind. She simply wants more of him, more of everything and everyone. Hobi’s tongue finds her clit as her hand searches for Jin's waistband. He gasps when her fingers find his hardened length.

"Please don't pull away from me again," she begs in a whisper, eyes locking. "I want you, Jinnie. Unless you don't-"

A smile twitches at his lips. "No. It's okay," he assures her. "I'm nervous, but I want you, too."

"I'll be gentle," she promises as she slowly pulls down his pants to liberate his cock. Hobi's mouth never leaves her, but he watches on with curiosity and anticipation as Jin's thick, hard cock is released. Yn looks down at him breathlessly before she takes him in her hand again, delicate fingers barely managing to wrap nervously around his shaft. She knows she'll be destroyed by him later, but it excited her more than it scares her. Hobi pulls back from Yn's core to run his finger along her folds.

"Bet we'll have to stretch her out nice and good before she's ready for you, babyboy," Hoseok grins, but Jin hardly hears him as Yn strokes his length slowly with her soft hands. Hobi massages his fingertip over her wet entrance before pushing slowly in and hearing her take a sharp breath. He pauses inside of her.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, eyes softened. Yn merely shakes her head, the slight discomfort not worth stopping for weighed against the pleasure of having him inside of her at last.

Jin cups her cheek in his hand. "Tell us if it hurts, love."

"I'm fine. Please don't stop," she pleads, smiling softly up at him, but Hobi doesn't move again until he receives a nod from the other boy. He bends his finger experimentally inside of her, feeling her walls tighten around him and the soft spot just beyond her entrance.

"So fucking tight and warm, babygirl," Hobi hums as he removes his finger from her, spreading her arousal all over and gently rubbing her clit. "We'll have to take our time with her, Jinnie."

"That's okay. I've got all the time in the world for our princess," Jin tells him in a shaky voice, struggling to concentrate with Yns continued ministrations.

"Do you want to try something, babygirl?" Hobi asks quietly.

"What?" Yn responds without her eyes straying from Jin's.

"Suck Seokjinnie's dick, baby," Hobi suggests, much to Jin's surprise.

"N-no, you don't have to do that, sweet girl," Jin stutters. But Yn looks at him gleefully.

"I would love to, Jin. Please let me."

"Please let her, Jin. I wanna see how pretty she looks with your cock in her mouth," Hobi encourages as he continues to tease her clit.

"Only if you're sure, Yn," Jin stalls, but she is already grabbing at his hips to pull him closer. He manages to rid himself of his clothes completely before he scoots closer to her on his knees, as close as he can get to her. He takes his hard cock in his hand and strokes himself several times before he slowly guides the tip to her mouth. She leans in to meet his head with a soft kiss, her hand touching his gently as she reaches to take control. As he lets go, she sticks out her tongue to swirl around his smooth head, getting a taste of his precum when she licks him. She looks up at him with large doe eyes, seeking his approval and finding him already coming undone, with his eyes nearly closed as he looks down on her and his mouth hanging open. His hands rest on his hips, unconsciously pushing slightly forward to give her more.

"Take his head in your mouth, babygirl. You can do it," Hoseok instructs, watching from below. His middle finger plays at her hole again, coating the tip in arousal. "Use lots of saliva, baby."

Yn does as she is told, closing her lips around Jin's girth. She sucks gently, gathering spit in her mouth, and it draws a choppy sigh from him.

"I'm sure she's so good," Hobi muses with a kiss on her leg as he pushes his finger into her again and she moans on the other boy's cock. "Let me see that spit, baby." Yn pulls off to let him see the strings of saliva connecting her to Jin. "Fuck, you're doing great, angel. Spread it around with your hand and stroke his cock. Jinnie is such a good boy, too. I want you to make sure he feels as good as you feel. Can you do that, baby?" Hobi asks, curling his finger inside of her.

"Yes, sir," she moans, sending a chill down Hoseok's spine. She takes Jin in again, deeper this time and begins to bob up and down, lathering his shaft with spit from her tongue and stroking the rest of his long cock with her hand. Once all his shyness has left him, Jin's fingers find their way into her hair, pushing it back away from her face.

"Jinnie, if she's doing well you should tell her."

"Mm. You're doing… so well… princess," he manages to get out through his haze, but he means it completely. Nothing has ever made him feel so good, and the image of Yn below him, her wide eyes leaking tears as she takes him into her throat, the saliva gathering around her lips, makes it difficult to comprehend anything else. She's so beautiful in this lewd act, one he'd never dare to imagine with her, but Hoseok is talking to him and he knows he should listen.

"Do you think she deserves another finger, babyboy?"

"Mmm, yes," Jin groans. "Have to stretch her pretty pussy so she can take me."

Hobi grins, surprised by his frank dirty talk. "You wanna fuck our little princess?" Hobi spits into his hand and pushes in another finger. It's a very tight fit, even for his slender fingers, but yn opens her legs wider for him, eager for more as he stretches her.

"Yes. She looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth, just think how pretty she'll look when I fuck her." Jin drags his fingertips along her hairline, admiring her face, and takes hold of her jaw, fucking into her a little deeper. Yn can only try to relax and take what she's given as she continues to look into his eyes, transfixed by his words.

"I'm sure you're right, but I want to have her first," Hoseok announces. "Is that okay, baby?"

"Whatever you want, daddy," Jin agrees, reaching out for Hobi with the same hand to brush his hair out of his face.

"And my other baby?"

Yns mouth releases Jin with a pop, and she pants, her lungs burning for oxygen but she doesn't mind at all. She looks into his eyes while she answers but her hand still strokes Jin lazily. "Whatever you want, daddy. I'm yours. Completely."

"That's my good girl," Hobi grins. "But first, babygirl, you'll have to take more fingers, and you're going to have to cum for us. You can do that, can't you?"

"I think so," she answers hesitantly.

"I'm sure you can, angel," he murmurs supportively as he lowers his mouth to kiss above her clit.

"Jinnie, there's something I want," she whispers.

Jin leans his face closer to hers and kisses her red lips. "Anything you want, princess."

Pressing her lips to his ear she whispers again. Jin smirks back, pleased with her request, and leaves her with one last lingering kiss before he gets off the bed. Hoseok is lying half way on his side, his hips pushed up on one side by his bent knee to accommodate his erection. Jin comes to sit on top of him, straddling the leg that lays out straight behind Hoseok. He slides his hands over his skin from his lower back up toward Hobi's shoulders, massaging gently as he goes. Pressing his chest onto the other boy's back, Jin latches onto his neck with his mouth, knowing exactly where Hobi's most sensitive spot is. The smaller boy moans onto Yn, adding an extra layer of pleasure.

"We're lucky, you know?" Jin whispers in Hobi's ear as his hand snakes around to his chest, rubbing his nipple gently.

Hoseok's mouth falls open to ask, "why's that?" in a breathless tone before his tongue returns to Yn, his two fingers never ceasing their movement inside of her.

"Because Ynie is so beautiful and sweet. And she loves us so much."

"Yes," Hobi breathes as one of Jin's hands travels down over his abs, his teeth pulling at Hobi's ear. The large hand slips down between his warm skin and the elastic of his boxers, finding purchase on the boy's hard cock.

"And she wants us to feel good."

Hobi whines, feeling undone by the unexpected contact. "Is that what she whispered in your ear?"

"Something like that," Jin responds.

"Jinnie," Yn whines, both from the pleasure Hobi is still giving her and from how long Jin is taking to complete her request. Jin's mouth travels down Hobi's back leaving a trail of sloppy kisses as his fingers curl into Hobi's waistband.

"What are you doing?" He wonders.

"My lady wishes us all to be equals," Jin responds as he slowly removes the younger boy's clothing.

"Is that so?" Hobi looks back up at the girl's face above him. She looks back at him through cloudy eyes.

"Mhm. She wanted to see what she has to look forward to. And she wanted me to pleasure you, too," Jin tells him as he takes a firm hold of his partner's long, veiny cock once again. "Can I make you feel good, too, daddy?" He whispers to Hobi as he kisses his cheek.

Hobi loses himself in the ecstacy of the boy's touch. Not just the hand on his hard, throbbing member, but also Jin's chest pressed against his back and the cock rubbing gently against his ass as Jin moves his hips subtly. He forgets entirely about Yn's clit, but it's only a moment's interruption, as Jin's tongue is there to take his place. He can't say how long the moment lasts--minutes or hours--before a small voice breaks through the haze.

"Daddy?" Yn calls gently, half sorry for asking for his attention at all when she was enjoying the euphoric expression that graced his features. Hobi clears his throat and looks back up at her, the doe-eyed expression on her face calling him back to her.

"Yes, angel?"

"I want another finger."

He finds the meekness with which she asks endlessly endearing, and he's happy to oblige. "Of course. Jinnie?"

"Hmm?" He responds, opening his eyes again after devoting himself so entirely to his tasks.

"I want those pretty lips around my cock while I make Ynie cum," Hoseok commands, regaining his composure and his sense of control. Jin merely smiles in response and repositions himself to do as he's told, but not before he's pulled into a rough kiss. Hobi pulls his fingers out of Yn's pussy and puts them into his mouth, licking the essence of his fingers and replacing it with his spit. She takes his three fingers with a groan, fingers fisting around the sheets beneath her body. "You still okay, angel?" He asks as he rubs his thumb in circles over her clit.

"Mhm," she responds quietly, holding in a breath as she adjusts to the pain. It's more than she was expecting, but she knows it's necessary to get what she wants and it will go away soon. She's distracted by the boys below her moaning and props herself up on her elbows to see them.

Jin and Hoseok are tangled in each other, the younger one twisting at the waist to give the other access while Jin lays between his strong thighs. His long fingers wrap around the base of Hobi's cock, his thumb rubbing smoothly over the thick column underneath, while his tongue moves fluidly around his head and shaft. Jin wraps his lips around his pulsing head, leaving both his partners breathless. As she watches Jin take in more of Hobi's length, Yn clenches around Hobi's fingers, drawing his attention back to her. In addition to feeling her, he can see the way she's watching Jin's actions, both admiring and taking mental notes.

"Babyboy, I think Yn likes watching you suck my cock," Hobi smirks. "What do you think, babygirl? You like what you see? Or are you jealous?"

"Fuck," Yn moans when Hoseok gives her his mouth again, sucking her whole bud between his lips before rubbing his tongue quickly over her. "Jinnie is so pretty," she manages, her love agreeing with a hum. Jin's eyes look up to see her watching him, her hands clutching her breast, thumbs teasing her own nipples. Jin pulls away to rub the tip of Hobi's cock over his tongue, letting Yn see his full length and how it glistens with his spit. Then he takes the other boy back in, deeper than before, until he chokes. "Mm, Hope, Jinnie is such a good boy," Yn moans.

In response Hobi fucks her faster with his fingers, his tongue rubbing faster, as if to tell her that he agrees, and that they're both very good. She falls back onto her pillows as his actions push her onward, the tension inside her building until her hips begin to writhe beneath him and she cums with a cry.

"Fuck, Hobi. She's so pretty when you make her cum," Jin, who's never taken his eyes off her face, moans. Hobi's mouth releases her and his fingers slow as he presses soft kisses around her throbbing lips and quivering thighs.

"So pretty," he agrees. He pulls his fingers slowly from her, leaving her feeling empty, and comes to hover above her face, licking up her sticky essence. Jin moves forward as well, to clean up the mess Hobi left behind with his tongue. Hoseok brushes her hair back with gentle fingers and looks lovingly down at her, checking her eyes and face. "How do you feel?"

"Great," she smiles, still feeling dazed.

"You're bleeding a little. Are you sure you're okay? I didn't hurt you?" She can see the real concern in his eyes, even though they both know it's to be expected.

"I'm fine, Hobi. You made me feel so good. I loved it." Yn's eyes darken as they glance down and her fingers grasp his erection. Hobi's smirk returns.

"You want my cock, babygirl?" Yn bites her lip and nods. "I want you to say it."

"I need your cock, daddy," Yn whimpers, melting beneath him. He presses his lips to hers passionately, brushing her hand aside as he strokes himself.

"Get on your knees," he orders. Without a word to him, Hobi gestures for Jin to go to the head of the bed. Once he's claims Yn's former place he takes her her face in her hands to kiss her

"Did you miss me?"

She nods and smiles before she turns her head to kiss his neck, starting a trail that leads over his collarbone to his chest. His soft moans are interrupted by the sound of Hobi's hand falling harshly on Yn's ass. She yelps and turns back to look at him, but he's already rubbing the spot gently. He grabs her hips and pulls her further down the bed and thus further down Jin's body until she's hovering just above his thick cock.

But she doesn't have time to think about that just yet though, because Hobi is rubbing the tip of his cock around her entrance. He holds her steady with one hand on her ass while he uses the other to guide himself into her wet pussy. A moan slips past his lips when he feels how tightly she's wrapped around his head and he doesn't give her any more, slipping back out a moment later. He rubs over her soothingly once again. Jin smiles at her gently to ease her mind. He reaches out to touch her face, thumb brushing her bottom lip and she licks him, taking the digit into her mouth. Hobi pushes into her again, awed by how amazing her wet walls feel as they grip him while he sinks deeper into her as slowly as he can. Yn whimpers, looking Jin in the eyes as her own brim with tears. Jin leans forward to take her face again and kiss her.

"You're doing so well, princess. Daddy's gonna treat you so well." He glances up at the other boy's face, his eyes nearly closed as he looks down on his lovers. "You have no idea what you're doing to him, love."

She can't resist looking at him over her shoulder, pleased with the look on his face that's turned slightly toward the ceiling.

"Do you feel good, daddy?" Hoseok bows his head, his eyes opening a little more so he can see her more clearly.

"I feel incredible, baby. Your pussy is so tight. So wonderful." He groans, fighting the urge to move, but she does it for him, pushing her body forward slightly, meeting Jin in another kiss. This makes Hobi chase after her, pulling her back by her hips. She moans loudly when he thrusts into her, harder and deeper than before. He didn't mean to. He just got excited. He pauses briefly before he hears her one little word.

"More," she pleads and pushes Jin back onto her pillows.

The two boys smile at each other as Hobi begins to move his hips, slowly at first. Long, even thrusts evoke soft moans from her, and as she adjusts, she has attention to return to Jin's still hard cock. Despite the lack of attention he's turned on by seeing them fuck, admiring their bodies in the process. It's like a private show just for him. Yn licks her lips and waits patiently with her tongue out, ready to receive him as he guides his cock to her. She takes him down happily as Hoseok quickens his pace. Jin lets his head fall back when he feels himself hit Yn's throat. The wet sounds of yn gagging on his thick cock turn both boys on even more, and there's no holding back now as they both thrust into her. She's never imagined feeling so full and complete as she is now with the two boys she loves buried deep inside of her. The fingers of one of Jin's hands knot into her hair, keeping her head down, while the other hand laces his fingers with hers. Hobi's hand lands on her ass with another smack.

"You're doing so good, baby," Hobi moans. "You both look so good for daddy. Fuck, I love you both so much," he groans, feeling himself come closer to climax but not wanting this to end.

"Are you gonna cum inside her, daddy?" Jin wonders, noticing the desperate look on the other's face. Hobi grabs onto Yn’s arm and pulls her chest up, tearing her away from Jin who watches breathlessly at the strings of drool dripping from her mouth as she was unprepared to move. He strokes himself as he watches Hobi pull the girl flush against his body, one hand holding her by her breast while the other turns her chin and grips her neck, still fucking her passionately.

"Should I fill her up with my cum, babyboy?" Hobi asks as he stares into Yn's hazy eyes. "Maybe you just want your turn?" he laughs.

"No. It's just that I want you to feel good, and I wanna taste your cum in her pussy," Jin admits, stroking his cock faster at the thought. Hoseok feels his own cock twitch at the suggestion.

"Play with her clit for me, babyboy," he instructs before attaching his mouth to Yn's, swallowing her moans as he continues to fuck her. Jin licks his fingertips and begins to rub her sensitive bud as he comes to his knees before them, their skin brushing, heat rolling off of all of them. It's only then that he notices the sweat that's begun to roll down her body, a rivulet dripping from her neck down between her breasts, and he laps it up happily before he latches onto her nipple and sucks hard while he continues rubbing circles around her clit. Her second orgasm crashes over her, creating spasms through her whole body and when she clenches around him, Hobi can't hold back any longer, coating her walls with his warm cum. She can barely hold her body up, but luckily she has two boys to help her. Sandwiched between them, she lets her head roll back onto Hobi's shoulder and he takes the opportunity to kiss her exposed neck.

"Are you sure this is your first time? Because you seem to know exactly what you're doing," she whispers through the aftershocks as he continues small thrusts inside her, milking himself dry.

"I promise," he tells her between kisses. "I've just thought about it a lot. And then, some things just occur naturally."

Jin has stopped rubbing her clit at least, but his hand hasn't gone far as his fingers rub the base of Hobi's cock. He can feel the sticky mess they've made together thats already leaking out of her and he gathers some on his fingers.

"Open," Jin tells her and she leans her head forward, obeying without question and allows him to shove his fingers in her mouth, lapping up the tangy mixture with her tongue. When Jin pulls his cleaned fingers from her mouth Hobi pulls her mouth back to his, licking his tongue deep inside to get a taste for himself.

"Mmm. You good, babygirl?" He asks gently, pressing his forehead to hers as he strokes her hair. She nods and hums, incoherent and a little tired. "You're incredible. I love you," he murmurs with another softer kiss. Jin gently pulls her mouth to his.

"You've done so well, princess. Do you want to take a break?" He asks in a soft voice, assuring her it's okay. She shakes her head and wraps her arms around his broad shoulders.

"I want you, Jinnie," she smiles happily.

His hands travel up and down her sides as he responds. "Not quite yet, sweetheart," he tells her and she pouts. "Don't be sad. I just want another chance to taste your sweet pussy again, that's all. Then I swear my cock is all yours." He unwraps her hands from his neck and gives each a kiss before he lays back flat on the bed.

Yn looks back at Hobi, unsure of exactly what she is supposed to do. He kisses her temple and pushes her forward by her hips, his considerable length slipping from her messy pussy.

"Go on, babygirl. Give him what he wants," Hobi encourages as he pushes her up Jin's body until Jin is able to lead her the rest of the way, until her heat is hovering just an inch above his face.

He uses his tongue to clean her up, licking between all of her folds, soothing her skin in the process. When he's decided she clean enough and she can only keep herself upright by holding onto to the headboard, he wraps his hand around her thighs and pulls her closer, where she has no escape as his tongue explores her core, probing so to eat up every drop of Hobi's cum that he can and rub against her g-spot. She begs for mercy he won't give. Her legs shake and she whimpers, but Jin gets a surprise of his own when he feels Hoseok's hands around his shaft, his tongue and lips following close behind.

"Fuck, Jinnie, your so big," Hobi praises between lavish licks. "I hope you don't hurt our sweet girl," he smirks. Hobi continues to suck him for a minute longer while Jin sucks unforgivingly on Yn's clit, until suddenly an arm wrapped around her waist pulls her away. He centers her hips over Jin's.

With one hand stroking her hair, he holds the other infront of her mouth. "Give me some spit, baby," he commands. Yn spits into his palm and he does the same before rubbing their mixture on Jin's already saliva covered cock. Hobi rubs the round head of Jin's cock against her clit a few times before he aligns him with her entrance. Yn pushes herself down to take him in, biting her lips to muffle the cry leaving her throat as he stretches her more than ever before. She's only ever had her own fingers.

"Ynie?" Jin calls her attention with his gentle hand on her thigh. "Are you okay?" She merely nods her head.

"It's okay, babygirl, take it slow," Hobi tells her quietly. "Jinnie's cock is all yours. You can take your time, right Jinnie?"

Jin's head is clouded with the pleasure of her tight walls around him, but he nods and strokes her thighs soothingly. "I'm yours, baby, no rush," he agrees. He's worried about her, terrified of causing her pain. But he knows she knows she can stop anytime, that no one would be bothered. She wants him and he can see it in her eyes when she looks down at him.

Yn let's herself sink further on his cock until she's taken all she thinks she can. Her legs are burning though and she leans forward over him before she dares to move. Slowly she rocks her hips, gliding carefully up and down his thick cock as Hoseok watches, stroking his own while his other hand caresses her curves.

"That's it, babygirl, just like that," he encourages.

"God, you feel amazing," Jin sighs as she moves above him. His hands take hold of her hips and guide her movements as she gets used to how full she is of him and tries to keep a steady rhythm.

"There's so much of you, " she smiles as she moans.

"But it's all yours," he reminds her, lifting his head to give her a kiss. Jin's hand slide up her slick back to hold her still as he moves his hips, fucking into her faster, making her cry out in pleasure to the beat of his thrusts. Hobi jerks himself off as he watches him fuck her harder, her screams of ecstacy adding to his arousal. Knitting his hand into her hair he pulls her back up, and standing, shoves his cock past her lips. He holds her head in place so he can fuck her mouth, even as she continues to moan for Jin. Yn holds her hand out for Jin and he takes it, pulling himself into a sitting position as well. Yn pulls Hoseok's cock from her mouth and pushes him into Jin's, who sucks the other boy graciously. Cradled into Jin's hips still, Yn fucks him slowly with smaller movements. Jin removes his mouth from Hobi only for a second so he can share him with Yn. Their tongues and lips glide in unison along his long shaft, caressing each vein as Hoseok throws his head back, guttural sounds of pleasure escaping from his throat. He leans forward again to be able to look at his two precious lovers, doing everything they can to please him as Yn cups his balls in her small hand and Jin gently rubs his taint.

"That's so fucking good. Mmm you're so good," he whimpers.

Yn pushes Hoseok's cock back into Jin’s mouth, watching him take the other boy's long member down his throat while she grinds her hips in circles on him.

"You hear that? You're such a good boy, Jinnie. You make daddy so happy. And you look so sexy doing it. Fuck-" she moans as she sinks deeper on his thick cock. Jin looks into her eyes as he moans at her praise. He pushes his middle finger into her mouth for her to suck on and cover with spit before he teases Hobi's asshole with the same finger. Hoseok curses in delight, digging his fingers into both their hair and drawing their eyes up to him.

Suddenly, she takes Hobi's cock from her partner's mouth and takes him down as far as she can, gagging herself loudly as she looks up at her daddy with big eyes.

"You better share, babygirl," he admonishes her. She pulls him from her mouth enough to let Jin lick his beautiful shaft while she sucks on his head. Hoseok begins to crumble as Jin's finger pushes playfully into his anus. "Fuck, babies, I'm gonna cum soon," he warns.

"Please cum for us, daddy," Yn whines.

"Mm, yes. Cum all over us. Wanna see what our princess looks like covered in your cum."

"Fuck, Jinnie," Hobi moans, that much closer just by the image he conjures. He takes his own member again and strokes it quickly above their faces, which are waiting giddily with their tongues out. "Damn, you two are so hot. How did I get so-" Hobi groans loudly as his orgasm hits him, "lucky." Thick silvery cum spurts from his cock onto the waiting pair, hitting their lips and chins and falling onto their chests as they're pressed together. They take a moment to admire each other before Yn licks whatever is left from Hobi's tip, making him shudder. He sinks to his knees beside the pair and pulls them close to him, all three of their tongues moving together as they kiss. Jin pulls away to taste the cum on Yn's chin, pulling her hips down at the same time. She moans into Hobi's mouth with the movement. He holds her there a moment longer before releasing her to clean up the mess he's made on Jin's face, which she does greedily. Jin holds her close, moving his hips rhythmically and enjoying the filthy wet sounds made by his dick inside her pussy. Meanwhile Hobi moves behind them to rest against Yns pillows, leaning on the headboard.

"Come here, babygirl," Hobi commands, causing them both to stop their movements. Jin kisses her one last time before he releases her and she crawls across the bed, in between Hobi's legs. He kisses her once and then turns her around, bringing her down to lay her back against his chest and talks in her ear, just loud enough for Jin to hear, while he rubs her breasts. "Time for you to have a rest, little one. But we still want Jinnie to cum for us, don't we, baby?" Yn hums her agreement. Hobi reaches down to open her legs as he looks up at the panting boy. "She's all yours, Jinnie."

Jin smiles and leans down to take a few licks of her pussy adding his own spit as lubricant before he kneels at her entrance and slowly pushes into her. He's enchanted by the way she stretches and envelopes him so tightly, enthralled by watching her tiny pussy swallow his thick cock.

"You're taking me so well, princess," Jin praises as Hobi presses kisses to the side of her head. When he's sure he's not hurting her, he begins to move faster. He pushes her legs back and Hoseok holds them behind her knees.

"Play with yourself," Hobi whispers in her ear, and she obediently reaches down to rub her clit. "That's right, babygirl, play with your clit while you take Jinnie's big, fat cock. You're doing so well baby." She continues rubbing as the pressure becomes too much, and Hobi can tell. "That's it, baby, you can do it. Let him feel what it's like when you cum all around him. Let him feel your sweet cunt," he growls in her ear as she has another shattering orgasm. He holds tightly to her spasming body, keeping her safe as she cries out from the overwhelming sensation. Hobi notices Jin begin to slow down. "Don't stop. She can take it, can't you? You've got me. You can take it. I want Jinnie to fuck you til he cums, too. Make him feel good, won't you, babygirl?"

Yn is unable to form words and she clings to Hobi’s arms. He releases her legs and cradles her to give her some comfort as she looks desperately into his eyes. Her body pushes onto his with each powerful thrust from Jin, who keeps pounding into her with pleasure.

"You're okay, baby. We love you. And you're doing so good," he coos as he caresses her hair and kisses her face. "Isn't she pretty when she cums, baby?" he asks Jin. "Isnt she pretty when you fuck her? Just like you said."

Jin watches them as he goes deeper and faster into her. "So fucking pretty," he grunts. "She's so beautiful and she's ours, daddy. Fuck, I'm gonna cum soon."

"Good, baby. Cum on her tummy for me. I wanna see you paint her up so pretty and nice," Hobi smiles.

Jin pulls out quickly, leaving Yn suddenly empty, and gives just a few quick strokes before his cum shoots out, reaching all the way up to her breasts, leaving abstract lines all over her abdomen. He remains above her on his knees, panting, spent.

"Come here, babyboy." Hobi holds out his hand and Jin bends over to be received by him, his pulsing cock grazing Yn's stomach as he does so. Hoseok kisses the boy with his hand on his neck, a reward for his hard work. "Come, take her," he tells Jin, who falls down beside them. Hobi slips out from under her and gives her a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'll be right back," he whispers before he gets off the bed and leaves the room, grabbing his pants on the way out.

Yn turns her head to look at Jin through heavily hooded eyes. "Hi, Seokjinnie," she says tiredly, reaching for his hand to entwine their fingers.

"Hi, Ynie," he smiles, laying on his side to look at her.

"Did I make you happy?" she wonders.

Jin looks at her softly, touching his hand to her cheek. "You made me very happy, sweetheart. I couldn't be happier. What about you? Was it too much for you? Did I hurt you?"

She smiles gleefully despite her exhaustion. "I'm great, Jinnie. Tired. I'm sure I'll be sore. But I loved every moment. Don't worry."

Hoseok returns carrying an armful of water bottles and warm wash cloths. He places the bottles on Yn's bedside table and then sets about cleaning Jin up first.

"I can do it," Jin offers as the other boy wipes his face, but Hobi brushes off his hand.

"Let me," Hobi smiles softly and continues tenderly wiping the sweat and cum from his body, all while yn lies between them, but her eyes are closed and she's paying little attention. "Perfect," Hobi proclaims with a kiss pressed to Jin's plump lips when he's finished. "Now, let's take care of you, angel."

He hands a warm, wet towel to Jin and they both clean her very gently as soft, sleepy sounds come from her lips.

"Jinnie, she looks cold," Hoseok notes quietly as he takes the wet cloths and puts them in her laundry basket. Without needing to think about it, Jin pulls Yn to him with her back to his chest. Hobi returns to get into bed with them, pulling the cover over all three of them as he lays facing them.

"How are you?" he asks Jin, his thumb gently brushing Jin's cheek.

"I'm amazing," Jin replies with a smile that makes his eyes almost disappear as he nuzzles into Hobi's hand.

"Today was...unexpected. Next time I promise we'll be prepared. We'll make it all about you, babyboy," Hobi vows, running his fingers through his lover's hair.

"I won't say no to that, but I promise, I'm fully satisfied." Hobi leans over to give him a soft, lingering kiss before he settles back down.

"Are you still with us, angel?" Hobi asks, petting her cheek.

"Yes," she responds quietly, forcing her eyes open to look at Hoseok's sweet face.

"Hi," Hobi smiles fondly, light in his eyes.

"Hi."

"Did we push you too far, my love?" He worries.

"No!" she responds eagerly. "I loved it. I knew I was safe with you."

"I'll always keep you safe," he promises with a kiss to her forehead.

"We know. Thank you for taking such good care of both of us," Jin expresses gratefully. He holds Yn tightly and kisses her shoulder, emphasizing that he's thankful for Hoseok's care of her as well.

"You don't need to thank me," Hoseok denies with a shake of his head. Looking between their two faces, nestled together, he thinks of just how much they had given him--how much they always give him. He scoots closer so there's no space between him and Yn. "I love you both so much more than words can say. You're mine, and I'm so grateful. What we had today was incredible, and I can't wait for more, but first and foremost, you're my sweet babies, and I'm always going to care for and protect you."

Yn beams at him. "We love you, too, Hope. And we're lucky to be yours."

Hoseok pecks a kiss to her nose. "Go to sleep now, little one."

She's grateful for the permission, but sorry to close her eyes on his sweet face. She snuggles more deeply between the two of them, feeling warm and secure.

"You, too, my prince," Hobi coos.

"Aren't you tired?" Jin wonders.

"I am," Hobi answers, leaning his head into his pillow, and caresses Jin's arm. "But I want to watch you sleep for a little while."

Yn's eyes open slowly. She's surprised to find her head cradled in Hobi's shoulder and no one behind her. Hoseok doesn't realize she's awake until she turns her head to confirm Jin's absence.

"Did Jinnie leave?" She asks, and Hobi can hear the disappointment in her voice.

"Look how sad you are," he chuckles, plucking her pouted lip with his fingertip. "Jinnie is just in the kitchen getting us something to eat."

"Oh," she breathes. "You're watching tv? And you're dressed." Hoseok hums. "Did I sleep too long?"

He turns his head to see the guilt in her eyes and strokes her cheek. "Of course not, little one. We just woke up a little while ago. We're just relaxing. You sleep as long as you need. Go back to sleep if you want. No one is leaving," he assures her.

"I don't want to sleep. I want to spend time with you." She pulls herself closer and snuggles into his side. He responds by turning on his side and wrapping both arms around her. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Mmm...late," he replies casually.

"You're gonna stay with me all night?"

"Of course, babygirl. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He kisses her lazily, holding her there for several minutes until her bedroom door slowly opens and Jin backs in with a tray of food.

"You and Namjoon really live off the stuff in your pantry?" He asks, shaking his head.

"We survive," she laughs and Hobi laughs with her.

"What did you manage to get?" Hobi wonders.

"Well, it's mostly ramen, but I also got some cookies and chips." The pair in the bed sit up while Jin puts the tray in front of them.

"Hey, you're wearing my shirt," Yn pouts.

"It's my shirt," he reminds her.

"Debatable."

"I'll leave it with you when I go," he pledges, but she continues to pout at the thought of him going.

"I guess at least it will smell like you. That might comfort me when I'm all alone."

Jin rolls his eyes. "Speaking of shirts, you need one." He hops up from the bed to go through her drawers.

"Does she though?" Hobi questions, eyes scanning he'd chest.

"She can't eat hot noodles with no shirt on, Hoseokie," Jin tells him as he searches.

"Sad, but true," Hobi frowns, but his expression soon changes to a smile when he sees which shirt Seokjin has chosen.

"What?" He wonders when the other two giggle as he slips the article over her head.

"That's my shirt," Hobi smiles, amused.

"Do you own any of your own clothes?" Jin asks as her head comes through the neck hole.

"I have two boyfriends, why would I?"

"Jin doesn't have any of my clothes." Hobi shakes his head as he picks up a bowl of noodles.

"Actually…"

"What?"

"Well, you left your green sweatshirt at my house last month, and it smelled like you, so I never gave it back." Jin blushes cutely.

Hobi chuckles, endeared. "I guess you can keep it, just because you're so cute."

"Thank you." Jin grins. "Now eat up."

"Wait just a second." Yn interjects. "Hobi, don't you have something to add to this conversation?" She looks at him accusingly.

"No," he replies quickly before he shoves noodles into his mouth.

"Oh, yeah? So where is Jin's Ramones shirt?" Jin's eyes go wide as Hobi stops chewing.

"Yah! I knew someone stole it!" Jin shouts, much to Yn's amusement.

He chews quickly and swallows, practically choking. "I didn't mean to steal it! You left it on the bench in the locker room and I was going to take it and return it to you...but then I tried it on and I liked it."

"Thieves. Thieves everywhere," Jin laments. "You're lucky I love you." The others finally pick up their bowls and begin to eat and it's quiet for a few minutes.

"I'll go clean up," Yn says as she scrambles over Hobi to get off the bed. "Do you guys need anything?" As soon as her feet touch the ground she finds her legs weak and wobbly, collapsing beneath her. She catches the edge of the bed and Hobi holds onto her just in case.

"Damn, we really overworked you, huh, babygirl?" Hobi chuckles, but there's sympathy underlying his tone.

"I'm a little sore," she admits, though it hadn't bothered her until just now.

"Get back in bed. I'll take care of the dishes," Hobi tells her, pulling her back on the bed by her hips.

"No," she whines. "I'll feel like a bad girlfriend if you both come over here and cook and clean for me."

"Aish. What do you mean 'bad girlfriend'?"

"Yeah, baby, we're the ones who fucked you up. Let us take care of things, princess," Jin offers.

"You two stay here. Pick a movie and get comfortable. I'll be back in a few minutes." Hoseok picks up the tray and begins to leave.

"Can you bring me tea?" Yn pouts, even though she knows she doesn't need to. Hoseok simply smiles and nods and hurries to the kitchen. "What do you feel like watching?" Yn asks, handing Jin the TV remote.

"Something nice we've seen a million times?" He suggests as she wraps herself around his back. He shrugs to ease his muscles as she leans into his neck.

"Does it hurt?" She wonders with a light kiss.

"Just a little, from sleeping funny, I think." He shrugs again. She pulls away and begins to massage his shoulders the way he likes while he continues to search for something, moaning lightly to let her know when she's found the right spot.

-----

Lol this last part wasn't really needed but I could resist the little bit of fluff bc I always torture you with angst. I also didn't know how to end it so I just left it here and you can imagine how they all three take care of each other 🥺

#bts fanfic #bts jin #bts hobi #poly bts #2seok x reader #bulletproof heart #bts smut #threes0me #bts x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts #thankstaking

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music-as-a-haunting · 2 years ago

Text

time for me to answer the question thats been plagueing this fandom (me) for centuries (minutes)

How Often Did the M*A*S*H Crew Attend Mulcahy’s Services?

Colonel Blake

Henry would attend for holidays and whenever he felt he had a personal crisis. Lorraines affair, his second child, those were times where Henry would be on the front pew trying his best to focus on the sermon (and failing, groaning with his head in his hands and distracting the father terribly).

Colonel Potter

Colonel Potter is almost always there Sunday morning, 5 minutes before so he can nab his usual spot (even though everyone knows not to sit there). The only times he doesnt make it (besides emergencies of course) are those rare, beautiful mornings where his body practically pulls him up and onto Sophie for an early morning ride.

Major Freedman

Sidney tries to attend a service whenever he’s in town, mostly because he enjoys Francis’ unique perspective in his sermons, but he also has a self described intellectual fascination with all different religions. He has all different religious scriptures in his office in Tokyo, he brushes up as often as he can so he can better relate to his religious patients.

Majors Houlihan/ Burns

I put these two together because they only go together unless the other is sick or indisposed, in which case the former doesn’t go at all. They attend regularly unless they’re preoccupied… 😉

Major Winchester

Charles never cared for church, he almost never goes unless he’s truly bored out of his skull- or on holidays. When he lived with his parents in Boston he would make excuses to why he wasn’t able to attend, a habit he curiously continues with Pierce and Hunnicut even though they couldn’t care less. All about keeping up his image, I guess?

Trapper/Hawkeye/BJ

Another case of both parties going or neither going at all. Trapper and Hawkeye wouldn’t go unless they could tell Francis was low in spirits, both trying to lift him up by attending and singing the hymns as over-the-top as they could. Hawk and BJ keep that tradition alive, but BJ drags Hawkeye to a few additional services when he can, too.

Klinger

Klinger LOVES going to church even though he isn’t religious. He gets to show off his best outfits, sing his heart out, and (most of the time) spend quality time with Mulcahy, Potter, and Radar. He only doesn’t go when he’s too hungover or tired from excessive weekend debauchery but he keeps a lid on that since he loses most of his money gambling on Fridays.

Radar

Radar didn’t go to church as often when Henry was in command, though he still attended at least once a month as a promise to his mother. He goes more often now that Potter is around because of that paternal bonding he doesn’t even realize his subconscious is seeking. He also genuinely likes sticking around to ask Mulcahy questions about the bible. He loves some of the larger than life books of the old testament- people like Sampson and Androcles remind him of his favorite comic book heroes which Francis invokes to help him relate to the scripture.

#m*a*s*h #mash #mashposting #hawkeye pierce #charles emerson winchester iii #max klinger #trapper john #sidney freedman #charles winchester #colonel potter #sherman potter #radar o’reilly #margaret houlihan #frank burns #bj hunnicut

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alkhale · 2 years ago

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If it is not too much....can we have more decade swap please mommy alk? 🥺🥺🥺

Miss Memos so much 🙏🙏🙏

I HAVENT BEEN CALLED MOMMY YET BUT I HOPE THIS HELPS DURING THE WAIT

Shanks is somewhere in his twenties

Every now and then between the Blues and across the seemingly endless expanse of the Grand Line, an island appears.

It was never a designated island in particular. Whatever island could manage to make such a name of itself and manage to keep its reputation would eventually spread word, and sure enough, people would flock to its shores. Some islands that attempted to boast this specific purpose found themselves either failing to uphold true neutrality or ended scorched and sunk from a series of skirmishes with the marines.

A neutral island, people would call it. A meeting point. Pirates of all walks and Blues and statuses would gather here, and people who wished to do business with such pirates would navigate their waters.

A neutral island, on paper. A pirate playground, by word of mouth.

It was this very island get-away in particular that young, not quite young to most, but perhaps still young in the old eyes of the world—"Red Haired" Shanks found himself docked alongside his now notorious crew.

The bar thrummed with life. People and pirates flooded the inside like an overflowing mug of grog, beginning to spill out over the top. Music filled the air, leaving not a space for silence or stillness. Snarled curses flew across tables, slurred stories between bowed heads, and sweet words coaxed from wet lips against willing ears.

Shanks let all of it envelop him. He let it wrap thickly like a sheet. A wide, playful grin stayed perpetually stretched over his lips and he laughed with banter, jeered when jostled, and whispered huskily when spoken sweetly to.

His now infamous captain was always a man who enjoyed having fun above all else, so he'd seen it perfectly fit to dock their ship amidst the hub of pirates seeking their fill of freedom, fun or pure debauchery.

(Shanks was somewhere between the first two, but those who wanted to share his bed might speak differently.)

He sat now as proof up against the bar top. Two beautiful women hugged the seats on either side, a half-full bottle of wine—something more bitter in taste, harder and expensive—sat waiting to be grabbed by one of the beautiful hands to be poured into his mug. He'd meant to stay with the grog, since grog he could drink like water before he barely felt a buzz in his fingertips.

Wine came with the intention of something more, and he was still trying to decide whether or not to indulge in that sort of offer presented to him.

Shanks was older now. A roguishly handsome man with the kind of bounty on his head to turn multiple heads. Enough to make an ambitious marine drool and a seasoned vice admiral scowl. Amongst other crews, he was a powerful man, one of many on his ship, but one of the strongest, and that drew eyes.

Hateful eyes, envious eyes, admirable eyes—

Lustful eyes.

Women who'd spent the night, the evening, or morning with him would often describe him as such:

"His shoulders are big," they'd say. "Broad. You could rake your nails down them and feel endless."

"He's handsome," they'd swoon. "Dashing, a true criminal that one. That sculpted, clean jaw, those playful eyes..."

"His biceps are like corded ropes," they'd grin. "He could lift you with one, keep the other free to—"

"He's sinfully strong," they'd sigh. "Hold you like you were nothing, keep you seated right on his—"

"His words are sweet," some would murmur, looking a bit lost. "But he isn't truthful. He doesn't lie, that one. But his lips and his kisses... Hmm, I guess I'm a bit jealous, that's all."

There'd been a period once where Shanks had never been too particularly indulgent, to be truthful. It'd happened without him realizing it. Shanks could flirt and flirt and talk sweet, and then the moment lips would whisper in his ear and eyes would shift to a closed door—he'd laugh, something sweeter, and then he'd be off.

It was Buggy who'd called him out on it. Sore, when another beautiful woman had been left wanting and Shanks was looking like a dazed idiot, staring out across the sea.

"It's because you're still obsessed," Buggy had accused. Shanks had look at him, affronted. "You're all talk, Red Hair. Since you last saw them at the end of that crazy fight, you've become the worst you've ever been!"

"What fight?"

"The one that nearly tore the ocean apart! That was the last you saw of them in the past year and it's haunted you since!"

"Who?" Shanks said dumbly, still staring out across the ocean.

"You know who, you buffoon!" Buggy shouted. "I knew—I knew nothing good would ever come of this since you first made googly eyes at one of the most dangerous women you could ever even look at—"

"Dangerous," Shanks played with the word on his tongue. "She is, isn't she?"

Shanks knew exactly what memory Buggy was speaking of. It was seared, branded into the back of his mind.

(That beautiful woman. Her eyes. Her blood. Her blade.)

Many images of that day, in fact, remained with him still. Some more beautiful than others, and one lingering sharply, bitter—

(A moss haired swordsman cutting through the carnage, like cleaving waves, to stand at her side. His arm curling over her hip, pulling her to him when the dust settled, his lips hidden in her hair as he said something to her ear. Her eyes, finally relaxing, drooping with fatigue. A trust to be able to show such vulnerability. How he practically carried her, leaning her body against his—)

"See!" Buggy shrilled. "Listen, Shanks. You can dream all you want, I have plenty of fun fantasies myself. But you know why I'm never afraid for me?"

"Why?" Shanks sighed. Buggy jutted a finger against his chest and Shanks leaned back a bit in surprise, caught off guard by the truth in Buggy's next words.

"That's because you're a man who wants. And a man who wants never just settles for dreams."

"Buggy, have you eaten something bad?"

"You're the one who's eaten something rotten, idiot!" Buggy screeched, nearly throttling his crewmate. "Forget it, you're hopeless!"

To be fair, Shanks had tried what Buggy suggested. Buggy was convinced he just needed to get it out of his system. He'd even somewhat convinced himself the same. Maybe the wanting was just... carnal. Maybe he was creating a vision of something for himself, a dream to obtain, and it wasn't fair to do to her. No, never to a woman like that.

So Shanks had played the game, and he'd played it well. He had his fun. He went to bed with pleasure. His true heart belonged to the sea anywho, to his crew, to what laid in store for them at the end of it all.

(There was just nothing he could do, you know, about certain nights. About wisps of images in the corner of his eye. Of long, elusive strands of silver white and eyes like gold beneath the waves.)

The woman on his right was a local, one of the barmaids who was trying her luck. One beautifully manicured hand kept a possessive grip over the sculpted slope of his forearm, her thumb rubbing circles into the side of his arm the other woman couldn't see. The woman on his left ought to be some pirate for a crew he wasn't familiar with, but she drew his attention from time to time with stories of her exploits on the sea.

Stories.

"What kind of story will you tell, brat?"

Laughter filled the air. Someone shouted something behind him and the music resumed, flooding the space. Shanks laughed at something the woman on his right said. He spared a glance over the top of his mug to the back of the bar. Two wide double doors opened up to a sort of back patio, where the cool salty breeze filtered in. He could see pillars outside holding the establishment up, wound tightly with thickened vines heavy with some kind of flower.

"I'm sorry ladies," Shanks said smoothly, standing up from the bar. The women looked up, startled, but Shanks offered them a charming smile, easy and placating. "I just need to step outside for a moment... you won't miss me too much, will you?"

"Maybe a bit."

"Not at all."

They looked at each other with a scowl and Shanks grinned, smoothly slipping his way through the thundering crowd and finally slipping outside.

The breeze kissed his cheeks. Shanks let out a soft, easy groan as he stretched his arms over his head and let his feet carry him out of the shadow of the bar. Perhaps he'd stroll through town, get something to eat. Maybe find Buggy and bother him.

There was a whisper in the air, like a sigh.

Shanks felt something curl, like a finger ghosting up his spine. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Brat," she murmured, almost amused. "Going for a little walk?"

Shanks turned sharply on his heel, so sharp he almost stumbled. The breeze billowed the open chested white shirt around his arms. It tousled his hair, pulling it free from his gaze so he could see with utter clarity.

The divine sight laid out before him.

Long stems of blooming white flowers wound up the pillars outside the bar, holding up the balcony alcove hidden amidst the second floor she must've stowed away for herself. They interlocked in heavy blooms, a shade too white to match her hair. She leaned up against the railing of the balcony, lounged on her side like a goddess, one finger lightly brushing against a flower as she gazed quietly down at him.

What few patrons might have known of her presence must have thought it wiser not to comment on the fact that she'd been there, leaving the infamous woman to her devices.

Shanks felt his pulse begin to thrum at his fingertips. His feet carried him before he'd thought anything else. A slow, curling grin pulled wide over his mouth. He felt that familiar trill, a lulling pulse of energy in the air, a thought that perhaps—

(This world was amazing.)

His eyes shone brightly, pools of sunlight.

She narrowed her eyes in almost suspicious amusement at the sight.

"Dove," Shanks said, because he'd never promised to be one for subtly. "It's been an eternity."

"Eternity?" she tilted her head to the side, a swooping wave of silver white following over the bare curve of her shoulder. Shanks felt his pulse quicken. "It can't have been that long."

"I didn't even hear a whisper of you being here," Shanks said, stepping closer to the pillar so he could look directly up at her and she gazed down at him. "if I'd known, I would've never left your company."

"We arrived only just tonight," she said loosely. Shanks saw now she was nursing a pretty colored bottle and he licked his lips. "Had a bit of free time on my hands."

Shanks' hand laid itself along the pillar. He tugged on the vines, testing their strength. "A beautiful woman like you," he began, as though he were witnessing the worst crime committed in this world, "all by her lonesome?"

She huffed a sort of laugh. "Mmm, I'm never alone, boy."

He was far from being a boy, but Shanks continued to grin, slow and easy, eyes bright with mirth. "Is there room on that balcony for two?"

Hoku the Immortal shut her eyes for a moment in contemplation. She tilted her head, as though listening for something.

"I suppose it depends," she said finally. Those piercing eyes watched him languidly. "I don't want to invite something more than I can handle."

Her expression became one of startled amusement as Shanks' hands quickly dug into the vines, his body scaling up the pillar with frightening haste.

She laughed, the sound lighting like fireworks in his ears as he snapped with one hand long stems along the way, crushing them between his fingers until Shanks quickly hauled himself over the top of the balcony railing. He looked up, almost frazzled, once smoothened hair now askew as he caught his breath and grinned widely at her, eyes shining.

His breath staggered in his throat. From below had been but a taste—now he could see her clearly, vividly.

In a rare sight she'd discarded the large cloak she'd always kept with her. Perhaps because of the warmer temperatures of this summer island. Shanks could see the bare slope of her shoulders, the teasing dip of her collarbone hidden by her thin white top. The warm tan of her skin under the dappled moonlight, her curves, the long stretch of her legs over the bench—

She didn't wear her usual sturdy pants tonight. Loose billowy black shorts down to her knees took their place—perhaps a pleading change from one of her more fashion savy crewmates, maybe they were going for more of a vacation look, Shanks thought in the back of is head.

Hoku had one leg crossed over the other knee, foot swaying in the air. The knicked and scarred skin of her thighs appeared before him. He'd never known before she had a tattoo there on her left one—a design hidden still to his eyes, he couldn't quite make it out.

He thanked vehemently whoever's idea it was.

Shanks swallowed with a breathless grin.

Hoku raised a brow and Shanks leaned over the top of the railing, holding out the slightly bent flowers to her as an offering.

"Dove," Shanks said sweetly, "It's a dream to see you again."

Hoku snorted, shaking her head with a somewhat exasperated chuckle. Still the older woman gently took the flowers from his grip, her fingers brushing fleetingly against his and Shanks almost curved his own to try to hook them against his hand.

Hoku pulled away with ease, lightly stroking the bent petals and gently beginning to weave the stems together absently. "I hear you've been making quite the name for yourself these days."

"You listen for word of me?" Shanks said.

"Only if it manages to reach my ears," Hoku said lazily. Shanks pouted. She wove another two flowers together.

Shanks dared to take a seat on the space beside her legs. She shifted them only slightly, not quite accomodating him, but she didn't usher him away either. He didn't know if he ought to feel wounded, the way she seemed to consider him a lighthearted presence than a threat, as though he were just another cat who'd decided to take a seat here.

But if such thoughts allowed him to be here, this near—

Shanks would take what he could get.

"What brings the King of Pirates and his crew to this fine little island?" Shanks asked easily, one finger tracing the wooden pattern etched into the bench.

"A meeting with some old friends," Hoku said absently, fingers still moving along the flower stems, but her eyes flickered back over to the view from their balcony. "I assume you've come to play?"

"To pray, actually," Shanks said. Hoku raised a brow, looking at him. Shanks grinned. "To whatever god I must for a chance to see you again."

Hoku set the woven flowers down in her lap. She shifted slightly, looking at Shanks with a narrowed hint of amusement.

"You're always talking sweet," Hoku sighed. "I suppose this is a trait men like you must bear the burden of carrying."

"Men like me?" Shanks said, sounding wounded. "Dear dove, you think I'm not earnest in my pursuit?"

"Pursuit?" Hoku echoed, raising a curious brow. "Of what?"

"Of one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on," Shanks said, eyes half lidded now, almost dreamy as he looked. "Of one of the greatest treasures the ocean's ever offered."

Hoku laughed. Shanks could grow drunk off the sound alone. "Brat... I still think you're biting off more than you can chew. One of these days you'll talk sweet to a woman like this and find out she might give you more than you can handle."

"I don't talk to other women like this," Shanks said lightly, softer. Hoku's gaze turned at his drop in tone and she watched him curiously, almost warily as he simply watched her in turn, never taking his gaze off of her. "I stumble in the shallows only for you, dove."

(Shanks treated any respectful woman in his company with grace.)

But he'd started to think as of late, perhaps without realizing it, that there was only one woman he'd like to worship.

"You've dug yourself a grave, Shanks," he thought he could hear Buggy curse in his ear. "A watery grave."

Hoku hummed, shaking her head at him. She leaned back, making herself comfortable amidst a few cushions as her fingers resumed their work.

Shanks could feel the heat from the skin of her ankle at his fingertips. They itched now to trace lightly up her leg, smooth his hand along her skin.

"Dove," Shanks said. "Will you tell me a story?"

Hoku raised a curious brow now. Shanks felt his grin widen over his lips, just shy of cheeky. Time had passed, after all, and Shanks would be a fool to not have learned.

(How do you entertain someone who's seen all this world has to offer?)

You don't.

"You want to hear one of my stories?" Hoku humored him. "Or one of my crew's?"

"Whichever makes you the happiest to tell."

Hoku's fingers paused briefly. She weighed Shanks' words and glanced again out toward the island's dark horizon. He sensed it since he scrambled up this balcony that something strange seemed to be weighing on this beautiful woman's mind, but he wasn't quite sure what.

Hoku reached out and grabbed the bottle sitting beside her. She offered it to Shanks who took it quickly and smoothly with grateful hands, a boyish sort of excitement curling in his gut now.

"I was never one for charity," Hoku said slowly. Her fingers tied off the stems together. "Tell me a good tale and I will share one of mine in return."

Shanks straightened to attention, bringing the top of the bottle to his lips. "One of mine?"

"Doesn't have to be one of yours," Hoku said, reclining back against the cushions. Shanks thought in his mind's eye she appeared like the very image of a goddess ready for worship, waiting to be amused. "Any good story."

Shanks took a long sip of her drink. He let out a small groan at the taste, unexpectedly sweet and smooth, almost crisp. Hoku huffed a laugh of amusement.

"It's delicious," Shanks said earnestly.

Pride flickered shamelessly across her face. She looked pleased at his words, leaning back and gazing again over the balcony. "A special blend from my hometown. One of my favorites, if I'm in the mood."

The sweet burn of it left a trail down his throat, all the way to the curling edge of his stomach. His fingertips.

"I have a love story then," Shanks said, low and husky. "The Sailor and the Gold Mermaid."

Hoku raised a brow, leaning her cheek against her palm. She closed her eyes, waiting. Shanks took a moment to admire her visage, the smooth shape of her eyes, shut to the world. The silver gray of her lashes. The slope of that deep red tattoo curved like a heart above her eye.

"Once there was a sailor who fell in love with a mermaid," Shanks began, bringing forth his best voice—the kind his captain loved when they were weaving tales by the fire. The kind that brought his crew to his side, listening with grins. "She was a beautiful mermaid, with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard with scales made of gold. Hair that shimmered beneath the waves."

Shanks took another swig of Hoku's drink, savoring the sweet taste. He leaned lightly against her leg, keeping his hands locked politely around the bottle should they betray him.

"Every day the sailor thought of how he could woe the mermaid. Each sunset she would come, sitting by the rocks to watch him and he would attempt something new. Flowers. Gifts. Songs. Each day she would see what he brought and disappear back into the water," Shanks pouted. "The sailor was heartbroken."

Hoku's lips curved into a faint grin at his exaggerated tone. Shanks leaned forward, as though sharing a secret. "Until one day the sailor had an idea. All of his friends had warned him against it, saying it wouldn't end well—but still he persisted."

The breeze tousled their hair. Shanks watched it carry hers lightly, teasingly.

"The sailor got on his knees with a bucket of water and he began to mold the sand. The mermaid was curious, wondering what he was up to this time, so she stayed upon her rock, watching him work," Shanks mimicked the motion with his hands even though Hoku kept her eyes closed, listening in silence. "It became clear to her with a gasp that he was forming a mold of her! Out of the sand he worked tirelessly, and curious, she watched, waiting to see his finished product."

Shanks noticed Hoku's foot stop swinging atop her knee. She adjusted her legs instead, pressing her knees toward the balcony railing. Like this, however, her leg pressed into his side. Shanks could feel it with every breath.

"Finally the sailor stood, turning to where he heard the mermaid gasp and he said, 'My love, this I offer to you, a testament to your beauty!'"

Shanks threw his arms out wide. His elbow settled over the top of Hoku's knee. She waited, listening intently to his story.

"The mermaid let out a louder gasp," Shanks began, raising his voice several pitches to mimic the mermaid's—"How can that be me? I look hideous!"

Hoku's eyes blinked open, flickering over to him in curiosity. Shanks' grin became breathless. He changed his tone, resuming the role of the sailor:

"This is the best that I could do to be true to your beauty!" the sailor said sadly. "Is this not in your likeness?"

"Look at it!" the mermaid cried. She dragged herself closer to him, pointing in a fury. "These lumps, that shape, this doesn't look anything like me!"

"Forgive me, my love," the sailor almost wept. "For I am blind!"

Hoku coughed in surprise, turning to Shanks with something like a laugh on her lips. Shanks laughed, heartily and full of mirth. He clasped Hoku's knee, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"The mermaid was stunned," Shanks swept on. "She asked the sailor how he possibly could have fallen in love with her when he had no idea how she looked. The sailor looked sheepish now and told her it had been her voice which won his heart."

Hoku hummed in amusement, seemingly pleased with the turn of events. She shut her eyes again, as though she were imagining the story in her head. Shanks set Hoku's drink down, carefully leaning forward.

"The mermaid brought herself closer to the man, reaching for his hand." Hoku paused as Shanks lightly wrapped his fingers around her wrist, loose, polite, and she did not draw away as he brought her hand then to his chest. "She brought his hand to her and said, 'Feel then, the shape of me.'"

Hoku kept her eyes closed, face relaxed, almost lazy. Shanks brought her palm against his bare chest, letting it rest there. He moved the other hand which had been resting on her knee, moving his fingers along the length of her leg, down to her ankles, lightly tracing his fingertips over her toes.

"Feel my scales," she said.

Shanks lifted Hoku's leg with both his hands now, light, caressing. Her brows furrowed slightly. Her skin twitched underneath his touch.

"Trace the shape of my body," she murmured.

Shanks' lips brushed almost slightly against the inside of her calf, his breath ghosting warm against her. Hoku's eyes opened now, sharp with wariness as she made to draw away.

Beneath her fingertips she could feel then—the fluttering of his heart like a bird. The nervous, loud staccato beneath her fingers. Hoku looked at her hand and then to Shanks, freezing briefly.

(Under the heat of that gaze.)

"'Now,'" Shanks whispered against the inside of her leg, "'try again.'"

Shanks' lips made to kiss the inside of her knee, eyes half-lidded, almost drunk of the presence of her, of the thrill of this moment, of the whirling, pulsing nerves and the rushing waves in his head—

Hoku's hand was replaced with her foot, her leg jerked swiftly free of Shanks' longing grip. He paused, halted now with her foot pressed solidly against his chest. Hoku kept him at bay, watching him with a cool gaze, leaving him unable to dive into their depths.

Shanks pursued no further, instead offering her his most charming grin.

"Brats like you," Hoku said slowly, "are dangerous."

Shanks' gaze lowered playfully at her.

"But brats like me," Shanks said sweetly, "are nothing Hoku the Immortal should fear, no?"

Hoku's eyes narrowed at him, lacking malice but in warning. The way a stray cat would look if you ventured too close for its comfort. Shanks still heard his pulse thundering in his ears.

"That story reminded me of one I'm very fond of," Hoku began airily, "so I won't throw you off this balcony, whelp."

Shanks continued to smile at her, his most charming yet, and Hoku simply regarded him for a moment.

Hoku looked a little fond then, somewhat exasperated as she looked at him.

"You aren't a bad story teller at all, Apple Haired Shanks."

Before Shanks could utter another word in response, Hoku disappeared with a simple flicker before him. Shanks blinked, once, twice, stunned into silence as a large boulder promptly took her place, slamming down into the bench and nearly crushing his outstretched hand.

Shanks jumped to his feet, whirling around and rushing up to the balcony railing.

Hoku appeared in the distance at the beginning of the town's pathway. She hovered in the air for a moment and Shanks noticed now the entire film of translucent blue that seemed to surround all of them. A firm hand reached out, taking hers and that film of blue disappeared as her feet touched the ground, lowered by that hand.

Shanks' jaw went slack in disbelief, slumping somewhat against the balcony as Hoku's figure in the distance simply raised a hand to him, waving once before she disappeared in the hulking shadow of her companion.

"Damn," Shanks murmured, leaning his cheek against his palm. "What a woman."

His gaze strayed to the side and he paused, reaching out with his hand. Shanks brought the flower crown up to his gaze, inspecting the careful way it'd been woven before he set it on the top of his head, sighing once more.

"Next time, Shanks, you'll get 'em next time."

. . . . . . . . .

"You could've just called me," Hoku said, looking a bit amused as she looked up at her companion.

"Seemed like I was interrupting something," Law said slowly, eyes half lidded as he regarded her coolly. "That's a dangerous brat to be entertaining."

"He's a hard urchin to shake off," Hoku sighed in exasperation, but she grinned a bit then. "Not a bad story teller though, I'll give him that."

Law scoffed, pulling his hand from hers. He stood tall beside her, shoulders broad and expression dark as always as his black feathered cloak fell about the both of them.

"Besides, you know me," Hoku grinned, nudging Law's side. Her eyes brightened when she noticed her sandals loose between his fingers against his side. She reached for them. “I prefer my paramours to be older. People aged a bit beyond their years, fine like—"

Law's hand hooked around the side of her waist, pulling her flush to him as he stooped low enough to say into her ear, low like a warning—

"You're forgetting who's the older one between the two of us."

Law waited for a moment, eyes watching Hoku, lowered and dark. His longer fingers curled fully over her hip.

Hoku promptly turned to Law with a sigh, looking up at him in clearly fond exasperation.

"Oh, Traffy, how will I ever explain it to you..."

"Your captain's finally ready to listen to the plan," Law said flatly. He dropped her sandals for her and Hoku grinned, sliding up close to his side to slip them on despite his scowl. "There won't be time to entertain rookies after this."

Hoku hooked her arm through his with a hum. Law continued to scowl but he didn't push her away.

"Time for the tide to change, huh?" Hoku murmured, leaning her head against Law's side.

Law's cloak enshrouded the both of them as they disappeared along a pathway, heading to the shore where the people she would sail to the end of her days awaited her.

#memos #memos au #memos age!swap au #shanks #hoku #trafalgar law #i think ive been having too much fun writing shanks lately #its helping me get back into the swing of memos tho #ty all for these asks and tidbits #and thank you for reading!

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