#her not being around is just Not Right at all
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rafesangelita · 3 days ago
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…SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER AU
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⋆𐙚₊˚🍺⊹♡
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who spend a lottt of time in the back seat of his cop car. they have an age gap that would raise all kinds of alarm if the people of the small town they resided in ever found out. sheriff!rafe is beefy, his muscles bulging through every shirt he wears. farmer’s!daughter!reader is too busy raising hell all around town in hopes that someone calls the police station so rafe can handcuff her and get her act cleaned up. “you can’t just go actin’ a fool whenever you feel like screwin’ i mean it!” he’s pulling her underwear up her thighs as she lays face down against his leather seats, completely fucked out. “whatever you say, dad.” rafe is groaning at her words as he uncuffs her. “yeah? i oughta’ take you home right now then and let him know about all the trouble you been gettin’ into.”
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who go on their dates in the next town over so they don’t run the risk of being caught by any locals. farmer’s!daughter!reader who teases rafe all the time, calling him an ‘old man’ and saying he’s a perv for entertaining her antics. “there’s a motel not too far from here.. just ‘sayin.” there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips, the older man in front of her looking unamused. “you’re suggesting that i take you to a motel and you’re callin’ me a perv? get outta here.” despite his faux disinterest, they end up checking into the said motel for the night, his stomach slapping against her clit as he fucks her into oblivion on the dingy mattress of the cheap room. sheriff!rafe who actually knows farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father very well, both of them going all the way back to their high school days.
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who can’t stand each other sometimes. rafe is scolding her, telling her that she shouldn’t be wearing those ‘godforsaken’ shorts of hers since it draws a lot of the wrong attention. “you’re just mad because jj maybank is wondering what color panties i have on..” she’s leaning into the window of his cop car, his jaw clenching as he eyed the scruffy looking blonde who stood not too far away, shot gunning hot beers with his friends. “mad at the ‘maybank kid? please, darlin’ he’s a joke.” she’s laughing at his words, getting close to his ear before whispering; “i’m glad you think so, because i’m about to go over there and tell him i’m not wearing any..” that sets rafe off and it isn’t long before he’s slamming jj down against the hood of his car and arresting him for underaged drinking..
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who are such polar opposites, even they don’t understand how they work together. sheriff!rafe has a rough exterior, seemingly cold, closed off and never smiles, whereas farmer’s!daughter!reader is dancing on tables in bars she shouldn’t even be at, and being a little minx to see how many free drinks she can get out of the regulars. so much so, that rafe started patrolling around town at night so he could stop her from doing something stupid. and of course, without fail, he’s getting a radio call saying there’s been a report of a quote, unquote ‘young woman resisting arrest and assaulting an officer.’ and rafe is arriving onto the scene almost immediately, cursing under his breath when he see’s her being held down by at least four of his men in uniform.
SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who eventually have to get serious with one another, both of them knowing that what they have is anything but casual. sheriff!rafe who doesn’t know how to go about it, so he decides it’s best to just be blunt. “so uhm— what do ‘ya say to moving out of your pop’s and living with me instead?” farmer’s!daughter!reader is staring at him from across the table at their favorite diner. “what?” she’s frozen, holding her knife over her plate of fluffy pancakes. “are you serious?” rafe is nodding as he takes a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips. “yeah, but this rowdy act of yours needs to stop. m’not gonna have you actin’ reckless if i’m the one taking care of you.” he doesn’t have to tell her twice before she’s nodding, throwing her arms around the grumpy sheriff before pressing kisses to his cheek.
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reignpage · 2 days ago
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Lying To Himself
Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence
You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye. 
“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”
And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.
The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines. 
“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face. 
A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.
He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to be balls naked in their own kitchen.
"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.
Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."
His friend gives him a look, half amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.
It’s been great. Really fucking great. 
You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and making sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you. 
It’s fine. 
At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.
More days pass just like that. 
And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring, obnoxiously loud. It’s like he's suddenly realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the mornings that’s always greener than the last. 
His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack when it’s not from you. 
“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”
The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say as if you’re yapping right in his ear. 
“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake as fuck. What was the fucking budget for this shit?”
Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways? 
When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye nowadays. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up. 
“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”
Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that. 
Instead, he eats on the sofa or in his car.
Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question. 
“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”
He gets two nights of decent sleep after that.
But then…
The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood. 
But what they don’t know is that you texted, just a day before you’re set to come back, to let him know you’re staying another week. 
Fucking texted. 
Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice. 
He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out. 
Everyone knows he’s losing his mind. They can tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he’s started snapping at women who are either flirting or just doing their jobs. And sometimes they even have to block his view of couples practising PDA. That’s the closest to hell they ever want to get around Toji. Suddenly, everyone’s hoping you throw the guy a bone and send a nude or something. Literally anything to rein him back in.
The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home. 
“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”
Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh. 
The door handle rattles. 
He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing. 
You’re here. 
“Hey, Toji—“
Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble. 
“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”
His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute. 
“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”
“No.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”
Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat. 
“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”
“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion. 
He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”
Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason from keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”
Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.
It’s almost like…
No. 
It can’t be. 
Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure. 
Toji missed you. 
An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better. 
Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.
Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you. 
“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts. 
Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home. 
Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.
He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready with the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.
“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.” 
And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says, 
“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”
Yeah, this man totally missed you. 
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prael · 3 days ago
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Day 1: Scandal
Aespa Karina x male reader smut
words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist
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They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.
If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.
There are a lot of those going around.
No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.
It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.
Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.
That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.
It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?
Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.
Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.
You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.
Didn't work too well.
There was a close call, once.
You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.
So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.
So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.
It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.
But damn was it fun.
She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.
But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.
A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.
Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.
Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."
If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...
See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.
So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?
A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.
Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.
She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.
And it wasn't soft either.
It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.
"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."
"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.
She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.
Tonight wasn't going to be any different.
Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.
As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.
"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.
There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.
A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.
You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.
See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.
She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."
For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.
So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.
You weren't gentle.
Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.
So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.
Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.
A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.
"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.
No danger of that.
Maybe you should have.
Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.
But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.
So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.
See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.
She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.
One stroke and you bottomed out within her.
Two strokes and she began moaning again.
By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.
The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.
"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.
And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.
You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.
She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.
How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.
"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"
She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.
It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.
And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.
Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.
You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.
Her phone caught it all.
Every minute.
When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.
"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."
She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.
"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."
She looked right into your eyes as she said it.
"It's my favourite thing in the world."
So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.
In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."
"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.
"Doubt it," you replied.
Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.
"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.
Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.
You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.
"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."
And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"
"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."
"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.
Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.
She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.
Your phone rang.
"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.
Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.
She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.
Your phone kept ringing.
You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.
You came again.
Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.
Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."
"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.
"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."
A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.
"Fuck them," she laughed.
"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"
Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.
"You're relentless," you marvelled.
"And you love it."
"I love-"
There's a bang at the door and then a bell.
Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.
Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.
"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."
You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.
She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.
More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.
You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.
The icon has the word 'live' beside it.
You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.
Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.
"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.
Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.
1K notes · View notes
defmaybe · 2 days ago
Text
Promise
12 Days of Christmas: Day 2, December 26th, 2024
LE SSERAFIM’s Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader
8.8k words
Christmas Masterlist
Tumblr media
A/N: This is actually my first time writing about a guy being dominant lol.
Ambition.
It’s not really a far-fetched concept for anyone. To aim higher has always been an innate trait in humans. Kazuha is nothing short of that, perhaps having the quality even more than a lot of people.
So, it breaks your heart to say no to her.
“Kazuha, I really can’t. I’m sorry,” you say, despondent in your response. “The solos have never been in our plan.”
She sighs, as if she has already known the outcome of her request. But her eyes remain determined, staring straight into yours. 
She’s not going anywhere.
Kazuha’s personality is nothing short of resolute. Motivation, determination, diligence—she has it all. These are reflected in the over-time practice sessions every single day. The time she pours into perfecting the dance choreographies is unreal. And it really shows on the stage, it really shows.
She stands up, her long, muscular legs come into your view. They’re beautiful, and you can just spend all day looking at them, but that’s going to be postponed for now. There’s the puzzle of guessing her mind right in front of you.
“Is there anything else I can do to convince you? More practice? Better stage perform–”
“No, Zuha, I’m so, so sorry about this, but we’ve never been a vocal group, really. You’ll have to under–”
“I don’t want to be remembered as just another member of this group. Please, this is important to me. I’ll do anything, please,” she pleads.
It’s your turn to sigh. She won’t let up, will she? Your fingers tap onto the handle of the chair restlessly, unable to find a solution for this woman.
“I just can’t find a solution for you right now, Zuha. If you really want that, you’ll have to find your own way, alright? I’m sorry.” You’re trying to sound stern, but there’s only regret within the words.
She takes a step towards you, resting her hands on the table. Her shirt falls down slightly to give way for you to her faint cleavage. Your breath hitches slightly.
“Please?” she pleads, one last time. That slight view of her breasts is giving her the upper hand in this.
Don’t.
You find your mouth latching onto Kazuha’s tits, tasting the sweat after her practice. She cries and cries in euphoria, spurring you on. Your hands roam around her body, feeling her otherworldly tight abs, her supple ass—one that you’ve been wanting to bury your face into. Your fingers then find their place inside her cunt, nudging her sensitive spot deep within.
Don’t
“You know, Kazuha, I found your ambition–” you say, standing up to match her tall height. Still, you have to look up slightly to match her eyes. “–admirable. It’s one of your best qualities. It really breaks my heart to say no to you.”
“Thanks, boss,” she scoffs, looking down with despondency. The fire in her eyes died down. “I’ll come back when I’m ready.”
Kazuha then walks away, crestfallen. Her strides are aimless and disinterested. The view of her back is displayed to you. 
With your eyes, you start to strip her, piece by piece—from her shirt, her pants. She’s in just her underwear now. Your cock starts to grow at the mental image you create inside your head. 
You slowly unlock her bra, fully revealing her toned back. Her body warmth emanates into you. You reach for her pert breasts, making her moan as your fingers graze her hard, brown nipples. But you don’t stop just there. Your frisky fingers wander down into her panties. You found out that she shaves, and she’s already fucking wet for you. Then, you plunge your fingers into her soaked cunt, rewarding you with an airy moan from Kazuha. You nib on her ears softly, bringing out another whimper from her.
Without any patience left, you strip down her last garment, making her bare in front of you, and you can tell that she’s as aroused as you are. Her dripping cunt is finally coming into your view. Her body is yours. She’s yours.
Don’t.
You’re snapped back into reality, though. Back to watching her, almost leaving the room. You have to take your chance. 
Now.
“I’m not done yet, Zuha,” you order, sounding serious for the first time. It gets over you. Lust gets over you.
She stops, looking back at you. Her breath hitches as she sees the newfound determination inside your eyes. There’s something about you, and she can feel it.
“Yes, boss?”
“Let’s say for tomorrow, you wear something–different, something that is a bit more–provocative, and we’ll see what happens.”
Kazuha furrows her brows, giving you a puzzled look. “P–Provocative?”
You only nod, expressionless, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating so damn fast right now. “Provocative, Zuha.”
“A–And wh–what will I get in return?” Kazuha asks, her voice starts to shake. Her confidence is faltering.
You smile back at her unsure expression. She’s going to get what she wants—a chance to have the spotlight on her own. You’re going to get what you want—her.
“You know how this goes, Zuha. You know how this goes.”
“I–I d–don’t know. D–Do I really need to do this? I mean–I want to have that solo–”
“I’ll be in the practice room tomorrow, make sure to follow my instructions,” you say, stern and confident.
The words linger within her mind. “I–fuck–fine, boss,” and she gives in to you.
“Don’t ruin it, Zuha.”
You couldn’t sleep last night.
Kazuha is stuck in your head. Your mind replays the event that might happen—you having a mind-breaking sex with her. Your cock twitches with anticipation, expecting her cunt to wrap around it like a vice. Hell, you might get to fuck her tight ass even. You’ve seen it. You lost count of how many times you’ve watched that Perfect Night dance practice video. The cinematographer did know their job.
“Mmm, that felt so good, boss.”
How in the fuck did you stay assertive like that in the room? That wasn’t you at all. Though, at least it opened a new door for you.
You’re getting to watch Nakamura Kazuha in her tightest, smallest clothes she’s ever going to wear, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll be off by sunset.
Kazuha opens the door into the practice room to find you already there, dealing with work, among other things.
You give her a faint smile, satisfied with the way she composes herself for today.
She’s wearing a tight-fitted sports bra, one that shows you the curve of her firm chest. You’d love to put your hand on them, kneading, nibbling her taut nipples through the thin fabric. Her hair is freed, swaying with her strides. Below, her shorts are so damn strained that you can see the outline of her soon-to-be drenched panties. You’re going to use your mouth to take it off, while your hands grip on her muscular thig–
“Hey, boss,” Sakura snaps you back into reality. Standing beside her is Eunchae, smiling brightly.
“Shit–fuck–,” you mumble to yourself. “Uh, hi, girls.”
“Yeah, I noticed it too,” Eunchae says to you, voice barely above a whisper. “She probably forgot to do her laundry.”
“Who–Who?” Fuck, you sound like a goddamn owl doing this.
“Zuha, she’s wearing something that’s a bit–exposing, isn’t she?” Sakura says, smiling.
“Bet she must be so damn embarrassed,” Eunchae adds with a giggle. You can feel your cheeks starting to grow hotter.
“Uh, y–yeah, she must’ve been–”
“Alright, girls, let’s start the practice,” the instructor shouts, clapping her hands.
Sakura and Eunchae giggle at each other before walking away from you.
“See ya, boss.”
“See ya.”
As the practice goes on, you can’t help but popping up from your work to watch Kazuha now and then. Just like last night, your length starts to grow, and you’re doing your best to use your laptop to hide the tent in your pants.
(The work is actually a façade, really. If you could just stare at Kazuha for the whole practice, you wouldn’t have risked straining your back carrying your laptop down from the top floor.)
Her movements are nothing short of strong and sensual. She’s committed, showing no signs of relenting. She has always been this determined. Every kick, every sway, every arch, she gives it all.
When she bends down, you have a magnificent view of her supple ass, so juicy. You wish you could’ve put your face in it, tasting her sweat dripping down her tightness. 
When she arches, you have a splendid view of her small tits under that damn tight sports bra. You wish you could’ve sucked on them, tasting her sweat dripping down her valley. You wish you could’ve made her moan erratically in your embrace.
Your bulge is screaming under your tight pants. It aches to be freed, aches to be inside of your employee’s ass, aches to be thrusted into her mouth.
The other women don’t seem to notice, still focusing on the practice. Thank god.
As the practice comes to an end, you’re struggling to hide your raging erection under your slacks. It’s time to approach her for the next step, so you stand up and walk towards Kazuha, who is all drenched in her sweat. Her creamy skin shines against the lights in the practice room. She’s stretching to cool down herself, while all the other members and the instructor are already leaving the room.
“So,” you begin the conversation.
“So,” Kazuha repeats. “How did I do?”
You try to compose yourself. “You did well, Kazuha. Committed as always.”
She smiles. It’s a genuine one. “Thanks, boss.”
You continue, “Now, about the solo comeback we’ve talked about.” You sit next to her. You can feel her body warmth close to you. Maybe you’re sitting a bit too close to her. Her expression is unreadable. Maybe she’s expecting something from you.
“Yeah? Is it done?”
“Let’s say–we’re halfway there.”
Kazuha’s breaths speed up a little. She’s anxious.
“Halfway?”
“Halfway, yes.”
“Go ahead, boss. Tell me what to do,” Kazuha says, slightly apprehensive, but she still has her ground. Her fiery eyes bore into yours.
Here goes nothing.
Your hands make a soft contact with her knees. You hear her breath hitch softly. Her eyes weaken. You can feel the apprehension building up within her loins. Her body jolts.
“B–Boss,” she stutters, before she brings her hand atop of yours, putting some force on it. Your movement is halted.
“A–Are you sure that I have to do this?”
You should stop.
You gulp, unsure whether to have this woman go your way or let your lust take over.
Do the right thing.
The image of Kazuha’s body, all sweaty, atop of yours, moving back and forth on your cock, materializes in your head. Her nasty, salty fluid falls onto your naked body. Her pungent aroma fills your nostrils, and it’s driving you insane. Her small breasts rest above you, and you can’t help but give them a taste.
You should stop.
Kazuha mouth’s create a suction around your cock. Your wails echo through the practice room. You grip onto the back of her head, harshly pressing it into your hardness. She gags and gags. Her eyes become watery. Her grips on your thighs grow harsher, and it’s going to draw blood out of you.
Do the right thing.
You’re lavishing Kazuha’s cunt with unmatched hunger. She cries out in ecstasy. You keep attacking her sensitive nub with your tongue. Your fingers are knuckles deep within her, applying pressure on the spot that makes her moan even louder. Her taste is salty, yet so addictive. She tastes so fucking good.
You should stop.
You’re gripping onto her waist, thrusting into her wet cunt repeatedly. “Yes, yes, right fucking there, boss. Please, please, please don’t ever fucking stop,” Kazuha sobs. Wet sounds vibrate through the practice room. The reflection of you two in the mirror only fuels the fire. You bring your hands onto her firmness, playing with her taut nipples. She keens, and it’s one of the best things that you’ve ever heard from her.
Do the right thing.
But you give in.
“How far can you go, Zuha?” You keep your composure. Please make it work. Your heart rate spikes, but your breathing is still saying the opposite. Keep your cool. Keep your cool.
“I–” She stares blankly into your eyes. You can feel that the gears in her brain are turning quickly. Yes or no. Yes or no.
“Stand up, Zuha,” you order and get up from your sitting position. She looks around, trying to find solace in the objects in the room. She’s unsure.
“Fuck,” she mumbles to herself, before getting up. She’s a bit taller than you, but with the power you’re holding, it’s like you’re six-feet tall.
“Stand against the mirror,” you say, sternly, pointing to the reflective wall. She hesitates for a bit before complying with your command.
You walk towards her until you’re just a breath away from her. You kneel. Her cunt is right in front of your face. She’s pervading your nostrils, and you’re so damn happy to make her your air.
“A–are you going to eat me out, b–boss?” Kazuha asks nervously. Her hands are trembling.
“How much do you want this, Zuha?” you ask her back. Your hands are closing in on her tight waistband already. You want to eat her pussy so fucking bad.
“I–I don’t know.”
You let the silence hang in the air for a moment, contemplating your next move. Maybe you should stop just here. Just say no to her request, and act like this never happened. 
But the show has to go on.
“I’ll go slowly, okay?”
“O–Okay, boss.”
You slowly peel down her shorts, slowly revealing her black panties underneath. They’re already drenched with her sweat. God, if you could just give it a taste. You can feel the urge to stick out your tongue. Her creamy thighs are slowly exposed to you, but you can’t just yield to temptation that easily. You have to go slow.
The outline of her puffy cunt can be seen through the dark fabric. She looks so fucking delicious from the outside. You find yourself closing in the distance between your filthy tongue and her pungent, drenched folds.
“Boss, p–please don’t tease me,” Kazuha hisses. Her thighs are shaking from the uncompromising anticipation. You can see sweat running down her toned legs. “If you’re going to do it, just fucking do it.”
And you break.
You yank her shorts down, making her body jolt in shock. 
“Kick it off,” you order her, and she kicks her shorts away in the boiling lust. It’s just her underwear now, before your tongue can taste her nectar. You’re drooling at the sight of the trace of her pussy. Fuck, you’re not waiting anymore.
Hastily, you grab onto her panties’ waistband before pulling it off in a quick swoop, rewarding you with an airy moan. And there it is, the treasure you’ve been seeking. Her clean-shaven cunt already glistens. Her juice shines under the room’s lights. Her scent is so damn addictive. It’s pungent. It’s musky. It’s tart, and you can’t help but–
“Ah! Fuck!” Kazuha rasps as your tongue finds its place on her cunt. It echoes through the empty practice room. Her body turns rigid. Her hands grip onto your head harshly, pushing you into her pussy even harder.
The first taste of her cunt feels salty—a combination of her sweat and her juice. You’re lapping it up relentlessly. You’re revelling in it—the way she moans, the way she tastes, and the way she just fucking keens. It’s all so perfect.
She curses and curses a variety of profanities. Her face displays pure ecstasy and a glint of embarrassment, but your only goal right now is to make her falter. You keep lapping and lapping on her cunt, tasting her nectar without yielding.
Her eyes are lit up with raging fire, fluttering in bliss. Her hands grip onto your head harshly. It's almost drawing blood from your poor scalp. Her cries only climb in volume and frequency, more demanding. It grows louder and higher with each lapping of your tongue.
You double your efforts, eating her cunt out faster and faster hungrily. Her rasps become harsher. You close your eyes and take in her scent through your nose. It’s musky. It’s tart. And you swear that it’s a fucking aphrodisiac for you.
And if it’s not enough, your hands grab onto her firm ass, suffocating yourself with her pungent cunt. She lets out a gasp, and you swear that you’ve never been any more feral like this in your whole fucking life.
Her ass feels so meaty, a product of her consistent squat routines. You do nothing but give them a squeeze and a grab, bringing out endless wails from her thin lips.
Then, an idea pops up in your filthy head.
“Turn around, Zuha.”
“Wh–What, boss?”
“I’m gonna eat your ass.”
She complies quickly, showing her tight ass in front of your face. It’s heaving. She’s expecting. And without a word, you bury yourself in between her supple cheeks. Your tongue immediately plants atop of her asshole.
“Godddd~” Kazuha grunts, her voice low and harsh. The sweat running down her tightness combining with her juice makes up an even better taste. You’re basking in them—her taste, her aroma, her moans, her sounds.
Her body spasms in a bliss. Her hips jerk against the practice room wall, painting it with her salty sweat on her meaty thighs.
And if that isn’t already enough, you drive your fingers deep into her. They’re hugged by her tight walls, before you’d curl them to make her cry even more.
“Fuckkk~” she groans, deeply. She uses her hands to grip onto the back of your head. You’re pressed into her ass even stronger. Her moans start to get frenzy, and that drives you even wilder.
“B–Boss, please, I–I’m gonna cum,” Kazuha screams, echoing over the room. Her entire body turns more rigid, sucking the life out of your dirty mouth.
“Hgnngn.” Kazuha can only form unintelligible sounds at this point. Any lilt in her voice is now replaced by primal grunts and moans.
And she cums. Her frame becomes stiff, gushing out clear liquid out of her plump pussy onto the wooden floor. Her entire body spasms and writhes against the wall, painting it with her sweat. Your mouth goes through the entire ride of her orgasm, feeling her high, savoring her precipice.
As her orgasm dies down, what comes out of her mouth are indescribable groans and guttural whimpers. Her body becomes limped after the mind-breaking orgasm she just experienced.
“Fuck, I–I’ve never thought–” she pauses to catch her breath, trying to make sense of the situation. Her head is hanging from her neck. Her body rests on the mirror weakly. Her boss just gave her one of the best orgasms of her life. “–I’ve never thought that it could be this good with a person.”
You wipe your mouth, getting a taste of her salty squirt remaining on your hand. “My pleasure, Zuha.”
“Guess–Guess I should–I should return the favor, huh?”
You stand up. Even if she’s towering over you by mere inches, you feel like the ball is in your court, and you are going to do whatever you please with it.
“Kneel.”
She slowly gets down. Her eyes lock with yours, filled with uncertainty and anxiety. You aren’t sure what’s filling her mind right now. Lust? Disgust? You can only guess.
You let it go on, anyway.
Her slick forehead shines against the room lights. Her hands start to unbuckle your tight jeans, slowly freeing your cock from its fabric cage. As the first barrier goes down, she watches your covered erection anxiously. Her breathing accelerates. Her hands tremble. She’s unsure, but what is she unsure about?
“B–Boss,” Kazuha stammers.
“Yes, Zuha?” you say, looking down to meet her eyes.
“Wh–What if I don’t do well?”
“I don’t mind, really. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” you say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sure, you’d love to have power over her, but not to the point where it leaves her in dread.
“Thanks, boss,” she answers, before grabbing onto the edge of your boxers. She slowly pulls it down to reveal your hardness. It springs free. She’s watching it in awe, taking in the image of your stiff cock.
She starts slowly, stroking your cock from the base. Your breath becomes shorter.
“Are you okay, boss?”
“J–Just go on, Zuha.”
Kazuha then plants her lips on the tip of your cock, making your body shudder in pleasure. She’s coating you in her saliva. She’s making you go wild.
“Fuck.”
Kazuha lets out a giggle before taking in more of your length, starting from the whole tip. There’s determination in her eyes, the eagerness to make you cry out her name in bliss.
She doubles her efforts, second by second. She takes in more and more of your thick cock into her filthy mouth, and you start to reach her throat. It feels so fucking good. Your breathing grows more erratic. You can almost moan in pleasure, if it’s not her teeth that keep getting in the way. They keep grazing your cock, and it’s the only thing that stops you from crying her name out.
“Z–Zuha, shit, fuck, y–your teeth.”
She suddenly pulls back from the act, leaving you lost in the sudden absence of your high. Her hand detaches from you.
“Yes?” she asks, drool leaks out the edge of her mouth.
“Fuck.” You try to catch your breath, trying not to collapse onto the floor. “Y–Your teeth, it keeps grazing my cock.”
“Oh,” Kazuha utters. “Should we just–try something else?”
You stare into her eyes. Her expression is unreadable, but you need an upper hand in this. She’s going to suck your cock.
“Do it again, Zuha. Suck my cock again.” Your voice is commanding. You swear that you’ve never been this assertive before in your life. “Without the teeth.”
She looks up at you. There’s anxiety in her eyes. There’s the fear of letting you down.
“S–Sure, boss.”
She moves her gorgeous face towards your cock again. This time, she makes sure to wrap her lips around her teeth. And at the first contact, you cry out her name. It feels so fucking good.
“Fuck, Z–Zuha.”
She only smiles with the tip of your cock in her mouth. She stays there for a while, giving your tip licks and licks to make you whimper in rapture. Her hands stroke along your length. Her eyes look up at you, she knows she’s having a lead.
Kazuha then takes more and more of you and seconds go by, slowly. You watch as your length disappears into her mouth and her name leaves yours.
She takes your cock in so deep you start to hear her gag. Her eyes start to flutter in discomfort. She’s still trying to look up at you, as her hands go to your testicles. She’s squeezing them.
“God, fuck!”
Her saliva does wonders to the experience, making you suck a sudden every chance you have. It’s hard to resist not pushing her fully onto your cock right now, making her take its length fully.
“K–Keep doing that, Zuha. Keep fucking doing that.”
With encouragement, she then pushes herself fully onto your cock. You are now inside her mouth, and the image is nothing short of phenomenal. Saliva is leaking out of her. Her eyes are blinking rapidly. Tears are running down her cheeks. She’s making unintelligible sounds around your cock, choking on it, sputtering on it. It’s a cacophony. She’s submitting herself to you, and you’re loving every second of it.
“So eager to please, don’t you?” you have to ask. Your hands land on the back of her head softly.
She only let out a hum as a reply. Her mouth is too full of your cock to say anything. It’s huge for her. She’s cock-drunk now.
Finally catching the wind of your dominance over her, you sneer, “Never know that you’re quite a slut, Zuha.” You grip her by the hair, slowly pulling her off your thick cock. She chokes and sputters on the way out. God, what a sight.
As her mouth leaves your cock, you finally get to see her face fully. Black streaks run down from her eyes. Her lips are swollen. She’s drooling. 
“What a cockslut,” you utter, still holding onto her hair. A smile forms on her face. She’s fucking happy to be dominated like this.
“Anything for you, boss. You promised me a solo~” she says sultrily (and drunkenly from your cock), giving the tip of your length a lick as she finishes her words. Your body shudders.
“G–God, Zuha,”
Without another word, she dives onto your glistened dick again, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her teeth graze your cock slightly, though.
“Sh–Shit, your teeth, Zuha, y–your teeth.”
She quickly complies, covering her hard teeth with her lips. She’s fucking you with her mouth properly again. She bobs her head up and down slowly, trying to catch the rhythm. Pleasure shoots through you like a bullet. And with the way she’s looking up at you so damn submissively, you swear you can cum right here and now.
She starts to find her tempo, quickening her strokes. She’s going up and down your cock faster. Her hands find themselves on your exposed thighs. Fuck, they’re cold from the air conditioners, and it makes your body tremble in the sensation.
The wet sound of her sucking your cock echoes through the room. Your hands, again, find themselves on the back of her head, pushing her into your cock relentlessly. Your fingers run through her soft hair, feeling her silk.
“Fuck, s–such a willing slut for your boss, don’t you?”
Kazuha only lets out a low groan affirmatively. She’s still aiming to pleasure her boss. Her career is at stake, after all, and you’re rejoicing in the way her mouth moves up and down your cock like this.
And you can feel it, the inevitable. It’s building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her warm mouth. You can’t resist it anymore.
“Z–Zuha, gonna cum.”
She only makes muffled sounds into your cock, too busy sucking your length to say anything, and you’re so damn happy that she’s willing to go this far for you.
“Take all of it, alright? Be a good girl for me,” you groan out. Your mind is so lost in the pleasure Kazuha is giving you.
She can only nod, still bobbing her head without any care. She’s giving you a damn good blowjob, and you start to lose control of yourself.
You’re close. Your muscles grow more tense. Your cock twitches inside her mouth. Your grip on her head becomes harsher and harsher, determined to make her take all of your hardness.
“Gonna–Gonna cum.”
You break. You push Kazuha onto your cock harshly, making her nose hit your pubic bone. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of semen into her mouth, emptying your balls inside her. She’s damn eager to take it all. She’s gripping onto your thighs tightly. Your scent is filling up her nostrils, making her eyes flutter in unbridled lust. Gagging sounds come out of her mouth.
“Goddamn–fuck!”
Your vision turns white. Your cock twitches violently inside her mouth. Cum is leaking out of your tip into her warm cavern. You’re painting the insides of her mouth white. You’re damn ecstatic. What a fucking ride that is.
Successive spurts grow softer, from shots into drizzles. Kazuha is still determined to take it all. Her hands snake up to squeeze your tight ass, pressing you forward to bury yourself further in her mouth.
“F–Fuck, Zuha.”
She smiles, before finally pulling herself off of your cock. She takes a small gulp, signaling that cum is going down her slutty throat. You watch in awe. She then opens her mouth, tongue hanging open, no trace of cum left inside. Fuck, she drank all of you.
“What’s next, boss?” she asks, wiping the remnants of cum off her face. Her face is a mess, but she’s ready for another round.
Not you, though.
“Wait a sec.” You then sit on the wooden floor, looking into the mirror. Kazuha rests beside you.
“Gotta wait for this little guy to be ready again, huh?” she asks, touching your now-flaccid cock.
“We can talk.”
She then rests her head on your shoulder, faint black streaks can be seen on her face. You can feel her body warmth emanating onto you.
“So.”
“So?” you ask.
“So, I have a question for you,” says Kazuha. Her voice is weak, clearly tired from the oral action she gave you. You two make eye contact in the reflection.
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you decide to become our manager?”
“Well–” you pause, trying to recollect the complete picture. You just keep forgetting it “–I kind of wanted to become an idol, you know?”
She lets out a soft chuckle. “But?”
You can’t help but to laugh along with her. “Yeah, my body isn’t really up for the task.” You then pat your out-of-shape tummy softly on your shirt.
“I’d like to be remembered, just like you,” you continue, sighing along the way. “To live among the stars, all that stuff.”
It starts to pour out now, your story. Despite the earlier dominance, you feel vulnerable with her. You’re showing your heart to one of your employees.
Kazuha laughs again. “It’s not all confetti and flowers, boss.”
“I know, I know,” you say, somewhat understanding her life after a few years of observation from afar. “All of you have gone through a lot, and I’ll forever admire you guys for that.”
“Thanks, boss,” she replies. Her hand moves down to play with your cock again. “Still not there, huh?”
A chuckle leaves your mouth. “It’ll take some time, Zuha.”
“Ask me something, then,” she says. 
You let the silence hang in the air, trying to think of a question. It’s difficult, especially when you’re naked down from your waist like this.
You were about to ask her the same question she had asked you, but you’ve asked her that already. She loves Blackpink, hence her idol aspirations. She's an INFP, used to be an INTP. Her eyesight gets worse with time. What’s left to be asked?
“You know, I was so scared when that interviewer asked me about my type,” she says, her hands caressing your body. Your mind is brought to that interview, the one she–
“I was so afraid that the fans would reject me just because I said ‘men or women’.”
You can only sigh.
“It seemed like they didn’t, Zuha,” you shoot her a smile, holding her hand gently, as if you didn’t fuck her throat senseless mere minutes ago. “Don’t give much fuck about those people.”
She lets out a giggle. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
The conversation goes on for a few more minutes. At first, it was simply a time killer, waiting for your soft cock to get hard again. But as it flows, you feel like you get to know Kazuha more and more.
Slowly, your arousal returns, and Kazuha seems to notice that. It twitches in the expectation of another round.
“Oh, look at him~” she says softly. Her hand is drawn to touching you gently. You can’t help but giggle as she caresses your hard cock.
“Stand up, Zuha,” you command. You’re trying to sound stern, but the exchange earlier just softens your voice.
She complies immediately. Her toned legs are displayed elegantly in front of you. You stand up with her, taking the full view of her body on the way.
What a banger body.
“What’s next, boss?” Her words seem to want you to get this over with, but the small smile plastered on her face seems to say otherwise.
You pause, thinking for some witty response as you unbutton your shirt, revealing your out-of-shape body. You clearly have been eating too much. It’s a bit embarrassing.
What’s next?
“I want your bra off, Zuha.” Well, that’s far from witty.
“Thought you’d never ask that,” Kazuha playfully scoffs before taking off her tight sports bra. Her small breasts come into view, along with the taut nipples proudly sitting atop of them. She can’t wait for what’s next, so do you. The bra is then thrown away onto the floor. Her naked body stands proudly in front of you.
She’s nothing short of unreal—the pert breasts, the firm abs, the glistened pussy. She’s sculpted by a deity. And without a word, you push Kazuha onto the mirror, drawing out an airy moan from her. You press your body against hers, while her back is pressed against the wall.
She sucks a sudden. Her hands are trembling against the mirror. Her eyes are closed, enamored in the expectations of you inside of her cunt.
“F–Fuck, boss.”
“I know, Zuha. Now if you’d bend over for me.”
She quickly follows your orders, flipping her body around so that her back faces you. Your cock is pressed against her ass. You let out a hum in satisfaction.
You draw a line with your finger down her spine, making her suck in the air. Sweat from the earlier activity still lingers on her back. Her body quivers in pleasure. She’s submitting to you now.
“Goddd~” Kazuha groans. She’s at the mercy of your touch.
Your finger runs down the middle of her back, down her sculpted arch, to the ridge of her tight ass. She screams, as your finger makes contact with the outer of her puckered hole.
“Fuck!” Her whole body shakes erratically, overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re giving her. Her breathing grows restless.
“Slut,” you whisper the demeaning word into her ear. You’d argue that it fit her, with her being a whimpering mess under your touch.
You circle your finger around her asshole, heightening her moans. You feel the creased patch of skin on your finger, letting out a satisfied hum, but that’s not your main course. You then draw your finger down, touching her wet heat. Kazuha sucks a sudden, before you push your finger into her. 
Her cunt welcomes you easily. You swear that the wail coming out of her mouth is one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard. You watch her face become contorted in the mirror. She’s lost in the bliss you’re giving her.
You slowly push yourself into her pussy, burying yourself in the wet heat. Kazuha’s body shakes with pleasure. You insert your whole finger into her, before touching a rough patch inside her.
That’s where you make her collapse.
You curl your finger to touch her sensitive spot, and as expected, Kazuha lets out a sharp, sudden moan. Her legs are barely holding her up. She’s faltering, and you’re enjoying every second of it.
“F–Fuckkk~”
You double your efforts, stimulating where she needs the most. Your finger is engulfed by her tight, wet heat. She feels warm. You’re loving the way she feels around you. You’re loving the way she submits to you. You’re loving the way she fucking keens from your finger inside her. Fuck, you need even more.
You quicken the pace, and it is making her quiver uncontrollably. How she’s shuddering around you, how she moans. It’s just unreal for you. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You couldn’t have found a better woman in your life who you’d find as angelic as Nakamura Kazuha.
“Goddamn it, Kazuha. You’re doing so fucking well for me,” you say, playing with her inner walls recklessly. She’s shaking under you. The sound of it is spurring you on. The smell of it is making you go feral. The sight of it is making you feel the power you’ve never felt before in your life.
“G–Gonna c–cum, boss,” she utters, mustering up any energy left to say it. Her eyes are rolling upwards now.
Then, you regretfully withdraw your finger out of her. The engulfing wet heat is now missing from your fingers. She groans in disappointment.
“What the fuck?” Her expression is on the line of anger.
You smirk at her through the reflection, sucking your finger lewdly. She’s salty. Still, that doesn’t seem to lighten up her mood.
“Goddamn it, you’re fucking insufferable,” she sneers, still pissed off by your sudden absence. You have other plans, at least.
“Stand still for me, please,” you say with unwavering calmness, getting a hold of her waist. You’re fucking her properly.
Her expression changes, realizing your next action. “Oh,” she utters.
And for the first time, you plunge yourself into her, feeling the way her tight, wet cunt hugs your cock. It feels so fucking ecstatic. The sensation pierces through your entire body like a spear. She keens loudly, and so do you. It echoes around the room that’s yours.
“Fucking hell–” you give her ass a harsh spank, she wails in the concoction of pain and pleasure “–you’re so fucking tight, Zuha.”
“Th–Thanks, boss,” she replies, as you slowly push your hardness inside her to the hilt. “Y–You’re big too.”
You chuckle, and you swear that it’s the most wicked laugh you’ve ever let out. Your thighs press against her ass, before you drag your hips back. Her tightness around you is making your cock throb, and you thrust back into her cunt. You grunt loudly, and so does she.
“Nghhh~” Kazuha groans, as you find your rhythm in plowing her pussy. You start fucking her properly this time with your cock, pounding into her with no abandon. She feels so good around you.
No words can describe the feeling of fucking Kazuha’s cunt. It’s something beyond your comprehension—the tightness of her alone, the power you’re holding over her, the sounds of her guttural grunts and groans and moans and whimpers. It’s just nothing short of unreal.
“D–Don’t you dare–ah–fucking pull out th–this time, boss,” she commands, trying to sound as stern as possible. Though, it comes out weakly, just like her limp body right now.
“What if I do, huh?” And you give her ass another loud spank. She whimpers. Her resolve falters. Her posture almost collapses.
“Hgngnn.” She can only let out a whimper as you kiss the vanilla skin of her neck. She’s salty from the sweat lingering on her body. Her scent pervades your nose violently. You swear that she’s like an aphrodisiac to you. It’s driving you feral. Her skin shines under the room's light beautifully, and you only wish you can just stay with her like this forever.
“B–Boss,” she mewls, her voice weak and lost.
“Yes, Zuha?” You’re still ramming into her with reckless abandon. Her tight cunt hugs your length perfectly, coaxing the cum out of your balls.
“Gonna–Gonna cum.”
You say nothing but upping your ante, pressing her harder into the mirror. Her tits are splayed on the wall. Her walls contract for you, drawing breathless moans out of your lips. Both of your mouths hang open in bliss. You both want this.
“Cum for me, Zuha, but don’t think this is over yet.” You give her rear another slap. The skin clashes against your hand. She wails, as you lean in for a whisper, “There’s another hole to be filled.”
“Hhgnn,” she grunts under the weight of your promise. Her arms go limp, both hanging just beside her pliant body. Her mind is filled with nothing but your cock inside her pussy.
And she cums for the second time today. Her walls contract around your cock, gripping you like a vice. She lets out a guttural groan from the depth of her lungs. Her right cheek is pressed against the mirror, painting it with her slick sweat.
“Fuck! Goddd~” she shouts loudly from the force of her violent orgasm. You relentlessly fuck her through the forceful orgasm, pulling groans and grunts out of her as much as possible.
Her orgasm subsides, leaving her shaking body as the evidence of it. Her pussy is still contracting around your cock. You slow down, and the other plan comes into play.
You pull your hard length out of her cunt. You’re all glistening in her juice now. It’s strange. You usually cum a lot faster than this. Though, with Kazuha, it’s like you can just go on and on forever.
You insert your fingers inside her pussy, making her entire body tremble in shock once more. You’re trying to gather her slick juice to smear your cock with any lubricant you can find. Your bottle is too far away from you right now (about fifteen floors away, under your table). The wetness of her cunt is really helping you here.
“What a slut,” you sneer at her, as she whimpers in response to the degrading name. “Look at you, all wet for me.”
“P–Please, boss,” she pleads, her voice shaken with unrelenting desire. Her body is trembling with unbridled anticipation.
“Please what, Zuha?”
“Please f–fuck my ass, I–I need it,” she whines, and you couldn’t be happier to fulfill her wish.
You rest your tip at the entrance of her ass—teasing, playing with her. She whines at the act, as if she really wants your cock inside her ass so fucking bad (she does). Your cock in all glistened in her slick juice, ready to fuck her rear hole raw.
And slowly, and carefully, you push your cock into her tightness, inch by inch. Her body trembles as you find yourself inside her once more. She cries out in bliss. The lubricant definitely helps.
“F–Fuck, nghhh.”
You respond to her moans by pushing ever further into her ass. Your body presses onto her more and more, feeling her damp back, gathering her sweat on your body. The warmth around your cock is just too much. She grips you like a vice. 
“Goddamn it, Zuha. Is this your first time in the ass?” you grunt. Your voice is raspy.
“Nghhh, n–no, boss. This is my second time, b–but I–I’ve never cum from that,” she whines. Her hands are pressed against the mirror harshly. You’ll have to be more gentle if you don’t want to break this expensive reflective wall.
You keep pushing and pushing, and finally, you are buried deep up to the hilt. The tightness of her ass is just unreal. A loud moan escapes your lips. Fuck, she’s tight, too tight.
You stay inside the depth of her ass for a few more seconds, feeling yourself inside of her tight ass. You’re hoping that she’s at least enjoying this a little bit.
She does, after all, moaning and writhing like that.
“You love this, don’t you, Zuha? You love having my cock inside your ass like this,” you taunt her, rewarding you with breathless whimpers and moans out of her lips.
“I–I love it, b–boss,” she answers, stuttered and shaken. The sensation is just too much for her. Your hands snake up her body to her small breast, a pair that’s unforgettable for you. You decide to give her nipples some soft treatment with your filthy hands, rubbing them between your fingers.
“Look at you, your nipples are all hard for me.” You run the sides of your fingers up and down her nipples, feeling them between your digits. She lets out guttural grunts and groans in pleasure. “What a goddamn slut.”
“Nghhn.”
After what feels like an eternity inside her ass—so warm, so tight—you draw your hips backwards. Her walls are grazing your cock, making the retreat so damn ecstatic. You pull back until half of your cock is out of her puckered hole, before pushing yourself back in. You let out primal moans with it.
“God, fuck!”
Her ass feels so tight, so right.
You start to find your pace in ravaging Kazuha’s ass. You set the rhythm in fucking her properly. The room reeks of sex, no matter how big it is. The only thing filling your nostrils right now is the smell of Kazuha’s sweat and something that screams her.
Your hands are still kneading Kazuha’s small breasts enthusiastically. Touching them fills you with unbridled joy. They feel so–soft, so–firm in your hands, as you plow into her ass with no abandon.
“Fucking love these tits, Zuha,” you utter. The words come out before you can suppress it. Your mind is filled with the sensation of fucking her ass and groping her tits. “So–soft, so–small.”
“Nghhh, th–thanks, boss,” she cries out, her voice feeling like she’s unable to make sense of what’s going on anymore. It’s just too overwhelming for her. Your cock inside her ass, your hands on her breasts, your smell, your grunts. It’s too much she might have hit the third peak of the day.
Her eyes flutter in bliss—that’s what you see in the mirror. She keens, and you love the way she does it. Her voice reeks of complete submission for you. Her smell is driving you insane. It’s making your grunts more raw, more primal, more animalistic.
You reach out to grab her face. You’re trying not to make it harsh. You don’t want to hurt her. Her moans are interrupted with a gasp. She’s shocked at the sudden contact on her face. She definitely is.
You move in for a kiss.
It’s sloppy, unrefined. There’s no tenderness in it, no romance, no lovey-dovey bullshit. Your hands are still freely groping Kazuha's breasts like they’re yours (they’re yours). Your tongue invades her mouth, gathering her taste. She’s definitely salty—all the sweat and such.
She finally catches the tempo of the kiss, finally holding on her own. Your tongues are now intertwined in a battle for dominance, trying to taste each other as much as possible. The sound of kissing rings inside your head. It’s far from romantic. It’s sloppy. It’s primal. It’s raw.
“Mmmph, fuck,” she utters as you’re still ramming into her ass. Occasional moans into your mouth can be heard. She finds pleasure in it, and you’re happy that she does.
And you pull back. A string of saliva is still connecting your mouths together. It’s vulgar. It’s obscene. That fits. You rest your forehead on Kazuha’s. It feels so intimate. You’re so close to her. You can feel the warmth emanating from her, see her sweat running down, see her pores, and you can only think to yourself: fuck, she really is an angel.
“I’ll get that solo for you, Zuha,” you say, forehead touching hers. Your mouth feels empty without her tongue. It feels great having her inside your mouth.
“B–Better keep th–that promise, boss,” she replies, voice barely holding itself together.  “I’ll fucking join aespa if it’s an empty one.”
You let out a chuckle. She definitely won’t do it, but it’s not like you’re flippant. 
“Sure. It’d be suck to lose another member,” you answer her with a smile. You’re trying to make it as sincere as you can.
You keep pounding into her ass, chasing both of your orgasms. Your hands roam down back to her small, slutty waist. Her breathing grows frantic. You can see the goosebumps on her arms. She’s close. She’s close.
“F–Fuck, a–again, gonna cum again,” she rasps. Her voice is barely holding itself together. Her walls contract around your cock.
Her dam breaks. Her nectar leaks out of her cunt onto the floor. Some of it spills onto your cock, some spill onto your feet. She lets out a primal grunt, spurring you on to fuck her ass with‌ even more roughness. You plow her puckered hole through her orgasm. She’s sensitive, but you don’t fucking care. You couldn’t care any fucking less. You have to cum inside Nakamura Kazuha’s ass.
You buck your hips into Kazuha with reckless abandon. Fuck the other women if they’re going to hear this. You’re more than willing to let them know who owns this angel. It’s you. It’s you. Your hands roam over every curve and contour of her body, feeling her smooth skin on your hand. You know it’s hyperbolic, but she’s nothing short of perfection.
Her moans remain guttural and raw. They’re echoing through this practice room, and you’re damn sure that no sounds can be as ethereal as that. Her body, god, her body, you are going to keep dreaming about it forever. Her ass feels utterly divine. She wraps your cock in a way that’s so damn flawless, and it’s like she was made for your cock and your cock only.
You can feel it. The rising current inside you. It runs through your body. It’s electric. It’s going to burst. You’re going to cum inside your employee’s ass, and you couldn’t have found any better situation to be in.
“Here’s what I’m going to do, Zuha,” you order. Your voice couldn’t be stronger than this. Your grips on her waist tighten. “I’m going to fucking cum inside your ass, and you’re going to take it like a good girl you are, alright?”
“Nghhngn, y–yes, boss,” she groans, her voice breaking into pieces. She’s broken already.
It’s there, that familiar feeling inside your loins. You quicken and quicken your pace, pounding into Kazuha’s ass with an unmatched aggression. Your cock is throbbing inside her, so ready to explode. Your breathing is erratic. It’s all culminating in this. You’re going to cum.
“Gonna–Gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her as fast as you can. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.
“Fuck!”
You lose yourself for the second time of the day, this time inside Nakamura Kazuha’s ass. You can see stars. White spurts paint the inner walls of her. Your body convulses, shaking in bliss. You grunt loudly. Your cock twitches inside her rear hole. The way she keens rings inside your ear as she feels the cum paint her walls. Fuck.
Your cock keeps shooting ropes and ropes of cum into her ass. It feels utterly divine, the way her ass hugs your cock so damn tightly. You press Kazuha against the wall, trapping her in your embrace, forcing her to take all of your cum. She screams in pure pleasure. 
“Fuck,” you groan, as you slowly come down from the earth-shattering orgasm you just had. Both of you are panting in exhaustion. It was tiring. It was mind-breaking.
You drag your spent cock out of her tight ass. Both of you groan in oversensitivity. Cum slowly leaks out of her ass. You’re all limp, and so is she.
Kazuha still can’t seem to catch her breath. She turns around to face you, face all flushed, mouth hanging open before slowly retreating onto the floor. She’s exhausted, and so are you.
You look down to face her. Your hands are resting on the wall, trying to hold you up with all the forces they have left. Your cock is all sore from the act, and you’re going to need a good sleep after this.
“God,” she utters, smiling. “That was–that was fun, huh?”
“Y–Yeah, that was fun,” you reply with a chuckle. The mood lightens up. The lust earlier is now replaced by comfort. You feel the air thinning. It’s not as tense as before.
You sit down next to Kazuha, head resting on the mirror. The trace of her body can be seen on the wall. It’s imprinted, dirty. You don’t really care. Let the staff see it.
You look around the room, trying to cool down from the debauchery, before Kazuha rests her head on your shoulder. You feel the unfamiliar warmth from her head. It’s–comforting.
“Promise me you’ll get me that solo.” She brings up her pinky finger.
It wasn’t supposed to be much more than a currency. Robotic. Mechanical. Transactional. Though, as you experience through it, you somehow find retreat in it. The act, even if as rough as it was, brings out the side you’ve never seen in her, and something you thought you’d never shown to anyone else. It’s weirdly comforting to you. And maybe, just maybe, the two of you might look forward to another encounter where you fuck her brainless again, and you might learn a few more things about her, and she’d share more of her with you, being each other’s solace against the world.
“I promise.”
801 notes · View notes
headkiss · 3 days ago
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it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.
word count: 7.4k
content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!
a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3
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Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.
What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.
Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.
Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.
He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.
You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.
And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.
So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.
Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”
He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”
“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”
Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.
“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”
“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.
“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”
Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.
As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)
“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”
You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.
You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”
Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.
“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.
“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.
“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.
“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”
Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.
He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.
Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.
-
1.
That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.
As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.
Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.
“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.
You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”
He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.
Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.
Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”
It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.
You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.
You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.
Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.
“What are you planning, Harrington?”
He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”
Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.
“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”
He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.
Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.
He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.
When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.
There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.
He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.
Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”
“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”
“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”
Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.
You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”
He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.
“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”
So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.
Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.
You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.
When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.
Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.
Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.
As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.
Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.
“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.
Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.
Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.
“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.
And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.
It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.
Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.
-
2.
You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.
In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.
The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.
Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.
You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.
Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.
On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.
You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”
“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”
“It snowed!”
“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.
“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”
“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”
“Steve.”
“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”
His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.
Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.
It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”
So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.
The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.
There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.
You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.
“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”
“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.
“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”
And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.
Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.
At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.
It hits you square in the face.
A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.
“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”
Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.
“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.
“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”
“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”
“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”
“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”
His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.
“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.
Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”
“Buzzkill,” you tease.
He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.
“Steve!” you laugh.
“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.
You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.
Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’
Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.
Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.
Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.
-
3.
The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.
You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.
He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.
“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”
He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.
“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.
Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.
As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.
Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”
“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”
“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”
You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.
“Thank you for this,” you say.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”
“What? You, not good at something? Please.”
“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”
You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”
Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.
You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.
He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”
“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”
“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”
“Dork.”
“That’s prince dork to you.”
Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.
On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?
So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.
Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.
However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.
It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.
He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.
“You okay, honey?” he asks you.
“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”
He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”
“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”
“No, no. I’m good.”
“Steve.”
“Baby.”
“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”
Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.
When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.
Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.
Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”
“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.
It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.
He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.
You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.
Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.
You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.
He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.
Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.
You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.
“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”
His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.
You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.
“Best painkiller ever,” he says.
-
4.
Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.
His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.
Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.
He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.
So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.
His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.
In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.
The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.
Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.
He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”
Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”
“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”
He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”
You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”
“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.
“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”
“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.
You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.
“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”
“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”
“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”
“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.
You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.
When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.
“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.
“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”
“I thought I was in charge.”
Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.
You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.
Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?
So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.
It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.
The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.
He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.
The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.
“Steve?” you say against his mouth.
“Uh-huh?” he breathes.
“Do you smell that?”
He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.
“Fuck,” he groans.
You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.
Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.
Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.
He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.
You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”
“I just- I messed it up again.”
“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”
He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.
“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”
You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.
“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”
“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”
You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.
-
+1
Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.
He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.
He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.
Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.
There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.
“Honey?”
“Yup, it’s me!”
You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.
While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.
He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.
There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.
“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.
“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”
“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”
You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”
His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”
“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.
And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.
“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”
“‘Kay, Stevie.”
You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.
Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.
Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.
He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.
“You go first,” you tell him.
“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”
That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.
You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.
“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”
“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Perfect.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”
“I never let you carry anything, honey.”
“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”
You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.
Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.
Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.
“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.
“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”
“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.
The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.
Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.
He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”
“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”
He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.
“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”
He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.
“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”
“Yeah, well, I meant it.”
“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”
“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”
“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.
“Steve.”
”Okay, okay.”
He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.
“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”
He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.
“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.
Steve’s done keeping score.
Perfect Christmas. That’s it.
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thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3
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cherrygirlfriend · 3 days ago
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is it new years yet? pairing: reader x neighbor!rafe synopsis: seeing your old neighbor on christmas during your break leads to you going down memory lane - and into each other's pants. warnings: smut, spit play, degradation, piv, unprotected sex, MDNI wc: 2.4k inspired by 'is it new years yet?' by sabrina carpenter and me being the only one single in my family during christmas. fun fact; i wrote half of this while celebrating christmas with my family and the other half on my way home. enjoy!
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everything in life comes with pros and cons; the same applies to being the youngest in your family.
your two sisters and your brother all came to christmas with their significant others; you came with the hangover you were nursing from going out for drinks with some of your high school friends.
your oldest sister just had her first child. your other sister had just gotten married, and your brother brought his girlfriend of two years, that he was planning on proposing to.
you? the closest thing you'd come to something even resembling a relationship was a fling with a guy who ended up ghosting you after telling you he loved you. and although your new nephew was adorable, everyone around you being in relationships made you feel utterly alone.
as mariah carey's 'all i want for christmas is you' played in the speakers for the fifth time that night and you were served another slice of the mediocre fruitcake, you felt like taking the knife set down in front of you and making your eye socket it's new home, the urge only worsened by the words your eldest sister uttered.
"so, do you have a boyfriend?" she asked in a sing-songy voice, looking at you with an inquisitive look on her face, and you knew the comment was meant to be goodhearted, but all it managed to do was make you irritated; your relatives always knew what to say to piss you off.
you swallowed the remaining food in your mouth, "nope."
"what do you mean? you're gorgeous. there's gotta be someone who's into you!" your other sister exclaimed, rubbing salt in the wound. all you wanted was to forget that you were the only one at home with no one to hold. you just wished it was new years already.
your family didn't even notice when you slipped away from them to the patio that wrapped around your large house, hanging your head and your upper body over the railing, your hair dangling in the air as you let out a long breath that you'd held the entire time you'd spent in your family's company, feeling the blood rush to your head as you stared at your legs through the wide holes in the railing.
"you know that could kill you, right?"
you heard a smug voice say, one that was eerily familiar, and your suspicions over who it belonged to were confirmed when you lifted yourself up, your hair flipping and your eyes landing on none other than rafe cameron.
rafe cameron. a name that you never wished to even have to think about, a face you never wanted to have to look at. he had been your neighbor your entire life up until you moved for college, and he'd always enjoyed making your life hell.
"for that, i'm pretty sure i'd have to hang here for longer than fifteen seconds, but thanks for the unwanted medical advice, cameron. why are you creeping around our backyard?"
"aw, you didn't miss me?" he said with feigned sympathy as he slowly ascended the steps leading onto the porch, a small pout on his face.
"what's there to miss? you being a dick?"
rafe tutted, looking at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, "see, the last time things were about my dick, you didn't seem that hostile."
...oh.
"that was a mistake." you said, trying your best not to make your voice shake, rolling your shoulders back and straightening your spine to try and seem confident, but he simply chuckled.
"you seem to make a lot of mistakes."
as he said those words, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to all the times you'd let him pin you against the wall of a small, skeevy janitor's closet that smelled of clorox and your mingling hormones, or the way he'd made you plead and beg before he'd let you come undone, coating his fingers in your creamy liquids.
but it felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over your head when those memories blended with ones where he'd said such cruel words about you, and then saying the same things in private, in such a different way.
"god, you're such a slut." he'd scoff, shaking his head as he looked from topper to kelce, both boys laughing at his words.
"god, you're such a slut..." he'd whisper against your skin as his long digits hit the spongy spot deep inside you, "such a good little slut f'me..."
you cleared your throat, your hand traveling to fiddle with the pearl earring in your ear, rolling it around between your thumb and your forefinger to try and not to focus on the way you had to shift from one foot to another, not wanting the wetness that was beginning to gather between your legs to stick your panties to your pussy. "what are you doing here, cameron?"
"i heard you were back in town. wanted to come see you."
his words made you roll your eyes, "last time i checked, we weren't exactly friends, cameron."
your eyes widened when his hand slid behind your back and he pulled your body flush to his, your heart hammering against your chest like someone was doing renovation inside your body. you didn't want to have these reactions for the man, but your body was betraying you.
"and last time i checked, the nickname you liked to use for me wasn't cameron."
"i'm never using that name for you again." you said, trying not to let your voice waver, to stay strong in what you knew to be the best thing for you to do, to not show how much you wanted him to ruin you in the way you hadn't been ruined in so long.
"i bet i could make you." rafe's lips were so close to yours that you could feel the breaths he let out as he whispered those words.
"bet you-"
before you could finish your sentence, the hot lips you used to know so well were once again on yours, and just like all those times, you gave into it, gave into him way too easily, your lips parting almost automatically to allow rafe's tongue into your mouth.
rafe pushed you against the wall, his hand creeping down from your waist to under the hem of your skirt, his fingers traveling up your thigh painfully slowly, your body so attuned to his it's like you can feel every small ridge, as well as the bones and veins of his fingers. he always loved taking his time, loved making you suffer, loved making you feel like you were going to explode if you didn't have him right at that moment.
"i've missed this so much..." rafe mumbled as his lips moved from your lips, slowly meeting your neck, the small nips he left behind causing your breath to hitch, his other hand groping your tit through your bra, and it reminded you of all the times he'd treat you like shit in front of others, only to pull you into a dark corner and manhandle you, and how much you loved it.
you arched into rafe's touch as his fingers teased the edge of your panties, and when his fingers only brushed against the wet spot in your panties, you let out a small whine, and you knew he was thriving from how easy it was for him to make you come undone.
"tell me you want me..." he mumbled against your neck as his hand started circling your clit through your panties, making them cling to your panties.
it was the last thing you wanted to say; but your vocal chords disagreed with you. it was like the warm feeling in your stomach was controlling everything you did, everything you felt, everything you thought.
"i want you..." you managed to breathe out, the man adding pressure onto his finger as he continued rolling your clit.
"say it."
"i wa-"
"not that." rafe delivered a sharp smack to your pussy and you gasped at the small squelching noise it'd caused, "call me what you used to call me."
"rafe..."
he brought the same hand that had slapped your pussy, and slapped your cheek, making you wince. it wasn't hard, but rafe always knew how to push your buttons. rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him.
"say it."
"s-sir..." you whispered, your cheeks burning with shame, and you were overtaken with thoughts of all the things he had done to get you to call you that, but rafes lips twisted into a wicked grin.
"awww, such a good little slut." he cooed mockingly, "open your mouth." hesitantly, you opened your mouth further, rafe gathering some saliva onto his lips before he spit it into your mouth, enjoying the look of pure humiliation on your face as he watched you swallow it. "pull up your skirt."
you pulled up your skirt, your face still burning hot from humiliation as you looked up, wanting to look anywhere but at him, feeling rafe's long fingers on the waistband of your panties, the fabric starting to detach from your folds, rafe's breathing getting heavier.
you were attacked by sensations when rafe's lips ravenously attached themselves to your cunt, your head throwing back in pleasure as he basically made out with your sopping wet folds, your hand going to his buzzcut, reminding you of the way you used to grip onto the douchey haircut he used to have, on a boy who didn't look quite as defined as the man currently devouring you.
when you felt his tongue circling your entrance, dipping in and out of you teasingly, your walls started clenching around nothing, the world around you might as well have disappeared and turned into heaven. rafe detached himself from your pussy, and as you looked down at him drowsily, rafe's pupils were dilated, his lips covered in your arousal, the man looking like he'd gotten drunk just from tasting you.
"i missed my girl..." rafe murmured, pressing gentle kisses on your pussy, "she still gets so fucking wet f'me... she probably misses my cock so bad... you probably haven't found anyone who fills my princess up like i do, have you?"
"n-no..." you stuttered, making rafe tsk.
"that won't work. she gotta remember who her daddy is."
rafe lifted you up by the back of your thighs, causing you to let out a small squeal as your arms flew to hold on to the back of his neck, only for him to turn around, taking a few steps and placing you onto the edge of the railing, starting to unbuckle his belt.
"rafe, we're on my patio..."
"so?" he chuckled, his hands on his zipper, "it's not like outside of your house is the most scandalous place where we've had fun, is it?"
your cheeks started warming up when you remembered all the places where rafe had managed to get you to give in to him, where you'd begged for him to touch you in the way only he knew how to.
rafe pulled his trousers down, his cock bulging in his calvin kleins, a small wet spot visible on the white fabric until he tugged his boxers down just enough to free his cock, giving it slow, languid strokes. "tell me how you've much you want me inside of you..."
as you looked down at his cock, your tongue between your teeth, you felt hunger like never before; you couldn't care that you were outside your house and anyone could walk in at any moment, or that rafe was an asshole, the only thing you cared about was the way his cock felt inside you, the way it reached something in you no one else managed to, the thing you'd spent various nights trying to mimic with your rabbit toy, to no avail.
"so bad..." you choke out, and although it was the god-honest truth, it felt like the words were razorblades coming up your throat, only made better by the feeling the tip of rafe's cock rubbing on your clit, the man drawing circles on it like he was creating a masterpiece instead of just teasing the hell out of you. "please..."
he slid his length down your plump folds, making you held your breath as you waited to feel him invade you, only for rafe to stop at your entrance. if you were able to even think at that moment, you would've simply pulled him closer to you, but with rafe, he always held all the cards. he knew how to control you.
but the moment you felt only the head of his cock enter you, your vision was blurred. one of rafe's hands moved to grab the flesh of your ass while the other one still held you up. as he starts moving further into you, you let out a mewl that was meant to be his name but ended up being incomprehensible. it was like he was fucking made for you, like his cock was shaped just to fit inside you like a puzzle.
"my baby's still so fuckin' tight..." rafe rasped, and what started as a calm pace turned into him slamming all of himself into you, and if he didn't keep moving inside of you, you could've sworn you died the moment the head of his cock was slammed against your cervix.
"still such a good little slut f'me, hm?"
you rolled your hips against his, every thrust feeling more and more delicious; and like always, you forgot everything. you forgot who you were, where you were, what this was. none of it mattered. nothing, but him.
rafe's thumb moved to circle your clit as he continued rolling his hips into you, timing every slam to your cervix with a roll of your clit, making you ascend. he knew you, and he knew just what to do to make you weak, to make you his.
you tried to tell him you were close, that you were coming, but all that'd leave your lips were incomprehensible moans.
rafe moaned when he felt your walls tightening, pulsing around his cock, a sound so delicious you wished you could've recorded so you could touch yourself to it, yet he continued his movements in you, only now much slower and with much more groaning due to the muscles clenching around him.
"g'na come in you..." rafe mumbled against your shoulder, and you squealed and nearly screamed, when the head of his cock pressed against your cervix mid-orgasm. "f-fuck, you still feel so fucking good..."
he stilled inside of you, pulling your body even closer to his, letting out a groan, and although you couldn't feel it due to the intensity of your orgasm, you knew rafe had just delivered on his promise.
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burnforyou · 3 days ago
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ALL MINE - LUIGI MAGIONE x READER
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!SUMMARY! your ex boyfriend Luigi buys you a drink and the rest is history!! cheating (reader, not luigi), smut!!!, both receive head, face riding (emphasis on the nose) use of the L word, creampie, kinda breeding but not really.
"can i buy you a drink?” a familiar voice asks from behind you.
you turn on the bar stool and you’re met with the face of your ex boyfriend smirking down at you. you instinctively smile at the sight of his face.
“buy away.” he calls the bartender over and orders you your favorite drink. he still remembers.
“what brings you here tonight?” he asks, leaning on the bar. he looks almost ravishing in the deep red lighting.
“just wanted a break from it all,” you sigh, studying the bottles behind the bar.
“what’s bothering you?” he peers down at you but you don't look at him. "hm?"
“just my stupid fucking boyfriend. and school.”
“you’re still with that loser?” the bartender slides your drink in front of you and you immediately take a couple big gulps. you need to be buzzed to be around him without wanting to cry.
“unfortunately.”
“you should leave him.” he whispers in your ear, his breath making your nerves tingle. "does he know you're here tonight?"
"nope," you shrug, still looking down at your drink. luigi swings his arm around your shoulders like he's done a thousand times before, pulling you into his warmth. instantly you forget about your boyfriend and all you can think about is how close you are. how if you turned your head just a few inches, your lips would brush.
"do you know how badly I've missed you?" he says deeply. his eyes burn into your skin and you turn your head to look at him.
"can we go somewhere more private to talk?" you propose. his stomach turns at the thought of being alone with you.
"yeah, good idea. I'll order us an Uber, if that's alright." you nod and turn back to your friend, telling her you're leaving with him.
"you ready?" he asks, holding out his hand for you.
"mmhmm," you nod, putting your hand in his. he helps you off the bar stool and you get an overwhelming sense of Deja Vu. it all feels so familiar, so right, you didn't even know you missed it. he leads you through the crowd, towering over most of the people there.
he led you out into the cold night and you shivered as the sudden wind hit your uncovered skin.
"you don't have a jacket, do you?" he looked at you, his eyes full of concern. you shook your head, your teeth beginning to chatter. you rubbed your arms with your hands, trying to generate any form of heat.
"oh, cm'here," he says, pulling you into him. he wraps his arm around your neck and the other around your waist, sharing his body heat with you. you try to wrap your arms around him, but can't completely just because of how large he truly is. you rest your head on his chest, close your eyes, and breathe.
unfortunately, his very public display of affection, his smell, his size, his height, his kindness... all of it is turning you on. all you wanna do is go home and jump his bones. and you know he's feeling the same way, you can feel his bulge pressing against your stomach. he knows its wrong but he's loving the slight friction he's getting from holding you.
before you know it Luigi has you pressed up against your front door with his thigh in between your legs. your lips move sloppily together in a kiss you've both been craving.
“where’s your little boyfriend at now, hm?” he breaks the kiss to ask, smirking, knowing that he has you all to himself. you push him off you and scoff.
"never bring him up again." you kick your shoes off and walk into your house, feeling his eyes burning into your figure, trying to memorize the shape of your body. he mindlessly follows you like a lost puppy. you suddenly stop on the stairs and whip around to face him.
"we seriously need to talk."
"I'm here to talk." he says, shrugging. you finally lead him to your bedroom and sit on the edge of your bed together. he looks around, noticing all that's different and all that's changed.
"I'm really glad I ran into you tonight," he confesses.
"yeah, me too." he leans in and pecks your lips.
"seriously, I've missed you more than anything. I want to try again, y/n, I want to try us again. I want this to work. I want you." his lips quiver with his confession. "and, when I saw you with him, it broke my heart to watch you be with someone that wasn't me, knowing that I love you more than you'll ever know, more than he ever could.
"I've always wanted you. you're all I've wanted. being with you was all I wanted. and, it didn't work last time, for reasons we both couldn't control. but now, you're here and I have faith we can make it work this time," you say, your hands shaking in his.
"yes, I want this, I want you, so much. you're all I want." he says, practically gasping for air. his arms wrap around you and bring you onto him for a deep kiss. slowly you both peel off your tops, leaving your bare chests touching. but it doesn't feel sexual, it feels intimate. tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of finally being with luigi again. after all this time.
you slide off his lap and get comfortable on your knees below him. he smiles down at you, caressing your face.
you quickly tear his jeans off and sigh in content at the sight of his bulge through his boxers. you kiss the girth before slipping his boxers off too. you admire him completely naked in front of you, his hard cock pulsing, his abs flexing every time his chest rises and falls, his muscular arms holding him up, his pretty face.
he reaches down and grasps onto his own cock, desperately stroking himself slowly in front of you. his hand wraps around the girth so perfectly, you note. you find pleasure in watching him pleasure himself, wishing you were touching him.
“how often do you think of me when you jack off?” you ask, not tearing your eyes away from his cock. he doesn’t answer so you swat his arm away from his throbbing dick.
“please,” he whines at the loss of friction.
“answer my question.”
“every time,” satisfied with his answer, you take his cock in your mouth as deep as you can, “fuck!” he sucks in a breath and grips on the edge of your bed.
he taps your head and you take your lips of his cock reluctantly.
“hey, hey, i need you,” he practically whimpers. he grasps under your arms and effortlessly lifts you off your knees so your standing in front of him, in between his legs.
he brings you into him and kisses your lower stomach. you gently push him back on the bed by his shoulders and he flashes you a perfect smile. you slowly crawl up on him and sit right on his face with no shame. he immediately sticks his tongue in you like the munch he is and he has you gripping his shoulders immediately.
“you taste so good,” he groans on your hole, the vibrations have you moaning his name. he sloppily kisses your pussy and his perfect teeth slightly rubbing on you has you grinding on him. he gropes your ass and forces you to grind on him harder, leaving his whole face wet with your juices.
he continues eating you relentlessly as your legs begin to shake around his head.
“i haven’t cum in so long luigi.”
“he doesn’t make you cum?” he says angrily into your pussy, sucking on you harder than before.
“no,” you moan out, shaking your head.
“you’re so close, i can feel it,” he moans, nudging your clit with his nose.
you suddenly become aware of his perfect nose and start grinding solely on his nose. you feel his nose, wet with your juices, nudging at your hole.
“cum, baby,” he whimpers into you and pinches your clit between his fingers. “cum on my mouth.”
the knot in your stomach finally comes undone all over his face. you gasp and you tilt your head back, struggling to breathe. he licks it all up below you, never stopping. your legs shake around his head.
before you know it, he’s flipping you onto your back, flat against your pillows, and teasing your sensitive hole with his fingers. you reach up and pull his forehead down onto yours, never breaking eye contact as he fucks you with his long fingers. moans fall out of your throat against your will.
“you’re so wet, you like how i take care of you, hm?” he asks, stretching you out. “gotta get your pretty pussy ready f’me, right baby?”
all you can do is nod incoherently.
“you know that we shouldn’t be doing this,” he curls his fingers in you. “but you love it don’t you? dirty, dirty girl.” he laughs, shaking his head.
“please,” you whimper.
“you have to wait until i think you’re ready to take me baby. you know i’ve never been with anyone else? it’s always been you. always. nobody else even compares.” he talks sweetly to you while his fingers are rammed inside of you, stretching you in unimaginable ways.
“you think you’re ready now? you think you’re ready for my cock?” he asks, his forehead pressing harder against yours.
“yes, please,” you whimper when he slips his fingers out of you. he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and licks all your juices off of him, tasting every last drop.
“sweet like honey,” he moans.
he comes back down to kiss you and you can taste yourself on his lips.
"please, please prove it to me, lu. prove it to me that there's no one else.”
"there's never been anyone else. there will never be anyone else. it's always been you, y/n."
he reaches down and aligns his tip with your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. his arms hold him up beside you, caging you in.
“is this okay?” he whispers.
“yes, please luigi,” you moan, digging your nails into his muscular back.
he slips the tip in and you both gasp. he thrusts the rest of the way in and your pussy welcomes him like a long lost lover. he waits momentarily for your pussy to adjust to him, before pulling out. he then bottoms out completely, hitting your cervix on the first thrust. he feels himself filling you up completely and collapses on you.
“oh, i love you,” he moans into your neck, his slight scruff scratching your skin.
you moan in surprise when he thrusts into you again, setting a fast but passionate pace. him non-stop thrusting into you fills the room with the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against his.
you don’t even get a chance to reply to his confession because he’s fucking you so good you can’t do anything but reach for him and moan. your foreheads press together, mixing your sweat with one another. his eyes stare deep into yours, never looking away from your face.
he catches your moans with a sweet and sloppy kiss, mixing his moans with yours.
he presses his hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself deep inside of you. his eyes darken.
“you feel that? how deep i am inside of you?” he groans. “fuck, it’s like you were made for me baby.”
he reaches down and rubs your clit, his other hand running groping your tit. your pussy grips him tighter than he thought was humanly possible.
“you’re close, aren’t you baby?” he groans at how tight you’re gripping him, his cock pulsing inside of you.
he keeps his pace, not once slowing down or stopping. your back arches off the bed and the knot in your stomach starts to let go again.
“cum baby,” he whispers and licks up your neck.
your eyes start to flutter shut and you see red. pleasure completely overcomes you as you grip onto him and grind your hips against his, feeling his cock fill you up. you cant even produce a sound, your mouth just falls open in silence.
he wraps his arms around your waist and without taking his cock out of you, flips so you're flat on top of him and thrusts up into you. you nearly scream at the new sensation in your sensitive pussy.
"I'm gonna cum," he groans, gripping on to your ass.
"cum in me, please, lu, cum in me," you sob in his ear, your pussy burning for him.
"fuck, you want me to claim you, hm?" he groans, his mind wandering to getting you pregnant.
"please," you moan, moving your hips back onto his and meeting each and every one of his thrusts.
"that's a girl," he moans in your ear.
before he can say anything more, he's completely bottoming out and shooting his cum deep in you. you gasp at the sensation of being so full. his orgasm sends you over the edge again, spilling out once again on him.
he grabs the back of your neck and forces you to kiss him sloppily. your whole body shakes on his and his soft cock finally slips out of you.
“i love you,” you finally return his confession. he flashes his bright smile, which makes you smile in return. he pushes you back down on his lips again and speaks through kisses.
“i love you too.”
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MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK
yall... should I write something in this same universe where he fucks you like near your bf/in your house and he makes you be quiet? omg maybe he sneaks in through the window? omg. guys. im not okay.
!TAGS!
@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify
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cameronsprincess · 2 days ago
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ᰔᩚ Day Five of Slutmas// Run, Rudolph, Run — R.C + J.M
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You’ve always fantasized about being chased, hunted and used. Luckily for you, Rafe and JJ help bring the fantasy to life one snowy Christmas night.
CW: smut! 18+ only! CNC, dark!rafe, dark!jj, primal play, slight blood play, use of cuffs, choking, throat fucking, unprotected piv sex.
note: hiii! i just want to first off address, i marked this as consensual non consensual because reader did tell them she wanted this… though i don’t show the backstory of HOW they got here, she wants it even though she doesn’t voice it during this and will be “fighting” them, it’s all apart of her fantasy. secondly, thank you all for reading and supporting slutmas! i’ve had so much fun doing this, and hope to provide for y’all again next year! i hope everyone has had a merry christmas, and happy new year babies! mwah😚❤️
🎄❤️
“Sweetheart! We’re going to find you… Why don’t you just come out and play, huh?”
Rafe’s low voice echos through the silent hallway of his large house, sounding closer than he was moments ago. You press your back against the closet door, trying to steady your breathing, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You wanted them to find you, just not too soon, it would ruin the fantasy, take away the fun of the chase.
The sound of footsteps thump loudly outside the door you’re behind, and you quickly slap your palm over your mouth.
“Where the fuck else could she be, Rafe? Your house is big, but not that fuckin’ big.” JJ says, annoyance lacing his tone.
Rafe slams his palm against the door, making you squeal behind your hand. “Fuck, I don’t kn- Wait… You hear that, Maybank?”
Shit. You gave yourself away.
“Yeah, sounds like it came from your room.”
Your heart rate slows, letting out a slow breath. They didn’t know you were in here. They didn’t…
Your thoughts die. A shrill scream escaping you when the door is ripped open, causing you to fall backward onto your ass, Rafe and JJ’s tall frames standing on either side of you.
A slow smile spreads across their lips, Rafe’s eyebrows rising as he tilts his head to the side. “Hi, sweetheart. Told ya we’d find you.”
Tears begin to fill your eyes, and you scramble backward, pushing yourself further into the closet. Fuck, this wasn’t smart.
You quickly jump to your feet, taking advantage of Rafe stepping further into the closet. You try and rush forward, your shoulder colliding with his firm chest, but it’s no use. He quickly grips at your upper arms, digging his nails into your skin, making you cry out.
Gripping a fistful of your hair, he yanks your head back, forcing your glossy, tear-filled eyes on his. “And where exactly do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart?”
Your lips part, letting out a silent scream as he uses the hold on your hair to pull your body flush into his. He dips his head down, running his nose up the side of your face and inhaling your scent.
“Your fear smells so fuckin’ sweet,” His tongue darts out, licking up the hot tears that spilled down your cheek. “Bet that pussy is soaked, ain’t it, sweetheart? Bet you’ll be so wet and tight when we fuck you… Use you like the fuckin’ slut you are…”
You fight against his hold, pushing your hands against his abdomen, feeling his abs flex underneath your fingers through his thin white t-shirt. He tightens the hold on your hair, his free hand making its way around your waist and holding you tightly against him. You feel his hard cock growing stiffer through the rough denim of his jeans, your clit pulsing with need as your nostrils flare, eyes narrowed into thin slits as you forcefully stare up at Rafe.
“The fight turns me on, baby.” He rasps.
And then he’s yanking you up off your feet, tossing you over his shoulder and exiting the closet. He passes JJ as he steps through the threshold and into the cold, dark hallway of Tannyhill, and you catch a glimpse of the blonde. His eyes match Rafe’s, bright blue, but right now, both of their pupils are blown, their eyes a sea of black as they think of all the things they can do to you.
Rafe walks you down the long hallway— JJ following closely behind, silent as he watches you kick, scream and fight— until he reaches the master bedroom. He kicks open the door, reaching the California King in two steps. He tosses you down onto the mattress, your tits bouncing from the impact of your back hitting the plush mattress.
JJ licks his lips, walking to stand on the other side of the mattress, staring down at you with a hungry look in his eye. He tilts his head to the side, leaning forward and pressing his palms into the mattress, his face mere inches from yours.
“Goddamn, princess. You put up one hell of a fight… Too bad for you, I love that shit. It turns me on.”
He inches closer, his lips ghosting across yours. He presses his lips to yours, but it’s short lived before you’re head butting into his nose. He pulls back, hissing in a breath and letting out unintelligible curses, his right hand cupping his nose.
“Fuck! Why the fuck did you do that?” He hisses, pulling his hand back and seeing it covered in his blood.
“Fuck. You.” You choke out, squeezing your eyes shut and falling back onto the mattress.
JJ is on you before you have time to take a breath, his legs straddling your hips, his left hand wrapped tightly around your throat, squeezing so tight you see stars. He pulls his right hand from his face again, looking at the blood that covers it before a wicked smile stretches across his lips.
“Rafe, help me out and pull this little bitches shirt off, yeah?”
Rafe chuckles, stepping around the mattress. He pulls out a pocket knife, flipping it open and bringing it to the collar of your shirt, cutting it straight down the middle. Your bare breasts come into view, nipples hardening as the cool air hits them.
JJ licks at his lips, pulling his bottom one between his teeth. He takes his right hand, smearing the blood that covers it across your chest, running it across your breasts, covering you in his blood. He groans, scooting himself up to straddle your stomach. He grips your cheeks in his bloody hand, covering your face in his blood as well, forcing your lips to part slightly. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” He rasps, squeezing at your cheeks harder.
JJ pushes off your face, climbing off of your body and roughly tugging your flared leggings down your thighs. He and Rafe share a look when they catch a glimpse of your baby pink lace thong, a small wet spot already forming in the middle.
Rafe begins fumbling with his belt, pulling it through the loops of his khakis and tossing it to the floor, the loud clank of metal hitting the floor has you wincing. JJ works his clothes off as well, both men stripping down to nothing but their boxers. You push up on the mattress, rolling to the side, hoping you can run again, but Rafe quickly grabs at your ankles, pulling you back up the mattress.
He tsks, pursing his lips as he shakes his head like he’s disappointed in you. “Stop trying to fuckin’ run, sweetheart. I promise… You’re gonna love what we give you.”
He snaps his head up, pinning JJ with a stare before he snaps his fingers. “Top drawer of my nightstand, there’s a pair of cuffs. Grab ‘em and cuff her wrists to the headboard, yeah?”
JJ gives a wicked grin, the dried blood covering his nose and upper lip making him look ten times more scary. But also, very fucking hot. He slowly turns, making his way to the nightstand and ripping open the top drawer. The unmistakable sound of metal clanking fills your ears as JJ pulls out the silver cuffs.
He holds them up, his eyebrows raised as he makes his way toward you again. You begin to kick and squirm again, Rafe’s hold on your ankles tightening. Your body thrashes and fights against the mattress, messing up the perfectly made bed. JJ aggressively wraps his hand around your throat again, his fingers digging into your sensitive skin as he squeezes tight.
“Stay fucking still.” He demands, and you swallow thickly.
JJ releases your throat, climbing onto your body once more, straddling your chest as he grips your right hand in his, bringing it up to the metal bars of the headboard, clicking the first cuff in place. He pulls the other cuff through the bars, the metal chain that separates both sides harshly clanging against the bars of the headboard. He finally grabs your left wrist, bringing it up and cuffing you in place.
Pulling back from the bars, he sits back, enjoying the way you pull against the cuffs. Loud screams and curses slip past your lips, falling on deaf ears.
Rafe climbs into the bed, joining you and JJ. You glance over JJ’s shoulder, watching as Rafe tightly grips his thick cock in his hand, stroking himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.
“‘M gonna have so much fun fucking that tight, sweet cunt of yours, sweetheart.”
Your hips buck, arousal pooling in your panties as you imagine Rafe’s fat cock stretching you, brutally pounding into you. Rafe releases his cock, bringing his hand down to your weeping slit, slowly running two fingers through your folds. He hums softly, reveling in the feel of your arousal coating his fingers.
He brings the two fingers to his lips, pushing them into his mouth and sucking your sweet taste off of them, mumbling out a low praise, “Mmm, pussy tastes so sweet.”
He pulls his fingers from his mouth, reaching down to fist his cock again. Your head falls back into the pillows, a small whimper escaping you as Rafe slowly runs the swollen tip of his dick through your folds.
JJ reaches through the slit in his boxers, pulling his own cock free, stroking himself and lightly tapping the head of his dick against your lips. Your lips part slightly, allowing JJ to slowly push the tip inside your mouth, laying his fat tip on your tongue.
JJ smiles, “Open up, pretty girl.”
You do as he says, opening your mouth wide enough to allow him to slip his heavy cock down your throat. He groans when you close your lips around him, your tongue flattening against the vein on the underside of his shaft.
Rafe continues to tease at your entrance, pushing the tip inside before pulling back out. JJ places his hands behind your head, lifting it slightly, giving him enough space to begin fucking himself roughly down your throat. You whimper and gag around JJ, a muffled and choked squeal pulled from your lips when Rafe finally rams himself fully inside, stretching you to the hilt.
Both men begin forcefully thrusting into you, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as they use you.
“Fuck, you’re so wet, sweetheart,” Rafe rasps, slowly pulling his cock out, slamming his hips forward again, pulling a muffled whine from you. “Love the way this pussy feels, squeezin’ my dick so tight.”
JJ’s hips slow, his cock buried deep down your throat. Drool spills past the corners of your lips, and JJ groans when you gag around him, tears spilling from your eyes. “Look so fuckin’ pretty when you’re full of cock, princess. Like a fuckin’ masterpiece.”
You whimper, your legs shaking and mind growing foggy from how full you are. Rafe and JJ both begin thrusting harshly into you again, using your body, nearing their releases. Your pussy clenches around Rafe’s cock, your clit pulsing as your orgasm threatens to burst.
“Mm, feel you squeezin’ ‘round me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, yeah?”
Rafe’s hands grip at your hips, lifting your lower half up off the bed as he quickly pounds inside you, his dick pulsing and swelling. JJ picks up his pace as well, harshly fucking your throat. You yank at your cuffed wrists, the harsh metal digging into your sensitive skin. Both Rafe and JJ laugh at your attempts to get free.
“Stop fighting it, princess. ‘M so close, almost do— shiiit..” JJ rasps.
You feel JJ’s cock twitch in your mouth, a low grunt spilling past his lips as the hot ropes of his cum fill your mouth. He holds your head still, nose firmly pressed against his pelvis as he forces every last drop of cum down your throat. “That’s it.. Swallow my cum, princess.”
Rafe isn’t far behind, his thrusts growing sloppy before he shoves himself deep inside you, a pleasured moan escaping him as he fills your pussy with his cum.
JJ pulls himself from your mouth, rolling off your chest and onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he tries to calm his breathing. Rafe stays buried inside you, his body falling on top of yours, his lips placing soft kisses up the length of your neck.
Your breathing is rough and choppy, your wrists aching from the cuffs. You let out a soft whimper, your head rolling to the side and finding JJ’s eyes. “J… Cuffs..”
He chuckles, rolling onto his side and placing a kiss to your lips before grabbing the key off the top of the nightstand. He quickly undoes your wrists, allowing them to fall down by your sides. You pull them up to your chest, rubbing at the raw and sore skin before letting them fall to your sides again.
Rafe slowly pulls himself from inside you, rolling to lay on the opposite side of you. He and JJ both wrap their arms around you, both nuzzling their faces into your neck. You let out a content sigh, and whispering “Thank you, both. Merry Christmas.” before sleep claims the three of you.
🎄❤️
tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @sarahsangelicdoll @nemesyaaa @rafesbabygirlx @bloodibambiidoll @cameronwillow
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lowkeyren · 2 days ago
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—reject me not!
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in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)
slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3
wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx
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"i think i like you."
the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them. 
blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.
he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.
but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.
"i see."
two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.
(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)
…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!
you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.
it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.
though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.
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“where's [name]?” 
blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.
but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"
he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods. 
with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”
the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"
he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."
kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.
out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.
...
the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.
he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about  “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)
but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?
the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries. 
blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.
later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.
"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.
...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.
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you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.
(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?” 
blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)
running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.
after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.
the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.
he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.
as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.
“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.
“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.
kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one. 
nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).
kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.
a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.
curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light. 
at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you. 
wait a second.
your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.
blade.
your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented. 
apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.
blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.
he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you’re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.
as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.
her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.
you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged. 
“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?” 
before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry. 
“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.
without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from. 
you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.
if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you. 
“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”
you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”
“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.” 
well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway! 
a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.
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blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.
his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.
you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.
“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”
casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.
you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night. 
as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)
this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.
just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?
it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable. 
“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.
he doesn’t want this moment to end. 
you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.
you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"
"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."
a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.
you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.
“goodnight then."
just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.
"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”
his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.
"oh! It's no pro—"
but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.
"—blem..."
your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.
then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.
safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.
you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool. 
(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”) 
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you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”
now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere. 
yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.
“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him.  it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—
you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.
behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.
it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise. 
he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.
would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands? 
“let’s go.”
“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.
he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.
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it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would. 
with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.
(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those…  for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)
you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. 
without a word, he hands the plushie to you. 
you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”
“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.
you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.
“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!
the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.
but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.
his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.
and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.
a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.
though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)
the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."
without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.
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that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest. 
why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.
you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.
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blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.
the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.
you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”
his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”
the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”
“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.
your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.
you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”
“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”
blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.
you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.
but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.
your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!
“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.
you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.
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what a dumbass lmfao
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Please please please bless me with more baby daddy Jason. I’m so obsessed with it 😭 just thought about if he caught you staring a little too long at him being a good father he would make fun of how sexy you find him and how you still want him
Oh, how this has lifted my mood after getting covid during the holiday season🙏I can totally see him getting cocky like that, too. Just imagine this man letting out a near-silent scoff as he catches your gaze wandering across his muscles as he picks up your daughter
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BabyDaddy! Jason Todd Part 2
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BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who doesn't actually bother you too much after that night you spent together. To your surprise, he doesn't expect much of anything in return. That moment simply turned into an unacknowledged secret that only the two of you would ever know about.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who still tries to show up to every little preschool function or birthday party your daughter has, despite the unspoken tension between you two. Despite what that little voice in your mind was screaming to do, you actually started inviting him to those kind of things. Typically, he would've just shown up unannounced.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts acting like your boyfriend or husband at parent-teacher conferences. On the rare occasion that the both of you show up to discuss your daughter with her teachers, they assume that you're together as a couple. Jason, ever the sly bastard, doesn't correct them.
You don't, either.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who actually starts playing into the role as soon as your 'relationship' gets brought up in public. If you happen to be sitting close enough, he'll grab your hand and start tracing invisible circles onto the back of it with his thumb. If you're really close, Jason will absolutely go as far as to sling an arm around your shoulders.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who is the biggest topic around the other single mothers at your daughter's daycare or preschool. Almost every time he makes an appearance, somebody asks for his number or tries to make small talk. He giggles like an idiot every time you have to scold him for giving them all the rejection hotline number.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who, when he does get asked about relationships by other women at your daughter's childcare facilities, will say that you're together in a committed relationship with no hesitation. He isn't really sure why he does it, either. It only really came about after you two slept together a few months ago.
To be fair, you do call Jason your boyfriend when a creepy guy asks you out.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts hanging out with you casually when he gets the chance. You've ripped him a new one a few too many times when telling him to keep out of excessive danger. What better way to spend his off time now that he doesn't do huge missions than being with his two favorite girls?
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who somehow manages to blend right back into your life when he puts vigilante work to the side a little. He's there to pick up your daughter from day care or playdates when you need him to. He's cooking dinner for you and the little one on a rough day before you even have to ask.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who knows exactly how you feel about him. He sees the way your eyes linger as he stands in your kitchen cooking or how your gaze drifts to his biceps as he picks up your daughter to bring her to bed. "Eyes are up here, sweetness," is what he teases every time he catches your stares.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who is knocking on your door mere minutes after you've texted or called him having a breakdown when your daughter is at a sleepover. He doesn't even care what you're crying about, you're scooped up into his arms instantly. "Shhh... I have you," is one of the constant reassurances he mutters into your hair, "I'm right here. You're not alone."
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who has you practically sitting on his lap as he holds you, his calloused hands rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion. You don't even remember when the slipped under the hem of your (his old) shirt to rub gently at your bare skin.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who listens to you talk, no matter how stupid or silly your problems seem whe compared to his own. He knows better than to give advice other than when you ask for it, so he simplu holds you and listens. "I know, I know..." Is all he coos into your slightly mussed hair as his hands rub and massage your skin.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who waits until you're done speaking to move or say anything. "Look, baby..." You hate how much you still love the petname, "I know it's tough. Trust me, I know." You hate how you love him. "But I'm here, alright? I... I'm sorry I have a tendency to walk out on both of you, but... I'm here now. I'm here as whatever you need me to be. If you need me to stay for you and her, I will. If you need me to leave, I'll go without another thought."
"If you want to forget about what happened the other night, then we'll both forget about it. If you don't want to..." You didn't let him finish, instead capturing his slightly parted lips with your own.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who only pulls away when you do, the pupils of his beautiful green eyes dilated as he looks down at you in his lap. His hands never cease their movement caressing the fat and muscles of your back as he lets out a soft huff of amusement. "You're absolutely crazy getting involved with me voluntarily, doll face." Even as he tries to play it off, you can hear the affection and fondness in his voice.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who takes his time with you instead of rutting into you like an uncaged animal. His hands are slow as they roam across your body, relearning every single one of your curves and crevices like it's the first time he's seen your naked body. Each motion is filled with such care and adoration that you question why you ever split up, even if just for a moment.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who takes every single ounce of your stress away without trying. It doesn't matter that he's only slept with you once or twice in the past couple of years, he's drawing out every single orgasm he can from your pretty little pussy.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who says the nastiest things when hooking up with you. He absolutely gets off on the thought of getting you pregnant again, but he knows better after thinking about the situation the two of you are in. "You're fucking milking me for all I've got, ma," he grunts out as he pounds you relentlessly from behind, his large hands almost dwarfing your hips as he holds them for leverage, "I'm gonna fill this pussy up all over again. You'd like that, huh? You want another little me running around this joint?"
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who, surprisingly, stays the morning after. It isn't picture perfect- nothing ever is- but it's still... Calm. Peaceful. Home. Like something you've never gotten with him before. The pair of you are still completely in the nude, your bodies tangled beneath the mess of sheets. But as your eyes flutter open with the first rays of morning light, the sight of Jason with small clumps of black and white hair stuck to his forehead from the previous night feels right.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts sticking around for a few days at a time after that. You're not sure just how it happened, but your daughter certainly loves it. She missed her daddy being around more often instead of being told that he was 'on a work trip' when it wasn't safe for Jason to see her.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who doesn't miss a beat when your sweet, innocent daughter asks if he's staying this time and if mommy will stay too. "Of course I am, baby girl," Jason, of course, makes direct eye contact with you as he says this before lifting the toddler into his lap. "Promise?" A smile. An actual, genuine smile that only she can get from him. "Promise."
How could you possibly say no to that?
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sunflowerwinds · 3 days ago
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naughty or nice | s.a
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summary: your little family decides to take holiday photos, all dressing up for the occasion. sevika in her santa outfit has your head spinning but you couldn’t act on it right away. a little bit of flirting and teasing never hurt.
pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane
contains: suggestive content, sevika in a santa costume but make it sexy, jinx and isha annoyed with you and sevika, jinx & reader bonding :,), fluff and domesticity!
word count: 1.7K
a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS MY ANGELS!!! i’m sure everyone is spending time with their families but here’s treat of some soft & sexy sevika <3 art cred: @ribbedtank on twt.
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“Baby, I look ridiculous.”
Sevika actually whines to you, adjusting the slightly itchy collar of the cheap Santa outfit you had eagerly purchased for her after she agreed to take family photos for the holidays along with dinner. You were insanely giddy at the sight of Sevika’s open Santa trench coat, a cropped navy tank top hugging her upper body with her toned stomach on full display for you to enjoy.
There was commotion from Jinx and Isha just behind the door of your bedroom where Sevika was hiding out of embarrassment. To you, she was anything but embarrassing in this outfit.
“No, I think you look sexy, Santa,” you reach up to grab at either side of the fluffy white of the coat, ignoring how rough the material was to tug her face more down into your own.
Your girlfriend’s lips twitch into a small smile for a split second before she releases a huff of air, shaking her head with a sigh. You ghost your lips over hers, grazing a teasing kiss over hers. Her breath hitches at the feeling before you release her, smoothing down your matching Mrs. Claus skirt and top.
“Can’t we do this another day?” Sevika begs once more, frowning down at you.
You chuckle with a shake of your head before giving her one more gentle kiss to the scarring on her bottom lip.
“Uh, you guys? Are we doin’ these photos or what?” You hear Jinx call from behind the wooden door. “Isha’s about to scratch her nose paint off.”
Sevika clears her throat before calling out to the younger adult, rolling her eyes at her clear impatience. “We’ll be right there!”
When you give one more once over to your girlfriend, you inch over to the front door to twist the job and open it. There stood the restless pair; Isha with her small arms over her chest of her reindeer onesie, her little deep brown painted nose scrunched up. Jinx was leaning against the door frame with a raised brow at you two but kept her mouth shut, twirling a candy cane around her pointer finger.
“I would just open the door but can’t have the kid seeing too much too soon,” Jinx points at the two of you with the end of the candy cane before shoving it into her mouth.
“We weren’t doing anything,” you scoff at her.
Jinx’s eyes follow up to the taller woman before rolling her violet eyes at the obvious kiss mark imprinted on Sevika’s lower lip. You would wipe it off but it was kind of hot to see your lipstick on her. You zipped your lips for the time being and beamed down at Isha who had grabbed one of your and Sevika’s hands, urging the two of you to hurry up.
“Alright, alright, we’re going Isha,” you chuckle as you follow her to the set-up of a camera you borrowed from a friend that you had in the living room in front of the Christmas tree.
Isha motions towards the camera and signs ‘pictures now, please’. You nod and scurry over to press the timer button, setting it to ten seconds. Jinx and Sevika are bickering over what side of the tree to stand on while Isha places herself next to you as she waits for further instructions on where she should stand.
“Ugh, this elf hat is itchy. Can we hurry up with all this?” Jinx grumbles.
“And where do you have to be in a hurry?” You sass back, shaking your head as you snuggle into Sevika’s side.
Jinx mutters something underneath her breath but Isha is quick to tap her thigh and shake her head at whatever she had said. That seems to calm the blue-haired girl down a bit as the flickering of the timer going off causes everyone to get into position.
Sevika’s strong arm settles over your waist, tugging you in closer as Jinx raises her hand to hold up two bunny ears behind Sevika’s head. Isha stands between you and Sevika’s legs with a bright grin to match yours, one of her small hands holding onto Jinx’s hand and the other holding yours.
The flash goes off to capture Jinx’s baring teeth smile with that candy cane hanging off of her bottom lip as she leans more into Sevika’s side, nearly knocking her over as she had to stand on her tippy toes to keep the bunny ears up. Everyone relaxes once it settles down, you pulling away from the bunch to scurry to the camera to check the photo.
You nearly tear up at the sight of your little family that you adored so much, looking up to see Sevika hoisting Isha to rest on her broad shoulders. She was messing with one of the many handmade ornaments she and Jinx had made for you and Sevika’s tree, wanting to look at all of them up close.
It was a simple little round dark blue ball but it had little doodles of all of your faces there in bright neon colors.
You take the camera off of the tripod to snap a photo of Isha and Sevika, fondness settling in your chest at the two. Jinx butted her face in, just the top of her elf hat and streaks of her blue hair peeking into the frame.
“So, you two got us presents, huh?” Jinx blinks a few times from the startling light to lean her body forward to look at who’s present was who’s. (She was only looking for her presents.)
“You can’t open them until Christmas so don’t even think about it,” you warn from behind the camera as you snap another.
“What? I’m just lookin’.” Jinx shrugged her shoulders, standing upright again to look at you. She glances over at the pair before stepping back a few feet with you to talk to you more privately. “You know, I just want to say thanks. For…doing this. I know the kid’s real excited to spend Christmas here.”
You lower the camera to look into her eyes, searching for any sign of playfulness but you see a sincere light in her eyes. It’s slowly been returning since Isha came into her life but they lit as bright as the lights on the tree as she places her hands on her hips to gaze up at Isha’s animated expression as she traces over a monkey ornament.
“Don’t tell Sevika I said this but,” you look at your wife who had been helping Isha side-eye you two at the mention of her name but doesn’t fully turn towards you and Jinx. “She loves having you guys around too.”
Jinx’s soft grin turns into a genuine smile, rolling her eyes as she throws her striped sleeve arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. Your arms wrap around her smaller frame to let her snuggle her face into the crook of your neck.
“What happened?” Sevika questions as she treks over to you two, placing a gentle hand on your lower back.
You chuckle as you shake your head, feeling Jinx lift her head to copy your actions.
“Just in the jolly Christmas mood, Santy Claus,” the scrappy girl kicks right back into her comedic ways.
Sevika sends her a pointed look before looking down at you, still holding onto one of Isha’s legs to keep her upright. Her brows raise to see if she can get more out of you but you wave her off, pressing another kiss onto her cheek to imprint your lips on her once again.
“We’re good, baby. Let’s eat,” you raise your hand to tickle at Isha’s knee watching her giggle at the feeling.
“Alright, c’mon kid. Let’s grab the cookies and scram!” Jinx held her arms out for Isha to jump into.
Isha was more than elated about this idea, eagerly scrambling off of Sevika’s shoulders into Jinx’s embrace. She caught her with ease, Sevika grunting at the pressure on her neck. Jinx’s braids swung behind her as she scurried off to the kitchen, Isha’s happy giggles following.
“You make a mess, you clean it!” Sevika points a finger at the pair before focusing back on you. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t have to get on her ass, right?”
You fondly look up at Sevika, finding her protectiveness of you so attractive.
“No, no. She hugged me, you do realize that, right? She didn’t hold me at gunpoint.” You tease as you wrap your arms around her neck, stepping into her body warmth.
You watch her gray eyes roll at your taunting, hands settling at your waist as she looks down at you.
“Hey, baby?” You hum as you move one hand up to her blue scarred cheek to trace the skin down to her neck. Sevika hums in response.
“How about when they leave you keep this on when you fuck me tonight? Please?” You whisper, eyes clouding over with desperation.
Sevika pulls back to tilt her head at you, glancing over at Jinx and Isha who were digging into the green plate of decorative cookies you had made. “Wait, really?”
“Baby, well, yeah. Look at you.” You state as if it was obvious as you look down at her lower torso, fighting to urge to get on your knees to lick the ridges of her abdomen.
“I didn't think you were serious. I mean, it’s a Santa outfit,” she replies in an incredulous tone.
Maybe it was a little… silly to some. Probably to most but you were shamelessly hungry for your girlfriend. Taking one more quick glance at the girls in the kitchen, you press your lips onto hers passionately.
“Well, I want you to show me what happens when you get on the naughty list,” you hum, keeping your voice low as a grin crept onto your now smudged lipstick.
The words seem to ignite something within Sevika as she feeds into your light roleplay, leaning down to mutter onto your lips.
“And you’ve been naugthy, baby?”
You nod, a hot rush washing over you at her breath tickling the bottom lip.
After hurrying through dinner and rushing the pair out of your place, Sevika had you tied up with red ribbon as she pounded into you from behind until you were a shaking mess.
Was it selfish? Maybe. But you would make it up to them with all the presents.
One thing was for damn sure: You were Sevika’s favorite present.
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TAG-LIST: @hellokittyfeenie @theirlaliengirl @strawberrykidneystone @kylorey25 @caicreations
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prael · 19 hours ago
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Day 3: Reciprocation
Itzy Yeji x male reader smut
words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist
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If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.
-
"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."
"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."
It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?
"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."
It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.
"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.
You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."
"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.
"I'm well aware."
"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"
"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."
"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off. 
"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."
"No."
"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.
Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.
Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.
In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."
"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.
When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."
It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."
"I'm serious."
You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"
Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."
You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.
"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked—and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"
You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."
For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.
"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"
"What are you trying to say?"
You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.
"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."
Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"
"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."
She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.
The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.
One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.
Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"
"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."
"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"
Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."
-
Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.
You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.
Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.
"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.
It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."
She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?
Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.
"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."
She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"
"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."
"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."
"Oh, I agree completely."
Another step. Another inch towards each other.
"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."
A third.
You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.
You wait.
Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.
Wait.
A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.
Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.
Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.
She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.
Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.
Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.
You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.
"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.
You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."
The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.
"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"
"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.
She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.
"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.
She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.
"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.
"It's exciting."
"What, fucking a stranger?"
"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."
Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.
Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.
"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"
Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.
You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.
"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."
Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.
Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.
"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.
"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."
Already?
You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.
She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.
Then it happens.
Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.
Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.
"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.
You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.
You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.
"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.
The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.
There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"
"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.
Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"
"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.
Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.
She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"
Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.
"In a great way," you answer.
"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."
And that does it for you.
All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.
You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.
Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.
"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.
Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."
She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.
You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.
A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.
"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."
"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.
Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.
"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"
You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?
"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.
It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.
"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.
The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.
So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.
You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."
And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.
The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.
And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.
You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.
An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.
It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.
As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.
You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."
It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"
"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."
Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.
"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.
"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."
"I don't know if I—"
Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.
She leans closer.
You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.
"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.
"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.
Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."
The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.
One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.
It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.
Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.
And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.
"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.
When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.
"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"
"Just catching my breath."
She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.
Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.
"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.
But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.
Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.
She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.
Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.
"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."
"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.
She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.
"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.
"No?"
"You can leave them."
She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.
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flemingology · 2 days ago
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mistletoe ─ alexia putellas x reader
part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!
in which: you try to drop hints to alexia through your christmas decoration
warnings: oblivious alexia deserves a warning on its own
wc: 6.5k
a/n: merry christmas eve to all of you, i loved writing this. i'm glad you all finally get to read this. i hope you enjoy this and i hope you enjoy your evening, if you're celebrating. <3
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You and Alexia had met a couple years ago at the driving range which you worked at. The Spaniard, accompanied with some of her Barcelona teammates, had picked out your work place as their team bonding haven for the afternoon. You had taken a gap year between your bachelors and masters, spending 12 months in Spain with your aunt, in her apartment in the Barcelona city centre. You'd picked up a side job at the driving range which kept you busy throughout the year, but left you more than enough time to soak in the Spanish sun and to explore the rowdy streets of Barcelona.
You and her hit it off immediately, cracking jokes off of each other any time you had the chance. She liked how you didn't seem to treat her as Alexia Putellas – the footballer, but just as Alexia. Human Alexia. Not the one that everyone seemed to want a signature from, or a picture with, but just the one in her day-to-day life. The persona that she didn't get to be most of the times when she was out and about, so it was a welcome change for her.
By the end of their time at the driving range, Alexia had had to endure endless teasing and torturing from her friends about her connection with you. The midfielder hadn't had a romantic interest in a good while, forever claiming she was too busy, but she knew damn well that was a little white lie to cover up for the fact that – despite the attention she faced every single day – she was just really, really shy. So when her friends realized that Alexia was hitting it off with one of the workers from the range, they were adamant that she tried to get your number.
While you were closing up, putting the last sets of chairs on tables and making sure all lights were off and doors were locked, you were suddenly startled by a tap on your shoulder. You couldn't conceal the squeal that escaped your lips, but were quickly comforted once you turned around and saw the face that you'd been thinking about all afternoon.
Alexia's advances had definitely gotten to you throughout the afternoon. You remained professional, but you found yourself gravitating towards their lane every time you had a free moment. You spent most of your time mingling with Alexia and her friends, talking about everything and nothing. It was safe to say that a little flirting had occurred, but you knew who Alexia was and you wouldn't have put it past her for that to be something she did on a daily. You assumed that the Ballon d'Or-winning midfielder could have about anyone she wanted, so you quickly wiped the thought away of her being into you of all people.
"Oh, Alexia, it's you," you chuckled, holding your hand over your chest where your heart would be. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexia said, her Spanish accent seeping through whenever she spoke English. "Don't worry. Everything okay? Was everything to your guys liking?" She gave you a curt nod, and moved her weight from one leg to the other. She seemed a little restless, but you couldn't put your finger on the emotions that were etched on her face.
Alexia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with the right thing to say. You were just about to make a joke, when she reached into the crossbody bag she was carrying and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you have a... uhm," she frowned, looking around. "How you say... una birome?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, amused at how restless the otherwise so composed footballer seemed. Despite your efforts, though, you couldn't help Alexia with her translation. You'd picked up a couple classes here and there, and your Spanish had gotten a lot better ever since you started your year out here, but your knowledge of the language still left a lot to be desired.
"Una biroma?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at her. "No, birome. E, not a," Alexia frowned and seemed to have forgotten about what she actually needed, busying herself with explaining the pronunciation of the word. "Alexia, what do you need?" you interrupted her before she could get lost in her words, both wanting her to tell you what she wanted, but you were also running late to dinner with your aunt. You needed to lock up the range and drive home quick if you wanted to beat the evening traffic, but Alexia was giving you a hard time at doing so.
"Something to write, uh..." "A pen?" "Sí, a pen!"
A breathy laugh escaped your lips as Alexia's face lit up. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the pen you used to write down people's drink orders during the day. "Here. This should do, why do you need it?"
Alexia snatched the pen from your hands and scribbled something down on the piece of paper she'd taken from her bag. Before you could grasp what was happening, she was done and pushed both the paper and the pen back in your hands, before rushing off towards the parking lot. You could just about clamp onto both before they fell down, calling after Alexia, but to no avail. She'd already turned the corner outside and she was out of sight. You shook your head and frowned, wondering what could've startled her all of a sudden. You opened up the crumpled piece of paper and noticed she'd written down her number, a couple scratched out numbers and it was written all wonky. She had clearly been nervous about giving you her number, but you still didn't feel like it warranted her just running out on you like that.
You couldn't help the warm feeling that nestled itself into your stomach at the fact you had seemed to make Alexia Putellas nervous. The Alexia Putellas, 3-time UWCL winner, 2-time Ballon d'Or winner, had gotten so incredibly nervous around you that she sprinted away when she gave you her number.
What you didn't know, whilst you were locking up, is that Alexia was receiving an unimaginable amount of stick at how she handled the situation, but her friends were silently proud of her nonetheless for at least attempting at putting herself out there. They know she struggled with it and for her to make this first step, despite all the pushing by her friends, it was a big leap.
Later that night, when you arrived back home from dinner with your aunt, you decided that would be a good time to message Alexia. You didn't feel like it was appropriate to text her right away, deciding to let some tension build up between the both of you before you allowed her the reprieve of knowing you liked her back.
You texted a little back and forth that same evening, and before you knew it had you a date set in your calendar. You'd agreed on going for coffee the day after, and the rest was history.
But what first seemed like happily ever after, was going to be nothing like it. Not in the slightest. Your first date with Alexia was amazing. The energy you shared at the driving range carried over to the café, the both of you sharing a couple hours talking about everything and nothing with each other. You talked about her career, her youth, her path up to where she was right now, and you talked about your studies, your home back in England and your experiences in Barcelona. You thought the two of you shared a real connection, but you couldn't shake the tinge of disappointment you felt when you didn't end the date with a kiss.
Nonetheless, a second date came, and the two of you still hit it off. You conversed like you'd known each other for years, never a moment of silence when you were together. It felt right with Alexia, you felt comfortable and you could tell she felt the same. And even if you couldn't sense it, you knew because she told you. She opened up about how she felt like she could be herself around you, a welcome change from her usual day-to-day life where she felt like she had to perform and be the version of herself 24/7, day in day out. Your heart had warmed at her words, and you couldn't help but hope that this time, your date would end with a kiss. But nothing was less true.
Weeks went on, date after date happened, you had both been to each other's apartments, but that base hadn't been covered yet. Despite your – sometimes not so subtle – hints, you started falling into a pattern of just casual friendship. It felt like, every week, the mountain was becoming higher to climb. The tension was palpable between the two of you and you knew the Spaniard could feel it too. She'd been more careful around you, a little less expressive and a little less touchy. You don't know who initiated what, but you knew something had changed in the air.
Before long, you started having doubts about the whole ordeal. You knew that, going into this, you were dating a professional footballer. You knew how their schedules got, how busy they were, especially someone like Alexia. Their time at football didn't just stop at practices and games, it was meetings, shoots, media events and so on. Alexia had weaved around her appointments to be able to see you regularly, but it had started to feel like she was slipping away a little.
-
Christmas was around the corner, your favorite time of year. Work had died down tremendously, understandable seen the ranges were outside. No one was interested in freezing their asses off playing some golf around this time of year. But from time to time, you had some customers that came in for a drink. You had gotten through most of your workday on Monday afternoon, when suddenly your phone chimed with a message.
From: Ale ⭐️ Hola, chica. Are you at work? I'm passing by soon. Wanna say hi. :)
You smiled at your phone, the message perfectly encapsulating what had drawn you in about Alexia. She was so sincere, she made you feel like you were genuinely important. She went out of her way to see you, even if it was just for an hour, she would move her shoot and shorten her time for the media just so she could grab a coffee with you. That's why the lack of romantic connection between the both of you confused you. There were a handful of times where you felt like you were going to take the first step, but you didn't want to push her into something that you weren't sure whether she wanted. She had opened up to you about how hard she found it to manage a relationship with her career, so the last thing you wanted to do was force one onto her. That's the reason why you decided to let her come to you, but months had passed now and nothing happened. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other weekly, catching up over a coffee or a film in either's apartment, but the midfielder seemed content with the situation you found yourself in right now, and it had started frustrating you to no end.
On one side, you assumed that it would be better to cut contact. You had to admit it, you were falling for Alexia and if you wanted to make sure you didn't get too hurt from the fall, you had to put yourself first and make an end to it. But you couldn't. Not when her strong arms engulfed you in a hug when she hadn't seen you for a week, not when you came home to your plushies meticulously arranged on top of your made bed as a thank you for letting her stay over the night before, and especially not when her lips softly kissed your cheek every time she wished you goodbye, eye contact lingering a little longer than you should, forever wishing she was kissing your lips goodnight instead of your cheeks goodbye.
You quickly rid yourself of your thoughts and sent Alexia a reply, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.
To: Ale ⭐️ Yeah, I'm at the range.
You didn't intend to be curt, but you had gotten worked up about the situation in your head and didn't feel like being overly nice to her right now. You finished up a bit of work and managed to answer a couple emails before Alexia's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you turned around and got up from your chair, meeting her embrace with one of your own.
"Hola," Alexia mumbled against the side of your face, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go of your body and placing her hands back in the front pocket of her hoodie. You took a moment to take her in. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was trying it's best to keep all her hair at bay, but a couple baby hairs managed to escape anyway. They stood up proudly on top of her head, almost mocking the rest of her hair that was tightly tucked away. She was dressed in a Barca hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, keeping her safe from the cold wind outside that mercilessly nipped at every bit of skin it could find. Her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, remnants of the run she was on before she stopped here. She looked adorable, really, and you could just about press down the urge to surge forward once again and hide your face in her neck.
"Hey you," you smiled, locking eyes with her. "Good run?" Alexia nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the difference in temperature making it harder to regain her composure, your work place a lot warmer than the outside. "Yeah, it felt good. Had training earlier but I felt like a run, so I was happy that my legs were working with me."
You chuckled, no longer surprised at Alexia's incredible work rate. She'd worked hard to be where she was, and there was no way that she wasn't going to keep her spot cemented up there with the big names in football. So with that thought in the back of her mind, she kept working hard every single day, even though she had proved herself and others time and time again that she was the best.
You tried to match Alexia's excited energy, but there was something inside you that didn't allow you to be as expressive with the midfielder as you usually were. Whether it was the thoughts you were having about your situation before she walked in, or something else, you couldn't quite pinpoint, but there was a tension building between the two of you and it didn't feel nice.
"That's nice, Ale," you sat back down on your chair and absentmindedly started doing a bit more of your work, not thinking much of it. You and Alexia had co-existed a lot of times in her apartment, you doing some work for school and her rewatching her games, but this time the Spaniard wasn't having it. "Oi!", you exclaimed, as you felt Alexia flick your ear. "What was that for?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow at her as you turned your chair back over to her, her face sporting a crooked grin.
"Am I not interesting enough for your attention?" she said, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but you could sense the hint of disappointment in her voice. You cursed yourself internally for making Alexia think like that of herself. "No, Ale, I just need to get through some of this work here. I have a lot of emails to catch up with and seen as the range is quiet today, I was making good work of them," you tried to reason. "If you didn't want me to stop by, you could've said," Alexia quipped back, insecurity seeping through her voice. "No, no. It's not that," you said quickly, standing back up and grabbing one of her hands from her front pocket in yours. Alexia intertwined your fingers and you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself and to not get lost in the small display of affection the midfielder was showing you.
You meticulously picked out your next words, not wanting Alexia to feel like she's too much in this space right now. "I don't want you to feel like I don't want to see you, because I always do. You know that," you squeezed Alexia's hand and looked into her eyes, searching them for any sign of discomfort. "I was just a little busy. I'm sorry. I should've said."
Alexia pulled you into another hug, wiping away all the thoughts that were running rampant through your head. Right as you were sinking into her embrace, she pulled away. "No te preocupes. I'll let you finish up with the rest of your work. If you want to watch a film together later, call me. I'm free," Alexia pressed a kiss against your crown and left you to your own devices, stepping away from behind the counter gracefully stepping towards the exit of the building, picking up a jog right before she turned the corner and made her way back to her apartment.
You stood there for a couple moments, registering what just happened. Things always went like this. Alexia would show you some signs of affection, you'd get lost in it and pick everything apart about the small interaction in your mind for the rest of the evening. You didn't know what else you could do to make it clear to her that you wanted her. You'd voiced multiple times that you felt good around her, how you felt about the two of you, but it just seemed like she wasn't able to see through what you were saying. You tried to rid yourself of the insecure thoughts that were creeping past the walls of your mind and busied yourself with more admin work for the rest of the afternoon.
That night, you didn't call Alexia. You had a free night, but you didn't spend it cuddled up with her on the couch, like you had done often the past couple weeks. You and her would pick a film and get way too close to each other throughout it, before you inevitably fell asleep with your head on her lap, always disappointed the morning after when you woke up in her bed, alone. You appreciated that she carried you to bed, but you wanted to be with her. Not alone in her room, sheets cold on the other side, door ajar with the possibility of her joining you, but it never happened.
As much as you tried to distance yourself from Alexia, you couldn't. You didn't let yourself, but it was also nearly impossible with how the midfielder clung to you. You loved it, really, but you'd loved it more if you knew why she wasn't bridging the gap that was so, so clear between the two of you.
-
Christmas Eve. A day you'd grown to love over the past couple years. You didn't have particularly good childhood memories about the day, but ever since you were able to make your own plans for the festivities, December 24th had quickly become one of your favorite days. For the last couple years now, you and your friends had built the little tradition of going to one of your houses and celebrating it there. Everyone that attended made a dish, whether it was starters, main or dessert, and you all enjoyed the company with good food and a couple glasses of good wine. This year, though, you'd all agreed on having it in Barcelona. Your friends didn't want to pass up on the opportunity of seeing you, but they also really wanted to experience Barcelona in all its glory during the winter months. You couldn't blame them. If there was one thing you loved about these couple weeks, it was how nice the city was decorated. Christmas lights adorning every street lantern, Christmas trees littered throughout the city and the soft chime of Christmas music waltzing through the air.
You'd gone out of the way to decorate your aunt's apartment that was yours for the week, her going back to England to celebrate all of it with your family over there. She'd promised you she would give them all many hugs from you, a small side of yours still gutted about the fact that you wouldn't see your family, your mum for Christmas this year. But you knew, surrounded by your friends, you'd have an incredible night. This year, though, you all agreed that plus ones were welcome. You thought it was only fair that if they had to come to Spain, their partners were allowed to come too. That said, though, it seemed like you were the only one without a plus one. It wasn't really something that bothered you, having been single for quite some time now, but you would be lying if you said it hadn't been on your mind the past couple days. Your friends and their partners were out exploring Barcelona before they had to come to yours, and you couldn't help but dread the fact that you couldn't join them with a partner of yourself. Your thoughts dialed back to Alexia, seemingly inevitable, and you figured the least you could do was text her and wish her a fun Christmas Eve.
To: Ale ⭐️ Enjoy your Christmas Eve tonight, Ale. 🧡
You added a little finishing touches to your dinner table, meticulously arranging all the decorations that were on it as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.
From: Ale ⭐️ Thank you, amor. No plans tonight, though. I have training tomorrow morning and we aren't very big on Christmas Eve in our family
Despite the nickname driving you wild, your shoulders fell visibly as you read Alexia's message. You couldn't imagine not having plans on Christmas Eve. A thought crossed your mind and you acted upon it before the flurry of confidence got lost on you.
To: Ale ⭐️ Wanna join us? There's a couple friends and their partners coming over. We're just having a big dinner. Nothing too crazy. If you want, I'll drive you home for training tomorrow? :)
You quickly turned your phone back off and shoved it back into your back pocket, already nervous about Alexia's reply. You busied yourself with a couple final preparations to the snack plates you made, that being your part of the food tonight. You gave your table and food one more look, deciding you were satisfied with how everything looked before you made your way over to your bedroom and picked out the outfit you'd bought for tonight.
You were shopping in Barcelona on your day off last week when your eyes fell on a elegant-looking black jumpsuit. You realized that you didn't have an outfit yet for Christmas Eve, so the choice was made for you, and a couple minutes later you left the store with an extra bag hanging from your hands. You showed the piece of clothing to Alexia through a picture over text, and she voiced how beautiful she thought you would look in it. It was a simple compliment, but it'd warmed you inside and it had you thinking about how it could've been had you guys decided to start a relationship somewhere during the last few months. You could've spent the holidays together, buying each other presents, wearing matching pj's, watching Christmas films on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. But despite all the flirting and teasing, nothing had happened between the two of you, and you were here in your bedroom, alone. Before you could sulk any further, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.
From: Ale ⭐️ Oh, eso suena bien. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your night with your friends.
You chuckled at her concern, and typed a quick reply.
To: Ale ⭐️ Yes, I'm sure. I'd love to have you with us here. Vendrán a las 7, pero puedes venir un poco antes si quieres :)
You tried your best to form a coherent Spanish sentence, knowing Alexia liked it when you made an effort to try and speak her mother tongue. She'd let it slip one time that she found your accent attractive, and ever since then you'd attempted to learn a bit more in your free time. A quick glance at the clock told you the time was nearing 6, so you waited for Alexia's reply and then quickly jumped in the shower.
From: Ale ⭐️ Perfect. I'll be there. See you soon. x
The jumpsuit fitted you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You put on a light touch of make-up, not wanting to go overboard but you liked to add a little extra touch to your look on days like these. You made your way back downstairs and lit some candles, trying to set a warm and homely scenery for your guests later. You put on a soft Christmas playlist and took a step back to admire your work, infatuated by how cosy your place looked right now.
You'd turned off all the big lights and replaced them with your cosy mood lightning throughout the apartment, casting your place in a golden glow. The shadows of the candles you lit were dancing all over the ceiling. Your Christmas tree, which you had spent hours on last week trying to decorate it to your liking, was tucked away in the corner of the living room, its twinkling lights shining bright. The dinner table was decorated lightly, adding a couple red and white details to the table decoration. There was a mistletoe hanging from the arched entryway from the dining area to the living room, and you couldn't help but think about the possibilities it could bring later on. The light scent of cinnamon and peppermint hung in the air, courtesy of a couple scented candles Alexia had gifted you last week. She'd recently learned just how much you liked the holidays, and wanted to give you something that you could use in your place. She wasn't big on it herself, her and her family never having made a big deal out of it, so for her to go out of her way to pick something up for you, meant so much more to you than she could imagine.
The soft hints of music waltzing through the air really finished off the perfect picture, and it's safe to say you were more than satisfied with the way your apartment looked right now. The time was nearing 6:45 and you knew Alexia would be here soon, followed suit by your friends in the following 20 minutes. Right on cue, you heard a knock on your door.
You could feel your heart skipping a beat, but you tried to ignore it. You wiped your hands on your jumpsuit and tried to regain your composure by taking in a deep breath, before making your way over to the door in a couple quick strides and taking a look through the peer hole of the door. If you were nervous before, you surely were now. You couldn't quite see all of it, but the outfit Alexia was wearing had already left a dry feeling in your mouth. You caught yourself staring and shook your thoughts, stepping back and opening your door, revealing the Spaniard in all her glory. She was wearing a pair of black suit pants, combined with a white blouse that she left opened at the top. Her hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders, a welcome change to the ponytail and headband she usually had in when you saw her. You didn't see her in something else than her sporty attire that often, so every time you did, she always managed to take her breath away. As if her outfit wasn't enough to throw you off balance, she was holding a a big bouquet of red roses in her hands. The look on her face told you that she knew this outfit would've pulled a reaction out of you, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the goofy grin off her lips.
"Ale," you breathed, "Hey. You look incredible," you said, taking a step back and allowing her space to enter your apartment. She turned back towards you and shamelessly checked you out, letting her eyes rake over your jumpsuit-clad body before she met yours. "Hear who's speaking. You look amazing," she said, inching closer to you and pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. You didn't fail to notice the way her hand wrapped around your waist for a second, the skin on your lower back burning where she had just touched you. "Aquí, para ti," she said, holding out the bouquet in front of her. "You didn't have to do this, Ale, you know-," "Shh, don't worry. You invite me, so I bring you something."
A blush coated your cheeks as you took the bouquet from her, placing it down on the counter while you looked for a vase. "This looks nice, you've done a good job on decorating," Alexia said, her voice ringing through the apartment as she explored your living room. You lifted your head from the cabinet in which you found a vase that would suit the flowers, and shot her a smile. "Thank you, I spent quite some time on it. I'm glad you like it," Alexia hummed and returned back to admiring your decorated apartment.
The night went on just as you'd hoped it would. Not long after Alexia arrived, your friends came up too. Long, heartfelt hugs were shared with everyone, suddenly realizing you'd missed them so much more than you thought you had. Alexia didn't need an introduction to any of them, but it's safe to say they were more than surprised when they realized she was your plus one for the evening. A lot of questions were thrown your way whenever Alexia was out of earshot, but you tried to quiet them down because the last thing you wanted, was to get upset about how everything with Alexia went down the last couple of months. You cut it down to "we're just friends," multiple times, but none of your friends could miss the tinge of disappointment that flickered through your eyes every time the subject got brought up.
Lots of good food and a little bit too much wine later, your friends started making their way back out. You'd offered for them to stay over, but they had all made a reservation for a night at hotels nearby. They were all flying back home tomorrow and they could use the rest before a long day of traveling. Alexia was lingering, and while you actually didn't want her to leave, you were also surprised. After all, she still had training tomorrow. With the clock nearing 12, you knew she was way past her usual bedtime. "Ale, you okay?" you questioned, the Spaniard busying herself with cleaning up your table. You frowned when she didn't reply, so you stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Alexia." "Hmm?" she mumbled, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear. What did you say?"
You chuckled and rubbed her shoulder affectionately before dropping your arm back to your side. "Are you okay? I know it's late, I thought you'd want to leave early because you have training in the morning," you said tentatively, not wanting to seem like you wanted her gone. "Ah, sí. Yeah, I should get going," the midfielder said, but you sensed she didn't really want to do that. "You don't have to, you know that. You can stay here too and I'll drive you to practice tomorrow. I don't have work this week and my aunt isn't here, it's not a bother to me."
Alexia's eyes lit up and you knew you had her. "If that's okay?" she asked again, wanting to make sure that she was not a bother to you. You nodded, offering her a big smile. "Yeah, of course. Don't worry. I'll get my bedroom set up for you."
Before she could muster up a reply, you'd already turned the corner and were making your way upstairs. Truth be told, Alexia had felt a little out of place all evening. She had fun, lots of fun even, but she could sense that the air between the two of you was charged with something she didn't like. In all fairness, she was jealous of your friends. They had all brought their partners and were spending their Christmas Eve all cozy and cuddled up with their lovers, while you two were still just going about things as "good friends". She was tired of dancing around the feelings she had for you, the feelings she was sure you had for her too. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days as your girlfriend, waking up together in your bed in the morning, spending your days together, you coming to her games and her coming to your work whenever you had the time. She didn't want to act like she didn't want you in a different way than she had you right now. It wasn't enough. And if it couldn't be, she'd have to cut contact with you.
Unbeknownst to her, you were thinking about her too in your bedroom. You made your bed and put out some clothes for Alexia to sleep in, and you couldn't help but think about how disappointed you had been that you didn't get to love up on Alexia like your friends were doing with their partners all night. A couple fleeting touches would've had to do, each one lingering a bit longer than the other, telling you that Alexia was clearly feeling the same way about the situation like you. Despite the obviousness of the whole ordeal, neither of you had succeeded in taking the next step. You were caught up in your mind, when suddenly an idea came up to you. The mistletoe.
You made your way back down and were surprised to see your dining table cleaned up. The kitchen was still quite the mess, but that was something you would tackle yourself tomorrow. "Thanks, Ale, you didn't have to do that. I could've helped you", you said, the Spaniard waving you off from her spot in the kitchen. "Don't worry, please. You invited me tonight and you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is help you with cleaning up."
You mumbled another quick thanks when she passed by you, making her way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You wanted to follow her, but there was only one thing on your mind and you wouldn't let it go until you'd got what you wanted. You lingered between the dining area and the living room, very purposefully standing under your arched entryway where the mistletoe hung. You prayed to all the Gods that Alexia would understand the meaning of the Christmas ornament, but the dumbfounded look on her face when you didn't join her immediately told you otherwise.
"Come here, I want to cuddle," she stated. You wanted nothing more than to join her on the couch, to fall in her outstretched arms, but you stayed put, because what you really wanted was something so much better than a cuddle. It wasn't out of sorts for you to be cuddled up together on the couch, so she looked at you weirdly and cocked her eyebrow and head at you when you shook your head adamantly. "¿Por qué no?"
"Ale...," you breathed, vaguely gesturing towards the mistletoe hanging above your head. You didn't want to have to spell it out, missing out on the sincerity of the moment if you had to explain Alexia what you wanted. But you thanked your lucky stars when you saw Alexia moving up from the couch and making her way over to you in a quick few strides. Your luck ran out soon enough though, when Alexia halted in front of you but didn't make any further moves towards you. "¿Qué pasa? Why do you have twigs on your ceiling?"
At that moment, you wished that the ground would swallow you whole. You thought you finally were about to get what you'd been yearning for the past couple months, but much to your disdain, Alexia clearly didn't know what the mistletoe hanging above the two of you meant. You sighed and closed your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself before speaking up. "Alexia, that's a mistletoe," you explained. "A what? Mistle... toe? What is that?" You sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose, barely containing a laugh at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in.
"It's a Christmas decoration, Ale, and it-" "Ah, sí. It's nice," she finished her sentence and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards her and back to the couch, but you planted your feet in the ground. "Alexia," you said sternly. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at the tone of your voice. "Yes?" "It's a tradition that, when you're under a mistletoe with someone, that you have to... you have to kiss," you whispered the last word, almost not wanting to voice it out loud, scared that you might break the bond the two of you had been building up the last couple months. Maybe this wasn't what Alexia wanted at all, maybe she just wanted you as a friend and nothing more. Doubts started to creep in the longer the silence between the two of you stretched, neither of you making a move. "Oh...," Alexia mumbled at last.
You looked down at your feet, playing with the rings that clad your fingers. "Yeah," you breathed, before braving a look at her. "I mean, we don't have to... it's just a silly tradition, really. I didn't mean to-," before you could embarrass yourself further while trying to turn the situation around, you felt Alexia's hands cupping your cheeks. She tilted your head upwards and took a step closer towards you, resting her forehead against yours. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in through her nose, composing herself for a moment before opening her eyes again and locking them with yours. She brushed your bottom lip with her thumb before speaking up.
"Can I kiss you?" "Please do."
486 notes · View notes
bisuhq · 3 days ago
Text
under the mistletoe!
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includes : (mouthwashing) anya, curly, daisuke, swansea.
summary : you get caught under the mistletoe!
warnings : gn! reader. mutual pining/early relationship.
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ANYA
Has been waiting for you to notice the mistletoe above you both, she doesn't want to initiate the good old tradition but she definitely wants to participate in it.
When Anya glances upwards for the umpteenth time, you finally decide to follow her line of vision, noticing the mistletoe that hung above you both. Glancing down at Anya, you notice the slight flush to her cheeks, and realize she's noticed it the whole time.
"You know," Your voice drops to a whisper as you take a step closer to her, "If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask." Cupping her cheek gently, you lock eyes with hers.
She mumbles something under her breath- something about being oblivious, causing you to chuckle in agreement. You definitely wish you had noticed it early, so that you could've spent more time kissing her. With that in thought, you don't waste another second.
Your lips press against hers, savoring the sweet flavor of cake on her lips. Anya wraps her arms around your neck, deepening the kiss with rare resolve. Pulling away is a struggle, not wanting the kiss to end, but when it does you at least get to revel in the beauty of her dazed expression.
CURLY (pre-crash)
Tries to play it off as a joke in case you don't like the whole tradition, subsequently forcing you to make the first move and leaving him a little embarrassed.
When you both noticed the mistletoe hung above your heads, you had hoped it meant that Curly would finally kiss you. Instead, he awkwardly tries to crack a joke. "So... You come here often?" He winced at how bad that one liner sounded, wishing the ground would swallow him hole- but when you stifle a laugh (because it's cute how hard he's trying), he seems to relax a bit.
"Only when I see a handsome, lone Captain standing here." You reply, enjoying the way he seems to brighten at the answer, him responding in a husky 'is that so?'. Taking a step closer, your hand finds his chest. "You know, if memory serves right, tradition is that those standing under the mistletoe are to kiss, right?"
"Mmhm, big fan of tradition." Curly hums, nodding in agreement. Taking that as your cue, you lean in to kiss the handsome man before you. He sighs blissfully into the kiss, but pulls away all too quickly for both of your sakes.
"Yeah, definitely a big fan of tradition." Curly says, a bit in awe of the kiss, before deciding he's definitely not done kissing you yet.
DAISUKE
Thinks he's being smooth when he suddenly stops in front of the mistletoe with you by his side. He's not, but he gets points for being cute.
"Right this wa-" Daisuke was going to show you something in the other room, but stopped so abruptly you ran straight into his back. Stumbling backwards, you furrow your brows in confusion. Daisuke is now leaning against the doorframe, raising his brows.
"What are you doing?" You just so happen to glance upwards to see mistletoe above the doorway. You look back at Daisuke, "Are you serious?"
"Am I rizzing you up yet?" Its a good, solid debate in your head if you should leave him hanging or actually consider kissing him. Shaking your head at his silly antics, you give him a (teasing) pitiful look. "Is that a no-"
"Daisuke, just kiss me." You sigh, and he definitely doesn't need to be told twice. Excitedly, Daisuke swoops in and kisses you under the mistletoe. His hands a little shaky as they settle on your waist and pull you in closer, deepening the kiss.
SWANSEA
Who put this shit up? Swansea is not having any of it- hm? Oh, you like mistletoe? Well he supposes it isn't soooo bad.
Stood on a step stool, Swansea is taking the mistletoe down when you approach in curiosity. "Awe, don't rip it off Swansea!" You say, he sends you a small glare.
"You the one who put this shit up?" You giving a shrug, acting coy. Perhaps you were the one who put mistletoe up right under the Utility room, maybe you weren't. You definitely were. Either way it has Swansea faltering. "Ugh, as long as you take it down later, I guess..." He grumbles, leaving the mistletoe as he gets off the stool.
You gasp as he steps off the stool, capturing his attention once again. "Swansea! Looks like we're under the mistletoe, you know what that means~" You coo, mostly teasing, but when you see the light blush on his face you decide to double down on it. "Rules are rules, as they say."
"You're somethin' else, ya know that?" He sighs, looking at your excited face- you hide your intentions terribly. With a grunt, Swansea gives you a quick kiss, and when you whine, he snickers. "Hey, rules never specified how long." Damn, he got you this time, but you'll outsmart him next time!
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
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jayktoralldaylong · 2 days ago
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One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.
I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!
"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀
Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.
Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.
And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.
Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.
Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.
I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.
And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.
Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.
Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.
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sinstear · 3 days ago
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ㅤ❝ I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY AND ONCE A WEEK FOR YOU ❞
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpairing. milf!abby x mechanic!reader
masterlist. warnings. 18+, sub!abby, dom!reader, milf!abby, mechanic!reader, dirty talk (a lot of it, oops), fingering, strap usage, abby just being a needy brat, breeding kink, there’s probably more a/n. merry christmas gays <3 this is a small installation to the milf!abby au me and @vifilms have created. if it’s a little confusing on the jump, don’t worry, you’ll get more parts explaining their relationship before or whatever soon. happy holidays, and if you don’t celebrate it, i hope you all have a blessed day either way <3
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milf!abby who doesn’t hesitate to text you when it comes down to her friends having a small get-together, her first instinct was to ask you to come with her, and she was a little too giddy and excited when you replied with ‘of course, more time to spend with a pretty lady’ what she would never admit was that she spent an ungodly amount of minutes looking at your reply, apples of her cheeks crimson red before she replied with her own ‘sounds good, can’t wait to see you’ unaware that on the other side of town, you were already rummaging around in your closet, trying to find something perfect enough, that will go with whatever she picks, to wear. apart from ripped jeans, t-shirts, and a few jackets, you were at a loss. confused on what to wear to a small party with people who would dress up a little more … sophisticated-like. the bright colors, the pretty pearls. that wasn’t you. you were content with your hoodies, your jeans, your button-up shirts, and sweatpants. not what they love to wear.
milf!abby can’t focus the second you walk through the door that same night, dressed in a pair of jeans, heavy boots paired with a white shirt, and a jacket. she’s seen you in nothing but a tank top, oil and grease covering your arms, and even then you looked hot working on her car every day, you looked ethereal and more handsome tonight. abby doesn’t know how to react when she finds you talking to some of her friends, offering to help if they need it, seconds later. she thinks it’s kind that you are offering even though you were a guest. one of the many things she adores about you. always wanting to help.
milf!abby drags you away from the party not even 15 minutes later. her hands cupping your face, while yours are instantly pulling down the dress she was wearing, down over her shoulders, and bunching it around her hips as you cup both her tits and squeeze them in the palm of your hands, the second she pulls you into the bathroom. the soft sounds of her whines and whimpers fill the echoed room while you simply grin against her neck, pinching and pulling at her hard pebbled nipples. her head rests against the bathroom door, the whimpers tumbling from her shamelessly has you growling into her neck and slipping your leg between her thigh. a sinister grin appearing on your lips at her sudden gasp, wrapping her arm around your neck and holding you to her. “i bet if i put my hand up your dress right now, you’re gonna be soaked, hm?” you muttered against her flushed skin. “don’t even have to tell me, i know.” your mocking words had abby’s heart pounding in her chest, cunt clenching around nothing and cheeks flushed while she nods desperately. “love your tits so much, so fuckin’ pretty”
milf!abby’s eyes roll back in her head when you’re placing your hand over her mouth, muffling the sounds thats dripping from between her cherry red swollen lips as you bury your fingers deep in her cunt, groaning softly under your breath at the way she clenches around you tightly. “you know how much i love to hear you, but you gotta be quiet f’me, sweetheart, hm?” you coo, kissing away the tears streaking her face. “i know you can do it, don’t wanna get caught, do you?”
“m’sorry, just feels s’good.” abby whimpered against your hand, voice hitching when the palm of your hand rubbed against her neglected clit. fingers clutching at your crumpled shirt, knuckles white with the sheer iron grip she has on you. it makes you laugh, making her whine with a deeper blush knowing just how fucking needy she is. needy for you to touch her, making a mess of her, and have her weak in the knees. you only have to look at her, and she’s begging for you.
“yeah, i can tell, practically soaking my hand.”
that just makes abby clench around you harder. 
milf!abby clings to you for dear life and whimpers loudly into your neck when she gushes all over your fingers minutes later, slick running down the inners of her thigh and another whimper is ripped from her throat as you gently pull your fingers out of her cunt, bringing those fingers straight to your mouth with a grin. her pupils dilate more, if that’s even possible when you wrap your lips around them and suck. the moan you let out at the taste of her, has her rubbing her thighs together again. an action that you don’t miss. “taste just as sweet as last night, sweetheart.” you hummed with a cheeky grin, leaned forward, and kissed the side of her mouth. laughing at her whine. “patience, baby. just a little longer, and i promise, you can have my cock later.”
milf!abby is pathetic and whiny when you’ve finally got her bent over the sink, dress still bunched over her hips, panties in your back pocket for a keepsake, and she can’t hold back on those sounds you love to hear so much when your cock is deep inside her cunt. stretching her out perfectly, like her pussy was made for you. you could tell she was struggling to keep it down, not wanting her friends to hear. you on the other hand, were crazy. you wouldn’t care at all if they heard the pretty sounds you were pulling from her with each thrust of your hips. 
“wish i could feel you” you groaned, hands iron grip on her hips, pulling her back and down on your cock. your eyes dropping to shamelessly watching the way her cunt practically sucks your strap back inside of her. only for your eyes to snap up at the soft whine to find abby with her head buried in the bend of her elbow, trying to muffle her sounds. “lemme hear you, baby, yeah?” you cooed, tangling your fingers into her soft blonde locks and pulled her head back carefully. “yeah, you look so pretty like this” you smirked at her through the mirror. “look so sexy while i split you open on my cock.”
abby wasn’t sure whether to look at you or herself. her hair was disheveled, her light makeup ruined, cheeks flushed, hips bruised due to your grip, and her lips all red and swollen. if you both walked out of the bathroom now, everyone would know. they would all know what happened, and maybe that excites abby a little because her cunt clenches around your cock, gasps, and jolts against the mirror when you’re removing your hand from her hip, to reach down between her legs and rub light circles on her clit. “just needed to have all your worries and thoughts fucked out that pretty head of yours hm? don’t worry, sweetheart, m’gonna fuck you until you can barely remember your own name.”
the blonde opens her mouth to reply, brain completely empty and cheeks flushed darker red if that’s even possible, but her attempt at trying to reply to your words fail when you angle your hips just perfectly, your cock is deliciously rubbing that spot deep inside her and abby’s hand is quick to slip between her legs and rub circles on her clit with you. “fuck, fuck, right there, please please—” her voice breaks and her head slumps against her mirror, her breath fogging up the glass. “i need—”
“what do you need, hm baby? need me to fuck you until you can’t walk? mark you up? show everyone you’re mine?” you listed, groaning against her neck and fucking her hard, rubbing her clit faster. “need me to fill you up, s’that what you need? fill you up and make you a mama?”
“yes! yes yes, please—” abby’s chokes out, a little too late to warn you or barely registers a warning as her body tenses beneath you and gushes over your cock with a loud gasped whimper that has you putting your mouth over her mouth, not wanting her friends to know what was happening, even if it was something you so badly wanted deep down. “oh—” she sighs against your hand, eyes fluttering closed again as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm.  
“me saying i wanna make you a mama did it for you, huh?” you laughed against her ear, your breath fanning her skin hotly as you ran your nose up and down her neck. enjoying the way she lifts her head up and looks at you through the mirror. completely fucked out. only for you to groan softly when she’s pushing back against you with a whine. “sweetheart,”
“wanna make you cum” 
“later, you can do whatever you want”
milf!abby can’t avoid the grins and smirks her friends give her when you both finally make your way back downstairs to find them in the kitchen. they wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the fact that abby was patting down her hair, fixing her dress. or you, in all your glory, were butting up your shirt, not caring at all that they were grinning your way. “have fun, abby?” one teased, eyeing up the marks on her neck. “it looks like you guys both had a lot of fun”
glaring at her friend, abby simply huffed, wrapped her arm around yours and scowled. “stop it!” she mumbled, trying to hide the obvious blush coating her face. while you, being a shit, were just laughing softly against her head. “don’t encourage them!”
“m’not doing anything” you grinned, hand slipping down to her lower back and kissing behind her ear. a place you know that always has her melting in your hands. “you don’t have to tell me you had fun, the sounds you were making are enough for me to know, sweetheart.” you whispered in her ear before walking away into the kitchen. that stupid fucking smirk, a smirk she loves a little too much, resting on your lips.
milf!abby who cannot wait until this little party is over so that she can go home and hold you up on your promise of letting her do whatever she wants to do to you. for the time being, she’s just going to have to sit there and let her friends tease her about the sounds that were coming from the bathroom, and ignoring the way you simply looked at her, slumped between two of her friends, legs spread with a beer in your hand and a grin on your face each time she would grow redder at their constant teasing. she just needed to get this party out of the way so she could have you all to herself once again, free to do whatever she wanted, and you were excited, to say the least. 
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