#he tops up for the premium drinks

[leclercskiesahead]

This is sending me

[yeyinde]

stalker!Simon decides to have a little fun with his favourite camgirl.

the message comes up halfway into your "show."

it's a boring night. slow. you wear a lingerie set one of your viewers sent in beneath a silk robe, all in a pretty pastel pink—cliche, but it works; an uncomfortably disgusting version of hair theory unfolding in front of your eyes—and discreetly chug wine when you twist away to grab a new toy. a series of pale pink vibrators, nipple clamps. mundane depravity for what's shaping up to be a lacklustre night.

but the money that pours in from these little shows (adult version of classic party games—hide and seek, would you rather, truth or dare) is one step closer to erasing your debts. student loans. car payments. rent. you smile so wide it aches, and put your best face on when you blink, coquettish and coy, at the camera where nameless, faceless men throw money in a ring for a scrap of your attention.

tonight's game is Simon Says. and it's supposed to be normal. boring.

but a message from a viewer named Simon (in a sea of many who cheekily changed their usernames to match the theme of the game) stands out.

Simon says... go lock your door.

you blink. between all of the Simon Says touch yourself for me baby, pull your shirt down, lemme fuck you for real it sticks out. a change in the routine.

you huff, pouting. "already did that, Simon. c'mon, gimme something else to do, honey."

another one pops up. Simon says... you shouldda got a dog.

your brows furrow. "that's not part of the game, Simon. i'm gonna move on—"

Simon says... open your door.

he's paying you handsomely. dropping coins, large amounts of money, for each message to shoot to the top. little superchats. why he isn't taking advantage of it and paying you to do something sexy, something lewd, unnerves you. your heart starts to race, thudding against your ribs almost painfully.

it's fine, you think. he's just a creep. a loser. "uh huh, not part of the game, Simon. i'm afraid i'm gonna have to cut you off—"

you block him. they don't normally get under your skin like this. ever. at all. even when they throw random names in your dms, hoping one of them happens to be yours, and try to blackmail you to your fake friends and family. it doesn't bother you as much as this. as him. get a dog. how absurd.

the next series of chats pass without the same odd comments. take your bra off, but leave the robe on. act coy, like you don't want to—

creeps, you think, in their own right. but. paying ones. so, you smile. stiff. uncomfortable. grinning so wide it hurts. pretending to ignore the strange unease growing in your guts. your eyes sliding back to the superchats saved in a glowing log. let me in. a troll. whatever. it's nothing. nothing. you'll drink wine after this, scrub your skin raw in the shower and buy yourself something pretty with the money these greasy losers threw your way—

Simon says... let me in.

you feel your heart in your throat. it can't be him. you blocked him. you have mods to keep trolls out of your chats, but wonder—hopefully—if maybe it failed. maybe they found your stream are just being weird. strange. but when you check, the filters are on. he's a registered user. paid the premium to watch you. to get an invite to your special game nights. it makes it worse, you think, that he paid to be here. to do this.

your hand shakes. you block this user, too, ignoring the discomfort churning inside your chest. the fear spiking along the nape of your neck. hair raising. there's a prickle on your skin. the feeling of being watched

no. it's fine. you're fine—

"ah, what else should i do, Simon?" you ask your viewers, pulling on another smile. one that hurts. aches. wobbles around the edges. you'll end the stream in a few minutes. order Thai food. drink yourself stupid. take the day off tomorrow. use this creeps money and waste it. blow it on something stupid. dumb. laugh about it with your friends.

your shoulders dip. the tension easing. you're fine. you're at home. the door—

you locked it. right? you definitely, absolutely, locked it when you brought in the package from the delivery driver. the massive, hulking man who loomed in your doorway, too wide, even, to fit inside, and growled out in a low, brassy timbre: sign 'ere. you took the pen, pretending he wasn't drilling holes into you with his gaze, eyes liquid in the dark. intense. wanting. and then scurried inside—

back pressed against the door, hands wrapped around the lingerie set.

you glance at the chat. "which Simon bought me this cute set? i'd like to thank them personally," you murmur, forcing your shoulders to drop. it's fine. you live in the middle of nowhere. no one is coming to your door.

there's no takers in the chat. you shift on the chair, licking your lips. "it's really cute, Simon. a perfect size, too, and i just—"

something catches your eye in the corner of the monitor. a movement. a slight shift. a whisper of fabric. you tilt your chin, peering into the hazy black reflection.

what you're looking at doesn't make any sense. your bedroom door is open. a curtain of black drapes over the wall where the pale strip of light doesn't reach.

the washroom light is still on, a yellow spill illuminating the hallway, but nothing is there. no one is in the hall. but you know you closed your door. you always do when you stream. your heart trips over itself. leaps to your throat. you almost choke on it—

another bubble pops up. Simon says... hey. uh, who is that guy behind you?

there's a ringing in your ears. your hair stands on end. something moves again. the black mass wasn't a shadow. it moves. takes shape. the covered head nearly reaches your ceiling, body filling the entirely of your room. massive. a mountain you remember thinking. a fucking mountain, you texted your friend. thighs the size of tree trunks—

a hand reaches out, grabs hold of your power bar. thick gloved fingers curling over the button. in the bluegreen glow of your computer screen, a man steps out.

"glad y'liked it, pet." the deep, brassy drawl sends shivers down your spine. you try to scream, mouth opening wide to choke it out, yell for help—

your chat bubbles up, feverish in their excitement. you skin through the messages, stomaching churning as it clicks in your head. their rabidness isn't about saving you, but—

(omg he's gonna fuck her pron??? we're getting pron????? no fucking wayyyyy god i wish it were me—)

this isn't a fucking bit, you morons, you want to howl. call the fucking police—

but he gets there first. two strides. it happens in a blink. the screen goes back and he's on you in seconds.

you're not even sure how someone so big, so heavy, could move that quietly—

"ah-ah, none o'tha' now," his hand curls around your neck, tight. choking. you try to fight but he just huffs, breathing in deep, chest expanding across your spine as his other hand snakes around your waist, trapping you against a corded forearm. he bends down, nuzzles his jaw into your crown. coos:

"Simon says... turn around for me pretty girl, an' be good, now. went through all this trouble t'find you. think i deserve a little reward—"

[usomads]

All-Inclusive // Jimmy Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> Ahhhh I love this one 🤭 Been working on this for a bit so I hope y’all like it! Also: I’m thinking about making a tag list for my stories… is that something y’all would be interested in? Lmk and as always, happy reading! 

Plot -> You knew being at an all-inclusive suite included everything like drinks, food, etc., but you didn’t know you’d find yourself getting even more.

Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Fingering, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Choking, P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.8k

“A closet full of clothes, and yet I never know what to wear to these things,” you muttered to yourself, sifting through hangers trying to find something you could work with. Articles of clothing scattered the floor around you as you stood frustrated, trying to throw something halfway decent together. It was always like this for these events, you always knew exactly how to do your hair and makeup but for some reason the outfit was something you could never figure out. You and your boyfriend, Jonathan, were going to a WWE Premium Live Event, and since he wasn’t booked for this card you decided to get a suite with some other wrestlers and their spouses to watch it. Well, maybe, if you could find something to wear.

“Baby!” Jon calls from downstairs, “we gotta go! We’re gonna be late, you almost ready?” He makes his way to you in the closet, noticing you were still trying to get yourself together.

“Go ahead, I’ll head there in a bit. Still tryna find an outfit,” you sighed, clearly annoyed at yourself. Jon wraps his arms around your waist from behind and plants a kiss to your cheek. “Alright, baby girl, just don’t take too long, okay? I know Bianca and Jade are dying to see you, it’s been a minute since y’all been together.”

“I know, I know, I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” you smiled at him as he gave you another kiss and left for the arena, while you went back to sorting through your closet. After about 10 minutes of staring at the same clothes on hangers you were close to texting Jon to let him know it wasn’t happening tonight, when something caught your eye. A black silk button up was nearly hidden behind all the other clothes hanging up, but you saw it. And it would go perfect with this new skirt I bought too. Grabbing it from the rack, you were able to get a closer look. It was for sure oversized, and you were trying to remember where you could’ve gotten it from. It didn’t matter anyways, because you were already throwing it on along with the new skirt and a simple pair of black heels. You made your way to the full-length mirror in your closet, adjusting the buttons on the top to tease your cleavage modestly, but enough to make them noticeable. Giving yourself one last up-down in the mirror, you were satisfied. More than satisfied, actually, you looked stunning. You shook your head and laughed, the annoyance and stress of the past hour and a half feeling silly now that you had finally found something to wear and it paid off. You grab your phone off the dresser and call a driver to come get you, grabbing a small bag to take with you as you head downstairs and out the door.

“Y/N, oh my god, girl! You finally made it!” Bianca yelled excitedly as her and Jade ran to the door of the suite to greet you. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you,” Bianca gave you a strong hug and rocked the two of you back and forth, “how have you been?!”

“It’s been too damn long!” Jade exclaimed, “and can I just say… you look hot. Jon said you were having wardrobe issues and, honey, looking at you I just don’t think that’s true,” the three of you laughed.

“No, seriously, I was! I damn near canceled because I couldn’t find anything, but finding this top hidden in the back of the closet saved it. I don’t even remember where I got it honestly, I don’t normally buy stuff this oversized but, hey, I guess my forgetfulness finally came in clutch,” you chuckled. 

“And did, you look incredible, babe. Now c’mon, let’s go mingle with everybody!” Bianca and Jade locked your guys’s arms as the three of you hopped around from group to group in the suite, chatting with some new faces and some you hadn’t seen in a very long time. Your eyes tried searching for your boyfriend, but you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere so you assumed he had gone to the restroom or maybe was notified he had to do something for the show last minute and shrugged it off. After a while though, you had to pee so you excused yourself from the group and walked across the hall to the restrooms. You did your business and washed your hands, drying them and making your way back to the suite. You opened the bathroom door to be greeted by your boyfriend.

“Oh, hey, babe! I was just looking for you, where have you be-,” you were cut off by Jon stepping into the restroom with you, pinning you against the wall and locking the door behind him. You gasped as your back collided with the hard surface behind you as Jon stared down at you with an intensity you had never seen before. His eyes trailed down your body to take in what you were wearing, coming back up and staring directly at the shirt you were wearing. 

“I see you found my shirt,” he growled, and your memory clicked in from a week prior. ***FLASHBACK***

“Babe! Have you seen my button up? The silk one my mom got me a while back?” Jonathan shouted from the bedroom as you were applying your lipstick, getting ready for date night. “Um, no I don’t think so… did you check the laundry?” 

“Yeah, it’s not in there, can’t find it. I’ll just wear something else, don’t worry about it!”

***END FLASHBACK***

“I- I thought it was mine, I found it in the back of my closet. I’m sorry…” you muttered, nervously, not wanting him to be mad at you for “stealing” his shirt. “Oh, baby, I’m not mad,” Jon paused, lowering his head closer to your trembling lips, “but if you’re really sorry…” he inches closer, his breath fanning over your cheeks as his lips brush yours, “then show me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in, closing the distance between you. He kissed you with a desire you had never seen from him before, hungrily brushing his tongue against yours as he asserted his dominance over you. His fingers worked on the buttons of your (his) shirt, but left the clothing sitting on your shoulders as the cool air conditioning hit your nipples, hardening them instantly. You shuddered at the feeling, as his hands hiked your shirt up and kneaded your ass as he planted kisses along the base of your neck. “You know… I love it… when you wear my shirts… so fuckin’ sexy.” You moaned as his lips drifted down your neck and to your chest, as his hands fondled your waist and inched closer to your growing wetness. The tips of his fingers teased the front of your panties, toying with the material as you bucked your hips desperately for any sort of friction. “Patience, baby, imma give it to you,” you weren’t listening, too consumed in your neediness for him, and continued to squirm underneath him. You’re snapped out of your trance by Jon pinning your arms above your head and growling in your ear. “What I say, huh? Keep still ‘fore I give you somethin’ to squirm about, and you ain’t gonna like it.” You whimper and nod in response, trying to hold it together as you fight every urge to act on your own desperation. Jon holds your wrists above your head with his left hand, using the right to slide your panties to the side and dive his fingers into your wetness. You trembled, sighing and throwing your head back to hit the wall as his digits caressed your dripping folds. He was torturing you, edging his fingers closer and closer to your entrance but never slipping inside, instead opting to watch your face twist and contort at the way a simple touch from him had you so riled up. He loved the way your breathing would stagger as he teased you and watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, giving into his touch. 

“Mmm, baby please,” you cried, the sounds of your whines echoing around you. “You sorry, hmm?” He teased, brushing his thumb across your clit, causing you to jolt in pleasure. “Y-yes, fuckk baby, I’m so- I’m sorry,” you hissed.

“You gonna have to be more convincing than that” You whined loudly at his response, turning into a loud and dragged out moan as he slipped a finger inside. Your pussy immediately tightened around it, squeezing it as he pumped in and out of you. Your eyes rolled into your skull as he carefully worked his magic on you. Your fingers gripped onto the blazer he was wearing, trying to cling onto anything as he drove you further into pure, unadulterated bliss. His finger picked up pace and glided deeper and deeper inside you, brushing against the soft padding of your g-spot as he curled it. You felt yourself stretch around him again with the addition of a second finger, your walls spasming around both digits as he mercilessly thrusted his fingers inside of you. 

“O-oh my god, Jon I-, I’m so c-close,” you moaned as his lips found their way back to your neck again. “Hold it. You’re not cumming ‘til I say you can, got me? Now tell me how sorry you are.”

“I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so so sorry. Now please, I’m gonna-”

“Uh uh, not sorry enough. Get on your knees and convince me.” He withdrew his fingers from you faster than you anticipated, nearly making your knees give out in the process, but you obeyed him like the good girl you were. You dropped to your knees in an instant, hands immediately grabbing for his belt and zipper, as you worked quickly to free him from the constraints of his pants. You could tell from the prominent bulge that lined his boxers he was painfully hard as you palmed him, Jon letting out a low groan and instinctively grinding himself into your hand. “Fuck baby, don’t tease. You know ion like that shit.” You pulled down his boxers to reveal his cock and salivated at the sight; the veins along his shaft prominent as his length twitched upon release from its imprisonment. You looked up at the man who stood before you, his eyes darkened and glazed over with lust as he watched you coat his dick in your saliva before taking his tip in your mouth. You sucked lightly and gave kitten licks to him, knowing how sensitive his head was and watching as he threw his head back in ecstasy and released your name from his lips in low moans. Your mouth worked its way down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, his hands grasping your hair as you took as much of him as you could.

“Mmm, fuck ma, lemme fuck that pretty lil mouth of yours. Always so good for me.” You gave a slight nod, relaxing your jaw and opening your mouth more as his hips made slow and steady movements. You gagged on him, but focused on the breathing from your nose as he drilled himself into your throat. Tears brimmed your eyes, threatening to spill onto your cheeks as he continued to thrust faster and faster, making you gag on him more and more. “You love it when I use your pretty little mouth like this, hmm? How sorry are you now?” You moaned around him as he showed no mercy on your throat and gripped your hair, and watching his face told you he was reaching the edge. Surprisingly, he released himself from your mouth with a pop and helped you up, still dizzy from the assault his cock was performing on your mouth. 

“I still don’t think you’re that sorry, you wanna prove it to me? Hop up on this counter and spread your legs for me, pretty girl, imma fuck you ‘til I believe it.” You hopped on the counter of the bathroom sink and opened yourself to him completely, letting him see your glistening folds aching and ready for him. He pumped himself a few times before lining himself up and slamming into you, giving you no room to adjust to him as he ruthlessly pounded into you and had you screaming his name. His hand quickly met your mouth, covering it to keep you quiet as he leaned in and started fucking deeper into you. You were seeing stars, moaning into his hand and raking your nails across his shoulders as he drove into you at an unforgiving pace. 

“Shit, Y/N, so fuckin’ tight f’me. Fit me like a fuckin’ glove. Can’t get enough of this pussy, baby,” he moaned, continuing his fast-paced thrusts. “You wanna tell me how sorry you are now, baby girl? You think you’re sorry enough for me to let you cum?” He removed the hand covering your mouth and brought it down to your clit, rubbing slow circles into the sensitive bud.

“H-holy s-shit, mmm, fuck baby I- I’m s-sorry! I’m sorry I-, oh my god, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby,” you cried, “p-please believe me, I’m so sorry. I’m gonna-” “You think you deserve it, hmm?” He wraps his hand around your throat, gently squeezing as you let out a strangled moan. “Go ahead baby, you think you deserve this nut?”

“Y-yes, ohh fuck, yes I deserve it. B-been so good f-f’you.” You choked out, consumed completely in Jon and the pleasure he was providing you.

“You’ve been such a good girl… you really are sorry, huh?” You nodded frantically, letting soft moans fall off your lips. “Let go, baby, cum all over this dick f’me. Lemme see you.”

The orgasm that erupts from the pit of your stomach is explosive enough to make supernovas look small in comparison. Your body and pussy convulse around him as you scream his name and release yourself on his cock. Your vision goes black as you’re overwhelmed with an intense feeling of pleasure as your juices coat his dick and lower abdomen, squirting all over him. He watches you as you let go, taking in every detail of your mouth agape and chanting his name, the furrow of your brows, your eyes squeezing shut, and most of all your walls constricting around his cock, coaxing him to his own release. He coats your insides with a loud groan, releasing himself completely into your aching pussy as he slowly pistons himself into you to ride out both of you two’s orgasms. Soft moans and pants escape the both of you, coming down from what felt like the most intense release the two of you have shared. You both sat for a moment, evening your breathing and taking the time to fully recover before he pulled out of you and moved your panties back to their rightful position, his cum leaking out of you and soaking them in the process. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and you smiled up at him, softly kissing his lips before jumping down and adjusting yourself in the mirror.

You both desperately tried to cover up the events of what just happened, feeling satisfied and unlocking the door to the restroom before attempting to sneak out, but Bianca being in front of the door stopped you both in your tracks.

“Oh, thank god, I’ve had to pee for the past 30 minutes,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows at the both of you, “didn’t know Y/N needed help using the bathroom, Jon.” The two of you blushed, knowing your attempt to hide your escapade had failed miserably. “Now get y’all horny asses inside, you’re lucky they didn’t start filming the live segment in the suite yet, or the TV audience would’ve heard quite the show… now, if you’ll excuse me,” she winked, hurrying past you both as you and your boyfriend exchanged a quick glance before sneaking your way back in the suite.

[jaythes1mp]

Hello how are you? I hope you are well!

Okay wait this idea is probably dumb and stupid so you can ignore it since it popped up into my head and I wanted to ask but what about a goldfish! reader who can turn into a human.

It’s like cat! Reader or puppy! reader but instead of them being either of those they can change into a goldfish.

How would the Batfamily treat them? Like a huge tank or something? Premium fish food? Treats?

How would the Batfamily treat their human form?

I started to laugh while writing this so haha

Have a wonderful day/ night/ evening!

I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH TAKE A BREAK AND MAKE SURE TO REST AND DRINK WATER AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!! 🩷❤️💙🩵💚💜💛

⭐️anon (I just dubbed myself that sorry 🤣)

You can totally be ⭐️ anon, I love your energy!

In the case of a goldfish reader, and any other freshwater creatures that they may turn into, the family would first have to develop a fiercely protective and possessive obsession over the human half before they would become overly invested in the aquatic aspects.

It's not until the family has become yandere that they would start showing a particularly possessive interest in your freshwater form.

With a goldfish in mind, Jason wouldn’t likely exhibit a strong interest in you due to the limitations of your aquatic form. But on those rare occasions when he’s at the manor, he’ll still opt to spend time with you, enjoying your company even if you can’t do the same things he typically enjoys.

However, if Jason were able to find a way to force you into remaining in your human form with him, then he’d probably become completely fixated on keeping you by his side at all times. You’re still his Darling, yknow? It’s a pity that the rest of the fam won’t let him keep you at his house. He’d even buy a large tank for when you shift, and everything!

Tim would be delighted the thought of stealing you from the manors comedically oversized enclosure, which they had built in just for you, to swap you out for a regular fish he had bought at the nearest pet store, just to see how long it took for the rest of the family to notice.

He'd keep you in a tank on his desk, right next to all his paperwork, so that he can watch over you as he works away, taking little breaks to observe and admire you as you swim about in your watery prison.

Tim would make sure to keep the tank well-decorated and comfortable, adding in your favorite plants, stones, and trinkets to keep you entertained. Similar to the main one in the center of the manor, just with far less space.

But regardless of how pretty your tank looks, it would still feel like a prison. You're always going to be painfully aware of your confinement. Especially when the one on Tim’s desk has a lid, forcing you to stay and swim endless circles, never stopping until he feels gracious enough to let you out.

Damian treats you with extreme care. Everything must be perfect. With a sterile, immaculate tank, an ample supply of food 24/7, your health in top condition, and absolutely no signs of boredom. Even the slightest hint of loneliness will have him instantly scooping you out of the water, either forcing you to change back to spend time together, or he'll invest in a portable tank to smuggle you into his school. You'll never be left to your own devices for long, as he's always making sure that you're given all the attention that you deserve.

Damian is fully aware of how susceptible fish can be to depression, and given the somewhat abrupt manner of your kidnapping, he won’t take any chances. So, to prevent any potential psychological distress, he's extremely careful to provide you with everything you could possibly need to be happy and healthy. With ample space to swim around, a proper diet, and plenty of stimuli to keep you entertained. When you’re with him, it's as if you're living a life of unparalleled luxury, in spite of your confinement.

Although, Damian has still accidentally snatched up the counterfeit you that Tim had placed in your tank, and it was ultimately Conner who had to break the news to him that it wasn't the real you half way through the school day.

Dick, being the affectionate sibling that he is, would probably still keep you company while in your goldfish form. He'd swim about in the water with you, and find ways to interact and entertain you, such as tossing in small toys for you to play with, or placing his hands in the water to let you nuzzle against them. He's just glad that you're in a more vulnerable form, as it reminds him of when Jason was a child and how he’d missed out on the time in your life where you'd of been more receptive to his affection.

He’d probably even have special underwater equipment installed in the tank, like a communication device so that he could “talk” to you, bubbles that he could blow at you, or maybe even an intercom for music, just so he could better connect with you in your aquatic form. Dick will stop at no end to ensure that you feel loved and included, even as a fish.

It’ll be almost the same as with your human form, but instead of using words or touch, Dick will find other creative ways to pamper and spoil you, like adding special treats or fish toys to the tank, or arranging the underwater environment into a little sanctuary just for you. He’ll do everything in his power to show how much he cares, just like the affectionate big brother that he’s forced you to see him as. Just how it’s supposed to be.

The last of the family is Bruce. While the others find ways to pamper and spoil you, Bruce's interactions with you as a fish are a little more distant. He'll dutifully check in on you at least twice a day, making sure that the tank is clean and that the water quality is up to standard. But after that, he'll spend less and less time around your enclosure.

He's more comfortable when you're in human form around him, as it allows him to better understand your wellbeing. He can gauge your emotions, check if you've been eating enough, and actually see you properly, instead of just catching glimpses of your little fish body hiding behind the expensive rocks.

You're now Bruce’s child, and yet, when you’re in your goldfish form, he can't help but feel a distance between you. Perhaps it's the inability to communicate, or the way your little fish body seems to hide behind everything, but it's harder for him to truly connect with you on a deeper level. Maybe it's the cold reality of knowing that he’s keeping you in confinement, or the loss of affection, but something about your life as a fish just doesn’t sit well with him.

Link to Masterlist

Extra

[leviraaaaaa]

"Coffee? This shit's expensive."

You reached for the packet that was sitting on top of the desk, surprised. Coffee was for rich nobles, not for soldiers with meager pay. Levi swatted at your hand.

"Don't touch my shit."

"What?" You took back your hand, pouting at him. "I was just saying."

Levi shot a glare at you, irritated. "Why don't you just shut up and go back to your work? My possessions are none of your business."

You groaned, eyes flicking to the empty papers in front of you that you were supposed to write reports on. "But I've been working for hours. My fingers hurts. Let me take a break."

"Stop being dramatic.

"I'm not being dramatic. You're being dramatic." You mumbled, again reaching for the package. He didn't try to stop you this time. He only glanced, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance, then going back to working. You were stubborn as fuck and he had learnt long ago telling you not to do something only inspired you to do the opposite, specially when you realized it pissed him off.

"Where the heck did you even get this?" You flip the packet, eyes widening at the price. It wasn't just expensive, it was super expensive. Levi sighed.

"Must you be so nosy all the damn time?"

"Yes." You nod, eager to know. You weren't going to let it go until you got answers. You were stubborn that way. And his unwillingness only made you all the more interested.

Or maybe you just loved pissing him off. It was amusing in a way.

Your crude captain barely ever showed emotions, so you'll take what you get. Even if the only emotions he has the capacity to display is annoyance and frustration.

Getting him riled up was perhaps, the highlight of your day. Only source of entertainment ment in the four walls of this boring facility.

What made it all better was, he'd grumble, he'd complain, he'd spew curses under his breath, but he'd still let you stick around. And he'd rather die than admit it, but it made you think that perhaps, he didn't find you as 'unpleasant' as he says he does after all.

"I didn't get it." He responded irritatedly, eyes on the papers.

"Huh?" You tilted your head, not satisfied. "What do you mean? What, this packet just grew legs and started walking and came all the way up over here? Plus, I didn't think you even like coffee. I only ever saw you drink tea–"

"You talk too much."

"Okay but," You ignored his little snide remark. "No, but this is premium quality and you haven't even opened it yet. Why'd you get it of you won't have it?"

"I didn't get it." He repeated. "And I don't like coffee."

"Thought so." You nodded. That's also another reason you were surprised to see the packet. He loathed coffee, you knew. Even though the cheap shit served in the cafeteria was truly repulsive, you would chug it down without hesitation. And the face Levi made every damn time was worth it all. That's how you learnt the bitter captain surprisingly hated the bitter drink.

"So if you're not gonna have it, can I have some? Because I'm falling asleep."

"No. I can't stand the smell of it."

"Of course you don't." You scoffed. "You drink your tea just fine though. In my opinion, that tastes more horrible."

"I didn't bring you here to comment about my drink preferences."

"Volunteering. Because you have shit preferences and someone needs to let you know–"

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No." You grinned. "Where'd you get it captain?"

"If I tell you, will you shut up?" He looked up, exasperated.

You pretended to consider. "Perhaps."

He glared at you.

"Okay I might." You nodded. "No promises, but I might. Go on, tell me."

He stared at you skeptically, weighing his options of either answering your questions so that you'd let it go or smack you in the face with the heavy file. He was seriously considering the latter at this point.

Then he sighed.

"I just know this is gonna make this worse." He muttered. "If you must know, it was a gift."

"A gift?!" Your jaw dropped.

"Captain! Who gifted you something so expensive? Don't tell me you have a secret lo-"

"Get your mind out of the gutter." He snapped, cutting you off before you could say it.

"Okay." You raised your hand in mock surrender. "Okay. No secret lovers got it. Who was it then?"

He pinched his nose bridge closing his eyes. Bracing himself for the shit you were going to give him after what he's going to say next.

"Some random Garrison Regiment Squad leader I think. Captain sova or shiva or something of that sort. Carried some heavy loads for her and then she got all soppy and grateful and wanted to express her thanks, despite my insistence that I despised coffee." He explained, ignoring the change on your expression with every word. Dear walls, he can practically hear the screws turning in your head.

"...no way." You gaped at him.

"How expensive is this shit anyway?" He reached for the packet, curiosity poking him at the genuine disbelief in your face.

"50$?" His eyes widened, brows raising. He had no idea gratitude for helping out was worth that much.

"You're just noticing it now?!" You were absolutely appalled.

"I told you I have no interest towards coffee." He said defensively.

"But– how could you not?"

"Because it's insignificant?"

"It's–" You weren't sure whether you should laugh or cry. "Have you heard of the term, 'curiosity'?"

"I simply don't care. I have way too much in my plate to sit around and observe the price of a coffee package. Have I mentioned that I loathe coffee?"

"Jeez, it was a gift. You could at least pretend to care."

He only raised an eyebrow.

"I mean..you might not have a lot of interest in coffee," You said. "But she sure sounds as if she had much interest in you."

"She? The captain?" Levi furrowed his brows, clueless.

"Yes?!" You were even more confused to see his confused expression. "Who else would I talk about?"

He shook his head. "You're misunderstanding. She was just grateful."

"Grateful because you helped her heave heavy things? So she pays you back with 50$?"

Levi pressed his lips together, considering your words. Now that he thinks about it... no it's just you making the situation more than it is.

" .... How am I to know what she was thinking?" He said finally.

You rolled your eyes. "Well.." You asked after a while. "Did she try to express her gratitude in..any other way?"

"You're not gonna drop this, are you?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Of course you won't, you nosy little shit." He sighed. "She sent me a letter last monday."

You almost fell out of your chair. "You're telling me this now?!" You demanded. "What did she say?" Half of your body was practically on the desk, you were so leaning forward so much in excitement

"You're hopeless." He shook his head at the gleam in your eyes. "Not everything is drama. She only thanked me and asked if she could treat me to dinner some night."

It was how he said that with a straight face that got you. The lack of interest, the blank expressions, it all added up.

You sat back down in silence as you realized that he wasn't really trying to deny anything because he was flustered.

He simply had no fucking idea.

"Captain. Just..how dense are you?" You asked softly, almost in awe. How a man like him could be so clueless you had no idea.

"Watch your mouth, brat."

"No offence meant." You said casually, setting his irritated words aside, too invested to give a fuck. "But did you say yes?"

"To what?"

"The dinner proposal? What else?"

"Of course not." He looked surprised you even considered the idea. "Do you have any idea how busy I am? And it's annoying. She's acting as if I saved her life and now she owes me a life debt."

You internally sent words of sympathy to the unfortunate woman. Girlie couldn't have picked a worse person to flirt with.

"Oh poor her."

"What poor her?"

"Captain. Do you seriously...not realize that she..asked you out..?"

He stared at you for a few seconds, ears growing red. "Bullshit." He muttered.

It took every bit of your effort to hold back the laugher bubbling in you. It was already difficult enough to keep a straight face. He looked so embarrassed it was hilarious.

You wondered how many girls had ever flirted with him like this and he had no fucking idea, probably shook it off thinking they were just being nice. How many hearts has he broken without even realizing it?

"Well, was she pretty at least?"

He shot an incredulous look. "I can't even remember her name, and you think I memorized her face?"

"Huh. Fair enough."

A giggle escaped you despite your hard efforts to hide your amusement. That seemed to have embarrassed him more.

"Don't laugh. There's nothing funny here."

"Oh if only you knew exactly how hilarious it is." You grinned. "I'm like two seconds away from losing it."

"I will hit you if you don't stop laughing."

You pursed your lips, the corner of your mouths still quirking up.

"Captain."

"No." He cut you off. He was tired. He was embarrassed. He was flustered. He had zero desire left to talk with you and he was fully aware nothing that ever comes out of your mouth is pleasant.

But of course you ignored him.

"Have you ever even been on a date?"

He groaned, cursing internally. This is the last thing he wanted to talk about today.

"You have no sense of privacy." He hissed.

"No. I'm serious. Because that seems highly unlikely." You continued, yet again paying no mind to his pissed remarks.

"I'm too busy."

"Nah." You shook your head. "You're too clueless. You wouldn't be able to tell if someone likes you even if they held up a sign with huge red block letters spelling out the words 'I love you!'"

"Stop."

Yeah, you weren't sure how much longer you could hold that laugh back.

"You've never been on a date in this... I don't know, how old even are you– like twenty something years of your life?"

"I'm thirty. And no."

"Holy fuck, you're old." You exclaimed, caught off guard by the information. You knew he was older than you, just didn't think he was in thirties already. He looks so...young.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"It's not that old. I'm hardly a couple years older than you."

"Still old." You shrugged. "But damn, you're life's as dry as sandpaper."

"You do realize my life revolves around fighting titans? So excuse me if I didn't give romance a chance because I was too busy trying not to die." He mumbled.

You spluttered a cough trying to hide the sound of the laughter choking you. He had looked away when he said the words, but the tips of his ears were so, so red.

Never in your life have you seen him this flustered.

"Can you shut up now and let me work?"

"Aren't you charming?" You raised an eyebrow.

Then you paused.

"Say, captain, let me help you." You suddenly said. You couldn't resist the urge to fuck with him a little more. You'd be damned if you didn't.

"With... what?"

You grinned. "Dating. I could be your official love life assistant."

The reaction was exactly as you thought it'd be. His face was absolutely flushed.

"Fuck off."

"Now, that's just mean." You pretended to be offended. "Tip 1: you don't speak to ladies like that."

He stood up without saying a word, walking around the table and stopping besides you. Then with two fingers, he flicked your forehead. Hard.

"Ouch." You cursed under your breath, rubbing your temple and turning to look at him as he walked towards the door. "What was that for?"

"Youre insufferable." He said as he twisted open the door.

"Why thank you." You mumbled as he slammed the door shut behind him. "You're extremely lovable as well, beloved captain."

Levi leaned against the door, the corners of his mouth twitching up the slightest as he heard your laugher through the door.

Oh, but here's the the thing Levi hadn't told you.

That maybe, maybe, the reason he never even considered the approaches of the admirers, or even sometimes realize their intention wasn't because he was clueless. Maybe it's because he barely ever processes the words or the actions, think about it for a second for the situations to make sense.

That maybe, he had no intention to let anyone new in his life because he already had you. What more could he possibly want?

How could he? Not when you existed in his life, with your stupid face and your stupid voice and your stupid, stupid, stupid laugh.

Maybe, just maybe.

He doesn't notice faces much because yours never leave his mind.

@sad-darksoul

[wistfulforstars]

Your Medicine, My Medicine

Summary: You know how to deal with Tech’s periods of hyperfixation. He’s yet to deal with yours.

Warnings: Here there be fluff! However, my blog is not for minors - Begone! Some vague allusions to sex, teasing, reader is tired, Tech is a bad influence, the squad is hopeless, reader is afab

Part 1? This one got away from me - it was only supposed to be a quick oneshot. I haven't decided if I'm going to do a spicy follow-up.

“Oh yes, go babysit this special squad of elite clones, it’s going to be so fun!” you muttered angrily to yourself, pouring over a sea of half baked statements, equipment requests, and unpaid expenses. 

A headache began to form behind your eyes as you continued to grumble, “The tall one won’t blow you up, the one with the toothpick definitely doesn’t have an attitude problem, and their sergeant absolutely knows how to fill out a mission report!”

You picked up one of said mission reports, a mostly blank page that just said NAL HUTTA. INFILTRATION. COMPLETE. scribbled across the top in Hunter’s untidy scrawl. You tossed it to the ground and thunked your head on the table, taking a moment to lay there. You needed a drink. You wondered, not for the first time that evening, where Crosshair could possibly be keeping his stash of premium Corellian whiskey.

It had been about a year since you’d joined Clone Force 99 as their Communications Officer, and every end-of-month report analysis had gone pretty much the same way. No matter how many times you’d asked your squad to be more organized, to add more detail, to consult you on expenditures, none of your instructions ever seemed to stick. Usually your superiors let it slide. This was CF99, the Bad Batch. Nobody really expected these troopers to be great at paperwork. 

But the squad had an inspection coming up. The first since you’d joined them. And they’d wracked up twice the expenses they were budgeted for, with all receipts buried in a massive pile or half singed from blaster fire. You were about to have some serious answering to do, and the only explanation you’d come up with so far was sorry sir, excuse my Shyriiwook, but how the fuck am I supposed to control these dipshits?

You had a feeling that wasn’t going to cut it.

Briefly, your mind wandered to Tech. If there was anyone on the ship who could help you sort through this mess, to see the patterns in the chaos, it was your resident genius. But he was unfortunately indisposed.

You would be lying if you didn’t say that Tech, even from the very beginning, had always been your favorite. You had clicked on an intellectual level immediately, way back on your first mission when you’d corrected him about a tradition practiced on that particular planet. Instead of being offended or taken aback by your knowledge, Tech had swiftly asked you for points of reference that he could pour into after the mission. He’d then thanked you for your input, and began deferring to you on matters within the realm of your purview. You didn’t know if you’d ever felt such a quick, simple appreciation for your talents before. It was…invigorating.

Tech listened, really, truly listened when you spoke, and always seemed incredibly flattered when you tried to return the favor. Conversation flowed naturally, often well into the night. He was polite and kind, and you’d almost go so far as to say chivalrous in his way, especially lately. Sure, all the boys usually treated you with an added layer of courtesy. You suspected it was because they didn’t quite know what to do with a woman on board. Wrecker seized heavy things from your grasp almost on instinct. Echo was so respectful it was almost disquieting. Hunter had procured extra blankets for your bunk and always made sure you had plenty to eat. And Crosshair…well, he had offered you a toothpick on occasion, but you weren’t sure if that was an attempt at bonding or if there was just something in your teeth.

Tech though…he’d started standing or sitting up perfectly straight when you entered rooms. He scolded the others for being too loud while you were trying to sleep. He was constantly finding something of yours to “fix” and then give back to you. And just a few days ago, he’d begun this little habit of offering you his hand when leaving or returning to the Marauder. As if you needed help going out the door. You’d practically squeaked in surprise when he looked up at you with earnest brown eyes, daring you to take his offered hand. Crosshair had laughed, but Tech hadn’t cared. He’d just continued to gaze at you patiently, handsome face mostly hidden by goggles and helmet. The air charged with electricity, and when you finally took hold of his hand, you could feel his warmth seeping through his glove. It felt like something between you shifted in that moment, like an invisible string had been spun and tied. You had to admit it was nice to feel cared for. It was sweet. He was sweet.

Too bad he wasn’t here.

The only problem with your… friendship with Tech is that it was sometimes unreliable. He would have these periods where he’d “go dark” as you put it. He’d get his head into a new project or concept and tune out the world for days at a time. Not sleeping, barely eating, and totally fixed on whatever new task had caught his attention. When you inquired about his well being, he would answer in vague, single syllable sentences, or worse, not at all. Being ignored didn’t feel great, but you always knew he’d come out of it tired yet pleased, and ready to show you what he’d been working on. 

However, it would be really nice if this weren’t one of those times. He’d gone under about two days ago, and hadn’t shown any signs of emerging since. You wished he was here to look through this pile with you, tell you how he’d tackle a conundrum like this, or hell, even just keep you company. His ability to focus and problem solve was one of your favorite things about him. It was no wonder he could get so much done by tuning out the world for a few days…

Suddenly, it hit you. Your head flew off the table, and you gazed down hopefully at the sea of papers, a wild look in your eye. Nevermind that you hadn’t slept yet. Nevermind that you were a little dehydrated. Nevermind that Echo still had you on concussion watch after your last mission.

That’s it! you thought. All I have to do is take a page out of Tech’s book, and this will be done in no time!

You lunged for your neglected datapad and got to work.

***********

Tech made his official appearance back into the world around 36 standard hours later, and he was very pleased with himself. He’d developed a prototype for new soundplugs for Hunter, and he couldn’t wait to force them upon his Sergeant. But first, he couldn’t deny his irrepressible urge to show you. You had always appreciated his experiments, and he always appreciated your insights.

Not to mention, he felt you were both… ah… growing closer. Tech had been interested in trying to initiate a more intimate bond with you for a few months now. Only after sufficient research into being a desirable partner and numerous mental exercises for practice did he feel comfortable moving on to the most logical next step: trying to see if you were interested in him in return. His test of trying to hold your hand to help you down from the Marauder had been a definite success. You’d met his attempts with brief shyness, amused puzzlement, and eventually (if he read your body language correctly), anticipation. That was most encouraging indeed. He focused hard for the next few days on getting through the development of his latest prototype, not because it wasn’t a fascinating project, but because he wanted to create more free time for himself. Free time he could use to observe, interact with, and, well, woo you.

His hesitance wasn’t only due to the fact that your affections were hard to read - though you did keep things with the squad painstakingly friendly and professional. Tech was fully aware that he wasn’t the most dynamic or exciting romantic choice amongst his brothers. Echo had a patience about him that he couldn’t hope to emulate, Wrecker was practically built out of fun and carried affection in every bulging muscle, and Hunter and Crosshair had a quality that the holonet had simply called ‘the bad boy thing.’ 

You were bright, achingly beautiful, and more endearing than you had any right to be. It was Tech’s opinion that one person should not be so utterly enthralling - it was simply unfair to the rest of the population. Particularly the occupants of this ship, who all adored you. You could rightly have any one of them you wanted. But yet, surrounded by such obvious choices to warm your bed and your heart, you chose to spend your time at his work table, chatting about nothing and everything. That alone gave him hope. Hope that perhaps, if he paid attention to his research and did not stick his proverbial foot in his proverbial mouth, you would grow to return even a fraction of the affection he felt for you. He could hardly wait so see how you’d been faring the last couple days.

Except every single one of his brothers were currently blocking his way.

“What possible reason would you four have for loitering outside the door?” Tech’s voice came out sharper than he meant it to. 

But none of them even looked back in his direction.

Echo turned to Hunter with a grin, “You lose, sarge. Tech came out of it first.”

Tech frowned, “While I appreciate being completely ignored when I ask a question-”

“The princess has picked up your little habit,” Crosshair tossed back at him through a toothpick. 

“My…habit?”

Wrecker finally spared him a glance, “Shortstuff hasn’t said a word since day before yesterday.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “She didn’t even want to raid the rations with me. I’m gettin’ worried.”

“Wait,” Tech said, alarmed. “You mean she hasn’t eaten?”

“Made her a sandwich yesterday,” Hunter replied, and Tech parsed through the gruff syllables to hear the concern in his voice. “She nibbled at it and kept right on with her paperwork.”

“D’you think she’s mad at us?” Wrecker fretted. “She yelled at us before about receipts.”

“And Hunter’s reports,” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter became defensive in turn, “I’ve told her before, command doesn’t care about reports, they care about results.”

“And that’s clearly made it through her thick skull, good job-”

“Boys, we really need to make sure she drinks something-”

“Should I pick her up, or-”

“How well did that idea work with Tech? He got so scared he tased you-”

“Wasn’t so bad, and I don’t think she has a taser-”

“Maybe if Crosshair hadn’t bought that new attachment-”

“Maybe if Hunter would learn to write the fucking alphabet and not scribble whatever he usually-”

Tech had heard enough. Clearly, something was very wrong with you, and he had missed it carrying on with his own experiments. He tried very hard not to let that thought consume him. You needed assistance, and his brothers were being anything but helpful. 

Using the controls he’d built into his vambrace, Tech commanded the door they were all lurking inside of to whoosh shut, nearly colliding with Hunter’s nose and snapping the end of Crosshair’s toothpick. All four of his brothers turned to glare at him. He stood tall, not bothering to hunch.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he commanded, and he barely recognized the assertive tone in his voice.

Hunter, though, looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye. Echo sobered up. Crosshair smirked, the expression slightly undercut by his frayed stub of a toothpick. Only Wrecker seemed vaguely surprised.

“She said she was gonna go do her reports,” he shrugged. “We got an inspection comin’ up or something. Next thing we know, she’s got her nose stuck in her datapad and she won’t snap out of it.”

“Won’t sleep,” Crosshair grunted. “Tried to give her tea to help. She poured it out.”

“She took my spare soundplugs,” Hunter added.

“And you can only get grunts or single word answers from her, if she answers at all. ” Echo nodded in Tech’s direction. “It’s exactly how you get when you’re trying to focus. Like she’s channeling your methods or something.”

Tech crossed his arm, “She must be very worried about how the inspection will reflect on her. Did anyone tell her that half the time the officer doesn’t even bother to show up? And when they do, we pass on successful mission count alone?”

His brothers glanced at each other, silent. He sighed, “Perhaps, since these are, as you say, ‘my methods’ I can get her to snap out of it.”

Hunter brightened almost immediately, and if Tech weren’t so worried about you - had you really not slept all this time? - he would be a little wary of the snide glance his sergeant sent the rest of the squad.

“You know, Tech, that’s a great idea,” Hunter clapped him on the back. “In fact, since this is a delicate matter that you know so much about, would you mind if we left it to you?”

“That’s right,” Echo added, now also sporting a winning smile. “You’re the best man for the job, Tech. We’ve tried everything, it hasn’t worked. And we were about to go out for supplies anyway.”

Crosshair even joined in, toothpick miraculously replaced, “The town’s some distance away, so we won’t be back till after nightfall. Might have to spend the night out there. You can help miss perfect sort herself out while we’re gone.”

Tech glared at his brothers. How subtle did they think they were being?

Kind Wrecker hesitated, “Will she be alright though? Tech?”

He adjusted his goggles, clicking his teeth together, “I will do everything I can for her Wrecker.”

Crosshair snorted behind him, and Tech whirled on his squad, already heading towards the door, “Laugh all you want, but you and your discourtesy caused this, all of you! That woman has been much more help to us than we’ve ever been to her, and if you come back without copious signed and annotated receipts for everything you buy, you will not be setting foot back on this ship! Do you copy, troopers?”

Crosshair laughed his way out the door, but Hunter nodded sincerely before departing. Echo sent a salute Tech’s way with his scomp, before dragging Wrecker, who looked like he might start crying, out of the ship.

The door shut, and Tech locked it from his vambrace for good measure. Silence.

Finally, he headed down through the doorway to get a glimpse at your exhausted frame, folded nearly in two over your makeshift workstation. You didn’t stir as he approached, but perhaps that was because of the soundplugs in your ears. 

Your eyes, frantically scanning a shoddy piece of paperwork, were red and sunken. You mumbled nonsense to yourself in a voice with a slight tremor, and Tech could have sworn you had lost weight since he saw you last.

His mind ran through different possible reasons you might have ended up like this, and then twice as many tactical and complicated scenarios in which he could try and get you to stop and get some rest. But he found he was becoming too concerned for any of those. The diminished light in your eyes, the lack of luster in your hair, it was all instilling in him a less-than-dignified response akin to panic. Tech was a survivor of countless dangerous encounters, but none of them set him on edge quite in this way. 

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he reached out carefully and laid a hand on your shoulder. No response. He frowned. 

“Meshla,” he spoke quietly yet firmly. “I am going to remove your soundplugs.”

He reached both hands out and plucked them from your ears, but aside from a waved hand and a mumbled, “I told you to go away, Hunter,” you didn’t react. Your eyes remained glued to the form.

Alright, he’d try not to be too offended by that. He, after all, was sometimes slightly confused when he came out of a hyperfixated state, and he was too knowledgeable of himself to not see how hypocritical he was being.

He leaned forward, and his mouth nearly touched the back of your ear, “It’s not Hunter,” he breathed. “It’s Tech.”

You jumped, startled, and whirled around to face him, “Tech! Oh…hi, Tech! W-when did you get, um, get…?”

“Just a little while ago,” he answered. “And imagine my surprise when I come out only to find you working yourself to death.”

At this, a little fire crept into your dull eyes, “Throwing stones in a glass ship, Tech?”

“Don’t start that,” he warned. “I am genetically engineered for more stamina, to require less nourishment, and with the capacity to-”

“Don’t start that,” you barked. “I can gauge for myself how much stamina I have and how much nourishment I require. Poor little nat-born me has months of paperwork to sort through-”

“Paperwork that does not technically need to get done,” he said, and he saw the way you furiously zeroed in on his raised pointer finger. “We will pass inspection regardless.”

But you weren’t giving up, “This is my job, Tech! It might not be a state-of-the-art invention or a new fucking discovery, but it’s mine, and I don’t appreciate you trivializing my role on this ship!”

With that, you turned back around sharply, and started tapping on your datapad so hard that Tech thought he might have to replace the screen. He stood there for a moment, assessing. Clearly, this required a little more than your usual style of interaction. You were tired, and more prone to anger than he’d ever seen you. He’d been attempting to appeal to your own sense of self preservation, but you might be needing a more emotional approach.

Fine, if you wanted to play hardball, he’d play. He smoothly invaded your space, your hunched shoulders to his front, and leaned over, placing his hands on the desk at either side of your body.

“Wrecker is in near tears with worry,” he began, low in his voice. “And I guarantee you Hunter’s having trouble getting to sleep with you up and moving all night.”

Your head jerked a little, but you didn’t answer. Tech covered the hand tapping at your datapad with his own, curling his fingers around yours. His other hand took the pad away, set it down as far as the desk would allow, and went up to stroke your hair. He could feel the tension in your shoulders loosen ever so slightly. 

He’d never touched you with such familiarity before, never felt such palpable intimacy. His heart sang as you allowed him to gently caress your hair with feather light touches. 

“I don’t think you’ve ever snapped at me like that before,” he said gently. “But then again, you’re usually well rested and well fed.”

“Not funny,” you huffed. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, reaching for your datapad.

Tech felt a surge of protective frustration in his chest. He’d never seen you this stubborn. You were taking your well-being far too lightly and he was officially tired of it, “It was not meant to be funny,” his voice was a little sharper, a little rougher. 

He seized the back of your chair, and pulled it out and around. Then he kneeled before your slumped form, and took both your hands in his own, “I can see now, that you do not understand how seeing you exhausted and neglected affects me. Allow me to correct that.”

“Tech-”

“I care for you,” he declared, words spilling from him recklessly. He had to get you to understand. “Acutely. Intensely. In a way that is often beyond my control. And I will do everything in my power, employ every skill at my disposal to avoid seeing you come to harm. Even if the one doing that harm is you.”

You blinked rapidly, surprise flooding your glazed eyes, “I-”

But he would not hear your excuses, your dismissals of his concern, “This is bad for your health, bad for my mental state, and ultimately, bad for the squad. I implore you to sleep, to-”

“Please listen-”

“No, mesh’la, there is no excuse-”

“I like you too!” you shouted, a shaking hand touching his lips to stop him from talking. 

Tech froze. Oh stars…he’d told you, hadn’t he? Kneeling on the dirty floor, both of you exhausted, in the middle of a disagreement. 

So much for his carefully curated plans to romance you.

You let out a slightly manic giggle, probably at the slack-jawed look of idiocy on his face. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, “Any ploy to win an argument, huh?”

Tech quickly laid his hand over yours, alarm rising in his chest “I assure you, cyar’ika, this was anything but a ploy. I did not intend-”

“I was teasing, Tech,” you laughed again. “Believe it or not, I’ve been thinking something was up for a couple weeks now.”

He cleared his throat, sheepish, “Ah, yes, well…I was trying to ascertain if you were remotely interested in pursuing an amendment to our current relationship.”

“You know, you could have just asked.”

He felt his cheeks heat up, “I was trying to present myself in the best possible light.”

“Oh, honey,” you smiled. “You do that every day. Though I won’t lie, helping me down from the ship was very cute.”

He sighed, relieved, “That is excellent news. The field of romantic attachments is completely foreign to me. I’ve been conducting research for weeks.”

“Oh? What kind of research?” your eyebrows rose.

“Standard romantic practices for humans,” he began listing off. “Romantic gestures in different cultures, sexual acts and techniques, common date ideas-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the grin on your face grew wide with mischief. “What acts and techniques?”

“Sexual,” he affirmed with a wave of his hand. “And a lot of my research into romantic-”

You laid your fingers against his lips again, “Oh no, mister, you don’t get to just brush over that one. You looked into the best techniques for getting me into bed? Before you even told me you were interested? Overplanning much?”

“Actually,” he mumbled beneath your hand. “It wasn’t about getting you into bed, rather more about what to do with you once you were there.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes, “No matter how smart they are, pretty boys are all the same. Tech, that’s something we figure out together. Something we talk about and learn about as we go.”

Tech felt something very warm and light settle into his chest, “I understand what you’re saying,” he took your hand away from his mouth by the wrist, before examining it closely, reverently. He placed a brief kiss to your knuckles, and nodded to himself when he heard your little gasp. “But a woman like you, spectacular and brilliant as you are...you deserve the best in every regard. I have no experience to draw upon, so I decided to supplement that with knowledge. Carefully stored and memorized, of course”

He gazed up at your face, some of his nervousness from the past few weeks bubbling to the surface again. There was always a possibility that you wouldn’t be interested in a partner with no experience in the bedroom. But your eyes were shining, and that gave him hope.

“Tech,” you shook your head. “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to be the one giving you a memorable, enjoyable first time?”

He inhaled sharply, his heart hammering in his ears, “I will admit, it did not.”

You hummed, leaned forward, and reached for his face, drawing him up to your own, “Is this alright?” Your breath fanned over his lips, his chin. 

Tech found himself nodding, a little too frantically, and the next moment your lips were on his, and oh, this was very different from reading about kissing. His heart rate spiked, his hands twitched of their own accord, yearning to grab hold of you, and he was suddenly all too aware of his own body. His goggles fogged up. His cock tightened in his bodysuit. 

Then you grasped the nape of his neck and moaned into his mouth, and that was all it took to break his hesitancy. He grasped at your hips, and, utilizing a strength he didn’t usually have need for, he stood up with you in his arms. You wrapped your gorgeous legs around his waist and ground against his zipper. He gasped, and you took advantage, tongue darting inside, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. 

Tech sampled your mouth in turn, rubbing your hips with his thumbs, before slowing and gently pulling away. He stared at you, breathing hard. Your pupils were dilated with want, your lips swollen, and your fingers played with the little hairs at the back of his neck. You were completely and utterly perfect…

And you hadn’t slept in two days. 

You leaned in to kiss him again, but Tech rested his forehead against yours, still catching his breath, “This is not going any farther tonight, darling.”

He wished he had his recorder on. The pout you gave him was positively adorable, “Why?”

“Because you are tired beyond your limits, and I would be horribly remiss to have you exhaust yourself further by trying to perform for me in any way.” Not usually one for making himself feel strong or manly, Tech found he did like the weight of you in his arms, of your hands clinging to him. Depending on him. 

“And,” he interrupted before you tried to argue. “Even though you thwarted my long and meticulous plan to confess my feelings, I still reserve the right to woo you.”

You snorted a little, “Woo me?”

“Yes, mesh’la. I would like to spend some time with you in a romantic capacity before we run away with our urges.” He began walking you both back towards the bunks. 

“B-but! The boys are gone!”

“Which means we will not have to put up with Wrecker’s snoring,” he said simply. He plopped you into his bunk, but hesitated before he took off his first piece of armor, “I can take you back to your bed, if you prefer.”

But you just grinned and shook your head, “Don’t you dare. If I don’t get to break my three year dry spell, I better get to cuddle.”

He raised a brow, logging that bit of information away, but began stripping his armor and tossing it on the floor. He crawled into bed and felt his face warm at how you immediately attached yourself to his side, “I would like to take you out tomorrow.”

You yawned, the stress of everything finally catching up, “Yeah? Where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere,” he stroked your arm. “On a walk, to a nearby town if there is one. Maybe just to see the sunset.”

You hummed contentedly, “That sounds nice,” and you leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Tech, well he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to it…he melted, “How does a woman like you have a three year dry spell?”

You chuckled, “Break it for me and I’ll tell you all about the short string of losers, cheaters, and one particularly scary bounty hunter that had me swearing off men.”

“Hmm… I find myself more and more grateful that I decided to research this topic.”

He frowned, still unenthused by the idea of laying back and letting you do all the work. He would much rather be the one performing, excelling at pleasing you. Plans began to form in his head, of romance, seduction. He didn’t read through hundreds of articles for nothing, and he was determined that you would be pleased. 

“Tech,” you insisted, but your eyes were closed and your words were slurred. “I’m serious, we’re gonna… make your first time about you, whenever it happens. We’ll do whatever you want to do.”

He decided to try something small before bed. Just a taste of what he had in store for you. One article he’d read mentioned the best ways of initiating interest, and one of them was… talking to one’s partner. In a very particular way,  “But… what if what I want mesh’la… is to have you under me, limp, pliable, hoarse from screaming my name?”

You shivered at the deep voice he’d employed, and Tech waited, amused, as you struggled find words. This was more fun than he'd expected. He leaned in again, lips grazing your ear, "No more skipping meals. No more going without sleep."

"Tech-"

"Promise me," oh he delighted in the wicked, taut energy between you. He wanted to stoke it higher, hotter. "Promise me, and maybe tomorrow we can discuss all the ways you want to make my first time memorable."

Your breath hitched, and you let out a sweet little squeak, but you kept ahold of yourself enough to give a bit back to him, "Only if you promise too. That you'll start sleeping properly. I'll sleep next to you every night if you just come to bed."

Tech sucked in air through his teeth, heart pounding against his rib cage, "I will...try, mesh'la."

He kissed your ear, satisfied when he felt you quake again, "Then get some rest, darling. We're both going to need it."

"Thank you. So will I."

[blackbacchus999]

Apollo's Delphic Dawn

Description: The Sacred Apollo Elixir is a divine tribute to the radiant god of the sun, music, and prophecy. This cocktail harmonizes the vibrant essence of citrus with the ethereal shimmer of gold, invoking Apollo's brilliance and purity. Each ingredient is carefully chosen to embody Apollo's attributes, creating a drink that is as sacred as it is refreshing.

Ingredients:

2 oz Premium Vodka: Representing Apollo's clarity and precision, vodka serves as the pure spirit that aligns with his pursuit of truth and enlightenment.

1 oz Fresh Blood Orange Juice: The blood orange symbolizes the life-giving energy of the sun, reminiscent of Apollo's chariot that brings warmth and vitality to the world.

0.5 oz Simple Syrup (optional, for added sweetness): The sweetness of simple syrup mirrors the soothing and healing nature of Apollo, the god of medicine and poetry.

Sparkling Water (to top up): Like the gentle flow of a sacred spring, sparkling water represents the clarity of mind and spirit that Apollo bestows upon those who seek his wisdom.

Ice cubes: The coolness of the ice reflects Apollo's ability to bring calm and order, cooling the excesses of emotion and tempering them with reason.

Dried Blood Orange Slice (for garnish): A symbol of the eternal cycle of life and death, the dried blood orange slice embodies Apollo's role as a protector of life and a guide through transitions.

Edible Gold Flakes (for garnish): Gold, associated with divinity and immortality, reflects Apollo's eternal nature and the golden light of the sun that he commands.

Instructions:

Prepare the Cocktail: Fill a shaker with ice cubes.Let the ice embody the calming influence of Apollo, ready to transform the ingredients into a harmonious whole.Add the vodka, fresh blood orange juice, and simple syrup (if using) to the shaker. As you combine these elements, envision the infusion of Apollo’s virtues: clarity, vitality, and healing. Shake well until the mixture is well chilled. With each shake, invoke Apollo's strength, allowing the drink to cool under his watchful gaze.

Serve: Strain the mixture into a tall glass filled with fresh ice. Pour the liquid with reverence, letting it symbolize the pouring out of Apollo’s blessings upon the earth.Top up with sparkling water to add a refreshing fizz. The sparkling water elevates the drink, much like Apollo’s music lifts the soul to higher planes of thought and emotion.

Garnish and Finish: Gently place a slice of dried blood orange on top of the drink. Allow this slice to rest as a token of Apollo’s guidance through life’s cycles. Sprinkle a generous amount of edible gold flakes over the top for a dazzling effect. Adorn the drink with gold, symbolizing Apollo's divine light and the splendor of his eternal presence.

Special Twist: The Sacred Apollo drink not only refreshes the body but also uplifts the spirit, connecting you to the divine energy of Apollo. With each sip, you partake in the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of poetry, and the clarity of prophecy. Perfect for rituals, celebrations, or moments of reflection, this drink serves as a bridge between the mortal and the divine, offering a taste of Apollo's celestial gifts.

[littlexlioness]

Lucanis’s Head Cannons:

- This man loves the opera ( Not so much musicals, but the proper opera. Will try to take you to a show entirely in Antivan – forgetting you don’t speak a word of in and has to translate the entire thing for you. It ends up being a very cute date, as a whisper tibits bout characters and the plot to you quietly throughout the show)

- This man thinks flavored coffee is the devils work ( don’t look at me, I LOVE my Carmel macchiato flavored coffee as much as the next person – but this man is a purist who would gag at the idea of his lovely beans being covered with a fake ass flavoring to make them palatable)

- Can sew quite well ( you can’t convince me this man hasn’t tended to enough of his own injuries that he’s become very well versed with a needles and thread. Maybe he’ll even make something for Rook. The stitched would be perfectly spaced and stick straight but the fitting of any garment would probably be a mess. He should probably just stick to skin)

- He wears cheaters to read (obviously his far sight has to be 20/20 but there’s something I just love about the idea of him curled up with a cup of coffee, a pair of readers, and trashy romance novel.)

- Boxed wine is an affront to all wine ( I have a feeling if Rook brought this home, mostly to get a rise out of him, he would refuse to try it. Poor little rich boy, only drinking from crystal glasses and premium vintages. While Rook drinks box wine out of a coffee cup and thinks it’s heavenly)

- His love of reading came from not being able to sleep ( He liked to read before the Ossuary, but once Spite came into the picture he started reading more as a means to keep his mind busy, and to have something to focus on late at night when everyone else is already asleep. It definitely does not help with all his pinning after Rook – but he does get a few good ideas.)

- The tort idea absolutely came from one of his romance novels ( He absolutely read about it in a hurt/comfort romance about a jaded baker who doesn’t believe in love and the sunshine regular who adores his cooking)

- Asking Emmerich for the tort recipe was one of his top ten most embarrassing moments, especially when Emmerich mentions just how much Rook loves hazelnut ( right behind crying during his first day of training as a crow, giving that knife to Viago but to be fore scorned and the time the first talon caught him and Illario playing make believe wyverns as children when they were supposed to be studying)

- He taught Spite how to speak Antivan while in the Ossuary ( he had nothing better to do, and it kept his mind busy and present during some of Zara more difficult experiences)

- Lucanis loves and hates Mage!Rook being able to hear Spite. It helps that he’s not the only one who can hear the demon, but it’s awkward when creature forgets about decorum and saying something a little too honest or blunt. Especially if they’re trying to be romantic

- As much as he wants cooking with you to be a romantic experience, he can’t stand having another person in the kitchen when he’s cooking. There’s too many moving parts, and Rook always seems to be right where to he needs to be when a time goes off, or something needs to be done.

- This man has a sweet tooth, he used to sneak into the kitchens to learn how to cook (eat churros) you can’t convince me that he doesn’t have a secret stash of chocolate that he’ll break into for Rook after a hard fight or just a bad day.

- Loves to dance. This is non-negotiable, there is no way this man can’t dance. There’s no way Caterina raises this man and didn’t teach him every appropriate step in both ballroom dancing and modern dancing like salsa and tango. I’d be after coffee, and wine – his favorite date to take you on is dancing. ( brownie points to using Spite’s wings to do an impressively ridiculous lift too)

[s4no]

+ feat: ken ryuuguji x fem!reader

+ cw: sex work (draken is an escort), virginity loss, oral (r), ptv, size difference

+ summary: after years of failed attempts at losing your virginity, you decide to take matters into your own hands and buy a night with the most expensive male escort tokyo has to offer. (5.4k words)

+ a/n: i decided to rewrite one of my old fics so if you recognize the title and/or plot, it's from my archived account; written in the adult timeline

Your nerves are in shambles as you approach the unfamiliar building. Your legs feel weak and your fingers clutch your wallet tightly, as if you suspect someone may try to mug you and steal it. For all that you know, it's possible. You’ve never been in this part of town before and you're grateful you haven't run into anybody you know. You’d definitely get questioned if someone saw you walking down the main street of Tokyo's Red Light District. Or more specifically, into a brothel.

It isn’t like you're out here on a whim. You’d thought about this for a long time, pondered over it many nights after hours of tossing and turning, and after five very long— and equally as frustrating years, you’d made your decision. You wanted to lose your virginity and you’d use all the resources at your disposal.

You didn’t have much luck out on the dating scene, which mainly consisted of Tinder and a couple of the local bars out in Roppongi. You’d tried it all: blind dates, speed dates, double dates. None of them ever resulted in a relationship— or even a one night stand— so you’d been forced back to square one each time. After five years of trying and failing, you’d given up on finding love for the time being.

But… not pleasure.

That’s how you find yourself walking into the luxurious lobby of the most popular brothel in the city. The smell of jasmine invades your nose and the sound of smooth jazz drifts into your ears, immediately creating a sensuous atmosphere that leaves you gawking. Red velvet couches line the walls, some accompanied by golden side tables where clients can sit their drinks while they wait to be called back.

At the front of the room sits a large mahogany desk with a woman seated behind it, tapping away at a computer. Swallowing, you timidly approach the front desk and lean in close, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hello, I’d like to… Um, book a room.”

The woman doesn’t even bother sparing you a glance, her fingers still flying across the keyboard. “Male or female bodied?”

“Male, please. I’d like… the male with the best rating, if possible.”

Your cheeks flush when the woman stops typing, her eyes glancing you over before responding. “I’m sure you would,” condescension colors her tone, “but I’m afraid there are premium rates for our top-tier employees.” Ones that are out of your price range, she suspects.

“I’m prepared to pay as much as it takes.” Unzipping your wallet, you spread it open to reveal a thick stack of crisp ten thousand yen banknotes. You’ve been saving up for this since Christmas, working a full-time job along with attending classes at the university nearby. It’d been stressful and you'd worked yourself ragged, pinching pennies for the last few months, but tonight is going to make it all worth it.

Her eyes flicker between you and your stuffed wallet for a moment before she crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “I see. Well, I’ll have to check if he’s available. How long did you want to book him for?”

“…Three hours.”

Her eyebrows raise at that but she otherwise remains professional, nodding and picking up the phone on her desk. She quickly dials a number, sighing as she waits for someone to answer. “Hello? Yes, I was wondering if you’d like to accept a three-hour appointment.” She pauses for a second. “Yes, she’s here in the lobby right now and prepared to pay the fees upfront.” Another pause. “Okay. Thank you, Draken. Bye.”

Putting the phone down, she turns back to you. “He should be down shortly to take you back. That’ll be ¥120,000.”

— ღ —

After handing over the wad of cash, you take a seat on one of the velvet couches and run a hand through your hair. The room feels significantly warmer than it had when you first walked in and you realize it's because your heart is racing. It's happening. This is actually happening.

You'd almost chickened out this afternoon— considered using the money to take a nice little trip to Okinawa. You could swim with the fish and read out on the beach, eat some good seafood, blow off some steam. You'd definitely enjoy yourself but what happened once you came back? You'd find yourself back at square one, a hundred thousand yen poorer and filled with regret and immense sexual frustration.

There had been a couple of times you'd come close to achieving your goal. You'd gone to a frat party a few weeks ago, drank and danced your heart out. Even wore a pair of jean shorts that barely managed to cover your ass. When you ended up getting hot and heavy with one of the brothers, he took you back to his room only for you to walk in on his roommate having a threesome with two very talented blondes.

In March, when you first created a Tinder profile, you'd matched with a cute grad student who wanted to take you out to dinner. He drove you to a hotpot restaurant and halfway through the date, you two retreated to the bathroom to have a quickie. Your panties were around your ankles when you realized you didn't want your first time to be in a restroom stall beside a grimy toilet. You didn't want it to be a five-minute escapade that would leave you disappointed and unfulfilled. It's obvious to say the drive home had been awkward.

You're so deep in thought that you don't notice when a man walks out from behind the beaded curtain and approaches the front desk. You don't notice him at all— not until he's standing in front of you with a small smile playing on his lips. Onyx eyes roll over you slowly, long hair of the same color tied back in a braid. There's a black dragon tattooed across the left side of his head, and you have the oddest urge to reach out and trace your fingers atop it.

“You must be my client for tonight.” His voice is deep and smooth like molasses and a trill runs down your spine as he wets his lips, “I’m Draken.”

“Hi… I’m (y/n).” You offer, extending your hand out to which he lifts a brow.

He repeats your name back to you, drawing it out like he savors the taste of it on his tongue, and then takes your hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he interlaces his fingers through yours and gives it a soft squeeze. “C’mon princess, ’m on the top floor.”

Nodding weakly, you’re practically in a daze as he leads you back through the curtain of sparkling beads and into an elevator that’s every bit as fancy as the room you were just in. He fishes out a silver key from his pocket before turning it into the lock beside the button labeled seven, and up you go.

The enclosed area only emphasizes how large he is compared to you, how much space he takes up. He’s well above six feet with broad shoulders and muscles that bulge inside the sleeves of his silk button-down. You can feel him watching you as you ascend but you don’t have the courage to meet his gaze. Tension bleeds into the air, and coupled with the stark silence, it’s nearly suffocating. You have to make a conscious effort to take deep breaths as you will your heart to calm down.

When the dinging of the elevator sounds like church bells, you aren’t surprised. You’re pretty sure heaven awaits you on the other side of these doors.

You find that heaven looks a lot like a bachelor’s pad. Filled with dark wood and sleek furniture, it’s a mini-paradise; complete with a fully stocked bar, a king-sized bed, and a balcony leading out to a hot tub. Music plays softly from the surround sound system and you breathe in the faint aroma of juniper and tobacco as you walk inside.

“I hope R&B is alright.” He squeezes your hand once more before letting go of it, kicking off his slippers and making his way over to the bar. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of water?”

His brow lifts again but he nods, “Sure.”

“Thank you.” You look around while he pours out your drinks, taking in the scenic view of the city below. “You have a very nice place.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” When you turn around, he’s standing behind you, holding out a glass of water with a shot of sake in his other hand. “Be so formal.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You quickly accept the drink, muttering out a quiet apology. You’d done so much in preparation for this moment, but not once had you ever thought about how awkward it would be in the beginning. You hadn’t thought to look into the… ‘etiquette’ of brothels. You settle on giving him an honest answer. “I’m not entirely sure how to act.”

There’s a knowing smile on his face as he reaches out and tilts your chin up. His thumb glides lightly across your cheek, the calloused fingertip burning where it touches your skin. “Just relax. I promise you, you’re in good hands. I’m gonna take good care of you tonight.”

You know the gesture is meant to help reassure you and lessen your nerves, but all it succeeds in doing is sending your pulse skyrocketing. Apprehension bubbles low in your stomach and your voice wobbles when you respond. “O-Okay..”

“Let me ask you a question.” His thumb moves from your cheek to your mouth, feather-light as it ghosts over the curve of your lips. “You haven’t done this before, have you, sweetheart?”

Your cheeks flare at his question, eyes widening in shock. Is it that obvious? “No, I haven’t.” You admit reluctantly, “I just— Well, I’m tired of waiting. I know the first time is supposed to be special, but… this is special in a way, right?” You watch as the comforting smile falls right off his face. His eyebrows furrow and you mimic the action, worrying what you’d said to elicit this type of reaction. “What? What’s wrong?”

He blinks at you as he processes the information and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head. “First time?” His expression turns serious, his hand dropping from your cheek. “I was talkin’ about coming to a brothel, not having sex.” He shakes his head, “Look, I’ll take you back downstairs. Sana will get you a full refund—”

“No!” You cringe when you blurt it out, interrupting him. “Please, you don’t understand. I want to do this. I’m sure of it.”

“It’s not a matter of if you’re sure or not.” His voice is stern now, taking on an edge that slices right through your pounding heart. “It’s a personal preference. I don’t sleep with virgins, not at work.”

“I— I can pay you more money, however much you want!” You know you sound desperate but that’s because you are. You’ve worked your ass off to get here, to have this experience, and now you’re grasping for straws as you feel it slipping through your fingers. “You don’t even have to accommodate me, just do your thing and—”

It’s his turn to interrupt you. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” You can hear the anger in his voice, it’s almost palpable. “You can’t just go around tellin’ people they can have their way with you. It’s your first time. You should be accommodated. Now, follow me. I’m walking you back down to the lobby.”

You don’t move when he walks back toward the elevator, keeping your feet planted on the hardwood floor. “If I should be catered to, then why don’t you do it yourself? Because if you take me back down to the lobby, I won’t be getting a refund. I’ll just ask for someone different.”

A muscle in his jaw feathers as it clenches, his eyes narrowing down at you as if that will help him discern whether you’re bluffing or not. But as you hold his gaze, unwavering and earnest, he realizes you’re telling the truth. Heaving a sigh, he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He should be calling security right now, have you escorted out of the building. He shouldn’t be entertaining the thought of conceding to your demands.

Yet, there’s something in your eyes as you stare up at him— a certain innocence that has him willing to break his rules. Just once. He’d indulge you this once, if only because he doesn’t trust anybody else here to treat you right. “…Fine, but we’re doing this my way.”

You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. “Thank you, Draken. It… that means a lot to me.”

“I know it does.” Normally, he isn’t so forgiving toward people who threaten him but he can recognize the desperation in your voice. And desperation can lead to dangerous things. Other men would take advantage of that, and for some reason, he hates the thought of some old sleazebag taking your first time. At least with him, he’d make sure you’re satisfied. “Here, let’s sit down.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. “Should we… take off our clothes?”

Your heart flutters when a chuckle rumbles up from his chest. You’re as awkward as you are stubborn and he finds it strangely endearing. “No, not yet. We’re gonna take it nice and slow, m’kay?” He scoots closer, turning to face you. “But I am going to kiss you.” He raises a hand to your cheek, his thumb resuming its stroking. “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so.”

He waits until you nod before beginning to lean in, slowly so you still have every chance to change your mind. But when his lips press against yours, claiming them with a tender kiss, you know there’s no going back.

His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours, and you kiss him back— albeit clumsily because of how nervous you are. He doesn’t seem to mind though, more than willing to take the lead and pick the pace. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to deepen the exchange, and you allow it, humming contently as the taste of spearmint and tobacco fills your mouth.

His hand moves to grip your jaw as the other trails up and down your side, and despite the shivers that ensue, it helps ground you in the moment, brings you back down to earth just in time for him to draw away. You’re left breathless, sucking in deep gulps of air to clear the dizziness that’s muddled your mind.

“You still want to do this?” Warm breath fans across your face, obsidian eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty. He doesn’t find any.

“Yes, please,” you whisper, “I meant it when I said I want to do this.”

That’s all the consent he needs before he captures your lips again, this time with an intensity that makes your head spin. His hands move to unbutton your blouse, slowly working their way down to the bottom and slipping it off your shoulders. He doesn’t break the kiss as he starts palming your breasts, massaging them over your bra, and you can’t help the whimper that rises up from your throat in response. His tongue continues to explore your mouth, tangling with yours until your core is throbbing with need.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me?” He murmurs against your lips, palms splayed across your chest. One of them snakes behind you and nimbly unclasps your bra, letting it fall forward just enough to give him a peek at what lies underneath. “Lay back.”

Your body responds naturally, following his order without hesitation. You pull away and lean back until you’re pressed against the mattress with him looming over you, his eyes drinking you in as he slips the garment off your shoulders. “Fuck…” He mutters, “Look at you.”

Your nipples pebble beneath his gaze, pretty and pert and begging to be played with. He licks his licks lustfully, rough hands coming down to cup and squeeze them. Your head turns to the side when he starts to pinch the peaks, rubbing them between his fingers and forcing another whimper to escape.

He maintains eye contact as he lowers down, plush lips wrapping around one only to flick his tongue over the bud. “Draken…”

“There you go,” he breathes out, pulling back to admire the view. “Just relax, baby.”

Unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs it off, discarding it with the rest of your clothes before turning his attention back to you. “Don’t be afraid to touch me.” He leans forward and grabs your hands, moving to press them against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate, the rhythmic thumping beneath your palm. It’s a sharp contrast to yours which beats wildly against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest.

With the sight before you, who can blame you?

His body is built and toned, corded muscles rippling across his torso and leading down to a delicious set of prominent v-lines. Your mouth waters as they flex and you drag your hands down to feel the hard ridges of his abdomen, a trail of dark hair descending down from his navel and disappearing into his jeans. You’re all but mesmerized.

“Like what you see?” He teases, his head dipping down to the curve of your neck. Straight white teeth graze across the tender flesh before suckling on your pulse point. All you can do is nod, your breathing shallow and uneven as his fingers continue tweaking your hardened nipples.

He knows the pace he’s setting is slow— deliberate— but he wants you more aroused than you’ve ever been, dripping wet for him when he finally takes you.

With soft pants falling from your lips, one of his hands slides down to your waist, his index finger dipping into the hem of your skirt. He could very well just pull it up, sneak his hand underneath it, but he resists the temptation, determined to make you squirm in anticipation.

And you do, every purposeful touch kindling the fire within you until it’s a blazing inferno. Your blood boils in your veins, your skin beautifully flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’re in danger of overheating.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?” He mutters, letting the waistband of your skirt snap back against your skin. Your hips eagerly buck at the small sting, making it easy for him to tug it off and toss it onto the floor, and then he spreads your thighs apart to reveal a large damp spot in the middle of your panties. “Shit, so fuckin’ wet…” He curses, his eyes getting impossibly darker.

You nearly clamp your legs together as his eyes rove over you but the adoration in his expression bolsters you, gives you the confidence you need so badly. You stay still and let him look, trying to memorize the image of him between your thighs as he does.

Time seems to slow down. Seconds tick by and with each one that passes, you grow more and more uncomfortable. Your pussy aches, the desire he’s so carefully cultivated inside you becoming almost unbearable. But he either doesn’t notice the need swimming in your eyes, or he doesn’t care. He remains hovering over you, gaze zeroed in on your clothed cunt.

“Touch me,” the plea escapes you before you can stop it, and the corners of his lips tilt up into a small smirk. “Please.”

He hums as if he has to think about it. You’re about to start begging when his fingers press against you, applying enough pressure to make you mewl. “Don’t get greedy, princess.” He chastises gruffly, “You’ll take what I give you, remember?”

You nod obediently so he rewards you, circling your panty-clad clit until your hips are shifting back and forth. Moans fall freely from your lips but it still isn’t enough. You need more.

“Please,” you whine, eyebrows cinching together as you gaze up at him. “Draken, please…”

He hums again and hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties before dragging them down to your ankles. “Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.” Completely bared to him, apprehension saturates the air, your stomach doing backflips as he leans down and blows out a puff of air against your folds. When you clench at the sensation, a growl sounds. “Such a pretty little pussy.”

The pink flesh glistens in the dim lighting of the room, every inch soaked with arousal that drips down the inside of your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you. If you weren’t a virgin, he doesn’t think he’d even need to prep you.

Calloused fingers rub between your puffy folds, collecting your slick until his fingers are covered, and then one of his digits prods at your entrance, easing inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as he curves it in a come hither motion, your hands flying out to grip his shoulders. “Fuck..!”

You should be embarrassed at the deep laughter that leaves him but you can only focus on the way he’s knuckle deep inside of you, adding a second finger and beginning to thrust them both in and out. “Your reactions are s’cute. What if I were to just…” He trails off as he lowers down until he’s face-to-face with your pussy, and your hands strike out to grab his cheeks so you can hold him back.

“W-Wait..” You stammer before swallowing thickly, “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, no… I just… No one’s ever…” Your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.

He cocks a brow up at you. “No one’s ever eaten you out?” But he already knows the answer. Your mortified expression is as good as any verbal indication. Shock flickers across his face, but he takes the new piece of information in stride, turning his head to the side and pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh. “Lemme taste you, baby. You don’t need to be shy.”

Your insecurities melt away under his encouragement but when you merely nod, he nips at your skin. “No, use your words.”

“O-Okay.” You breathe out shakily, “Go ahead.”

The words have barely left your mouth when you feel his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue expertly swirling around the sensitive bud and tearing a gasp from your throat. His fingers resume their curling motions, and suddenly a familiar sensation begins building in your stomach. It reminds you of all the times you’ve touched yourself, all of the times you’ve worked yourself into a frenzy chasing your orgasm. You’d rut against your pillow only for your legs to start trembling, too weak to climb the last few inches to the peak.

Admittedly, your legs do start to shake, your body tense and on the verge of locking up. It’s like you’ve conditioned it to expect the worst, that you’ll get close enough to taste the high and then be denied like all of the other times you’ve attempted to pleasure yourself.

“Draken,” you moan, the sound so depraved you don’t recognize your own voice, “Don’t stop— p-please, don’t stop..!”

A groan erupts from his chest as your walls tighten around his fingers and the vibrations of it cause another wave of heat to wash over you, threatening to pull you out to sea and drown you in its depths. You’re so close, closer than you’ve ever been before.

It’s when his mouth suctions around your clit that you’re flung off the precipice. Pleasure blooms out from between your thighs, shooting through your limbs and out to the tips of your fingers. Your eyes squeeze shut as it consumes you, bleeds into all your senses until you’re writhing around in the sheets, hands blindly grasping for something— anything— to ground you.

Even then, he doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking, keeps licking, long fingers thrusting inside of you to prolong the orgasm for as long as possible. “Good girl.” He praises, drawing away when you finally come to. You’re panting from the physical exertion, pupils blown with desire as you slowly lift your head to look down at him. His lips, cheeks, and chin are shiny with your slick, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you didn’t feel so lightheaded.

“Thank you… that was amazing..” And even that was a gross understatement.

Rising up from between your legs, there’s a smug expression on his face. “Save the thank-you’s for later, princess. We’re not done yet.” As if to emphasize his point, his hands drop down to start unbuckling his belt, your eyes following suit and widening into saucers when you see the bulge in the front of his pants.

“Oh my god.”

It’s… he’s huge.

You watch with bated breath as he unzips his pants and lets them drop around his ankles, your eyes boring holes into him when he pulls down his boxers and reveals both the prettiest and thickest cock you’ve ever seen. The shaft is long and curved, the tip flushed and leaking. A large vein runs down the entirety of the length and you swear if you look hard enough, you can see it pulsing.

He grips the base of it, stroking it a couple of times before prowling forward. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” A grin tugs at the corners of his lips. “Worried ‘s not gonna fit?”

“…Yes.” You squeak.

He chuckles at your candor, opening up a drawer on the bedside table and fishing out a small plastic square— a condom, you realize. It only takes him a moment to tear it open and slip it on, the action effortless from years of practice. “Don’t be scared. I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? I’m a man of my word if nothing else.”

Crawling onto the bed, he captures your lips in a kiss that can only be described as comforting. It’s slow and gentle, even when his tongue dips into your mouth, and his hands come up to cup your cheeks, holding you in such a way that you can’t help but feel cherished.

“I’m gonna start now,” he murmurs against your lips, “Remember, if you want me to stop, just say the word.” You nod in acknowledgment, and with that, he reaches down and lines himself up with your entrance, the tip of his cock prodding at your center. “Squeeze me as tightly as you need.”

Your hands shoot out to grip his shoulders right as he starts to push inside of you and your nails bite into his skin at the stretch, leaving crescent indents behind. A strangled noise bubbles up from your throat when pain takes hold of you, burning bright like the sun in the middle of summer.

“I know,” he rasps, his lips ghosting over the edge of your jaw, “I know it hurts. But it’ll feel better soon, I promise.” Tears prick at your eyes as he pushes deeper inside you, but soon his fingers are circling over your clit, blending the pleasure and pain until one is indiscernible from the other. “Just breathe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

His movements are so controlled, it’s impressive— even as the slew of foreign sensations threatens to overwhelm you, you’re able to recognize that much. His brows are furrowed in concentration, his breaths coming out in hot puffs that skate across your heated skin. And ever so slowly, he works you open, sinking into you inch by inch. By the time he’s bottomed out, a thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead, his voice strained when he says, “You did so well, baby, ‘m so fuckin’ proud of you.”

You only whimper in response, turning your head to the side so your cheek is pressed against the pillow. You feel so full, inhumanely full. So much so that you’re genuinely surprised you haven’t been split in half because, for all intents and purposes, that’s what it’d felt like. Your only saving grace is the way he hasn’t stopped rubbing your clit, hasn’t stopped praising you for taking him so well.

It’s a testament to his self-restraint the way he manages to remain still, buried deep inside you, while he patiently waits for your walls to adjust to his size. If he were a lesser man, he’d push aside your comfort, neglect your needs and pound into you to relieve his aching cock. But he waits, waits until your pained whimpers morph into soft moans, until you start to squirm beneath him as your body tries to create the friction it needs so badly.

“Move,” you beg, your hands sliding down from his shoulder to grab onto his hips, attempting to move them yourself. “Please… need you to move..”

A pair of large hands tug yours away from his waist before they pin them down on either side of your head. There’s no real force behind the maneuver but you don’t fight him off as he threads your fingers between his, just like he did earlier this evening. “Look at me, (y/n). I want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

Tentatively, you turn your head so you’re staring up at him. You’re not sure what he sees but approval shines in his eyes and a sincere smile graces his lips. “Good girl.”

With your eyes glued on his, he finally starts to move, drawing his hips back and pushing into you in small, shallow thrusts. Your lips part into a gasp, your breath hitching every time he’s fully hilted inside of you. Tears line your lashes but this time, they aren’t from pain. They’re from pure, unadulterated pleasure— the all-encompassing kind that leaves you in tatters on the floor.

“Feels s’good.. So fuckin’ tight.” He groans, his pace speeding up as more moans pour from your lips. The sound of skin slapping skin ensues and you cry out when he shifts his angle, the tip of his cock hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll.

Your pleasure heightens and you think that this must be euphoria as your tears overflow, spilling down your cheeks and dropping onto the pillow beneath your head. Yet, you don’t look away from him. You don’t dare shy away from his gaze, not even when the coil inside you begins winding tight, warning you of your impending orgasm.

He squeezes your hands as your body goes taut. You’re panting now— sucking in breath after breath as your bodies collide— but you can’t seem to get enough air. Up you climb, higher and higher until you begin to tremble beneath him, your hands holding onto his like they’re a lifeline.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks through gritted teeth, “Gonna cream on my cock?” He curses when you nod, dropping his forehead down so it rests against yours. “Well, go on then, princess. Make a fuckin’ mess.”

As if on command, the cord inside you abruptly snaps. A violent shudder wracks through your body, bliss clouding every single one of your five senses. It’s enough to wrench a deafening sob out of you, your back arching up off the bed so your chest is pressed firmly against his. He continues to drive into you as your walls pulsate around him and a growl reverberates up from his throat at the same time you feel his length twitch inside of you.

He stops after a few more thrusts, slowly pulling out of you and turning over to lie on his back. You whine quietly at the loss, but you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to complain.

“Shit…” He says, his head turning to look at you after a couple of minutes of silence, “How do you feel?”

Somehow, you summon up enough energy to smile through the exhaustion that’s seeped into your bones. “Definitely not like a virgin.”

He lets out a laugh at that, flashing you a brilliant white smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the sides. “Well, we’ve still got two hours left, sweetheart. Don’t go tappin’ out on me yet.”

[she-whatshername]

Tyrrish Men Headcanons I made you vote for

Prompt: travel edition

Garrick:

When we getting to the airport: 3 hours ahead, the man is the son of aide of a duke. He is prompt

And yes, he does have a folder of everyone’s passports and flight information

He 100% owns TSA precheck/global entry

Is he holding your bags: Yes. You won’t touch a thing on your journey.

Will drop you off at check in and then go park through car so you don’t have to walk

Where are you sitting? Okay, I know he’s wealthy but are the aides of dukes aristocrats themselves or just well off people? I’m guessing you’ll do economy premium, maybe first class.

Honestly this man is a social butterfly and will just chat with the gate attendants and you’ll be bumped to first class. And yeah, he’s probably sweet talking with all the flight attendants.

Snacks and drinks: will order for you and be polite about it like “you wanted a whisky, right baby?”

He’d probably be that guy to clap when the plane lands. Idk why I just feel it lolol

Bodhi:

When we getting to the airport: maybe 2 hours before you take off.

Let’s be real, Bodhi is easy going by nature and Xaden forced him to be prompt and on top of things due to the revolution

Bodhi probably snoozes his alarm at least 4 times and takes awhile to actually get out of bed. So showing up to the airport early, meh.

Also let’s be real, you’re flying first class so you literally breeze through security and get to hang out in a lounge before take off

This man takes care of you. Literally everything is booked and you just have to show up.

Is he holding your bags: of course. Not only that, he packed all your stuff in his carry on so you could have more room to pack

Will hold your hand the entire way to the gate, on the flight, he’s got you

Where are you sitting: first class bb. Like the fancy fancy first class. You board the plane first and the attendants are like “welcome Mr. Durran.” lol

Snacks and drinks: duh. Champagne. Fancy snacks. Also he packed your favorite snacks in his bag for you.

He’s also checking in on you often, “comfortable, love? Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when food gets here.”

An Angel this man is

Also if you’re napping he is 100% gushing to the flight crew about you.

Xaden:

Lolol

When we getting to the airport: whenever the fuck you want

You think this man is flying commercial.

Baby

You are in a car rolling up to the runway to a private jet. Crew waiting for your arrival

Is he holding your bag: nope. But neither are you. He’s got staff to take care of that.

You have the whole private jet to yourselves. You can sit wherever.

Snacks and drinks: your favorite drinks, snacks and foods are on board waiting for you. He’s got it all taken care of.

He will also ask the flight crew to take scenic routes to your destination, avoid paths where it could be bumpy, and basically treat you like the royalty you are

NSFW: Mile high club?? Skies the limit, BB.

His plane. His seats. His woman/man/partner

Also I feel like he’d be the guy to just get up and hop in the pilot seat like, “let me fly my girl to our destination”. And the flight crew is like, 👍🏽

If he had to fly commercial I think he’d be a wreck honestly lol. His trust issues would never

The Marked ones would draw straws/fight over who has to sit next to him lolol

Garrick is like “I usually handle him every day, it’s my vacation too. Bodhi, you get him on the way there and Im, you sit next to him when we go back.”

Liam:

I don’t think this man flies. He’s more of a roadtrip type.

Loves the joy of the journey with you, it’s part of the trip

And that suites you just fine

And he will absolutely drive the whole way unless you want to.

[shixcherie]

I Love You 3000 | Choi Jongho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 08 : Jealousy/ Cheating Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : A lap dance can do a lot of things. It can bring Jongho running to your door, drenched in rain just for a taste of you.

Word Count : 3.06k Genre : Smut, Angst, 18+, Non-idol Au. Pairing : Lawyer! Jongho x Strip Club worker! F.Reader

WARNINGS : pure smut (18+), lap dance, Hard Dom Jongho, reader is a switch, mentions of drugs, alcohol, serving clients, strong language, dirty talk, pet names (baby, honey, pretty, sweet girl), angsty, fluff at the end, foreplay, reader calls jongho master.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 08 dropping a little late ma chéries. Its Jongho’s turn to have a taste of you. Hope you end this piece of mine as well. Day 09 and Day 10 fics on their way, dropping tomorrow.

Who knew this Historical day could become even more iconic and memorable with Jongho showering u with all his love.

Today marked the 3000th day since you ran away from the orphanage, the place your so-called 'amazing' faceless parents abandoned you to, a living hell in all aspects . A place that was supposed to be your home, but felt anything but that. It was the opposite of everything you craved: no warmth, no love, no freedom, only pure dictatorship.

Your 18th birthday marked the first night you tasted freedom, running away from that hellish place. A historical moment for you. Running away wasn’t just the best option, it was the ONLY option, to not only achieve freedom but A life of your own.

Inferno Nights became your second home. The club was infamous for its illegal activities but had never been raided, offering top-class services, premium liquor, exotic drugs, with an irritatingly attractive boss, Choi Lucas, sitting at the top of the food chain.

Was it really better than the orphanage? No.

But does it pay the bills and guarantee you the freedom to be whoever and however you want? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Being Lucas’s favorite fuck toy, oops “His main” like her liked to address you, allowed you to climb the ranks quickly. Not his girlfriend, just a companion. An overwhelmingly satisfying one at that. Trading your body for freedom seemed like the only way to survive in this cruel world. So be it.

Serving him came with lucrative pay, an apartment to call your own, access to the best booze and drugs, and a roster of elite clients to serve.

One of them was a guy who was a criminal attorney by day, but a total stoner, drunkard, and limitless black card swiper by night,Choi Jongho.

Lucas’s darling younger brother, but with double the stubbornness, double the brains, and double the handsomeness,double the money with a sprinkle of love.

A love not for the world, but reserved for a few special, lucky people. For them, he bent the rules and toyed with authority like a tiger playing with its prey.

—

The night of the 3000th day marked the beginning of a rollercoaster ride you never wanted to experience, not even in your wildest dreams. But one your soul desperately needed.

Another historical moment in your life’s calendar.

You always took this day off to indulge in drinking the night away, celebrating the first time your life became your own. Your living room table was set with snacks and whiskey, Netflix playing on the TV, and you all cozy and cuddled up on the couch, when your phone rang.

You scrunched your nose at the name on the screen. Demi. Ugh... you hated that bitch.

Lucas’s second favorite, one of the elite servers like you. She had an extremely pretty face but a completely opposite personality - entitled, bitchy, and annoying. She hated your guts more than you hated hers, and was the sole reason you ended up in trouble most of the time.

“What?” you say, picking up the call, annoyance dripping from your voice,deliberately.

“No hi, no hello, kitten? Is this how you talk to your seniors?” she mocks. You hated being called kitten. It made you feel homeless, helpless, and extra fucking lonely. Like a stray cat wandering the streets, with no place to call home.

“Cut the crap, Demi. Get to the point” you snap, not wanting to endure her voice a second longer.

“A client is asking for you” she says.

Not today. Today you and your precious time belonged to no one.

“Nope. Not coming.” You say dismissively, ready to hang up, but then she drops the name.

“It’s for Jongho. I mean Master Jongho. His friends booked a lap dance for him.And they want only you,” she pauses, her tone shifting instantly. Being Lucas’s brother, no one says no to Jongho.

“So be at the club in 10 minutes. You know what to wear. I don’t need to remind you, do I?” she says and hangs up before you can respond.

Would Lucas be angry with you serving his brother? Maybe.

But a client is a client, and it’s just a lap dance,nothing more.

“No intimate relationships with any of my clients. You three belong to me, so don’t even think about putting those mouths anywhere else” Lucas lectures, addressing you, Demi, and Anya, his three mains.

“That would be cheating in my book, and trust me, you don’t want to find out the consequences of treason.” he adds, a villainous smirk playing on his lips as he delivers the threat.

In 10 minutes, you arrived at Inferno Nights, dressed in the sexiest, tiniest gold shimmery dress, looking like a goddess. A choker around your neck added to the seductive charm, paired with chunky boots to heighten the tension. Light makeup and a bold red lip sealed the deal. Gold was definitely your color. In the dim lighting, it made you look like an angel, a euphoric dream, a salvation from all the stresses of your clients.

Demi greeted you with her usual annoying face, a vicious look in her eyes. Something about it felt off, but you dismissed it, assuming she was just jealous that Jongho had asked for you.

You entered the private room where Jongho and his friends were seated. You recognized every single one of them—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, and Wooyoung. Not just because they were regulars at Inferno Nights, but also because each of them owned powerful businesses and had definite connections to the underworld, just like Jongho.

The air buzzed with tension as their gazes locked onto you, the dim light highlighting your shimmering gold dress.

"Look who decided to grace us. Jongho’s favorite." Hongjoong whispered to Seonghwa, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Hmm? Why am I his favorite? Does he even know I exist?

Jongho’s smile widened as you approached, his eyes dark and intense, drawing you in like a magnet.

“Ready for your dance, Master Jongho?” you teased, swaying your hips. It took everything in you to resist the temptation to pounce on him. The way he looked absolutely perfect in that blazer made you feel weak, like it was tailored just to intensify his sex appeal.

Why the fuck does he have to look so mouthwatering? And he's off-limits? I hate you, Lucas!

“Show me what you’ve got.” he replied, tilting his head slightly with a smirk, trying his hardest to maintain his smooth composure, though you could feel it slipping as you traced his broad shoulders.

You slid onto his lap, the heat between you undeniable as whispers echoed around the room.

“Damn, she’s stunning.” Yunho remarked, leaning closer to San.

“Hope he can handle her.” Mingi added, chuckling softly.

Handle me?! Man, I hope I make it out of here alive.

The world, the people, their whispers—everything faded into oblivion as you became his sole focus, and he became yours.

You straddled him, hips rolling to the sensual beat of the slow music, your body pressing lightly against his chest. His breath hitched as you leaned in, the scent of whiskey on his breath mingling with your perfume, intoxicating both of you.

“You seem a little tense, Master Jongho,” you whispered into his ear, your lips brushing his skin slightly. His jaw clenched, and you could feel his restraint slipping.

His hands hovered over your hips, wanting to touch but holding back. You could see the internal battle in his eyes: desire versus control.

The friction between your thighs and his lap sent jolts of heat through both of you. You could feel him tense beneath you, trying to maintain his composure, but his ragged breaths told you he was already losing that fight.

You leaned back slightly, grinding down harder, your lips parted as the intensity built between you.

“Touch me, Jongho.” you whispered, daring him. Your words caused him to snap. His hands finally gave in, gripping your waist with a roughness that made your breath catch, finally surrendering to the desires he had harbored since the first day he laid eyes on you.

Desire - 1, Control - 0.

Jongho’s craving for you went way back. The first time he saw you at Inferno Nights, you were just a new worker, but seeing you all lovey-dovey with Lucas made him step back, thinking you might like his brother. Only later did he realize that Lucas was a selfish asshole, keeping three girls all to himself. That only fueled Jongho’s desire for you, after all, forbidden things always taste sweeter.

For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. Every grind, every movement sent electric shivers through your body, and you could feel his rock-hard response beneath you, your own arousal pooling in your core.

The music played on as you rolled your hips one last time. Jongho’s grip tightened, and his lips brushed against the skin of your neck. A low, hungry growl escaped him.

“God, you’re dangerous.Want you more.” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. His lips found the delicate spot behind your ear, kissing it before biting down hard, pulling a whimper out of you.

The teasing was over. Now, it was pure, raw intensity.

Suddenly, you jumped off him, gulping hard, breaths shallow as your cheeks flushed a deep red. Every pair of eyes in the room was on you, their gazes piercing right through your soul.

“Time’s up. I—I should go now. Thank you, Master Jo-Jongho, for calling on m-me.” you stammered,taking a deep breath, you swiftly walked out of the room.

As you hurried out, Demi caught you by the arm. “Done for the night, kitten?” she asked, a little too amused for someone who should’ve been jealous. But you couldn’t focus on her right now. Your mind was foggy, all you wanted was to go home, strip off the dress that smelled of him, and sleep.

—

Why can’t you sleep? Why did he kiss you? No, bite... it was more of a bite. But why? And why did it feel so good, so heavenly?

Raindrops hit your windowsill as the storm outside raged. You stared at the ceiling, rolling from one side of the bed to the other for what felt like the hundredth time, trying desperately to sleep.

Will Lucas punish you for that? Why does Jongho have to be Lucas’s brother? Ugh… what a fucking mess.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You checked the time, it was 2 AM.

Who could it be? Is it Lucas? Did he find out already? Who told him? Demi for sure. Ugh… Demi, you bitch.

Slowly, you made your way to the door and opened it just enough to peek through. There stood Jongho, drenched from head to toe, a smirk playing on his lips. He looked irresistibly sexy in his wet state, which in turn made you wet down there as your arousal pooled at your core, reminising the moments you both shared a few hours ago. Three words: I. Want. You.

That was it. All your promises to Lucas and your sanity went down the drain as you dragged Jongho inside, latching onto his lips hungrily, which he returned with equal intensity and passion.

Pinning you against the door, his hand cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss as your hands fumbled with his blazer, desperate to free him from his wet clothes. As much as you loved him in that sexy black blazer, right now, all you wanted was him—deep inside you, fucking the living hell out of you.

Breaking the steamy kiss for just a second, you tugged off your tank top before your mouths collided again. His hands now cupped your hips, pulling you tighter against him. His hand signaled for you to jump, which you obeyed, your core aligning perfectly with his clothed, rock-hard dick, the bulge fighting hard to be freed.

His tongue explored the depths of your mouth, sucking, nibbling, biting, as your breathy moans filled the room, accompanied by the sound of the rain outside. His length rubbed against your clothed core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, making your toes curl in response to the overwhelming sensations.

“Jongho… ahh… I need you.” you cried out, desperate for him to fill you up.

“Where do you want me?” he teased, his lips trailing open-mouthed kisses along your neck, stopping just behind your ear. “Be clear and precise.” With that, he bit the sensitive skin behind your ear, making you gasp.

“Inside… I need you inside me. Fuck me, and fuck me hard, please.” you gasped, grinding harder against him, desperately trying to ease the ache.

“Good girl.” he murmured, carrying you to your room and gently laying you on the bed. His eyes trailed over your body as he removed your pants, landing on your wet core, dripping and aching, begging to be fucked. His thick fingers slid against your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you as your hands gripped the soft sheets.

Can someone’s touch really do this? You’d never felt like this with anyone else, not even with Lucas.

Collecting your slick on his fingers, he brought them to his mouth, savoring it with a satisfied “Mmm.”

“Turn around for me, pretty girl.” he commanded softly but firmly. You obeyed, lying on your belly, ass up, giving him a full view of your juicy cheeks. He smacked your ass, eliciting a sharp yelp from you, and his hands found yours. “Up.” he instructed.

Spreading your legs for him, your back pressed against his chest, your hands pinned behind you by his large ones as his hard length lined up perfectly against your wet core. He gave you a few teasing rubs before slowly sliding in, stretching you deliciously as you adjusted to his girthy length.

Your head rested back on his shoulder as his pace quickened, his lips latching onto your neck again, kissing and biting, leaving purple bruises wherever they made contact with your delicate skin.

The sensation of his hard length filling you over and over again sent waves of pleasure through your body. Each thrust brought you closer to that painful but sweet release, one that you both have been craving for a while as his groans mixed with your soft whimpers. His fingers found your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with his movements, pushing you further to the edge.

Your body trembled, dancing on the brink of euphoria. “Jongho… I’m so close.” you gasped, breathless, your body clenching around him.

“Fuck, baby.” he breathed out, his voice strained with pleasure.

But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, a sharp, familiar ringtone pierced the air, causing both of you to freeze.

Lucas.

His name flashed on the screen of your phone, lying near your feet. The blood drained from your face, terror flooding through you as the realization of what situation you are in dawned upon you. You were too scared to pick it up.

Jongho's chest rose and fell heavily against your back, his hand still on your clit, rubbing softly, teasingly.

"Pick it up, baby. What are you waiting for?" his voice taunted you, breath hot against your ear.He knew exactly what would happen if Lucas found out what the two of you were doing, it would mean death.

Trembling, you picked up the phone. "Hello, Lucas.” you answered, only to be pulled back into the delicious sensation as Jongho’s movements resumed, his dick working its magic as he continued thrusting into you, slow and torturous.

"Y/n! Where the hell are you?" Lucas barked from the other side. His tone was sharp and angry? But why? And how ?

Jongho’s pace quickened, matching the rhythm he had set earlier, each deep thrust making your toes curl, a moan dangerously close to slipping past your lips. "At home. Why? Where else would I be at this hour, Lucas?" You fought your hardest not to moan.

"Are you alone? Why do you sound so… awake?" Lucas questioned, suspicion lacing his words.

Jongho chose that very moment to thrust into you harder, making it almost impossible to keep your composure.

Because your brother is fucking the life out of me? So just hang the fuck up already.

"Because it's raining here." you managed to say. "There might be a storm. You know I’m afraid of lightning and thunder, so I couldn’t sleep." Almost on cue, thunder rumbled in the background, validating your excuse. Jongho’s deep thrust synced perfectly with the sound, sending shockwaves through your body.

"Oh yeah, I remember, sweetheart. What was Demi blabbering about—never mind. Sleep tight. I’ll see you when I’m back." And with that, he hung up.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Demi, you fucking bitch.

As soon as Lucas hung up, Jongho wasted no time. His thrusts resumed with intensity, each one driving you closer to the edge.

"Jongho... I can’t hold…am close, baby." you whimpered, your body trembling, aching for a release after that intesne call.

His deep voice urged you."Cum for me honey" as fingers find your clit again, rubbing in sync with his movements. “You’re soing soo good, sweet girl.”

Your body couldn't hold back any longer. A wave of euphoria crashed over you, and you cried out his name, clenching tightly around him. Jongho groaned, thrusting deeper as he chased his own high. His arms wrapped tightly around you, and with a final groan, he pulled out, spilling all over your back. Hot!

Why does he have to look so hot doing that?

The two of you collapsed together, breathless, as the rain poured outside.

Minutes passed as you both recovered. Pulling you closer, he cupped your cheeks, staring into your eyes as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. “I-I love—” he hesitated.

“I love you,” you smiled, finishing his sentence and stealing a small peck on his lips.

Why did you confess? Who confesses after one night together?

But somehow, it felt safe. He felt safe. His entire presence had that protective blanket you had craved for a while now.

Maybe he is the right one?

“I love you 3000,” he replied, smiling and blushing hard. Cringing at what he said, but you could feel the sincerity in his voice, his words somehow perfectly aligning with your 3000th day.

Another historical moment! also more freedom, maybe.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[octuscle]

Good resolutions for the new year

Dillon slurred his words more than he spoke. But in the general hubbub at midnight, nobody noticed anyway. Especially as everyone in the shabby corner pub in London's Easend was drunk anyway. "In the new year, I'll stop drinking, eat healthily, do lots of sport and always be helpful to people around me." He had to laugh to himself as the bells rang in the churches around him and the first fireworks shot up into the sky. His huge belly jiggled like Jell-O while he pissed himself laughing in his dirty jogging bottoms. Dillon took another sip of the cheap booze he'd been drinking all evening. Then he fell backwards onto the floor and fell asleep amidst the partying people.

It was 07:00 on New Year's morning when Dillon woke up. The sun was just rising over the Atlantic. The last guests at the party had probably just left. Some of them were snoring on one of the sofas or sun loungers on the large roof terrace overlooking the Atlantic. Poor bastards, Dillon thought to himself as he walked around the apartment with a bin liner, collecting empty bottles. Before he took the vacuum cleaner and tidied up, he should do his morning run on the beach, topped off with a few pull-ups in the morning sun.

His gaze fell on a large mirror in the luxurious penthouse. Hell yes, he was a premium houseboy. But his daddy knew that. And his daddy rewarded that very generously.

Picture of the completely improved Dillon found @antoinepaul

[karliahs]

sometimes it just strikes me all new again that there is a little creature who lives in my house and i get to watch him chase the sun around my room and wash his little paws and slumber very gently

almost four years ago i filled out a form on the rspca's website and said i did want a lap cat and i didn't want a cat who goes outside, but i didn't mind how old or what colour or gender, and they sent me a picture and told me he was shy but warmed up fast, and i paid them £100 and he hid under a chest of drawers for three hours and then came out and started purring like a truck

he was almost entirely silent the first month or so he lived here and now he meows louder than any cat i've ever met. he will snuggle up to me on beds and sofas, but he prefers for me to be sitting on the floor - if i sit down cross-legged on the ground that is a premium lap to him. when i garden he looks out at me like he thinks i should not really be allowed to be out where the birds he watches go. he likes four people on earth and i am one of them

he wants my food always, but we have arrived at a comprimise where he sits and purrs and watches patiently as i eat breakfast and then afterwards is allowed to inspect the plate. he likes his water bowl filled all the way to the top, and he likes to drink by dunking his paw into the bowl in a scooping motion and licking the water off. he gets chin acne and so every day before he eats i get a cotton pad and diluted iodine solution and scrub his little chin, and he looks up at me like this is a strange eccentricity of mine he has benevolently decided to tolerate

by all accounts he did not have the best life for the five years before he came to live with me. i hope he is having a good life now but i can't ask him. he is small and soft and orange, his ears twitch when i say his name, and sometimes he will let me press my ear to his back while i scratch his chin and listen to the rumble

[aishangotome]

Ellis Twilight: Chapter 10 Premium Story

Chapter 10

After Ellis used an ice pack to cool down my injured foot, he carried me, unable to walk, back to my room.

Kate: Thank you, Ellis.

Ellis: It's nothing... I'm sorry, Kate.

Ellis: I'm your bodyguard, but I couldn't protect you properly.

Seeing the sadness in his twilight-colored eyes, I shook my head.

Kate: No! At that time, Ellis, your top priority was to restrain the owner.

Kate: It was just me who moved on my own and messed up!

Kate: I wish I could have helped Jake as smartly as you did... Oh!

Kate: By the way, what happened to Jake after that?

Ellis: Actually... after that, someone must have reported it, and the police got involved.

Kate: What!?

Ellis: So, we left both the gang and Jake as they were.

Ellis: I think this incident will be treated as a common conflict between gangs...

Ellis: And Jake will probably be released safely once the police questioning reveals that he was a victim deceived by the gang.

Kate: I see... That's good.

I thought about Jake, who had been unwittingly involved in the kidnapping. I felt sorry for him being taken by the police, but I was relieved that he was safe for now.

(But, still... my heart is uneasy.)

Witnessing the Crown's judgment.

The whereabouts of the kidnapped people... There were too many things I couldn't process in my heart.

(...No, no, if I make a gloomy face, I'll worry Ellis even more.)

I recalled the look in his eyes when I was lying on the floor and his profile that I saw on the bed in the basement.

(I don't want to see that face again.)

(Tonight, let's forget everything for now. Let's do that.)

Like closing the door to a messy room, I decided to forget everything that was jumbled up in my chest for now.

Ellis: ............

-

As I gently lay down on the bed, Ellis soothingly stroked my hair.

Ellis: I've told the maids to help you with changing and bathing.

Kate: Thank you, Ellis, for everything.

Ellis: I'll bring you your meals every time.

Kate: What!? That's too much trouble...

Ellis: I want to do it.

His straightforward voice and gaze made my heart leap.

The jumble in my chest threatened to spill out, and I struggled to resist jumping at his words.

(...This "want to" is for me, right?)

So that I wouldn't hesitate, thinking I was being too spoiled.

(Ellis is really kind.)

Wanting to reassure him, I shook my head with a smile.

Kate: Roger lent me a cane, so I think I can go eat by myself.

Kate: I think I'll be better tomorrow, so...

Ellis: ...I don't believe your "okay," Kate.

Kate: Huh...?

Ellis stared at me, wide-eyed, without blinking.

Ellis: Because it's an "okay" for me... I don't believe it.

Kate: Wh...

Ellis: Rest well, Kate.

Kate: ...Th...

Kate: That's not fair, Ellis.

(When you say it like that, I can't refuse...)

I collapsed onto the bed left alone, unable to do anything but mutter those words.

(...Wait.)

(What was I doing again?)

As I peered into the darkness, the outline of someone faintly emerged...

Jude: Restrain the glasses guy. I'll handle the rest.

(Oh, right... I went to catch the kidnappers, and then...)

Ellis: Kate... Close your eyes.

(Ellis...?)

Gangster: Damn it! You brought a troublesome guest!

(That person is aiming for Ellis!? I have to help!)

(W-Wait... Huh...!? )

(Why can't I move my legs!?)

Kate: Ellis!!

Kate: ...Haa... Haa...

(A d-dream...?)

The surroundings are bathed in a blue hue.

It must still be the middle of the night.

(It was a dream... Thank goodness...)

My heart pounded unpleasantly, and sweat trickled down my forehead.

Kate: Ah, ahaha... Saying I'm okay... It's pathetic to have such a nightmare.

(Just like Ellis said...)

(I'm not okay at all.)

Kate: I'll drink some water and calm down...

As I tried to get out of bed...

Kate: Ouch!

A sharp pain shot through me.

I fell to the floor with a thud and remembered that my right foot was swollen.

Kate: Oh, I forgot...

My muttered voice trembled, and the anxiety I had been suppressing swelled up.

(It's okay. It will surely be better tomorrow.)

I wanted to believe that, like always.

(But what if this happens again?)

Next time, I might see Ellis or someone from Crown getting hurt.

They might get an irreversible injury next time.

(...Let's stop thinking about it now.)

(The bad dream is making me weak.)

(It's because of the injury, the middle of the night...)

-And then, there was a knock.

Ellis: Kate, are you awake?

Kate: E-Ellis...?

Ellis: You fell asleep without eating dinner... I thought maybe you'd like a late-night snack. Can I come in?

(...No.)

(If I see Ellis now, I'll definitely cling to him.)

Kate: I'm... not hungry, so I'm okay.

(Huh?)

Even though I refused, the door opened, and there stood Ellis, looking worried.

Ellis: I told you, I don't believe it.

A silver tray, a soft milk pan, warm hot milk.

That kindness slips into the depths of my chest and entangles my heart, many times more than when I was told "I don't believe it" a while ago.

Ellis: ...Can I come in?

Kate: Ah...

Ellis put down the tray and crouched down next to me.

Ellis: Did you have a nightmare?

Kate: N-no. I just fell out of bed while I was half asleep!

Ellis: ... Don't force yourself to smile.

(Ellis...? )

For some reason, Ellis looked terribly uneasy - more so than I'd ever seen him before.

Ellis: What do you want?

Ellis: Tell me anything. I'll do anything...

His amber eyes were tense and wavering.

It was as if something terrible would happen to Ellis if he didn't dissolve my anxieties right now.

Ellis: What should I do? Tell me, Kate.

Kate: ...

(If I honestly let myself be spoiled...)

(Could I melt away Ellis' anxieties too?)

Kate: ... Just for a little while...

Kate: I want you to hold me.

Ellis: Yeah... Okay.

He pulled me into a tight hug while still sitting on the floor.

(It's so warm...)

Ellis' arms were warm, gentle, and smelled nice.

Ellis: It's okay.

Ellis: I'm here.

Ellis: When you're scared, I'll hold you like this.

Each word that tumbled out, one by one, pooled in my chest like sweet, sweet jam.

The dull, lingering pain, the anxieties about tomorrow... it was as if everything I'd been suppressing was being stroked by his warm, large hand.

...I'm in trouble.

I can't escape from this...

I was trying to be careful not to be too dependent.

But being enveloped in this cotton-like affection feels so good, I can't help but want to surrender myself to these arms.

Just being like this for a while... my anxieties melt away and disappear like butter dropped into hot milk.

Kate: Thank you... I'm sorry.

Ellis: From now on, apologies are forbidden.

Kate: Why?

Ellis: Because I understand better than anyone how hard Kate is working.

Ellis: Ever since you came here, I've been watching you work hard... everything, up close.

Looking up, I see the smile that always reassures me.

(Thanks to Ellis, the anxiety I felt earlier seems to have eased a bit.)

Kate: Thank you, Ellis.

Ellis: Yeah...

Ellis held me for a while longer, then lifted me up and sat me on the bed.

Ellis: Would you like some hot milk?

Kate: ...Yes, please.

Ellis: Let's go eat something even more delicious tomorrow.

(He remembered the promise we made before going to the casino.)

Kate: But I have to rest... Tomorrow might be difficult.

Ellis: No, it's okay. I have a secret weapon.

Kate: A secret weapon? What is it?

Ellis: Hmm... it's a secret until tomorrow.

Kate: Eh...?

Ellis' mischievous smile is somehow cute, and a natural smile spills out.

----While having such lighthearted conversation, the hot milk and bread were completely gone.

Ellis put the dishes and mug back on the tray, stood up from the bed, and suddenly narrowed his eyes mischievously.

Ellis: ...Want me to cast a spell for good dreams?

Kate: Is that a secret too?

Ellis: I'll give you a hint. It's something I used to get a lot when I was little.

Kate: Hehe... then, please.

(I wonder what kind of spell it is...)

While waiting with a smile, imagining little Ellis, I feel a presence gently bending down...

(...Ah)

The warmth of soft lips touches my forehead, and a sweet ache tugs at my heart.

(All the remaining anxiety disappears...)

For some reason, the distant, faint memories of being protected by unconditional love in my childhood come back to me.

I don't think I've felt such a gentle touch since I became an adult... That's how much Ellis' touch warmed and trembled my heart.

Ellis: .............

(...Ah)

His lips that were touching mine, part.

Following the rising feeling, I gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt with my fingertips.

Ellis: ...Kate being clingy is cute.

Kate: .....!

At his words, I was startled and let go of his sleeve.

Ellis was smiling happily.

Ellis: You could have held on longer.

Kate: N-no, I'm okay now... Thank you.

Ellis: Is that so?

His laughing voice tickles my heart.

Ellis: Sweet dreams.

Ellis: Goodnight, Kate.

By the time I heard the door close-- My heart had become like a pancake soaked in sweet jam.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 11

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[scr11bles]

hii !! i saw ur medic fic and fell in loveeee !!! i love their work. could i order a transmasc reader x spy tequila espresso with a side of black forest gateau and vanilla macarons ? :3€

order up for anon! Wanna order something for yourself? here's the menu!

- tequila espresso: "I didn't think you'd be so responsive." + black forest gateau: cockwarming + vanilla macaron: gentle sex

(MDNI under the cut!)

cw: drinking/slight inebriation, smoking

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You liked Spy. And you believed he liked you too. Honestly, in the beginning he was rude, overly cocky, and just a flat out asshole, but damn did his charms overrule the cons of his personality. Now after a few years of being a member of the Red team, you grew to be the closest with Spy. Sure, you liked your other teammates, but there was just something different about the Frenchman that made you swoon.

You almost felt bad about your feelings at first. You wanted to chalk it up to the suave nonchalance that Spy exuded, but overtime you wanted to believe that he treated you differently because he liked you. So now here you are, walking down the eccentrically decorated hallway to Spy's study, wringing your hands together nervously at just the mere prospect of spending time with him, as if you haven't done it hundreds of times before. It was a common occurrence, where you would meet in his study, drink, smoke, maybe even share a dinner that he himself prepared instead of what the others cooked.

Wen you approach the door to the study, it creaks open and there stands Spy, looking down at you with his usual sly smirk.

"On time as always, mon ami."

He opens the large wooden door to his study, letting you slip past him before he lets it close shut with a heavy thunk. Spy's study was by far (in your opinion) the most beautiful thing in the whole base. The whole room is decorated extravagantly, expensive paintings hanging from the walls, elegant furniture placed throughout the room, and the roaring fireplace that bathes the study in a soft orange glow. You make yourself comfortable on one of the large couches close to the fireplace, basking in the warmth that the smoldering wood emits. Spy sends you a small glance over his shoulder before walking over to a nearby cabinet that holds his alcohol, laughing to himself gently at the sight of you sitting on the plush couch, remembering that only a couple of months ago you were more timid than a mouse to even sit on one of the elegant pieces of furniture.

Spy opens the cabinet, running the tips of his fingers along the tops of the various bottles of alcohol before selecting a vintage wine. He takes the cork off and pours two glasses fluidly, turning back around with the glasses in his hands and walking to where you sit in the couch. Spy extends the glass out to you, smirking as his gloved fingers brush against yours when you gingerly grasp the glass of wine and take a tentative sip.

"Je boirais lentement, ce vin est plus vieux que toi."

The man purrs, turning and sitting down in a lavish chair in front of the couch you chose to sit on. Spy reaches into his suit and pulls out a packet of cigarettes, a premium brand- you notice, and lights one swiftly with a small lighter before bringing the stick of tobacco to his lips and letting the smoke linger on his tongue before exhaling.

The two of you talk for hours, simply conversing on simple topics or delving into more intimate ones- it's what close friends do, right? You're two glasses deep into the wine bottle when you stand up for another refill, Spy smiling up at you from his seated spot and beckoning you over to him with a small flick of his gloved fingers.

"Come have mine, mon couer."

You oblige and walk over to him, taking his half drank glass of wine, and slowly sipping the rest of the contents while maintaining eye contact with the Frenchman. You swear you see his eyes darken as he looks up at you, his gaze flicking to your lips before he reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours, making your eyebrows cinch together in confusion before he tugs you forwards, making you stumble and fall into his lap.

You feel your face burn from the embarrassment of the forced position, your heart stuttering in your chest as you straddle your teammate, your thighs pressing into his hips. Spy looks up at you with lidded eyelids, brushing his gloved thumb over your knuckles and bringing your hand up to press gentle kisses to your fingers.

"This is okay, right? I want confirmation."

You nod your head more eagerly than you thought, making the man beneath you chuckle and bring his cigarette up to his lips, taking a long drag and putting the butt of it out before grabbing the back of your head and connecting your lips in an electric kiss. Spy pushes the smoke into your mouth, the heady tobacco making your senses burn along with the passion of your teammates kiss. Spy pulls back first, making you whine lowly and send him a small glare before it softens as he moves his hand down your body, caressing your waist before pushing his hand under the hem of your shirt, the cool leather of his gloves contrasting with your heated skin.

Spy moves his hand up your body slowly, letting his fingers explore every inch of your skin before he stops as his fingers brush against your top surgery scars, gently caressing the scar tissue before he teases your nipple with his thumb, smirking to himself as you keen and whine beneath his touch.

"I didn't think you'd be so responsive, mon couer. I haven't even done anything yet."

He mumbles softly as he rolls his hips up into yours, the audible sound of his breath catching in the back of his throat making your blood run even hotter. Spy continues to tease your nipple, bringing his other hand down and unbuttoning your pants, giving him easier access to your underwear. He snakes his hand down your underwear, brushing his fingers through your slick and smirking up at you from the sound the elicits from your throat. The Frenchman glances to the side, staring into the fireplace in contemplation before a small wicked smile tugs at his lips, withdrawing his hands from you and making you stand up as he does. Grabbing a nearby book and opening it to a folded page, his other hand swiftly undoing his belt as he sits back down on the expensive chair, the apparent tent in his pants calling out to you. When you take a step forwards Spy raises his hand, looking you up and down with hooded eyelids.

"Strip for me, won't you?"

Spy purrs, laughing softly at your flustered expression before watching you start to undress with hungry eyes. After you've shed all your clothes Spy beckons you towards him, gently grabbing your wrist and guiding you to straddle his lap once more, relishing in the moan that escapes past your lips as his clothed cock brushes against your dripping mound. Spy reaches down, steadily pulling his underwear down to free his aching cock, hissing through his teeth as he guides himself into you slowly, sighing happily as you sink your tight heat onto him.

The subtle burn of Spy's cock inside of you is delicious, making your hips stutter and jerk as you acclimate to his size. Spy's hand grasps onto your waist, squeezing your hip and giving you a serious look as he smirks.

"I need you to stay still for a bit, surely you can do that?"

The request makes you squirm, causing Spy to grip your hip tighter to keep you in place. The man simply opens his book to his saved page, shifting his hips to get comfortable as he starts to read. After a few grueling minutes of silence and the occasional glance Spy gives you, you start to shift your hips impatiently, making the man beneath you tut at you and squeeze your hip.

"So impatient."

The Frenchman tsks at you, snapping his book shut and setting it down on the nearby end table and giving you a feigned look of annoyance before he bucks his hips up into yours, reveling in the broken moan that falls from your parted lips. Spy chuckles to himself as you start to move your hips, the sound followed by a rumbling moan from deep in his throat as he matches your rhythm as he moves his gloved hands to rest on your waist before moving them up your back to pull you close to him so your face rests in the crook of his neck, his rich cologne clogging your senses.

Spy's soft moans flit past your ears, his hot breath ghosting over your skin as he continues to roll his hips, snaking one of his hands down to brush over your perked bundle of nerves. At the stimulation, you keen, arching into Spy as he quickens his pace and starts to pepper quick kisses along your throat and jaw, connecting your lips once again for a heated kiss. Spy parts from your lips to let out a hitched groan, quickening his fingers beneath you to match his level of pleasure as he slowly careens towards his release.

Spy tilts his hips, smirking when he feels your body turn to mush at the different angle, his cock brushing the sweetest spot in you. With just a mere flick of his gloved fingers brushing over your clit the pleasurable band that was growing taut in your stomach snaps, heavy whimpers and gasps tumbling past your lips as you cum around Spy. The tightening of your heat around Spy forces him over the edge, the Frenchman nipping at your ear and jaw as he groans softly, painting your insides with all he has while his thrusts falter and turn to lazy twitching movements. Spy chuckles as you whine into his neck, moving one of his hands to gently grasp the back of your neck and pull your head back to make you look at him, grabbing another cigarette from nearby and lighting it before bringing it up to your lips to let you have the first drag.

"Let's stay like this for a bit, shall we?"

how could you refuse when he says it like that?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

would you guys believe me if i said i was a spy disliker for a long time (he was too hot i didnt wanna admit it)

[knot-ee]

For once, just once!, Suguru Geto -- sorcerer, cult-leader, revolutionary -- wanted to forget and relax. It was difficult what with being surrounded by monkeys. It smelled of humans. The air of devoid of cursed energy. Everything in the room was created by ordinary humans. No one, not even his allies, would ever think Suguru would willingly place himself in a hot building surrounded by monkeys. It was exactly why he was there. There were no expectations, no obligations, and no jujutsu pricks to ruin his style. He had always been a free spirit long since joining Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech as a teenager, then killing curses took over his life, then paving a new future for sorcerers while being a father.

He couldn't go back to his naive and burden free days; this was the closest thing he got. One night to let his hair down, literally, and let loose... probably literally too. Peach and plum flavored drinks were buzzing in his system. The sugar content would have killed him if he wasn't a superior being but the alcohol was definitely messing with his brain. It felt good though. He was even being generous with the filthy monkeys because he had the money for it. Drinks were flowing free and Suguru licked his lips to taste what was left of the fruity wines. Someone took that as an invitation. Several people did.

Women were eager to rub up on Suguru and only after twenty shrug off did they finally get the hint. Who could blame them? Suguru Geto was better than any idol on a billboard being 180cm tall, with hair which silk envied reaching to his lower back, and a killer body accentuated with great fashion choices. From head to toe Suguru was decked out in premium ware. High top leather boots, tight black pants with chains hanging around his waist, a black button-up with the top buttons undone and a leather harness layered ontop, and silver rings, necklace, and his usual plugs switched out with those patterned with a silver dragon.

It was far too hot though what with the alcohol and the hands occasionally roaming across his body. He didn't give into anyone's touch until he felt large strong hands wander down his back to reach his waist. A man. So Suguru figured. It was the modern age but Japan was still judgemental and antiquated. In the dark though... who could tell. The person behind him (Suguru ignored it was a filthy human) smelled good at least. And felt good when the sorcerer arched his body to contour to that behind him.

The press of an erection at his ass was unmistakable. His hair was moved aside for the human to murmur something into his ear. Suguru didn't hear. Didn't want to hear. He just moved with the music and pressed the curvature of his well-sculpted ass against that bulge. So wrapped up in his own needs, he never expected to find another sorcerer in the club.. especially not a jujutsu sorcerer. The jujutsu sorcerer with six eyes eyes noticing everything.

@fateofflames