#if they asked me to i would face any of them

[yailtsv]

Chapter 1: Crossing the Line

ceo!paige pushes you past the unprofessional line

»»— warnings: smut, bad grammar, bad punctuation, i don’t know how to write smut, mention of y/n once, aftercare

»»— notes: tell me what to fix on the smut please 🙏 😭 i hope this meets everyone’s expectations and if not please tell me what i should change for the future. if you have ceo!paige ideas SEND THEM IN!!! (fluff or i’ll try smut again! just send in ANY ideas)

»»— word count: 2.1k

“miss. bueckers, you have a photo shoot today at 2 for GQ” you tell paige after she responds with a “come in” to your knocking

“alright, and i told you to just call me paige, didn’t i?” paige responded back - knowing she’s told you that a million times

“yes ma’am”

“so then why aren’t you doing that?”

“don’t want to be unprofessional ma’am” you reply back after a few seconds of silence “unprofessional huh?” paige responds back smirking a little

“you also have a sit down talk scheduled at 4 for an article connected with the photo shoot.” you replied back nervously after seeing her smirk - trying to change topics but only got more nervous when paige stood up and walked towards you

paige leans over you shutting the door and locking it, making your breath hitch

“anything else?” paige says standing really close to you - invading your personal bubble, and moving her hand to push back a piece of your hair that was in your face

“um you need to turn in the new shoe drop designs tonight by 10pm-“ paige then decided to move her hand again but this time put it on your waist, lightly rubbing her thumb in circles through your blouse “go on” paige says in a low raspy voice

“once you get those turned in, we need to post teasers on the PBKicks accounts” you reply breathlessly

“that it?” paige asks moving her hand that was on your waist down to your lower back and pushing you closer into her making you let out a small breathless gasp

you turned your head avoiding eye contact before nodding your head to her question, she clicks her tongue in disapproval before moving one of her hands to underneath your chin and lifting your head up to look her in the face “use your words”

“yes, that’s it” you whimpered out breathlessly, feeling like your stomachs doing cartwheels

“good girl” you have to lean closer to paige after she says that - your knees getting weak

she chuckles at that and leans in closer to your ear whispering - “seems like someone has a praise kink, huh?” you just make a small noise between a moan and a whimper, resting your forehead on paige’s chest, to hide your flushed face

paige just laughs and pulls you to her in office couch, sitting down and pulling you on to her lap “this is unprofessional mis- paige”

“says who?” paige responds teasingly rubbing her hands everywhere across your body “rules” you stammered out fighting the urge to grind down on her

“i’m the ceo baby, i make the rules.” paige said while gripping your hips hard and pushing you down on her thigh - moving you back and forth - making you moan out loudly

paige doesn’t say anything and just takes her tie off and shoved it in your mouth “but you do still need to be quiet my love, wouldn’t want to distract everybody from their work, now would we?”

you nod your head, now moving your hips on your own with paige just watching “there we go baby, doing such a good job for me huh?”

you just let out a muffled moan in response - trying to grind harder feeling your release building up “you gonna cum? hmm?” you just nod but quickly become disappointed when paige grips your hips - stopping you from moving and from your release

she doesn’t say anything and just pushes you down on to the couch and gets on top of you.

“you wanna do this?” paige asks, wanting your consent before doing anything else, you shake your head saying yes while also saying a muffled yes with her tie still in your mouth

she smiles a little bit taking the tie out of your mouth and setting it on the couches arm rest “words” paige says again

“yes i want to do this” you whine out in a needy tone, paige leans down and connects your guys lips together, making you moan into the unexpected kiss

while you both are fighting for dominance in the kiss, paige’s hand is exploring your body before stopping at your buttoned up blouse “can i take this off?” paige mumbles against you making you nod in response

she pulls away from the kiss and sits up, unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it off, throwing it across the office, her eye’s immediately raking over your upper body

“you’re so beautiful” paige says still checking you out before leaning down and pressing her lips to your neck. paige kisses all over your neck sucking gently in some places making you let out quiet breathless moans

paige slowly trails down your abdomen, when she reaches your stomach she moves her kisses back up to your breasts

she trails her kisses to the top of your boobs gently sucking there too before moving her hand behind your back - making you arch into her, so it can be easier for her to unhook your bra

she drags your bra off throwing it in the same direction as your blouse, immediately kissing all around your chest - giving both of your breasts attention, with you arching into her more

after a few minutes of paige just kissing and sucking your chest she moves down your stomach stopping at the waist band of your skirt “can i take this off?” she asks again

“only if you take some things off, you’re to clothed” you reply back breathlessly, she shakes her head amused before standing up from the couch and taking off her suit jacket, and unbuttoning her dress shirt and throwing both of them in the same direction as the other clothes leaving her in her bra

you don’t say anything and just unbutton your skirt as a way of saying that she can take off your skirt now - which she picks up on and immediately walks closer to you and puts her fingers in the waistband of your skirt - pulling it down and tossing it

she immediately gets back on top of you, bringing you back into a kiss

while you guys are fighting for dominance again, she runs her fingers over the wet spot on your panties making you moan into her mouth “this wet already?” paige moans against your lips

“mm fuck, i can’t wait anymore.” paige says moving down your legs with her fingers at your pantie line, looking up at you again - asking if she can take them off, which you nod at, once she got the green light she immediately pulled your underwear down and tossed them with the others

she moved her eyes up and down for a little, checking you out with no shame whatsoever, before she got impatient with herself and layed down between your legs

she slowly kissed around your thighs, with you groaning impatiently and trying to push her head to where you need her the most - that did not work, as her head didn’t budge and she just chuckled amused looking up at you

“impatient are we?” paige says with that low voice again “paige” you whine out “do something please”

“only cause you asked so nicely” she says before pushing her head down and immediately bringing your clit into her mouth, sucking on it

you moaned out loud, making paige reach up from her spot and grab the tie, shoving it back in your mouth - all while still circling her tongue around you

she moved her tongue down your slit, circling her tongue around your entrance before pushing in - you putting your hands in her hair, trying to push her closer

paige groans into you at the pressure on her head, the vibration making you moan louder through the tie.

paige then stop’s thrusting her tongue and moves up back to your clit and moves her fingers down to your entrance - taking over where her mouth just left

paige circles her middle finger around your entrance while sucking on your clit, before thrusting that finger in

you groan loudly over the tie making paige let out a little giggle against you, “how many can you take mama?” she mumbles against you, you don’t say anything but you hold up two fingers

she makes a small noise of acknowledgment and takes her middle finger out, before thrusting her pointer and middle finger in together

she takes her free hand and puts it over your mouth - the tie not muffling enough of your loud moans, so she took it out and threw it.

while she kept sucking on your clit and thrusting her fingers inside of you, you started moving your hips - trying to get closer to her mouth and fingers, making her chuckle into you

“paige” you whine out with her humming in response “fuck don’t stop, please” you can feel your release getting closer and so can paige, only making her speed up more

you swore you could see stars when your orgasm crashed through you, decreasing a little bit as paige worked you through your high

your whine was the thing that pulled paige away from you - seeing that your now overstimulated and don’t need worked through anymore.

paige leans up from between your legs and bringing you into a kiss - you tasting yourself on her tongue,

your still trying to catch your breath and paige still hasn’t said anything - but she grabbed you by the waist and turned you both over, so your now laying on top of her, with her holding your head to her chest

“what about you?” you say after you finally caught your breath back “do you want to do that right now?” paige asked in your ear,

but before you could answer there was a knock at the door, making paige stand up while saying “one second” she layed you back down on the couch, and covered you with a blanket, just in case, and walked to the pile of clothes hurrying on putting her dress shirt back on properly before opening the door enough for her to see the person, and the person be able to see her, just enough for it to not be considered suspicious

“you have to leave in 10 minutes for GQ magazine, we can’t find y/n, so i didn’t know if she told you or not.” one of your interns said

“oh alright, thank you.” paige said shutting the door as soon as the intern acknowledged that paige answered and walked away

paige walked to her small in office bathroom, getting a rag and wetting it before coming back over to you, and gently cleaning you down there, with you letting out small noises from sensitivity

“i didn’t realize we were that close to time for the magazine shoot, i’m sorry” you say out tiredly

“it’s fine, we’re not late” paige said while walking over and grabbing your panties, bra, and one of her spare dress shirts that she keeps in her office in case her shirt gets dirty, and walked to her mini fridge grabbing a water bottle

she helps you get dressed in those said clothes, handing you the water after she opened it for you

“you’re gonna stay here and take a nap while i’m at the shoot-“

“no i’m fine, i’m your assistant, i have to be there!” you say cutting her off making her raise her eyebrows at you

“i’ll bring one of your interns with me, i already know you have everything written down correct?” paige asked in a knowing voice, that you just nod your head to

“great! so we will take your notes and go to the shoot while you stay here a take a well deserved nap yeah? i’ll lock the door when i leave, so you don’t have to worry about anyone walking in and seeing you in my shirt and panties, there’s snacks and drinks in the mini fridge and cabinets, just make yourself at home until i get back alright?” paige said with her hand on your bare thigh - rubbing small circles with her thumb

you just nod your head, not wanting to agree with this but also not having a choice “good girl” paige says while leaning in again and giving you a kiss before pulling away to get changed to leave for the shoot

“i never got to please you” you say looking up at her with tired eyes, paige chuckles from buttoning up a new pair of suit pants - seeing as the ones she was wearing are now wet

“maybe next time”

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @ldapper

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In His Hands

summary: joaquin takes care of you in the face of your anxiety.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

wc: 2,018

contents: 18+/MINORS DNI, SMUT, established relationship, anxiety, oral sex (f!receiving), teasing, pet names

an: been thinking about joaquin being soooo accomodating + sweet, so here's the finished product. MINORS DNI i stg!!!

marvel masterlist

“Joaquin, don’t,” You whine, keeping your eyes on the study materials strewn about the coffee table. 

“Don’t what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

Though you can’t see him, you can hear the smile in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Ya sabes qué,” You suggest, reaching out to lazily brush his hand away from your shoulder.

He had started to rub them, massaging the tension out of your shoulders that always finds a home there. It’s sweet and you appreciate his care, but Joaquin’s touch is like a drug. Saccharine and sensual, it makes your insides warm in ways you didn’t know were possible until you fell in love with him. 

“Oh this,” He murmurs nonchalantly. His hands don’t stop, continuing to rub out the knots in your flesh. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m trying to study,” You say matter of factly.

“You’ve been studying all damn day, querida. You could use a break.”

“I can’t afford to break, the test is tomorrow. I need to cram as much information into my brain as I can.”

“You know so much already— look, it’ll be a piece of cake. You can do this, se que sí.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re the goddamn Falcon. This is important to me, Quino. All I’ve ever wanted was to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and I know you know how that feels. To want something so bad it feels like you can’t breathe.”

Joaquin did know. Looking up to Sam for all those years, wishing and waiting— working harder than he thought was possible brought him to where he is now. But, he’d also had you for a lot of that. Always there to make sure he was taking care of himself, that he didn’t wither away who he truly was for his dreams. He would always repay the favor; it’s what you deserve. 

“I know, querida, I know. This is important, but so are you. You’re so stressed— feel how tight you’re wound,” He murmurs, taking your hand and placing it on your shoulder. He’s right, your shoulders feel like bricks. 

“I could help with that,” He insists.

“You aren’t playing fair,” You whisper, leaning your head back against the couch as he increases the strength of his hands.

“Never said I would, baby,” He teases, planting a kiss on your forehead. “C’mon, qué quires hmm? ¿Qué puedo hacer por ti?”

You shiver at the smooth sensuality of his words but still have the mind to tease him. “Aren’t you the one who distracted me? What do you want?” 

He guides your head to one side, rubbing at the base of your neck in a way that makes you pant. “That requires demonstration. Will you be my volunteer tonight?”

“I’m your volunteer every night,” You quip half heartedly. 

“I never hear any complaints,” His lips brush your ear as he strengthens the pressure of his fingers on your scalp. “Tell me, mi amor. What do you want?”

There’s no turning back now— he’s got you right where he wants you. And there’s no place you’d rather be right now. 

“Just…help me relax a little?” You breathe, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“Mmm. Stay right there for me. Don’t move a muscle, okay?”

“Mhmm,” You hum. A whine slips from your lips when you lose contact with his warmth, but soon he reappears, his hands smoothing up your thighs. 

“Lean back, head against the couch for me.” He watches you comply, grinning as he praises you, “Good girl. Now hips up, these shorts gotta go.”

You raise your hips without any defiance, and he slips them and your panties away, discarding them across the room. You’re nearly trembling with anticipation despite the fact that he’s barely touched you. 

He notices and in typical Joaquin fashion, refuses to breeze past it. Gently, teasingly, he sinks his teeth into your thigh before soothing the spot with a kiss. “I haven’t even started yet, querida and you’re already shaking. I do that to you, hmm?”

“Mhmm,” You hum again, becoming more malleable under his touch with each second that passes.

“Just me. Now, open up,” He murmurs, using his hands to spread you open for him. “There we go, mira qué preciosa.” 

“Quino, mi amor,” You sigh, letting one of your hands drop to card through his silky hair.

The picture you two paint right now is as sensual as it is explicit. Your head thrown back against the couch, legs spread beneath the coffee table to accommodate Joaquin and his touch.

All you can think about is what it would feel like for his mouth to finally be on you. At that  thought, your brow furrows…several moments have passed and you’re still without him. You squirm against him expectantly.

He huffs a laugh, breath warm against where you need him most. “You gonna tell me what you’re wanting?”

“Joaquin,” You murmur, beginning to grow frustrated by his teasing.

“You know how much I love to hear it.” He pauses, lips hovering just inches away from your sensitive skin, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re mine, querida. You know you are.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, his possessiveness only making you ache for him more.

“Touch me, Joaquin. This isn’t very relaxing, I thought I was promised that,” You challenge, tilting your hips up further to try and close the gap yourself. The words come out sharp, but there's a flicker of need in your voice that betrays the frustration of not getting what you want.

“Alright, querida, you got me there. Stay still for me,” He commands, his own blood now burning with desire. 

He starts a slow dance of laying sweet, alternating kisses on the delicate skin of your thighs. You know that he’s done teasing by the focused trail he’s leaving, the way his hands grip you and hold you open more firmly. And then his mouth is on you, tongue flicking gently against your clit. 

Heat pools in your belly, liquid and inescapable. You rest more heavily against the couch as you press up into Joaquin’s mouth, needy and mindless with want. There’s nothing like being at his mercy– he knows all of your spots, the speed and pressure you need to tip over the edge into ecstasy. He always takes care of you, never making you feel less than adored. 

He hums into your pussy, his nose brushing at your clit as his tongue dips lower to lap at your slick with more firmness. The taste nearly drives him into a frenzy, desperate to make you cum again and again for that concentrated taste of you. But he reminds himself that this is for you. This is to melt away your anxieties, to replace all the worry in your brain and body with nothing but pleasure and security.

Even as he increases his intensity, it's still steady with the intent to savor you. You continue to tremble against him, hips falling into a rhythm to match the pace of his tongue. He lingers when he feels your breath catch more sharply or when you whimper, reveling in how responsive you are to his touch.

“Mas, Quino, please,” You plead, your fingers gripping his hair more firmly.

He groans, eyes fluttering at the mix of pleasure and pain he gets from you tugging at his locs. “You sure?” 

He wandyou to be sure because he would be happy to lay here between your legs and serve you for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life if you let him, and god he hopes you’ll let him. 

“Yes. Please. Please, Joaquin.”

“Tranquila, baby, I’ve got you. Just relax, hmm? Let me make you cum on my tongue,” He coaxes softly and at the same time so slowly, he presses a single finger inside of you. 

“God, yes,” You groan, planting one of your feet flat on the ground so that you can buck against him. 

Even with just one of his fingers you feel so full, made to take him and him alone in any way that he’ll give it.

Joaquin’s mouth grows more insistent, and he leans back to get you wetter, spitting on your clit before his tongue glides through your folds. “Yeah? Like that?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, your chest starting to rise and fall frantically.  

“Hips down, honey, let me do all the work. Let me take care of you, okay?”

“But, I need more,” You whine impatiently, hips not stilling. 

“I’ll give it to you. Anything you want, anything you need, I’ll give to you,” He promises, pressing in another finger.

The delicious stretch winds you, the smooth movement of your hips stuttering as you succumb to him feeding your body what it needs. He stops all the teasing, stripping himself of the patience he’d built up so that he can ravage you the way you need. 

He’s as starved as you in the way he eats you out, messy and rushed, his fingers hooking to press incessantly at the sensitive spot inside you, making your legs clench around his head. You and Joaquin worked together seamlessly, the sound of his fingers inside you growing wetter and wetter as he winds you tighter and tighter.

“C’mon, querida, damelo. I can feel you. Let go,” He encourages tenderly in direct opposition of the urgency of his mouth and fingers.

It's all you need to fall over the edge, tumbling and tumbling more deeply into a pool of pleasure. Joaquin doesn’t stop, extending your high. Your hand knots further into his hair, and you pivot up against his tongue, taking all you need from him. Once he’s rung every drop from your body he withdraws his fingers, placing one last adoring kiss to your clit. 

With grace, he maneuvers from between your legs and comes to sit beside you, gathering you in his arms. “How was that? Feeling relaxed?”

“Mhmm, very relaxed,” You lean into him gratefully, feeling floaty.

He drops a kiss on your temple. He strokes your back with slow, comforting motions, a gentle reminder that even after all this, he’s there to hold you—body and soul. “Good, mi amor. Tienes hambre?”

The faint smell of his cologne clings to you as you lean into him, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips.  “Mhmm.”

“Is mhmm all you can manage right now?” He teases.

“Mhmm.”

He laughs with his entire body, shaking the both of you. “Let me get up to get you something alright? Don’t say mhmm.”

“Alright,” You agree through a laugh.

He kisses you one last time before hopping up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Joaquin?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, raising a brow at you playfully, “Mhmm?”

“I love you.”

His face softens, grin goofy and adoring. “Te amo.”

—

“See? I told you you could, mi amor. Don’t doubt my girl or my methods,” He cups your cheek to kiss you breathless before producing the bouquet of flowers he hid behind his back. “I’m so proud of you.”

Your smile is childlike and giddy as you take the flowers from him. Leaning in once more you softly brush your mouth against his. You’re grateful for his presence, his support, his unwavering belief in you. “Gracias, Joaquin. No pude hacerlo sin ti.”

“¿Ah, sí? I’m the secret sauce, baby?” He teases lowly, crowding you against the wall despite being in a S.H.I.E.L.D testing facility.  

You feel your skin start to warm, butterflies breezing through your tummy. 

“You still feel warm, querida.” His voice dips, low and knowing. “Did I work you too hard?”

“You’re the worst.”

“And somehow the best. I can do it all.”

You roll your eyes playfully, pushing him back so that you can start down the hall. 

“We absolutely can’t work together in the field if you’re going to be so brazen,” You muse, studying the perfect bouquet in your hands. 

“Aw, cmon, I thought it would be fun. Let me change your mind,” He calls after you.

“You’ll have to work harder than you did last night to change my mind.”

His grin widens. “Challenge accepted.”

to join the joaquin torres taglist you must be 18+!

joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @moonymeloncholymoney, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuff, @lisiliely, @spider-steve

[mrgoldmc26]

IU's Contract Renewal

Tags: Gangbang, blowbang, spitroasting, airtight, betrayal, bondage, piss play, humiliation, degradation and more...

Word Count: 9.2k

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

With just a little bit over six months remaining on her current contract, today was a big day for IU. It was a quiet Sunday morning, the kind that made the world feel slower, emptier.

After arriving at EDAM Entertainment's building, she stepped out of the car, flanked by her lawyer and bodyguard as they made their way toward the elevator—the familiar routine of a contract renewal settling in her mind.

She thought this would just be another simple contract renewal, but little did she know, it was going to be far from it.

Over the past few weeks, she had asked Bae Jong-han, her manager of fifteen years and also CEO of EDAM Entertainment, for details about the renewal. Usually, he was transparent, walking her through every clause and adjustment. But this time, he had been uncharacteristically vague, offering nothing but polite reassurances.

When she got to the place where the meeting was set to take place, it was empty. It was an office she had been in countless times before. It was spacious, with a large, oval wooden table dominating the center of the room, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lighting. At the far end, directly opposite the entrance, a TV hung on the wall, its black screen blank and unassuming for now. Just beneath it, a wall-mounted safe was embedded into the wall, its digital keypad and sturdy steel door a silent guardian of the valuables that were stored inside. To the right, a door led to a small private bathroom, a convenience she had used more times than she could count during long discussions.

IU exhaled softly, placing her bag on one of the chairs before turning to her lawyer and bodyguard.

"I'm going to do a quick makeup check." She said, making her way to the small bathroom.

Inside, she stood before the mirror, adjusting a stray strand of hair before carefully inspecting her makeup. Everything was in place, but the habit had become second nature—one final check before any important meeting. As she smoothed out the edge of her lipstick, a faint noise came from outside, signaling more people had arrived. Without wasting any more time, she hurried to finish up and stepped out of the bathroom, returning to the office.

Upon her return, she saw none other than Bae Jong-han, the man who had guided her career from the very beginning, standing with the same composed expression he always wore in these contract renewals. Beside him stood EDAM's lawyer, a man in his forties with sharp, observant eyes, and several board members seated at the table, waiting in silence. Near the double doors, on opposite sides, stood two bodyguards—EDAM's on the left, a tall, strong black guy, and IU’s on the right. Both remained still, their presence a silent yet heavy reminder of the power struggle unfolding in the room.

A warm smile broke across IU's face as she approached her longtime friend and manager.

"Jong-han oppa." IU said, as she, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around him in a brief but sincere hug, feeling the familiarity of fifteen years of trust.

"Good to see you, Jieun. Are you ready to get started?"

"I'm not sure. You always tell me details ahead of contract renewals, but this time you didn't say anything."

"Well, there are some changes we want to implement, and I didn't want to address them in private."

"Very well. Let's get started." He said, as he made his way to the TV and turned it on to begin a PowerPoint presentation. IU sat down next to her lawyer, with EDAM's lawyer sitting in front of them.

"Before we go over the contract in detail, I want to give you a brief overview. It's largely the same as before, but we've made some adjustments, particularly on the musical side of things."

"But before we get into that, let's talk about Jieun's acting career very briefly."

"The board is extremely pleased with the results. IU has proven herself as a top-tier actress, and the numbers reflect that. We want her to continue pursuing acting, since it’s a valuable part of her brand, and it's by far what earns us the most money."

IU gave a small nod, a quiet sense of pride settling in. Acting had always been something she cared about, and hearing it acknowledged so positively, even in business terms, felt validating.

"Now, onto the music."

"As you all know, our primary goal over the past few years has been to solidify IU as the top female soloist in Korea."

"I believe we've done a pretty good job with that up until recently. However, there are some new threats."

"Our main threats are these four ladies." He added, showing a picture of each Blackpink member.

"They are obviously the most popular female K-Pop idols in the world, and ever since they have started doing solo activities, their popularity has only gotten bigger. Also, if we add up all of their solo songs, and compare them to their group songs, their solo discography is now bigger than their group discography."

"Because of that, the rest of the company and I believe that IU is no longer the most popular soloist in Korea."

The words stung, and despite her best efforts to remain composed, a flicker of disappointment crossed IU's face. She shifted slightly in her seat, fingers brushing over the fabric of her skirt as if grounding herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard something like this in a business meeting, but that didn’t make it any easier. She had dedicated years to reaching the top, and hearing that her position was slipping, even from a strictly analytical standpoint, left an uneasy feeling settling in her chest.

"Now, that wasn't our only goal. We also believed that it was possible to fight against those K-Pop groups, but that has turned out to be a total failure."

"We are still not bigger than the most popular 3rd gen girl groups, like Blackpink, Twice and Red Velvet. And now, not only we have been overtaken by almost all the biggest 4th gen girl groups, but also by some of the 5th gen girl groups. This cannot happen! It's unacceptable!"

"These groups are known all around the world, but you...Jieun...you are only known in Korea, and we need to change that."

"Your songs are just not good enough." He added, as IU's disappointment only grew more apparent, the words hitting her like a stab to the chest.

"But do not fear...I've got a solution."

"Jieun...you might not like this, but...the company and I believe you should change your concept, and approach a more main stream vibe."

"We believe that you should try a Pop-Rock concept. It's very popular in the West."

"What? No! That would be selling my soul to the devil. I will not do it. I don't care about numbers, or views. I care about my fans and what is real to me."

"I was afraid you would say that, but I got another solution..."

"How about we change the way you dress?"

"I don't wanna bring them up again, but Blackpink has been wearing less and less clothes lately, and it seems to be working. Also, girls like Wonyoung have been showing up a whole lot more skin lately, and it's been driving everyone insane."

"Bae Jong-han...are you serious right now? How could you? This has to be a joke, right?"

"We are not joking. The industry has changed, and we need change...we need YOU to change. Our numbers are horrible right now, and we need to do something about it."

"I can't believe you would suggest those things...change my concept and dress like a slut? No chance."

"Jieun...you have no other options. We got the final saying."

"No, I refuse to believe that. I'm not signing anything right now. We'll see you next week." She said, a tear running down her face as she rushed out of the office, followed by her bodyguard and her lawyer.

IU was furious, sad and disappointed. She couldn't believe her CEO, but most importantly her manager and long time friend would suggest those things. IU knew the numbers were bad, and she wanted to do everything in her power to fix them, but not by compromising her values.

She spent the next week locked in her apartment with her lawyer, reading the new proposed contract and going over her current contract to try and find something she could use to make her way out of it. After going through both contracts a thousand times, her lawyer told her there was no way out.

IU couldn't believe it, and she refused to accept her fate. She called her manager over and over again, begging him, pleading with him to change the contract, but he wasn't having it. Desperation turned to anger, and she finally snapped, firing him right then and there over the phone, her voice sharp and unwavering. Yet his reaction was as indifferent as ever, unbothered and almost amused, as if he had expected this all along.

By the time Sunday arrived, IU had barely slept the night before. No matter how many times she went over the possibilities, they all led back to the same cold, hard truth—there was no easy way out. Still, she refused to let them win.

Around 11 AM, she arrived at the building, her bodyguard walking beside her in silence, whilst her lawyer carried a folder filled with notes from the past week. Last time, she had stepped through these doors feeling hopeful, even relaxed, trusting that they would find a solution. Now, that hope was gone. Her chest was tight, her jaw clenched, and every step felt heavier than the last. There was no more room for wishful thinking. Just quiet, unwavering determination to protect her image and the creative freedom she had spent years fighting for.

As they entered the conference room, IU immediately saw that something was different. Last time, she had been the first to arrive, left waiting while they made her stew in uncertainty, but this time around, they were already there. However, unlike before, the rest of the board members were nowhere to be seen.

Bae Jong-han sat comfortably at the head of the table, with his lawyer beside him and his own bodyguard standing near the door. There was no act of concern this time around. Just a smug expression as he leaned back in his chair, watching her like he had already won.

"Where are the others?"

"Not here. They are not coming."

IU didn’t waste time with greetings. No handshakes, no pleasantries. She simply set her bag down, took her seat, and folded her hands in front of her, meeting his gaze without an ounce of hesitation.

"So, Jieun...are you ready to sign?"

"IU. My name is IU." She said, stopping him from using her real name.

"And no. I refuse to sign the contract."

"What's your plan, then?...IU?..."

"I'm going to run down my contract, and I'll find another company."

"Good luck with that." He said, chuckling at IU's words.

"Tell me, IU...what company do you think is going to take you? Who's going to sign a 31 year-old who's past her prime? Someone who can't compete in streams or views against today's idols?" He said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

"You're irrelevant now, IU. It's not 2017 anymore...you're no longer the industry's golden girl. You don't have the numbers, you don't have the youth, and most importantly, you don't have the power."

"So tell me, who's going to waste their money on you?"

"Let me answer that for you...NOBODY!!!"

"YOU need us just as much as we need you!" He said, slamming his fist on the table.

With IU being the sole artist under EDAM's wing, she was their only real source of revenue. However, from their perspective, her music career wasn’t keeping up with the rapidly changing K-pop landscape. Compared to today’s idols, her Spotify monthly listeners lagged behind, her music videos didn’t rack up views as quickly, and international streaming numbers weren’t what they could be. The company saw a clear solution. If IU abandoned her creative freedom and let them take control, they could reshape her image, Westernize her sound, and push her into the mainstream global market. They knew the potential was there, and if she just played along, the profits could be astronomical.

"What happened? Where is this side coming from?" She asked.

"You were supposed to be my best friend, my manager, my emotional support, and all of a sudden, you've turned into this corporate monster." IU added, her eyes starting to tear up.

"The industry has changed, IU, and so has EDAM."

"We have to adapt, or we'll die, and I won't let us die." He said, his tone sounding like your typical day-to-day CEO of a company, obsessed with numbers, power and control.

"What about us, what about the friendship we had for the past FIFTEEN years?"

"IU...I'm just doing what's best for business. I hope you can understand."

The room went silent for the next couple of minutes, neither side wanting to back down from their positions. From IU's side, it was a matter of protecting her values and her brand. On EDAM's side, it was a matter of optimizing IU, and turning her into the biggest money-making machine as possible.

IU knew he was right. There was no way any company was going to sign her, not at her age. Starting from scratch was a no-go either. She was rich, but not that filthy rich, to create a company from nothing, especially now without her manager.

"Jieun...listen..."

"Don't...don't you dare call me that."

"How important is this for you? To stay true to your roots and to keep your identity as a K-Pop idol?"

"Everything. It...it means everything to me."

"Very well..." He said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out yet another contract.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but..."

"The rest of the board members and I discussed another possibility. One that would allow you to do whatever you wanted, without any pressure from us." He added, tossing the contract onto the large wooden oval table.

"What's the catch?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took his time walking around the table, stopping beside her. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You see...there's something I've wanted from you for a very long time."

"Do I need to say it, or do you know where this is going?" He added, with a sickening grin spread across his face.

"I...I know where this going..." IU responded, her heart practically shattering into a million pieces, and her body feeling disgusted at the thought.

She had heard the stories...so many of them. Trainees who had their dreams dangled in front of them like bait, only to be forced into submission behind closed doors. Idols, some of whom had come to her in confidence, broken and ashamed, whispering about the things they had endured to secure a debut, a comeback, a single opportunity to further their careers and achieve their dreams in an industry that never played fair.

It had scorched her for years, haunted her in ways she never spoke about. Because she knew the truth...she knew it firsthand. Because once, a long time ago, when she was just a girl fighting for a place in this world, it happened to her. And now, after all these years, after everything she had built, everything she had overcome, it was happening again.

She thought those days were long gone. Never in a million years she thought she'd have to go through it again, especially this late into her music career, but she was wrong. It turned out that the industry hadn't changed. It had always been the same, and no matter how much time passed, there was nothing people could do to stop the monsters that lurked within it.

"Is this really the only way?"

"Yes...that is what the board wants. They want to see you, in ALL your glory." He said, moving behind her and rubbing his hands on her nude, cold shoulders.

"But they're not here."

"But the camera is." He said, pointing at the camera on the corner of the ceiling.

"If you agree, I'll press a button, and they'll be able to watch and listen to EVERYTHING that happens here."

"So that's it? I just need to suck your cock, and I'm free forever?"

"Oh, no. Hell no. No, no, no, IU. You're going to have to do a whole lot more than that."

"The board wants to see you used and humiliated. They want to see you get taken by everyone in this room."

IU's stomach churned, and a wave of nausea rose up inside her. This was not the path she ever wanted to take. IU knew she had other options. She had a way out of this, and yet, somehow, this was still her best option.

"And that is all? If I give you my body, you promise that you will leave my creative freedom alone?"

"If you do this and accept it, you are allowed to do whatever you want with your career from now on. We will never push you to do something you don't want. You will have full control."

Everything that the CEO said beforehand stung like a thousand needles, but that last line was the light at the end of the tunnel. What IU had always wanted. What she thought she had and was suddenly taken away from her for just some more money, at the cost of creative control. She could have it once again, and forever this time. All she had to do was let them have their way with her, and record everything.

"So...do we have a deal?"

"If this is what it takes...then yes. Take me." She said, surrendering her body to him. The CEO's grin only grew bigger, and he didn't hesitate pressing the button and turning on the camera, making sure the red light was on, so that the rest of the board could watch what was about to go down.

"Jieun, are you sure about this?" Her lawyer said.

"Yes. I w-want this...I...I need this."

Before IU could say any more words, she felt a pair of hands grab her neck and push over onto the table. It was the company's black bodyguard, just following orders from his boss. IU's own bodyguard stepped up to protect her, but IU intervened.

"No. Let him."

"Are you sure, miss Lee?"

"Yes...this needs to happen. It's for my future."

Her lawyer and bodyguard watched as IU got put on her knees and got surrounded by the three other men, all eager for her touch and attention.

"C'mon Jieun...take out our cocks and start sucking." He said, loosening the tie around his neck and removing his suit jacket.

"I told you to not call me that. You've lost that privilege." She said, resentment flickering across her face as she dropped his pants and took out his cock.

To her surprise, it was much bigger than she had expected—far larger than any of her past boyfriends. Not that she would ever admit it. She would rather let him fuck her than give him the satisfaction of hearing her say it.

"I can call you whatever the fuck I want. I've waited for this for more than ten years. Ten fucking years, praying that one day you'd turn to me and ask me to fuck you senseless, and here I am, finally getting what I want."

"WHAT I DESERVE!!!" He shouted, stomping his foot on the table.

"Are you going to let me suck your cock or what?! I can't fucking do it if you keep complaining and moving around like a corporate little BITCH." She shouted back, showing the real anger and resentment she was feeling.

"Uhhh, feisty...I like that. Fifteen years together, and this is the first time I've seen this side of you."

Her former manager stayed still, and IU parted her lips. Her mouth had barely opened before it was stuffed with cock. It was hot and throbbing, and she felt his hand tighten around her hair.

"Fuck...I've wanted this for so long."

He gave a satisfied moan and pushed her head deeper, her throat stretching to accommodate his thickness. IU struggled to breathe, her nose pressing against his pubes and the smell of musk invading her nostrils, and the problem was, it was not an unpleasant one.

IU couldn't explain it, but the way his cock stretched her lips and got harder in her mouth, the musky scent filling her senses, and the salty taste of his pre-cum on her tongue sent an unexpected shiver through her body. Despite the anger and frustration burning inside her, she couldn't ignore the way her body responded to it. She could feel her panties getting wetter with each thrust of his hips, and the sight of her own drool trickling down her chin was making her pussy ache with need.

She'd never imagined herself in this position, but there was no denying that it felt good. So good, that despite her best efforts, she couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped her lips as he buried his cock deep inside her throat.

Around her, the other two men dropped their pants to reveal their hard cocks. The lawyer's dick had some decent size to it, but IU's eyes were all over the bodyguards massive black cock. She reached out to grab both of them and stroked them slowly.

"Look at you, doing things so willingly. I didn't have to ask you."

IU ignored him and instead remained focused on the task at hand. Her tongue lapped at the underside of his shaft, and her lips slid up and down his length, her saliva making it slick and easy to glide in and out. He threw his head back, lost in the pleasure of her mouth, and that's when he noticed her lawyer and her bodyguard still watching from the sidelines.

"Hey, you two. Come here. The company wants all of us to use this slut, and that includes both of you."

They looked at each other before looking at IU, as if asking for her permission. She nodded at them and continued sucking off her former manager. IU switched soon after, taking another dick into her mouth and stroking two more as she waited for her lawyer's and bodyguard's cocks.

Just like the company's bodyguard, hers was also packing, but that's something she already knew. When she was on tour, he was her form of stress relief after long shows. Truth be told, it had been a long time since IU had seen his huge dick, as she was on hiatus, due to her acting commitments.

As for her lawyer, he wasn't far behind. She had never seen him naked, and she was quite surprised by the length of his shaft. IU finally found herself surrounded by them and their big cocks. It had been months since the last time she had sex with anyone, so now, to be surrounded by five big dicks, her body couldn't help but respond.

IU needed her creative freedom, and her body needed this...badly!

Her CEO moved behind her, dropping to his knees and lifting her dress, exposing her perky tits. He started to squeeze and grope them, as IU kept switching from one cock to another, constantly trying to give each one an equal amount of attention.

IU's tight skirt was up next. He quickly pulled it down to her knees alongside her underwear, giving him an unobstructed view of her tight pussy and her plump ass. She had an amazing ass, round and juicy, and it looked even better when it was naked and on display. But as much as he liked IU's ass, her pussy had his full attention.

He put his hand between her legs and ran a finger along her slit, causing her to gasp and her entire body to shiver. IU's pussy was beyond soaked. She was dripping, and he could feel her wetness coating his fingers. He couldn't help but smirk at the knowledge that despite all her protests, IU was secretly enjoying this.

"Fucking slut. Look at this." He said, bringing his fingers up and showing them to her.

"You are enjoying this, I knew it."

IU looked at his fingers and couldn't help but smile around the cock in her mouth. She hated the way her body was betraying her, and yet, there was something incredibly arousing about being the center of attention and getting pleasured by five men at the same time.

He rubbed her clit a couple more times, and then plunged a finger deep inside her, pumping it in and out, causing her body to jerk and her moans to increase. Her pussy was tight and wet, and the sounds of his fingers moving inside her were intoxicating.

"Do you have nothing to say, Jieun?"

IU stopped bobbing her head around the cock in her mouth and let it drop from her lips, before tilting her head to the side and glancing over her shoulder at him, her eyes burning with lust and her chest rising and falling as she panted for air.

"Shut up and just fuck me already."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt his hands on her back, pushing her forward. IU used her hands to soften the impact, and she found herself on all fours, ass raised and exposed, her face hovering just inches from her bodyguard's cock.

"Do it...fuck my face. It's not like you haven't done it before."

"Are you sure, miss Lee?"

"Yes...make me gag on it."

IU could tell her bodyguard was still feeling a bit guilty, but his urges won over, and he grabbed a hold of her head. She felt him guide her towards his shaft, and she parted her lips to welcome it inside her warm and inviting mouth.

"Wait, what? You seriously let him fuck you before me?" Her former manager said, furious that she had let her own bodyguard have her before him, the man who had spent years supporting her.

"That's none of your fucking business." IU said, after pulling away from the dick in her mouth.

She grabbed his length and slapped it on her tongue a few times, before putting his cock back in her mouth.

"You are gonna pay for that, slut." The CEO said.

He didn't waste any time, immediately burying his face between her legs and running his tongue up her slit, lapping up her juices. It had been a long time since she'd had anything inside her pussy, so it was a shock when his tongue entered her and his fingers spread her folds open, sending sparks of pleasure throughout her body.

IU had no idea her pussy could be so sensitive, and her mind went fuzzy as he devoured her. The feeling of his lips and tongue working her clit was incredible, and the sensation of him sucking on her inner lips and flicking his tongue back and forth had her gasping and moaning.

A pool of IU's spit had formed underneath her head, as the lawyers and the bodyguards took turns fucking her face over and over again. She was a drooling mess for their big cocks, and she was having way too much fun taking their lengths down her throat. So much so, that she was caught off guard when her CEO's tongue slipped out of her pussy, only to be replaced by the tip of his cock.

The sensation of him pushing himself inside her, inch by inch, was something that she had almost forgotten what it felt like—to have a cock inside her pussy.

"So fucking tight...just like I thought it would be."

"Can't believe I finally get the chance to fuck the shit out of you."

He gripped her ass and began pounding into her, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room. His thrusts were relentless, and IU found herself struggling to stay focused on the cocks in front of her, the feeling of her CEO's dick pounding into her, and the pleasure that was building deep within her was almost overwhelming, and she started moaning out loudly.

Her moans were muffled by the dick in her mouth, and her pussy tightened around her former manager's cock as she rocked her hips back and forth. Being spitroasted on top of the table and getting passed around like a slut was definitely not on her bingo card when she woke up that morning, but the truth was, she had never felt more alive.

Wanting to hear her moans, her former manager pulled her up by the hair, forcing her back to arch and her tits to bounce freely with each thrust. His hand slid around her waist, and he started playing with her clit, rubbing it and squeezing it between his fingers.

"Oh fuck, yesss. Right there, just like that." She said, throwing her head back in ecstasy.

"You love this, don't you? Admit it. You love getting fucked by five men at the same time." He whispered into her ear.

Whatever game IU was playing, of not wanting to admit it, was long gone—she had lost that game ages ago. There was no more point to keep denying, so she stopped fighting her body and mind. She decided to embrace her true desires, and just enjoy the moment.

"Mmmm hmmm...I love it. I love having five big cocks to play with."

"I want to feel all of your cocks inside me, please." She added, biting her fingernail.

"I knew it. You are nothing but a slut."

"A pathetic whore, standing up for yourself and your stupid creative freedom."

"You should let us fuck you and still let me control your career."

"Never! Just shut up and fuck me. Make me cum on your dick."

IU's wish was exactly what he wanted, so he gave her just that. He slammed his cock deeper inside her and increased the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

The more he fucked her, the harder it was for her to focus on the cocks in her mouth, and she had to let them go, and rest her face on the wooden table, drooling uncontrollably as the CEO slammed into her pussy.

That didn't stop the men from finding an angle in which they could offer their throbbing cocks to IU, and she gladly took them in. Whenever she was slurping on a dick, the others were either stroking their shafts or they were slapping them hard cocks on her messy face.

Her orgasm was building, and she could feel it approaching fast. The sensation of being stuffed full, the feeling of his balls smacking against her clit, and the way he was massaging it had her on the edge of climaxing. She tried to fight it, tried to hold back for as long as she could, but her body betrayed her, and she exploded in ecstasy, her body trembling and her pussy clamping down on the CEO's cock inside her.

"Good fucking slut. I thought I would never see this day...the day you came on my cock." He said, pulling out of her and slapping her ass with all his might, making her jolt slightly and let out a muffled whimper around the cock currently stuffed down her throat.

"I need a fucking rest. You boys have fun with that dumb slut." He added, grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator before sitting down on a chair.

Initially, they behaved like a pack of hyenas, fighting each other to see which one could fuck IU's pussy first, but after arguing in for a while, they came to the conclusion that there was no point in fighting since they were all going to take turns on her.

The company's men were up first, with the lawyer taking her from behind whilst IU slobbered all over the bodyguard's huge black dick. She wrapped her hand around the base of his length and stroked him, as she swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock, making him groan in pleasure.

"Fuckkkk, suck my black cock just like that, bitch. I'm going to fuck the shit out of that ass later on."

IU looked at him and gave him a dirty look, as if she was challenging him to do his worst. She was a bit scared, since it had been ages since the last time she had a cock up her ass, but she was also too far gone in the pleasure to want anything else. She couldn't wait to have his massive black cock stretching her asshole.

The two of them were not holding anything back. They were using her like a fuckdoll, slamming into her over and over, forcing her to gag and choke on the bodyguard's black dick, and making her tits bounce with every thrust. It was the most intense sexual experience she had ever had, and she couldn't get enough of it.

Eventually, they made way for IU's own personnel to use her. Unlike the company's men, they went much slower, taking their time to enjoy her body. They also knew the situation IU was in, only doing this to get what she wanted, so they decided to go easy on her. As much as IU wanted to be taken, she was never going to complain about a little "break".

Being his first time with IU, her lawyer was thrusting in faster than her bodyguard, unable to contain his excitement of finally fucking the most respected soloist in South Korea. Her bodyguard let IU do whatever she wanted to his long, hard cock, and fortunately for him, that was rapid deepthroats, with a little bit of ball sucking mixed in.

Whenever she wasn't impaling her head on his shaft, her hand was taking care of it, sliding up and down on it as her mouth concentrated on his balls, taking them both in her mouth and giving them the attention they deserved.

"Fuckkkk, I love this cock so fucking much."

"Damn...it's been ages since the last time we did this, Miss Lee."

"Don't tell me about it. I need to release an album and go on tour again, so I can have this cock every day, before and after the shows." She said, before going back to worship his massive shaft.

The four guys kept swapping between themselves as they kept spitroasting IU, and they couldn't help but wonder how she was able to take all their dicks over and over again, and still talk and moan as they fucked both of her holes. She was like a machine, never getting tired, no matter how much cock was stuffing her.

IU kept getting pounded and passed around like a slut nonstop, loving every single second of it. The taste of their pre-cum on her tongue and the feeling of their big, thick cocks sliding in and out of her mouth and pussy was intoxicating, and the knowledge that she was bringing these men pleasure with her body was extremely arousing.

"Looks like you're having fun, Jieun...taking cock after cock, huh?" The CEO pointed out, to which IU simply nodded her head the best she could, with her lips sealed tight around her lawyer's cock.

"I can't hear you...I wanna hear you say it."

IU let go of the dick in her mouth before she answered his question.

"I do. I love taking all of your cocks. I need moreeee!" She said, her eyes full lust.

"I'm so glad we are in agreement, Jieun." He said, letting out a laugh, before turning around and making his way to the wall-mounted safe.

At this point, IU no longer cared about him using her real name. All she wanted was to drain their cocks so that she could have the contract that she so badly desired.

"Remember this? So many reunions in this office...you always asked what's inside, and I never told you. You spent several minutes before and after each meeting, trying to crack the code without any success."

"Are you ready to find out what's inside?"

IU, naked and on her knees in the middle of table, with spit running down her chin, simply nodded her head, eager to finally know the contents of the safe.

Her former manager didn't keep her waiting for too long. He entered the passcode and turned the handle, causing the safe door to open. Once opened, he pulled the door fully open, and showed her the content.

From what IU could see, inside the safe there were stacks of money, a bunch of documents, and a gun. However, that wasn't what her CEO was looking for. He reached inside, searching through the contents until his fingers closed around something specific. When he pulled out a thick coil of rope, IU's breath caught in her throat. She knew exactly what was about to happen.

She had never been tied up during sex before, and the thought of being restrained and used entirely for their pleasure sent a shiver down her spine. It was both intriguing and terrifying.

As IU tried to process what was coming, the company's bodyguard suddenly moved her aside, taking her spot where she had been kneeling. He lay down on his back, broad and steady, before he turned to her.

"Come here, bitch."

She obeyed, settling on top of him, her back pressing against his chest. He adjusted her, pulling her higher until her shoulders rested on his, her head hanging back over his shoulder. As for IU's own bodyguard stepped between her legs, waiting for the CEO's next orders.

The CEO handed him the rope, while gripping IU's legs. At the same time, the company's lawyers took hold of her arms, forcing them against her legs.

"Tie her up like this."

Her bodyguard hesitated for a split second before nodding.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lee."

"It's okay. I want this. Trust me."

Even with her reassurance, guilt flickered across his face. He made sure to tie the knots just loose enough to keep her comfortable, but still tight enough to keep her restrained.

When he was finished, the others slowly let go, leaving IU bound and immobilized, her limbs tightly secured, with only the strength of her muscles and the rope keeping her restrained.

The CEO placed himself in front of her and started to stroke his hard cock inches away from her face, whilst he played with her tits with his other.

"Are you ready Jieun?"

"Yes. Shove those big dicks inside me and pump me full of cum."

"My holes are yours to use and play with."

There was no more hesitation in IU's. There was no hole of hers that was off limits. She was bound and helpless, completely at their mercy, and she loved it.

With a grin on his face, the CEO pressed the tip of his cock against her lips, and they parted instantly, welcoming his shaft inside. As her tongue ran along his length, he started thrusting in and out of her mouth.

As for the bodyguards, they each grabbed hold of their shafts and pressed them against IU's respective holes, before slowly sliding them inside her, one inch at a time. Even with a cock down her throat, a loud moan could still be heard, as she felt the sensation of her pussy and asshole being filled with their thick shafts.

They started off slowly, savoring the moment and letting IU adjust to having their big cocks inside her. With her legs tied and her hands secured, there was no way for her to move or to guide their pace, so she was completely at their mercy, forced to lay there and take whatever they had to offer.

After a couple of minutes, they picked up the pace, and unsurprisingly out of the two bodyguards, it was IU's who was fucking her slowest, taking his time with her and making sure she was comfortable.

As much as IU loved having her bodyguard treating her like a delicate flower, she wanted more. She needed him to fuck her pussy harder and make her scream. But she couldn't speak, not when her throat was currently filled with a huge cock.

Her former manager was giving her no quarter, pounding her throat hard. He was thrusting in and out of her, filling her mouth with his length, and causing her to choke and gag on his cock.

"Look at you, taking these cocks so well. I should've done this sooner." He said, putting one hand on her breast and pinching her nipple.

Her other nipple was not getting any less attention. The company's bodyguard had his hand wrapped around it and was twisting it hard, making IU gasp sharply before letting out a muffled moan. He had his other hand around her waist, holding her still as he fucked her tight asshole with his big black cock.

"You are such an anal slut, taking my black dick like that."

"I'm going to fuck it hard until I cum deep inside it."

"Gonna make sure you won't be able to walk for a whole week after I'm done with you."

These weren't just words being thrown around—he was dead serious. The guy was relentless, using her body however he wanted, thrusting in and out of her ass with authority and claiming her asshole for himself.

The two lawyers were the only ones left without a place to put their cocks, so they decided to join the CEO, kneeling next to IU's head so that they could slap their hard cocks across her face. They were enjoying the view in front of them, seeing an airtight bound IU being used like a whore.

IU had been double penetrated a handful of times before, but not with cocks as big as these. She could feel their lengths sliding in and out of her holes, filling her up and stretching her to new limits. It was an incredible feeling, one that had her moaning around the dick currently stuffed down her throat.

"Are you enjoying this Jieun?" The CEO asked, obviously not getting an answer.

"Don't you know it's rude not to reply?" He added, pulling his cock out of her mouth.

Before IU could respond, his cock was already back inside her mouth, hitting the back of her throat a couple of times, before pulling it out once more, this time to slap her in the face.

"Answer me, Jieun."

"Mmmm, I'm enjoying it...a lot." She replied, her voice barely audible.

She was completely cock drunk, unable to think or process anything besides the sensation of her holes being filled.

"How does it feel, slut? To have a big cock inside each and every single one of your holes?"

"Taking all of them at the same time? ANSWER ME!"

IU took her sweet time, trying to form a sentence in her mind. In her defense, it was kinda hard to come up with anything when she had two massive cocks in her holes, and another two constantly hitting her face, with another one just inches away from her lips.

"Good...it...it feels good. But I want more, though. I need more, please."

"What more can we give you? What the fuck?"

"Your cum. Don't stop using me until you drain those balls inside me."

"And please tell my bodyguard to go as hard as he can."

"Fuck...you are nothing but a dumb, cockhungry slut."

"You heard her, big fella. Go wild on that pussy and make her scream." He said, slapping IU's bodyguard on the shoulder.

IU's bodyguard shot the CEO a sharp glare, his expression making it clear he didn’t appreciate the slap on his shoulder, or being ordered around. But then his gaze dropped to IU, her body trembling, her muffled moans pleading for more. He exhaled sharply through his nose, holding back his displeasure. This wasn’t about the CEO. It was about her. Tightening his grip on her waist, he pushed his frustration aside and focused on giving IU exactly what she wanted—his big cock, deep inside her.

IU let out a sharp gasp as his hips started hammering into her. The sudden force took her by surprise, but the pain quickly morphed into pleasure. His cock was pounding her pussy with the kind of intensity she had never experienced before—not even with him. The noise of their bodies colliding echoed throughout the room, as he repeatedly thrust into her, holding nothing back.

The same thing could be said for CEO and his bodyguard. They were using her like a ragdoll, hammering away at her holes and fucking her brains out, showing her no mercy. IU's body belonged to them, and they were not going to stop until they had drained their balls inside her.

IU was an absolute mess. Her arms and legs ached from being tied up, a dull numbness creeping in as circulation slowed. Sweat coated her entire skin, making her body slick against the one beneath her. With her head hanging upside down, the rush of blood made her feel lightheaded, a dizzy haze settling over her senses. Her neck throbbed from the unnatural angle, but she barely registered the discomfort, too lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

Her pussy and ass were sore, the sensation of her holes being stretched and filled to the brim was borderline unbearable. But at the same time, it was also an addictive feeling, and she couldn't get enough. She didn't care how sore she would be after this experience, all she wanted was to drain their balls dry.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to wait much longer. Her former manager's dick was starting to pulse, the signs that he was close. He had been using her mouth like his personal fleshlight for the past several minutes now, with IU having long lost the ability to lick and suck his shaft properly. The constant throat fucking had not only left her jaw was tired, but had also left her in a complete daze, and she had been reduced to nothing but a tool for him to fuck.

"Do you want my cum, Jieun?" He asked, pulling his cock out of her mouth.

IU tried to reply, but no sound came out. His dick had stolen almost all of her ability to speak, leaving her pretty much incapable of doing anything else besides moaning and groaning around his shaft.

"Well, I hope you're ready, cuz I'm about to fill your slutty little mouth."

He held her head in place and rammed his cock down her throat as fast as he could, hitting the back of it several times, before finally erupting. IU's eyes went wide and a muffled, gagging sound could be heard as she felt the hot spurts of his cum splashing inside her mouth and hitting the back of her throat.

After what seemed like ages, he finally pulled out of her mouth, and IU was left with no other choice but to swallow every last drop of his cum.

"Fuck...I've waited for this moment for longer than you can imagine..."

"Thank you for caring about such a worthless thing, Jieun." He added, getting off the table and stumbling towards a chair.

With the CEO now out of the picture, she thought her mouth would catch a break, but the lawyers had other ideas. Both of them were eager to have their dicks stuffed down any hole of hers, and with her mouth being the only one available, they shoved their cocks inside, forcing her to suck on their shafts at the same time.

It was one thing to have three cocks inside her, but to have four of them...it was something entirely different. It was too much for IU, and even with having an orgasm earlier on, it wasn't long until she reached another climax.

Her bodyguard felt her pussy walls tighten around his dick, her orgasm crashing into her like a tidal wave, and it was enough to push him over the edge. He had dumped his load inside her many times before, but this was different. He was always alone with her in those previous times, and now he was here, cumming inside her as she was being taken and used like a slut by everyone in the room.

IU barely had any time to process that her bodyguard had given her a creampie before she felt another thick load of cum being deposited inside her, this time in her round ass.

"I told you I was going to ruin you and make a mess out of your ass, bitch." He said, pulling his massive black cock out of her asshole.

She had no way to see the damage his big black cock had done, but judging from the feeling, she knew her asshole was gaping and stretched wide open. Her bodyguard had the perfect view, and even he was shocked by seeing IU's gaping asshole, and the cum dripping out of it.

With the bodyguards done with her holes, they decided to pull her to the side and untie her. As soon as they did so, IU's limbs came crashing down, and they were so numb that she barely had the strength to move them. She lay there motionless, her entire body aching and stinging, the ache settling deep into her bones.

However, that wasn't stopping her from having more. Despite everything, her desire was still burning, and she wanted more cocks, more cum, and most importantly, the contract.

"Cum...please..."

It was all she could say, and the lawyers didn't need more convincing. They moved IU and placed her on her knees, on top of the table. She was so out of it, that her head just kept falling forward, and her own lawyer had to grab it, or else they would just have to be pleased with covering her hair in their seed.

Neither of them wanted that, and neither did IU. Her face might've said otherwise, but she was eager to get their loads plastered all over her face, and they were excitedly stroking their shafts, getting ready to give her the facial of her life.

IU could barely see the outlines of the cocks that were now jerking off in front of her, but that didn't stop her from sticking out her tongue and opening her mouth wide, begging for their cum.

It was a matter of seconds before their cocks exploded at the same time, and she felt their warm cum being splattered across her face. They shot load after load of their cum all over her pretty face, covering it completely.

She looked unrecognizable. IU's hair was messy, her body was covered in sweat, and now her face was covered in multiple layers of cum, with most of it dripping down her chin. Her lawyer let go of her head, and she collapsed face first on the wooden table.

The CEO, already with his clothes back on, picked up the contract and signed it, before tossing it on the table once again.

"Hope it was worth it, Jieun."

"And don't forget to clean this mess." He added, instructing everyone to leave the room, including IU's men.

IU heard the sound of the doors being closed, and she was now alone in the room. After the intense experience she had just gone through, her brain was still struggling to process anything. Her head was spinning, and the taste of their cum was still present in her mouth, the scent lingering in her nostrils.

For the next fifteen minutes, IU didn’t move. She lay there, sprawled out on the table, her naked body sticky with sweat and cum, cooling rapidly in the empty room. The silence felt deafening, broken only by her slow, shallow breaths. A shiver ran down her spine as the cold air pricked at her damp skin, making her long for the warmth of a bath, the feeling of hot water washing away every trace of what had just happened.

Her thoughts were sluggish, drifting in and out, until the faint sound of the doors opening pulled her back. She could hear footsteps, but her vision was still blurry, and she couldn't make out who was walking into the room.

"You're still here? I thought you would have left by now." The CEO said.

"Don't mind me. Just using the bathroom. Gotta take a quick piss."

"No, s-stop..."

The CEO did stop in his tracks, not because of what she said, but mostly because he couldn't hear what was coming out of her mouth, her voice so low that it was barely audible.

"Use me...use me as your personal toilet."

He couldn't believe it. IU already had the contract and here she was, still asking for more, her mind undoubtedly broken beyond repair from the experience.

The CEO didn't waste any time, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. With one hand on his dick and the other on the back of her head, he lowered his cock towards her face, and let go. His warm piss started spraying out, covering IU's face, and then slowly running down her forehead and onto her eyes and nose.

Wanting to humiliate even further, he stood up and started pissing all over her naked body, coating it in his piss. Her skin turned golden under the yellow stream, his hot piss splashing down her tits and stomach. It was the ultimate humiliation, the final degradation.

IU didn't know what had come over her, but the idea of being used and degraded by this man, who was once her best friend, was so incredibly hot.

"You really are no different from all the other sluts in this industry."

He spat on her face and zipped up his pants. He took one last look at IU, laying there motionless, her naked body soaked in sweat, cum and his piss.

"What a fucking whore."

He walked away, and once again, the doors were shut, leaving her alone. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for IU. She had no idea how she was going to get herself out of this, but right now, she couldn't even bring herself to think about it. She was exhausted, her limbs felt like lead and her muscles were on fire. Her body was aching and begging for relief.

As IU lay there, a single tear rolled down her cheek. She was overwhelmed, her body wracked with emotion, the weight of everything she had just done crashing down on her. It was too much...too much.

But even then, even as she cried and sobbed, a part of her didn't regret any of it. The contract was hers and even though her dignity had been stripped from her, and her body was completely and utterly ruined, she couldn't deny that the feeling of having cum in all her holes, her face, and the CEO pissing all over her was so incredibly satisfying, to the point where she was already looking forward to the next meeting.

[navybrat817]

This man. This gif!

Take Them Off

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky just wants to read. You have other ideas.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smut, teasing, slight possessive behavior, dirty talk, mentions of spanking and fingering, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another quickie, but I hope you lovelies. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t ask for a lot. In fact, all he wanted to do today was finish his book and not move from his chair. Very simple, and he should’ve known you would take it as a challenge.

Since he said he didn’t want to move from his chair, you decided to tease him and strut around the place in just your underwear as you did chores. And not just any pair of underwear. You had a pair specially made that had “Property of Bucky Barnes” written on the front and back. He was hard and aching for what felt like hours thanks to you.

He could admit it was fun when you teased him, but he could only take so much.

“Take them off.”

Three simple words. All you had to do was listen. Bucky sure as hell put enough authority in his voice, and he knew damned well you heard him since you looked over your shoulder with a playful smirk.

“What was that?” you asked, toying with the band of your underwear. “You want me to take these off?”

He exhaled slowly and gripped the arms of his chair. It was an impressive feat that he hadn’t done any damage to the furniture. “Yeah. Take them off. Now.”

You pretended to think about it. “Or what?”

Bucky snarled when you darted just out of his reach and had the audacity to shake your ass at him, which only made you smirk more. Whenever you got close to him, you moved away with a giggle. Both of you knew he could catch you if he wanted to, and he would, but he was trying his best not to leave his chair.

But once you got close enough, he’d put you over his knee. Maybe spank you. Maybe yank that special pair of underwear down and fuck you with his fingers until you came all over them, only after you begged for it. And after a little edging for all the teasing.

The question was if he wanted to fuck you with his metal fingers or not.

“Or I’ll cut them off,” he threatened.

You faced him as you played with the band again, his cock ready to burst from his pants when you pulled them down enough to show him your mound. Just as quickly as you pulled them down, you pulled them back up. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You drive me crazy,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. His scalp tingled at the thought of you pulling on the long strands. A very good kind of pain.

“And you love me for it,” you smiled.

His gaze momentarily softened. You were the light of his life, always. “I do. Very much,” he swore, brandishing a knife from his pocket and twirling it for you to see. “And maybe I can turn that threat into a promise if you get over here.”

You gasped and he didn’t have to look between your legs to know there was a wet patch on the fabric. “Is this the part where I go ‘is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me’, Barnes? Or are you planning to stab me with your dick?”

His blue eyes darkened when you took a step closer. As much as he wanted to put you over his knee, he also wanted to lavish your gorgeous breasts with the attention they deserved. “I’m going to destroy all of your holes tonight, and I might just fuck your pussy last,” he said, going in for the kill. “Or maybe I won’t fuck your pussy at all since you’re a fucking tease.”

He wanted to smirk when you narrowed your eyes and took two steps closer. Close enough for him to grab you. “A tease doesn’t back up their words and you know damned well I always-”

Careful not to cut you because he’d never hurt you, he gripped your wrist and chuckled when he yanked you over the armrest. “Follow through. I know, baby. I know.”

He half expected you to squirm or struggle, but you only moaned when brought the blade to your hip. He saw you rub your thighs together. The teasing had worked you up, too. Good. “Are you really going to cut these off?” you pouted.

He sank his teeth into his lip when he read the words along your ass. It would be a shame to destroy them since he was already going to destroy what was underneath. “Maybe, maybe not,” he mused, grazing the blade along your skin to make you shiver. “I’ll think it over while I finish my book.”

You tensed up and slowly turned your head. “You’re still going to finish your book? Are you kidding me?” The fire in your eyes almost made him lose his cool, but he used to be the Winter Soldier. He didn’t break so easily.

“You knew that was my plan today. Not my fault the sight of me gets you hot and bothered,” he smiled, rolling his hips up so you could feel just how hard he was in his pants. To be fair, the sight of you did the same thing to him. “So sit tight, get comfortable, and we’ll see if you can figure out which hole I’m fucking first.”

Because if you got to tease him, he got to tease you, too.

Once again, nothing to see here, lovelies! Go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ariichive]

JEALOUSY☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

jealous scenarios ft. phainon, anaxa, and mydei!

gen. neutral reader

cw: anaxa is kinda crazy he puts his gun to reader, possessiveness, mentions of violence, fluff, not proofread im so tired :')

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

phainon

phainon was one to pride himself on his natural charm, he was a very easy going guy. the stark contrast between him in battle and off was admirable.

though as much as he hates to admit it, sometimes the warrior takes over his instincts. for instance, right now as he watched the droma’s caretaker openly flirt with you.

it wasn’t just the flirting—though that was annoying enough—it was the way you laughed, the way your eyes softened, the way you didn’t immediately pull away. phainon knew you weren’t his, not in the way that would justify this sudden surge of possessiveness. but logic had never been good at taming instinct.

his fingers twitched at his side, an old habit from years of battle. the part of him that thrived in combat, the part that didn’t hesitate when faced with a challenge, whispered at him to act. it would be so easy to step in, to slide an arm around your waist, to make it clear to everyone in the room—especially to the man standing too close—that you weren’t available.

but that wasn’t his place. not yet, at least. so instead, he forced himself to take a breath, to unclench his fists, to remind himself that he was phainon—charming, laid-back, not the type to pick a fight over something so trivial.

“phainon, this one likes me!”

his stoic expression softened when he realized, in fact, you were talking about the loving dromas and not that man.

phainon smiled gently at your joy, “i can tell, he sure does like you a lot!”

there was a certain edge to his voice that could’ve been missed by onlookers. you gave him a concerned glance, one which he smiled at and didn’t question further.

and yet, when the caretaker let out another laugh, explaining the most basic knowledge of dromas ever, his hand brushing against yours, phainon found himself smiling again. it wasn’t a friendly smile.

“having fun?” he asked, voice smooth but carrying an edge beneath it as he finally approached the two of you.

“yeah—!” you were quick to respond only to look up at phainon and realize his attention wasn’t on you. “phainon..”

“yes my lovely spouse, who i treasure more than any riches and i’d also kill for?” now his attention was focused on you, his smile bittersweet.

the thing with phainon is whenever he looked at you, there was always such intensity.

“don’t start, i’m okay i promise.”

there was a joking tilt to your voice, but it was enough to calm him down.

“now, come over and feed the dromases with me! this one’s name is castor, very sweet we should take him home!”

phainon let out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "my love, as much as i would adore bringing castor home, i fear he would not fit through our door."

you laughed, reaching out to pet the dromas, who nuzzled into your touch affectionately. "we could make it work," you teased, "build a bigger door, you're strong enough. or, you know, just let him live in our backyard."

phainon hummed in thought, stepping closer until he was right beside you. "tempting," he mused, reaching out to pet castor. "but then i’d have to compete for your affection, and i don’t think my heart could take it."

you rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. "oh, please. you already know you’re my favorite."

his grin softened into something more genuine, his blue eyes filled with something tender. "good. because my dearest, you are mine." phainon swears the dromas narrowed its eyes at him (the caretaker did too but phainon was too busy enjoying the memoment with you to get mad all over again).

you burst into laughter as the dromas let out a soft sound, clearly pleased with itself. "maybe if you were as cute as them, you’d stand a chance."

phainon clutched his chest. "wounded. utterly wounded."

but despite his theatrics, he leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours as you both continued to feed the dromases together, the warmth between you as steady as ever.

...

"y'know, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to take one home, then we wouldn't have to come back here. i can't believe that vile man had the nerve to even look at you..!"

"phainon, my dear, we are not actually going to take one home."

"...i like the name kevin, wouldn't you agree, [name]?"

the rest of the day was spent with phainon in your ear.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

anaxa

the carefully crafted lunched in your hands was the least of your worries as a soft click was heard from behind you followed by a pressure being applied to the back of your head.

just to think; you went out of your way to bring lunch to your oh-so-kind boyfriend and this is how he greets you?

you would say you're surprised but... this isn't the first time something like this has happened.

"do tell me, what's the foul mood for now?"

he didn't appreciate the snarky comment as a the gun pushed against your head even more.

"my [name], you seemed to enjoy yourself outside with that man. would i be correct to assume so?"

so this is what he's mad about.

you exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. "if you must know, i was just making conversation. you know, something normal people do?"

the gun pressed harder against your skull in response, the warning clear. anaxa hated being mocked.

"careful," he murmured, voice quieter now, more dangerous. "i'm already being generous by allowing you to explain yourself. do not test my patience."

you tilted your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. his expression was unreadable, but his grip on the gun was steady—too steady.

"allowing me to explain myself?" you echoed, amusement creeping into your tone. "and here i thought my oh-so-loving boyfriend would trust me a little more by now."

anaxa exhaled sharply through his nose, but he said nothing. the silence stretched between you for a few moments before the pressure at the back of your head finally disappeared.

anaxa let out a low hum, his voice smooth yet laced with something sharp—jealousy, possessiveness, something only he could wield so effortlessly. "you know how i feel about you entertaining the company of other men," he said, tilting his head slightly. "and yet, there you were, laughing as if you had no care in the world."

you sigh, "i promise you it was a very brief interaction. i even told him i was visiting you for lunch."

anaxa looked away in faux annoyance as he gently took the lunch from your hands.

"thank you, [name]." anaxa was genuine in his thanks, he understood how troublesome it could be to reach him in the grove of epiphany.

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "i'd say 'you're welcome,' but i'm not sure you deserve it after that stunt."

he sighed dramatically, setting the lunch down on his desk before taking a seat. his movements were as measured as ever, graceful even in something as simple as this. "you wound me, truly," he drawled, undoing the buttons of his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. "but i suppose my cruelty knows no bounds, does it? threatening my beloved over something as insignificant as a passing interaction."

"so you admit it was ridiculous?" you quirked a brow, leaning against the edge of his desk.

anaxa leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you with a gaze so heavy it felt like an unseen weight pressing against you. "i admit nothing," he corrected, voice as smooth as ever. "but even the most brilliant minds are prone to… lapses in judgment."

you let out a small scoff, shaking your head. "right. 'lapses in judgment.' is that what we're calling your absurd jealousy now?"

he exhaled through his nose, as if considering your words, before finally opening the meal you had brought him. "call it whatever you like, my dear," he said idly, plucking a piece of food with deliberate ease. "but tell me, if i were to flirt so freely with another, would you be so composed?"

your mouth opened, but the words died on your tongue. anaxa watched your hesitation with something akin to satisfaction, his smirk deepening ever so slightly.

"i thought as much," he said smoothly, taking a slow, deliberate bite of his food. "jealousy, my dear, is a universal affliction. i am simply more… expressive about mine."

you huffed, looking away, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "you're insufferable and lucky i have the patience for you," you muttered.

he let out a soft chuckle, low and indulgent. "patience," he mused, reaching out to brush a gloved finger against your cheek, slow and deliberate. "such a rare and commendable virtue. though i must wonder..."

his touch trailed lower, tracing the curve of your jaw before finally resting under your chin. with the lightest pressure, he tilted your face ever so slightly upward, forcing you to hold his gaze.

"how much longer will that patience last, i wonder?"

you swallowed, refusing to look away. "depends," you said, barely above a breath. "how many more times do you plan on pulling a gun on me?"

anaxa’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, but his eyes flickered with something softer—something dangerously close to fondness.

"ah," he sighed dramatically, finally releasing you and leaning back into his chair. "a fair question. but, my dear, you wound me. surely you know by now that i only threaten the things i cannot bear to lose?"

you stared at him, feeling both shocked and flustered.

you huffed, shaking your head as you finally relented, letting the conversation settle into something resembling peace. and despite everything—despite his absurd possessiveness, his impossible nature, his maddeningly smug demeanor—you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

because somehow, against all logic, against every ounce of reason—anaxa was yours. and that was something even he, with all his sharp words and sharper wit, could never deny.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

mydei

mydei always found himself in petty competitions with phainon. whether it was who could pick the most apples to who could slay the most enemies, phainon always knew how to push his buttons.

though he might’ve pushed them a little too far..

“afraid you’ll lose? i would’ve never guessed that the great mydeimos was scared of talking to a girl. or are you scared [name] will end up liking me more?”

“deliverer,” mydei said with a scary amount of joy in his voice, “tell me, do you enjoy being humiliated by a kremnoan heir?”

“so is it a deal?”

“if that’s what you wish to call it, we’ll start now. try not to make an utter fool out of yourself. you won't even be able to touch them."

there was absolutely no way mydei was going to even let phainon breathe the same air as you.

phainon grinned, entirely unfazed by mydei’s sharp tone. “oh? possessive already? my, my, what will [name] think of this? surely they've noticed your crush on them by now.”

mydei exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. “they will think nothing of it because you will not get the opportunity to so much as look at them.”

phainon laughed, tilting his head with an almost lazy confidence. “bold words. i wonder if you’ll still be saying that once they’re hanging off my arm instead.”

the barely restrained fury in mydei’s eyes was almost comical. “you delude yourself.”

“and you’re stalling.” phainon shrugged, already turning on his heel. “come now, mydeimos. unless, of course, you are afraid?”

mydei scoffed, stepping forward with an air of unwavering confidence. “i fear nothing—least of all a fool with an overinflated ego.”

the competition had begun.

mydei was the first to find you. he's always remembered the places you often frequented, the bathhouse being common among them.

mydei found you tucked away in one of the quieter corners of the bathhouse, steam curling through the air in delicate wisps. he approached silently, his footsteps barely making a sound against the stone floor.

he had always been observant—perhaps more than you'd realized. no matter how much time passed, he never forgot the places you sought comfort in.

"i thought i'd find you here," he murmured, his voice low and steady, cutting through the gentle trickle of water. "it's peaceful here," you said softly, returning your gaze to the water, watching a rubber duck float by.

after a long moment, you glanced at him, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

"you always find me."

mydei's crimson eyes softened, a rare hint of fondness breaking through his composed exterior.

"of course," he said quietly. "you're worth finding."

mydei had a huge advantage over phainon; everything that came out of his mouth was genuine.

you felt your body heat amplifying from his intense gaze, the steam from the bath worsening your situation.

the air between you two felt thick with unspoken words, the steam in the room only adding to the intensity. mydei’s crimson eyes were locked onto you with an unwavering focus, as if trying to read something deeper than just your expressions.

“you know, you really don’t make this easy,” you muttered, trying to divert your thoughts, the heat rising in your chest feeling like it might burst through your skin.

he raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving yours. "make what easy?"

you shifted uncomfortably, the faintest of blush creeping onto your cheeks. “this... this tension.”

mydei tilted his head slightly, the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. “tension?” he repeated, his voice smooth and calculated. “i’m simply speaking the truth.”

you shot him a glance, his words echoing in your mind. you’re worth finding.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard him say such things before, but this time, it felt different. There was no teasing, no veiled sarcasm—just the raw sincerity that mydei rarely offered.

“you never do anything half-heartedly, do you?” you said, a small sigh escaping your lips.

mydei didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence looming like a silent promise. His gaze softened as he spoke, but there was still a quiet intensity behind it.

"only when it’s worth it," he said, his voice almost a whisper, but it still hit you like a wave.

your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

he moment hung between you two, the weight of his words settling deep within you. mydei’s presence was suffocating in the best way—an intensity that seemed to radiate from him, the kind that made it impossible to think of anything else but him.

you opened your mouth, but the words stuck. something about his steady gaze and the closeness between you left you speechless, your heart thudding in your chest.

“mydei…” you whispered, almost as if testing the air, "would you like to join me in the bath? i'm sue it'll help relieve any sores you might have?"

mydei's gaze flickered to you, and for a brief moment, the quiet intensity in his eyes softened, replaced by a curious, almost amused glint. he took a step closer, the space between you two shrinking even more.

“you offer me company in the bath?” he asked, his voice holding a hint of surprise. “how… bold.”

you could hear the teasing undertone in his words, but it wasn’t as biting as usual. there was something more… tender in the way he spoke, something that made your heart flutter despite the calmness of the moment.

“i only thought it might help you relax,” you replied, keeping your tone light, though your pulse quickened slightly under his steady gaze. “and you’re always so tense. even the crown prince needs to rest now and then.”

mydei let out a quiet chuckle at that, the sound warm and soft, like the fleeting warmth of the bath. "i’m afraid i’ve never had much time for relaxation," he murmured, his tone shifting again, darker, but with an edge of something more vulnerable. "but perhaps you’re right. it’s been... a long time since i allowed myself the luxury."

there was a pause, and you could see the weight of his words settle over him, like he’d just made a decision. his eyes softened, and he took another step closer, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he gently took your hand.

"then, i’ll join you. for once, perhaps i could allow myself this."

as mydei settled comfortably next to you in the bath, he couldn't help but wonder where phainon had been all this time.

and there was a small voice in the back of his head, saying 'if phainon found you first, would you have invited him into the bath with you?'

he glanced sideways at you, his gaze unreadable for a brief moment as he tried to suppress the discomfort he felt at the idea.

as he took in your relaxed face, mydei realized how important such moments were to the two of you. this was just the start of many more scenarios he would spend with you.

if you enjoyed please consider following/liking/reblogging :)

i just love the idea of unhinged anaxa

[tojisteddy]

Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader

You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.

It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.

He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.

Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,

“But this is what my ex-“

“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”

Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.

He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.

But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.

“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.

It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.

More sins against God.

There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.

“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”

Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.

And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.

It would cleanse the soul.

“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.

Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.

“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”

You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”

You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.

“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.

“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.

“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.

“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”

You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”

He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.

“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.

“Take what you need babygirl.”

Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.

“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”

“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.

“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”

“But—“

“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.

The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.

You’d work on that too.

Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.

“Good fuckin job, mama.”

a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs

most recent masterlist

[justaghostwithbones]

This is so beautifully articulated. I alternate between sprinting forward to moonwalking back… sometimes years. Sometimes I take up residence in that bygone time, and wallow in trying to change it, while imaging I don’t know how that storyline tragically ends. Sometimes I sprint forward then; start building the blocks of the life that I want. I’ll get it partially built… and then… and then… and then… I’m back in the past again, somewhere else this time. Trying to prevent a different moral crime.

But for just about a month now, I’ve held still (with a moment or two of those springs to half-build things; though instead of running backward, I just pause). I’m learning to crawl. I’m building those skills.

(CW: death, grief, suicide, animal death)

Something I’ve learned, so painfully, through so many genuine tragedies—the death of my little family: first my husband of almost ten years… then the first dog we adopted together (and even the people who hate it when others compare human children to pets would fully vouch for the fact that I showed my guys more love and sacrificed more for them than many human parents of human kids), who died spontaneously in my arms from a condition that couldn’t be screened for. He didn’t suffer, it was fast. I wailed when I felt his last breath. I had never felt something die before and it rewrote some of my DNA. I never wanted to outlive my dogs, and I couldn’t believe I had to. I had these primal screams of rage at “God” for everything I had already lost, but my baby deserved peace from me, even if he wasn’t really “there” at the moment, so I swallowed my rage and I held him for over an hour. Talking about everything he was and everything he meant and all of the people he had inspired with his spunky personality as a rescued dog who had done some time in the streets. I pressed my forehead against the top of his head and health my breath, unable to accept he was gone. I listened to songs with his fuzzy, sweet body cradled close to me while I kissed his face.

His “big” brother, whom we adopted a year later than our first guy, but was triple his size deteriorated quickly, and after torturing myself with data and research, I looked into his eyes one day and knew that he was asking me for help. He’d been to veterinary specialists several times in the previous few months, but there was nothing any of them could do for him. It was just age. He was a large breed dog who was at least 14. They kept telling me I couldn’t have done more. I knew the only help I could give him was to let him go. So I made an appointment and planned for him to pass peacefully under a tree my late-husband planted. I took him to the place where my husband and I got married. I gave him all of the carbs he wanted (once he got into the double digits, he felt he earned the right to snag food, and he never met a piece of bread he didn’t love). I took pictures of him against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains in the summer. I slept on my husband’s side of the bed (because he slept in a raised bed my husband built for him there), so I could pet him all night, every night I still had him. That gold-hearted guy ended up passing two days before this wonderful vet service was scheduled to come to my house… he still couldn’t fully let go, so they made an emergency visit, and he ultimately died in my arms on my late-husband’s side of the bed, after a couple hours of me laying with him and telling him stories and playing him songs and mapping out his irises like they would be my compass, because I had to no idea how to navigate life without his protective instincts. Because I didn’t know if my bones had another loss in them. I silently begged for his wisdom and felt so selfish for not being able to stop time and reverse biology and get more time with him. He loved my husband much more than he loved me, in the beginning, and there was some real poetic beauty in where he chose to let go—he didn’t get up on the bed regularly at that point; he hadn’t for years. But for a couple hours, I got to thank him out loud for everything that I could remember to say out loud. He licked tears off my face. His tail wagged when my mom arrived. I whispered to him until I felt his heart stop, and continued after.

In under 2.5 years, I lost my husband, my career, my health (I still am not allowed to work due to my disabilities), and my babies I’d “raised” for 12, and 11 years, respectively. And I haven’t moved forward. The only reason I’m still alive is that… those weren’t my only two babies. Months before my husband died, he fell in love with a puppy we stumbled upon unintentionally while picking up something from a pet store. We didn’t know there was an adoption event held that day. So just over 5 years ago, now, we adopted a puppy. By now, he’s a “legitimate” service dog (cardiac training), and my best friend and confidante. There have been so many nights where I’ve wanted to unsubscribe from earth but just look at him and know he couldn’t live without me. He is my tether to now, and he is how I’ve navigated losing close family relationships (I didn’t suffer the loss of my husband, career, and babies in a way that was palatable for some people. I didn’t do anything crazy, they admit. I just… cried too much. Wasn’t fun to be around. So they didn’t come around. Or call. Or text. I don’t have any real “social media,” so I wasn’t suffering in their face or anything. I just… wasn’t supposed to suffer at all, somehow). He is the reason I’m working so hard in therapy (and have been for nearly 4 years, but REALLY doing painful work for the past 4 months) in the hopes that I will start to want to wake up. That I will look forward to living. That I am determined to find a way to live and not just exist. That I can build a sustainable way to move forward.

But right now, I’m proud of myself for holding still, even when it hurts everywhere and I know all my internal escape routes, all of the ways I can distract myself, all of my hiding spots, all of the ways I can bleed to distract my brain from its selfish existential suffering. But I’m not using them. I’m just holding still, sometimes shakily, sometimes while holding my breath, sometimes through hours of silent tears running down my face.

It’s a kind of poetic irony that I found this person’s beautiful sentiment—that made my neurons start firing in a way that I could write about things I’ve never been able to speak aloud with any level of detail—on the eve of “spring forward” (though I, along with literally everyone else, hates the fact that we can’t stick to either daylight or standard time year round. It’s literally the only thing there’s true consensus about in the U.S.; sincerely); because that’s what I want to do. Maybe in March I’ll only be crawling, but it’s still forward motion. Because I know I won’t make it through 2025 if it’s like 2024. The world is getting worse and I have every excuse to do the same. The world is getting worse so I refuse to do the same. The world is getting worse so I am going to get better.Not perfect. Not perfectly. Tearfully, painfully, tragically, better. I’m going to keep the coffee dates adults pretend to make. I’m going to meet the neighbors I’ve lived near for 13 years. I’m going to learn how to exist among tragedy without feeling tragic. I’m going to learn to tell the stories of what I’ve lost with the aim of learning to gain things, not as an excuse for why I don’t ever even dare to want anything because I know so deeply the pain of loss. I want to grieve, but not be the physical embodiment of grief. I want to learn how to want things. I want to learn how to say that I want things. I want to learn what I like to do. I want to learn how to find joy and not just be busy.

I want.

how do you reconnect to life after being disconnected for so long

[odoraful]

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹.ᐟ

xiao has been noticing some symptoms in you lately and decides to go to baizhu for some advice…

⟡ content — xiao x gn!reader ; absolute fluff, i'm talking very silly and cute ; baizhu and qiqi appearance ; reader has a massive crush on xiao and it goes utterly over his head ; but xiao is just trying his best to be caring ; 3.2k words

⟡ a/n — xiao lovers please rise 🙂‍↕️ banner art by dsmile9 on twitter!

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In his time as a doctor, Baizhu had seen it all. Every weird and wonderful thing about the human body. Every high and low of the human experience. He thought there was little that could shock him now. However, he was disproven at this very moment when the Conqueror of Demons showed up at Bubu Pharmacy.

There actually didn’t seem to be wrong with the yaksha in terms of ailments. No gaping wounds or visible signs of karmic corruption. Baizhu did observe that he appeared more bashful that usual with how tight his arms were folded across his chest, but he did well to hide it under his stone-faced expression.

What was wrong was that he was standing here.

Willingly standing here.

Not being dragged in a half-conscious state by little Qiqi or another one of his companions who certainly cared about his health more than himself.

If Xiao was at his doorstep, the situation must be rather serious.

“Conqueror of Demons,” he greeted, resting his chin on his hand. “Now, isn’t this a welcome surprise?”

Qiqi hopped down from her stool behind the counter, shuffling towards Xiao with unbelieving eyes. She poked at his leg, checking that it was really the yaksha in the flesh. Xiao let the young girl prod as he unfolded his arms and spoke.

“Baizhu, I need your assistance.”

A request for aid? From the Conqueror of Demons himself? Baizhu stood up straighter, his curiosity changing from amused to serious.

“I-it’s about Y/N.”

Ah, I should have known. Yes, he was familiar with you. The person who had brought Xiao to the pharmacy in the aftermath of a particularly dangerous patrol. He could never forget the worry carved into your face and the tenderness in how you brushed his hair away from his sweat slicked skin. As to your relationship together, he had his internal speculations, but never heard anything official as of yet.

Baizhu nodded. “Qiqi, would you mind closing up the pharmacy early today?”

He looked over at Xiao with a soft smile, “Come with me to the back. We can have a discussion there.”

The room Baizhu led Xiao into was reserved for consultations with patients who had more complicated presentations. The furniture inside were all crafted from the same dark wood with gold embellishments. It contained a bed with white linens, a chest of multiple drawers containing all sorts of herbalist components, a low table for working with accompanying stools and chairs, and a bamboo screen for privacy where a wash bucket and cloth were set up behind.

Rather than sit on the bed or in any available chair, Xiao chose to stand. Baizhu sat in his chair by the table, legs crossed. Qiqi joined them soon after, plopping herself onto a stool.

“What seems to be the problem?” Baizhu asked.

Xiao sighed, brow twisted with concern. It was probably the most emotion he had seen in the yaksha. “Y/N hasn’t been themself lately… I believe they might be ill, but I can’t conclude what the ailment is.”

“And may I ask why you came to me? Wouldn’t it make greater sense to have them see me directly than through a middle man?”

Xiao shook his head. “Each time I’ve asked about the state of their health, they dismiss me.”

“I see…” Baizhu hummed with understanding.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask about the condition of their loved ones. But to see the Conqueror of Demons show such care for someone despite his reclusive nature. Curious indeed.

“Well then,” he continued, taking his pen and flicking open a notebook in front of him to a fresh page, “what symptoms have you’ve observed so far?”

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patient has been showing signs of increased clumsiness…

Xiao wasn’t a master at interpreting emotion, but he was adept at observing them. Any flicker of change in someone or something’s manner could be the difference between blocking a strike or being fatally injured. Not that being in mortal danger applied to this situation right now, but the skill was transferrable. Right now, Xiao was observing you from the balcony of his room at Wangshu Inn. You were assiting Verr Goldet with hanging some new decorations far below. The boss, however, had currently been pulled aside to help an elderly couple with directions.

Standing on a step ladder, he watched as you hung up a red colored ornament to one of the lantern poles that lined the deck of the inn. His keen senses spiked. The combination of you on your tippy toes, the unstable structure supporting you, and your focus being entirely on hanging the decoration instead of yourself did not have many positive outcomes. Instantly, Xiao went from being on the topmost floor to behind you. Traces of his teleportation manifesting as green wisps of energy in the air.

You felt the ladder stabilize beneath your. Your heels fell back down as you stood properly.

“Thanks Goldet!” you called over your shoulder before turning around fully to ask, “Tell me, would the flower or butterfly one look better—”

The rest of your question caught in your throat. Verr Goldet was not there behind you. Rather, a certain teal haired protector who you had grown close to.

You were introduced to Xiao by Verr Goldet herself who believed it would be good for you and him to meet. Being apart of the adventurer’s guild meant that you had interacted with many different individuals, and could share your knowledge of the mortal world. As time passed, strangers would turn to acquaintances, then acquaintances would turn into friends. The label of which Xiao himself bestowed upon you on an ordinary afternoon. It made your heart both soar at the heartfelt admission and sink to hear such a definitive term. You always hoped there would be room for something more.

Xiao blinked up at you on the ladder. In a matter of seconds, he saw your eyes go wide with recognition, then your feet slipping against the ladder’s surface. Thankfully, he had reflexes as quick as an electro thunderstorm. You tumbled forward, straight into his arms.

“X-Xiao?!” you squeaked.

He didn’t let you go just yet. Instead, he tightened his hold on you, trying to let the shock of the fall pass over you.

“This ladder is too unbalanced,” he said. “You should be more careful.”

You could only nod. Your brain was more occupied with your proximity to Xiao. How you could see the different shades of amber in the irises of his eyes, and the shape of his lips.

Some part of your consciousness pinched itself, and you whipped your head away.

“I-I didn’t realize. That’s my mistake,” you answered with a sheepish chuckle.

He gave a short sigh before gently letting you stand. The places where his strong grip held you still tingled against your skin.

“Also… the flower one,” Xiao mumbled.

You cocked your head, thinking you had misheard him. “I’m sorry?”

Xiao folded his arms, nodding towards the lantern pole.

“You asked about the decorations. The flower one would… look nice.”

Never had such simple words caused a flutter in your stomach.

If that wasn’t enough, Xiao remained with you, lending a hand where he could. He didn’t want there to be an accident if he had left you alone. What he didn’t expect was that you seemed to be more clumsier as time continued. Unable to step on the ladder without your knees wobbling, tripping over the boxes of decorations, dropping the tools every time you went to hang a decoration up. Considerate as he was, Xiao climbed ladders, moved boxes, and hammered things in place for you without protest. Though, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

Verr Goldet returned to find the pair hard at work. She observed, amusingly, how obvious you were being about your feelings and how oblivious the other was in seeing them.

Ah, youth, she mused to herself.

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patient has been experiencing raised bodily temperature…

Telling Xiao not to worry was like telling the waters in Chenyu Vale not to flow. It was a simple law of nature; a force unable to be stopped.

“I’m feeling perfectly fine,” you emphasized for a second time.

You were seated on the small sofa in your living room. Beside you, Xiao also sat, straight-backed and gloved hands in his lap.

Xiao had come to your home to visit. Both out of curiosity as to how mortals lived in their own dwellings and curiosity about you. More specifically, why you had been so flushed recently. Whenever he saw you, he noticed the pink that spread from tips of your ears to apples of your cheeks.

“There are signs that show otherwise,” he stated, bluntly.

Ever since that time he helped you decorate the inn, Xiao had been much, much more attentive towards you. Eyes examining you up and down with little subtlety. Under such a gaze, how could you not become hot and bothered?

“I am not familiar with mortal health, but I have noticed you’ve grown more…” Xiao searched for the right descriptor in his head, “…redder, recently.”

Archons, does he know about it?! you thought to yourself with alarm. He turned towards you, and you stifled a yelp. There was no way in Celestia this was how he would find out.

“It may be due to some kind of illness.”

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. An… illness?

Sensing the confusion on your face, Xiao moved nearer until he was right by your side. He lifted a hand up to your forehead, an action he had observed many adults perform on children to assess their temperature. If he was correct in its function, then this should allow him to draw an appropriate conclusion.

Your body locked up.

He was so, so close once again.

“Even now,” the slight gravel of his tone reverberated in your ears, “your face is heating up. It is likely a fever.”

He pulled away. You exhaled a breath that you subconsciously held.

“I can take you to see Baizhu. He will know what to do.”

Xiao stood up, implying that he would take you there right now.

“No, no! There’s absolutely no need!” you protested.

The emphatic rejection made Xiao frown.

“I-it’s nothing that bedrest can’t fix.” you said, attempting to provide a convincing cover. “There’s no need to waste your teleportation powers to transport me.”

“It is no waste if it concerns your health,” he answered.

“You know what,” you shot up from the sofa, “I’ll go to my room right now to get some sleep!”

Xiao opened his mouth, prepared with his own protest. However, you were faster than him in continuing your sentence.

“You should go now, Xiao. I wouldn’t want you to catch whatever sickness I have.”

Though he appreciated your consideration, as an adeptus with a completely different constitution, he was certain mortal ailments would hardly affect him. However, he couldn't explain all that to you with how fast you marched away to your room, leaving him behind.

He saw your head poke out from behind the door of your bedroom.

“Thank you for visiting me!” you called out before shutting the door.

If Xiao knew this word, he would have used it to describe the exact emotion he was feeling at this moment: Flabbergasted.

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patient’s heartrate is frequently elevated…

Even after the fever incident, Xiao, to your relief, still wished to see you. You half expected him to be so bewildered by your actions that he would no longer want to be associated with you. So, you two returned to your ordinary routines of meeting with each other.

Xiao liked having your company in the evenings before he went out on patrol. As you sat on the edge of his bed, you would tell him about your week’s completed commissions. For Xiao, it served many purposes. Tactically, he could get insight any threats to Liyue that he couldn’t detect if you were involved in or overheard any significant commissions. In those first instances of meeting with you, Xiao would have said that that was the only purpose your stories held for him. But, with each passing night, Xiao realized he rather enjoyed hearing your voice. The cadence of your tone soothed him the same way notes played by a skilled musician captured an audience. He then found his lips curving into a hidden smile whenever you described a particularly frustrating encounter. Cheeks puffed in annoyance that drew a word from his vocabulary that he seldom used: cute.

Tonight, however, you appeared to be in no such mood for stories.

You were quiet, slowly flipping through pages of a novel as you read. It wasn’t strange for you to complete your own activity during this time, but Xiao had come to anticipate your conversation. His concerns about your health bubbled to the surface once again.

If he had focused more closely on you, he would have seen that your attention was far from the words on the page. Not looking at Xiao meant your heart could be less out on your sleeve and instead encased within muscle and bone where its supposed to be.

Xiao glanced back at you, eyes glued to the novel. He wouldn’t push it. Maybe this was the rest you were speaking about previously to help you recover.

He grabbed his shoulder armor from the bedside table, preparing to put it on himself using one hand as he had done hundreds of times before.

Two hands grasped the armor, lifting it from his own grasp.

“Let me help you.”

Your voice was delicate, almost hesitant as you reached out.

Xiao wordlessly accepted, sitting down on the bed to grant you easier access. You adjusted the spiked armor piece, making sure it laid flat and the black material beneath was secure around his shoulder.

Whilst you didn’t look up at him, he freely observed you. There was something beneath your avoidant gaze and bitten lower lip he couldn’t quite decipher. At the same time, there was something in his chest that stirred.

So unfamiliar with these new emotions you seemed to bring for him, Xiao could only think in somethings.

“Thank you,” he said. “You are very kind.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “It’s always easier to have someone else helping you out.”

Fitting the amour in place, you went to pull away. Suddenly, Xiao caught your wrist with his hand.

The breath escaped your lungs. You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were imagining all this in your head. Xiao brought two fingers to your wrist, applying light pressure onto your skin.

“Your pulse...” concern laced his voice as he spoke. “It is quite fast.”

How could he even sense such a thing!? You cleared your throat, trying to temper your shock.

“It’s always naturally this high,” you answered as light-hearted as possible.

“Mhm,” Xiao could only hum with mild suspicion.

Willing his jade spear to materialize, Xiao weighed it in his hand, readying for the night’s patrol.

“Look after yourself,” he said gently. “I’ll return tomorrow.”

With a nod and a lilt in your voice you replied, “I know. You always do.”

Xiao headed to the balcony. He did not turn around to face you, and therefore missed your tender gaze and your fingers brushing over your wrist where his gloved touch still lingered on your skin.

Disappearing into the night, Xiao made up his mind. He would go consult Baizhu about your condition and see what the course of action he should take. Surely the well practiced doctor could provide some necessary answers.

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During the first part of Xiao’s recounts, Baizhu had a pretty good guess about what was happening with you. By the halfway point, he wondered if he should even continue feigning writing patient notes.

Xiao finished relaying his information, hands now on his hips—expectantly. “What do you think is happening?”

Baizhu tapped his pen against the page of the notebook. It certainly is a very special type of sickness… he thought to himself. How would Xiao react if he told him he diagnosed you with 'lovesickness'?

“Will Y/N be okay?” Qiqi asked, tugging on Baizhu’s white coat. “I like Y/N. They always give warm hugs.”

The doctor gave a reassuring smile and patted Qiqi’s head. “Yes, they’ll be alright. I’ve made my assessment.”

Xiao prepared himself. If it was serious, he needed to know how to best help you. Comparatively, Baizhu appeared not the least bit troubled. Turning to the adeptus, he drummed his fingers against the table.

“Did you notice a particular trend in the occurrence of these symptoms?”

“A trend?” Xiao repeated, resting his chin on his hand.

Maybe it had to do with the weather? Or something you had eaten on those days?

“Yes, they all seem to happen when you’re there,” Baizhu answered seeing Xiao unable to come to a conclusion. “Being more clumsy, feeling hot, a fast beating heart, but only around a certain someone…”

Xiao’s brows raised. “Am I the cause of Y/N’s illness? Is my karmic debt responsible for this?”

Baizhu shook his head immediately. “No, no, Archons no! I can assure you that these symptoms have nothing to do with your karma.”

He sighed, trying to switch his words. “Rather, it’s more to do with your… character.”

“My character?” Exasperated confusion was permanently affixed to Xiao’s face. “This ambiguity you speak with is unhelpful.”

Baizhu had done some tough things as a doctor. But trying to subtly hint to a somewhat emotionally unaware individual that someone had a crush on him was certainly one of the hardest.

He paused a moment. Was it really his place to reveal this? Wouldn’t it be far better, and more meaningful, for you to tell him on your own?

“Some symptoms that people report are actually very normal parts of everyday living,” he said, adopting his most professional tone. "My recommendation is for you to ask Y/N how they’ve been feeling recently, and to tell them that it’s never healthy to keep things bottled up inside.”

Finally, some advice for Xiao to action.

“You think I should be more direct in my confrontation?” he asked.

“Yes, but not too much to arouse anxiety.”

Xiao nodded thoughtfully. He should have known that it didn’t have to be a physical illness—maybe your symptoms were a manifestation of stress or worry you were experiencing. Talking it out would be a good step. Even if he was not the most skilled at it, he would try anything to help you feel better.

“I will take your advice. Thank you, Baizhu.”

He bowed his head in thanks. Baizhu gave a hum of what sounded like satisfaction.

“Tell me how it all goes, Conqueror of Demons.”

Baizhu’s voice as he spoke was a little too singsong for Xiao’s taste. But, he was one of the best doctors in Liyue, so who was he to second guess his words?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[inseobts]

If it's not too much to ask but could you please do a story of only one of the Monster trio like Luffy or Zoro or Sanji? (Or the whole straw hat crew) with a reader whose birthday it is on the same day as a holiday like valentine's day (even though we've already went past it, or it could be any other holiday that you think?) But only her best friend (one of the crew members) remembers her birthday and now the others feel bad, so they decide to throw an "apology birthday party" to make up for it?

Apology Birthday Party

zoro x strawhat!reader

a/n: I hope this is what you wantedddd, let me know if you want it different tho (づ￣ 3￣)づ

words count: 1.3k

tags: sfw, romance, soft zoro, nico robin bff

masterlist || ko-fi

The Sunny is draped in pink and red decorations, hearts scattered across the deck like confetti. Sanji is running around serving chocolates and heart-shaped treats, Nami is counting stacks of berries won from lovestruck islanders, and Luffy is eating whatever he can get his hands on.

It’s Valentine’s Day. And it’s also your birthday.

But no one seems to remember that last part.

You don’t say anything, of course. It’s not like you expect them to throw a big celebration or anything, but a simple “Happy Birthday” would have been nice. Yet, with everyone wrapped up in the holiday of love, your special day is completely overlooked.

Well, almost everyone.

“Here” Robin says, appearing beside you with a small, neatly wrapped box in her hands. She smiles, that knowing glint in her eyes as she hands it over “Happy Birthday.”

Your heart warms “Robin…”

“I know how it feels to be forgotten” she says gently “But you’re not.”

You unwrap the gift to find a delicate bookmark pressed with dried blue forget-me-not flowers. It’s beautiful. And, fitting.

Before you can properly thank her, a loud, boisterous laugh fills the air “Oi, Robin, what’s that? Love letter for y/n?” Luffy grins, oblivious as ever. That, of course, draws the attention of the rest of the crew. Sanji practically skids over, hearts in his eyes.

“A love letter?! From who?! I’ll destroy them—”

Robin sighs, sipping her wine “It’s her birthday present.”

Silence.

Utter, dead silence.

The entire crew stares at you, then at Robin, then back at you again. The color drains from Sanji’s face. Franky’s jaw quite literally drops. Usopp nearly chokes on his own spit. Nami’s eyes widen, and Chopper gasps in horror. Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t have a care in the world, looks like someone just told him there’s no more meat on the ship.

But the worst reaction? Zoro’s.

His eye snap to yours, and you see something flicker behind them, something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“Wait,” Usopp wheezes, gripping his head like it physically hurts “Today’s your birthday? Like, right now?”

“…Yeah.”

A chorus of expletives follows.

“We’re horrible!” Chopper wails, flopping dramatically onto the deck.

“How could I forget such an important day?!” Sanji cries, dropping to his knees like he’s been personally betrayed.

Robin chuckles into her drink “At least you all realized it before the day ended.”

That kicks everyone into action. Nami immediately starts planning an emergency “Apology Birthday Party” barking orders while Franky dashes off to set up decorations. Luffy insists on getting you the biggest cake possible, while Sanji declares he will cook a full birthday feast worthy of redemption. Usopp starts crafting a birthday gift at lightning speed, while Chopper is still crying about how bad of a friend he is.

In the middle of all the chaos, you catch Zoro watching you. His arms are crossed, his expression unreadable, but there’s tension in his stance. And then, without a word, he turns and disappears below deck.

You don’t see him for the next hour.

By the time he returns, the impromptu party is already in full swing. The crew has somehow managed to pull together a spectacular celebration, with streamers, food, and a birthday banner that is only slightly lopsided. You’re seated at the center, laughing as Luffy shoves an unreasonable amount of cake into his mouth.

Then Zoro drops something onto the table in front of you.

You blink. It’s a small box, wrapped haphazardly, almost like he struggled with it. When you glance up at him, his face is turned away, slightly pink at the tips of his ears.

“Tch. Don’t make a big deal out of it” he mutters, arms crossed.

Curious, you open it and your breath catches.

It’s a charm. A small, silver sword pendant attached to a simple chain. The craftsmanship is rough, but undeniably his.

“…Did you make this?”

Zoro shrugs, still not looking at you “Had some spare materials lying around.”

Your fingers curl around the charm, warmth blooming in your chest “I love it.”

“…Good.” His voice is gruff, but you catch the corner of his lips twitching, just slightly.

The rest of the crew watches with barely concealed interest “Oi, oi, does this mean Zoro is getting all romantic now?” Usopp teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zoro immediately glares, hand twitching toward his swords “Say that again and you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

The laughter that follows is the best sound you’ve heard all day.

Maybe your birthday started off forgotten, but as you sit among your chaotic, wonderful crew, a handmade gift resting in your palm, you can’t help but think this turned out to be the best one yet.

The party goes on for hours. Sanji serves an extravagant feast, each dish crafted with your favorites in mind. Luffy challenges you to an eating contest, one you gracefully decline, knowing it’s a lost cause. Nami surprises you with a beautiful set of earrings, and Usopp proudly presents a handcrafted figurine of you in an exaggerated heroic pose.

Franky insists on a dance party, much to your amusement, and even Robin joins in. Chopper, still sniffling, clings to you, vowing to never forget your birthday again.

Through it all, Zoro remains close, never one for loud festivities, but always within reach. Eventually, when the night winds down, you find him on the ship’s upper deck, gazing at the stars.

“Thanks for the necklace” you say, leaning beside him.

He grunts, but doesn’t move away “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. The ocean breeze is cool, but standing next to him, you feel warm.

After a moment, he exhales “…Sorry for forgetting.”

You glance at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. Smiling, you shake your head “You made up for it.”

He finally looks at you then, and in the soft moonlight, his expression is softer than usual “Good.”

Zoro stays silent for a while, avoiding your gaze, and then adds, "Actually... I had prepared it for Valentine's Day."

For a moment, you remain impassive, smiling at the sea in front of you, but then your brain connects what he said.

You suddenly turn to him and gasp, "Wait, wh...what do you mean?"

He continues to avoid your gaze, trying to look indifferent, but the redness in his ears betrays him "I admit I forgot your birthday, but I didn’t forget Valentine's Day" he says.

You, even more flustered, reply "So it’s true what Luffy told me earlier, that you worked on the necklace for more than a week??"

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. He looks away, clearly embarrassed but trying to act nonchalant "I... I just wanted it to be perfect" he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blink, still processing the confession. It’s hard to believe this is the same person who usually brushes off any sort of emotional display "Zoro," you start, your voice soft, "You really made all of that... for me?"

He finally looks at you, and for the first time, his usual tough exterior seems to crack. His eyes are slightly hesitant, but there's a genuine warmth there, almost like he’s afraid of your reaction "Yeah, I did. It’s... not much, but I thought you’d like it."

You take a deep breath, your heart racing as everything sinks in. You can’t help but smile "I love it," you say, stepping a little closer "And I... I love that you cared enough to do this."

Zoro looks almost startled by your words, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. He clears his throat awkwardly "Well, don’t go getting any ideas... It's not like I’m suddenly a romantic or something."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine "I never said you were. But this is pretty damn romantic, Zoro."

He grumbles but there's a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth "Don’t get used to it."

You both stand there for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the space between you. It’s not the most conventional confession, but somehow, in that moment, it feels just right.

And just like that, your birthday, and even Valentine's day, is perfect.

[akashirl]

- mi ♡ sei ship questions !!

↓↓ (beware the long post)

ps: i used both first and third person. i am my s/i, after all.

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

1. they first met on sei's first year and mi's second year of middle school, during basketball practice. it was the second practice miguel had attended, sei didn't show up on the first day.

2. miguel's first impression of sei was that he was an angel on earth, like some sort of divine being. it was absolute love at first sight. seijuro's first impression of miguel was that he was tall and a good player. he didn't think much of him at that time.

3. miguel was the one who felt romantic feelings first. it was immediate.

4. both of them tried to repress their feelings. miguel because he felt like he wasn't worthy of sei's admiration, and sei because he knows that being with another guy would be simply impossible due to his role as the only heir of the akashi lineage.

5. sei's life would have been ruled by his father's decisions. he wouldn't play in the nba, rather follow business like intended and put his dreams aside. his life would be quite monotonous. as for miguel, he would have succumbed to his disorder and just straight up would have died, without any kind of strength to keep going and no one to stay alive for.

6. they never left the flirting stage. sei is quite flirty in private, and it flusters miguel easily, who always tries to flirt back but fails miserably (marinette core).

7. OH BOY. miguel doesn't have a good relationship with his mother so he's living in the rakuzan dorms. his parents like sei, but they pretend to be unaware about miguel's feelings for him. as for sei's family, oh god. miguel is familiar with sei's nanny and driver, but he hasn't met masaomi personally. he's not exactly fond of him, either. so basically, neither families know that they're a "thing".

II. GENERAL

1. it was sei who initiated it. it was after my second practice at rakuzan after the absolute storm that was having to deal with my disorder... (i get way too shy talking about this) sei promptly told me that he already knew about my feelings for him, and kissed me when we were all alone and the lights were low. i didn't even have to say anything, he could read my thoughts effortlessly.

2. they didn't have an "official first date" but rather lots of casual hang outs. they spend all their free time together, be it playing basketball together or chess, studying together or going out during lunch break at rakuzan. they go to the movies together and sometimes bring the rakuzan gang along.

3. i am going to EXPLODE. this was on my first misei lore post but here it goes: it was after practice and miguel went to clean up in the locker room. sei followed him. they were all alone. mi didn't realize he was even there until he turned around; he asked if sei needed everything and seijuro simply went up to him, cupped his face with his hands and brought him down for a kiss. it all happened so fast that miguel felt like he was close to passing out. then sei pulled back, looked him in the eyes and said "don't ever scare me like that again.". how romantic, huh? crazy.

4. sei was mi's first crush, love, "relationship", and pretty much everything. mi was NOT sei's first crush (i see you, nijimura) but he was his first true love, "relationship" and whatever else.

5. back in middle school, sei was 152cm (4'11) and miguel was 167cm (5'5), that's a 15cm (5.9 inches) difference. now, sei is 173cm (5'8) and miguel is 177cm (5'9). i suppose sei barely caught up. as for the age gap, sei is 16 going on 17, while miguel is 17 going on 18.

6. well, both miguel and seijuro have an emotionally distant approach to others, albeit for different reasons. while quite literally everyone follows sei unquestioningly, miguel's reluctance provides an unusual pushback. he doesn't like being ordered around, and makes sure seijuro knows that. he keeps him on his feet, not ever putting him on a pedestal (and then fanboying about him in private but that's another story). they're like a king and his knight -- except the knight refuses to submit to the king and his shenanigans. dog lover × cat lover. milk person × black coffee person.

7. miguel's parents like sei and find him an "excellent role model" for their son. sei's father, however, thinks of miguel as just one of sei's friends from school. that is not masaomi's main focus. miguel resents him.

8. sei takes the lead in social situations, often being the one who initiates chats (he's secretly a yapper.). they're both introverts, but miguel is way more introverted than sei is. they share the same friends at rakuzan (mibuchi, kotaro, nebuya and chihiro) but miguel is strangely uneasy when it comes to being with the rest of the kiseki. he is friends with midorima and momoi, but finds it difficult to strike a conversation with the others. they're not on the same level basketball wise and it makes miguel feel a little bit out of it.

9. that depends on who's fronting. oresei is not the jealous type, but bokusei is extremely possessive. he matches miguel's freak, i suppose. oresei is confident enough not to mind that kind of thing...miguel is extremely insecure. bokusei is just naturally jealous. they're working through it.

10. [i don't quite understand what this question means. apologies.]

11. seijuro. seijuro does that. no questions asked.

12. they're extremely open about pretty much anything, sei can always tell when miguel is hiding something from him, and when it's the other way around, miguel always gets a gut feeling. though they're not the type to hide things.

13. miguel. he feels as if sei is just wasting his time on him and will eventually move on and find someone better, which he knows he wouldn't be able to handle -- but that's how he feels anyway. i mean, have you seen akashi seijuro? how did i even manage to pull such a human...? of course, he doesn't let sei know about this insecurity of his. but he doesn't need to. seijuro knows and reassures him all the time.

14. "once more to see you" by mitski, "amor de ganga" by miguel luz, "once upon a dream" by lana del rey are some of the songs in our playlist...

15. there's not a recurring argument but miguel often gets very worried with how much pressure seijuro puts on himself. he doesn't like it when sei stays at school until dawn working or when he has no time even to eat...they've had an argument before about sei's perfectionism and how it's affecting his life negatively and sei took notes. he's trying to fulfill his duties in a healthier way...

III. LOVE

1. miguel said "i love you" first, (ore)sei is the one saying it more often. i have a strange relationship with the word "love" so i don't go around saying it without meaning it...miguel is trying to become more confident in using strong words.

2. quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation.

3. miguel tries to make pick-up lines land and fails miserably. when it comes to cheesy gestures, he likes buying sei flower bouquets. after the game against jabberwock, miguel went up to seijuro and gave him a bouquet with red camellias, dahlias, white roses, red gladiolus and white chrysanthemums.

4. they cuddle almost every night at the rakuzan dorms, when everyone else is asleep. it's like the world has stopped spinning and they have all the time in the world to give to eachother. when it comes to pda, they don't do it much due to the private nature of their relationship.

5. it's often sei who initiates the kisses. sei's favorite spots to kiss: miguel's nape (where he has the tattoo), cheek, lips, shoulder. miguel's favorite spots to kiss: forehead, knuckles, lips and neck.

6. they like playing basketball, watching movies together, trying different restaurants together and playing chess against eachother.

7. sei is better at providing comfort. neither of them are very emotional, but sei always manages to make miguel feel safe -- he also tried to give advices to "solve" whatever problem miguel is facing. miguel, on the other hand, tries to distract sei whenever he's feeling down. he knows that sei's head can be quite the dark place to be living in, so he tries his best to get him to focus on something else.

8. they prefer verbal affection because it's something that they're able to do wherever, no matter the circumstances; but they've grown to appreciate physical affection too, even though it's mostly just hands on one's shoulder, slight hand brushing and timid hand holding. they're afraid of society ok. let them be.

9. what reminds miguel of sei: the sun, cats, the color red, gems / stones, gold, roses, the smell of cinnamon. what reminds seijuro of miguel: paintbrushes, silver, the ocean, clouds, the moon, apples and the smell of vanilla.

10. they like everything about eachother. they admire especially eachother's mental strength -- since both of them have disorders and are sort of "fighting their own demons", god knows what that means. seijuro likes the way miguel looks absolutely done with everything and everyone at all times, something about his aura just screams "i want to go home" and sei lowkey digs that. on the other hand, miguel likes seijuro's imposing nature and leadership. he admires the way he is confident about who he is -- and wishes he could be as confident as sei.

11. what miguel calls seijuro: sei, captain, aka-chan (when it's bokusei), or simply seijuro. he is kind of shy with petnames. what sei calls miguel: dear, my love, my knight, miguel-senpai or simply senpai.

12. sei has the memory of an elephant. miguel has the memory of a goldfish. he cannot remember anything.

13. miguel tends to be the first apologizing -- probably because he usually is the one in the wrong. sei has his arms crossed with an imposing expression, but he relaxes, gives him a faint smile and walks up to him, kissing his cheek. "alright. that's better."

14. the protectiveness scale would probably look like: bokusei > miguel > oresei. both miguel and seijuro tend to eachother's wounds...

15. miguel buys sei flowers (that seijuro keeps hidden in his room) and books, since sei likes reading a lot. sei likes getting miguel art supplies and he bought him a designer pen once. miguel can't even mention that he likes something without sei IMMEDIATELY wanting to buy it.

IV - DOMESTIC LIFE

[ au where they're 19 and 20 in college, and sei plays in the nba (lakers)]

1. both of them have a say in the decorations, but sei is quite minimalistic and miguel is into way too many medias not to decorate the fridge with shadow the hedgehog magnets. their house has some portraits of them together as well as some pictures of shiori, paintings that miguel has done all over the walls and pictures from places they've visited together.

2, 3 & 4: questions about marriage, weddings and children make me extremely flustered so i'm afraid i cannot answer them. might make a separate post about this au...

5. they're both breadwinners. sei makes loads of money from playing in the nba and miguel also makes a decent amount from his job as a psychologist. miguel cleans and sei cooks.

6. hmmm, i don't know...i don't think so. the pets stayed at miguel's parents' house and they often visit them.

7. miguel worries the most. seijuro is quite calm most of the time. he knows not to stress himself.

8. seijuro really dislikes bugs and quite literally demands for miguel to kill them.

9. that obviously depends on the holidays but (boku)sei is VERY festive as we know. months before the holidays, he is already prepared. be it dressing up, decorating the house, whatever, sei is absolutely ready. don't even mention christmas near him.

10. seijuro wakes up early and mi always convinces him to return to bed. seijuro succumbs, obviously.

11. sei doesn't move an inch when sleeping. it's almost as if he's dead (he sleeps like a man in a coffin) and miguel moves while being asleep, hogging the blanket to himself. by that time though, seijuro is already asleep and doesn't feel the cold. miguel is also the one brushing his cold feet on sei's leg. still sei doesn't move an inch. he looks as dead as a rock. and when it comes to cuddling, they tend to switch! (boku)sei has a preference for being the little spoon but other than that, they're pretty versatile.

12. miguel, he really likes to dance at parties and drags sei around. it really isn't like miguel to be so hyped up about anything, so sei dances along with him with a content smile on his face. they sing their favorite songs. it's their happily ever after.

13. they often visit sei's mother at the graveyard and leave her flowers -- then they return to water them everyday. it's common for sei to do this after he wins a game. also, after a game, sei and miguel go to a restaurant to celebrate the victory. then they walk at night while they talk about whatever's their heart's content. playing chess against eachother has also sort of became tradition to them.

14. miguel's the type to do that. "i don't know, you choose" even though he does have a place in mind and simply wants sei to guess. and seijuro always gets it right.

15. miguel drives, seijuro gives directions.

oh my GOD, this was long.

— ship questions redux (by myself + @newbordeaux)

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

What was their first impression of each other?

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

What was their "flirting stage" like?

How do their friends and family feel about them as a couple?

II. GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did they go about it?

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

What was their first kiss like?

Were they each other's first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

What is their height difference? Age difference? Do either matter to them?

How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

What is their relationship with each other's families like?

Who takes the lead in social situations? How are they around each other's friends?

Who gets jealous easier?

What are their parallels, whether in their personalities or their histories?

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear in public?

Do they hide anything from each other, big or small?

Which one thinks they aren't good enough for the other, if at all?

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

What is their most common argument about?

III. LOVE

Who said "I love you" first, and what was the situation?

What are their primary love languages?

Who uses the cheesy pick-up lines, or does corny gestures?

How often do they cuddle or engage in PDA?

Who initiates kisses? Where is their favorite spot to kiss each other?

What are their favorite things to do together?

Who is better at comforting the other? How do they usually comfort each other?

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

What reminds them of each other?

What do they like best about each other?

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Who remembers the little things?

How do they make up after an argument? Who is the first one to apologize?

Who is more protective? Who would get into a fight to defend the other? Who tends to the other's wounds?

What gifts do they typically give each other?

IV. DOMESTIC LIFE

When they move in together, who gets the most say in decorations? What do they each have to have in the house?

If they get married, who proposes, and how do they do it? Would they change their surnames?

What is the wedding like? Who attends?

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like as parents? What are the kids like?

Are either of them the "breadwinner"? Who cooks? Who cleans?

Do they have any pets?

Who worries the most?

Who kills the bugs in the house?

How do they celebrate holidays?

Who is more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Who hogs the blankets or takes up more than their fair share of the bed? Who puts their cold feet on the other? Who are the big and little spoons?

Who likes to dance with, or sing for, the other?

Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?

Who is the one who always says "I don't know" when the other asks where they want to eat?

Who would drive, and who would give directions?

[cloudyluun]

Until You Stay | famous!harry

Summary: Beth Monroe is a sharp-tongued journalist looking for her big break. Harry Styles is a cocky, untouchable rockstar who doesn’t take well to being challenged. What starts as a battle of wills—sharp words and razor-edged tension—spirals into something darker, filthier, and impossible to walk away from. But when feelings get involved, when the masks slip, will they still be able to pretend it doesn’t mean anything?

A/N: This is a commissioned work of fiction based on Harry as a famous singer, I make no claims of knowing him personally in any way. But someone trusted me to bring their filthy, angsty dreams to life, and I may have gone just a little feral in the process. So enjoy the chaos, the tension, and, of course, Harry being an insufferable asshole.

Word Count: 7,7k

Warnings: 

Explicit Smut (very detailed & filthy)

Rough Sex, Degradation, and Dom/Sub Dynamics

Jealous/Possessive Harry

Toxic Dynamics & Power Struggles

Strong Language & Dirty Talk

Angst & Emotional Turmoil

Paparazzi & Media Manipulation

Mentions of Alcohol & Self-Destructive Behavior

A Hard-Won Happy Ending

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Beth Monroe had always known she was meant for more than this.

Twenty-seven years old and already jaded, she was the kind of journalist who wanted to chase real stories—the ones that peeled back the glossy surface of the world and exposed what lay underneath. The truth. Not the watered-down, PR-approved version of it, but the raw, unfiltered mess of reality. That’s why she had spent years clawing her way through the ranks of journalism, determined to escape the suffocating confines of celebrity gossip and meaningless soundbites.

But the industry had other plans for her.

She had started with ambition, fresh out of college, ready to write the stories that mattered. But the jobs that paid? The ones that kept the rent covered and the lights on? Those were the ones that required clickbait headlines and shallow coverage of people who barely seemed real.

And so, Beth had become another faceless name in the sea of entertainment journalists, forced to write about scandals, red carpet outfits, and who's dating who. She’d learned how to craft engaging pieces that held just enough bite to make them feel substantial, but in the end, it was all just noise. A constant cycle of disposable stories about people whose lives would never be touched by the words she wrote.

That’s why this assignment felt like her last shot.

Her boss had made it clear—this was either going to be her big break or her last chance before she was permanently relegated to covering B-list divorces and influencer drama.

"We need something real, Beth," her editor, Jonathan Pierce, had told her, fingers tapping against his desk as he leveled her with that too-patient look. "Not just another shallow puff piece. Styles is at the peak of his career right now. People want to know who he is, not the version we see on stage, but the man underneath it all."

Beth had bit back the urge to roll her eyes.

Harry Styles.

Of course.

If there was one name that could guarantee headlines and clicks, it was his. He was a global phenomenon, a walking enigma, an untouchable icon. At thirty, he had long since outgrown his boyband past, solidifying himself as one of the most powerful and respected musicians in the industry. His concerts sold out within minutes. His albums dominated the charts. His face was plastered across billboards, magazines, and social media feeds worldwide.

And yet—he was also infamously private.

Beth had done her research. He gave interviews, sure, but they were carefully controlled, filled with charming deflections and rehearsed soundbites. The media loved him, but no one actually knew him.

Her job? To change that.

She had been granted exclusive access to his European tour, shadowing him across multiple countries, given rare, behind-the-scenes insight into the life of Harry Styles, the person.

Beth knew how this would go.

She would show up, ask the hard-hitting questions, and be met with infuriatingly smooth non-answers. He’d probably flash that boyish smirk, tilt his head just right, and make it impossible for anyone to push too hard. The public adored him for that.

But Beth?

She wasn’t here to adore him. She was here to unravel him.

Still, she wasn’t expecting her first glimpse of him to hit her like a gut punch.

The moment she stepped into that room, she knew.

He was going to be a problem.

The private event was held at an intimate venue in Paris; a low-lit, exclusive affair where only VIPs, industry elites, and carefully selected press members were allowed inside. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, leather seating, and the faint musk of whiskey poured into crystal glasses.

Beth walked in, blending into the sea of journalists and label executives, scanning the room for the man she had spent weeks researching.

And then she saw him.

Harry Styles did not belong to the real world.

There was something about the way he existed in a space, the way people naturally gravitated toward him—an effortless pull, an undeniable gravity.

He stood near the back of the room, dressed in an all-black ensemble that should have looked simple but instead made him look infuriatingly expensive. The tailored slacks. The silk shirt, unbuttoned just enough to hint at tattoos inked across golden skin. The loose, effortless curls.

But it wasn’t just his looks.

It was the way he carried himself like he was untouchable.

Beth watched as he laughed at something someone said, flashing that devastating grin that made cameras worship him. But it was the look in his eyes that caught her attention—sharp, assessing, distant, even as he smiled.

And then, as if sensing her stare, he turned.

Their gazes met.

A slow flicker of recognition crossed his face, though they had never met before. His green eyes scanned her, quick and unreadable.

And then, just as fast, he looked away.

Dismissive.

Beth felt heat rise to her throat.

Oh.

Oh, he was going to be a problem.

And he had no idea what was coming for him.

Beth didn’t look away first.

She wasn’t the type to shrink under scrutiny, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. But Harry? He barely spared her a full second before shifting his attention elsewhere, like she wasn’t worth a second glance.

The disinterest was strategic, she realized almost immediately. A controlled dismissal. The kind that kept people chasing, trying harder, falling over themselves for just an ounce of acknowledgment. She’d seen it before—men in power using silence as their weapon, turning the simple act of ignoring someone into an exercise of dominance.

It didn’t work on her.

So when she was finally ushered forward—her name murmured alongside a polite introduction—she didn’t bother offering her hand or plastering on a media-friendly smile. She met him with the same level of apathy he had thrown her way.

“Beth Monroe,” the event coordinator introduced. “She’s covering the European tour for Pulse magazine.”

Harry, who had just been charming some record executive’s wife with an easy smile and effortless conversation, didn’t even pretend to be interested. He gave the barest nod, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before lifting it to his lips.

“Journalist,” he mused, voice low, almost amused—but not in a way that invited conversation. More like he was tasting the word and finding it unappetizing.

Beth crossed her arms. "Is that a problem?"

That made him look at her properly.

Up close, she could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, the sharp contrast between deliberate nonchalance and razor-sharp awareness. She knew the game well—he was observing, measuring, deciding exactly how much space she was allowed to take up.

And then, in the most unbothered, condescending way possible, he simply muttered, "No. Just predictable."

Beth’s lips parted, caught between shock and incredulous amusement.

"Predictable?" she echoed, lifting an eyebrow. "That’s a bit rich coming from a man whose entire brand is built on being the world’s most palatable rockstar."

There it was.

The shift.

The flicker of something in his gaze like she had managed to surprise him. Like maybe he wasn’t expecting her to push back.

It lasted half a second before he schooled his features, tipping his glass back and dismissing her completely.

Beth could feel the eyes on them. The silent tension in the room as the moment stretched between them. But Harry? He wasn’t interested. At least, not enough to entertain her further.

His voice was maddeningly even as he murmured, "Enjoy the party, Miss Monroe."

And just like that, he turned his back on her.

Beth spent the rest of the night watching. Not because she was enthralled—fuck no—but because she needed to understand him. If she was going to do this job right, she needed to know what made him tick, needed to peel back the carefully constructed layers he used to keep the world at arm’s length.

What she noticed was infuriating.

Harry was charming with everyone else. Effortlessly engaged, magnetic in a way that made people lean in, hang on his every word. He gave them just enough of himself—never too much, never too little. His persona was crafted with surgical precision.

But with her?

Nothing.

He ignored her. Not obviously, not rudely, but in a way that felt intentional. Every time she tried to break into a conversation, he sidestepped her. When she asked a question, he answered in vague, detached sentences.

And when she finally managed to pull him into a one-on-one exchange again, it ended just as quickly as the first.

“I’ve noticed you never really answer questions,” she said, arms crossed as she studied him from across the dimly lit bar area.

Harry didn’t look up from where he was stirring his drink with a lazy wrist. “And I’ve noticed journalists never stop asking them.”

Beth exhaled sharply through her nose. “Right. Because heaven forbid anyone learns something real about Harry Styles.”

That got his attention.

He set his glass down, leaning against the counter as his gaze slid over her slowly.

“You lot aren’t interested in ‘real.’” His voice was quiet, but firm. “You’re interested in a headline.”

Beth bristled. “And you’re interested in a narrative.”

Something shifted.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the weight of the conversation settling between them.

Then Harry smirked.

“Good luck with your story, Miss Monroe.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Beth clenched her jaw.

She wasn’t done with him yet.

Beth had dealt with difficult men before. Politicians who thought they were too powerful to be held accountable, executives who assumed her presence in a room meant she was someone’s assistant rather than the journalist they’d have to answer to. She had sharpened herself against condescension and arrogance, made a career out of standing her ground in rooms filled with people who wanted to dismiss her.

But Harry Styles?

He was a different breed of difficult.

For the next several weeks, Beth followed him across Europe, shadowing his tour with increasing frustration. She sat through press conferences where he charmed reporters into asking safe, meaningless questions—the kind that allowed him to give those clever, detached answers that never actually revealed anything.

She watched him interact with fans, saw the way he flipped the switch so effortlessly—one moment the distant, untouchable rockstar, the next, someone who could make a stadium of people feel like they mattered.

And yet, with her?

He remained a wall.

He made it a point to avoid her questions, brushing past them with an easy smirk and a raised eyebrow, like he found her attempts amusing.

“Beth, darling, you’re thinking too hard,” he had murmured once, lounging backstage after a show, still glistening with sweat from the stage lights. “Why don’t you just write the same piece everyone else does? You know, the whole ‘Harry Styles is mysterious but also terribly charming’ bit. Sells every time.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t write fanfiction.”

He grinned. “Shame.”

And then there were the games.

Beth would show up for scheduled interview slots, only to be told that Harry was "unavailable." Sometimes it was because he was in a mood. Sometimes it was because he was “too busy” relaxing in his dressing room, scrolling through his phone, while she sat outside with her recorder untouched on her lap.

When she finally called him out on it, he didn’t even pretend to feel bad.

“Beth, love,” he drawled, voice dripping in mock sympathy, “you’re in my world now. Things don’t always run on schedule.”

Her patience cracked. “So you’re just wasting my time for fun?”

Harry leaned back in his seat, legs spread wide, fingers tapping lazily against the armrest. “Not for fun.” Then, after a beat, he smirked. “Though it is fun watching you get all worked up.”

She wanted to throw something at him.

The breaking point came after a particularly brutal argument.

It had been a long day—one of those rare occasions when Beth had actually gotten a few uninterrupted moments to ask real questions. She had pushed harder than usual, refusing to let him slide through with half-answers and smirks.

“Why do you do that?” she had asked, arms crossed as she watched him peel the rings off his fingers after soundcheck.

Harry flicked a glance up. “Do what?”

“Pretend you’re giving people something real when all you’re actually doing is controlling the narrative.”

The look he gave her was sharp, guarded. “That’s rich, coming from someone whose job is to spin a story.”

Beth exhaled through her nose. “You think this is easy for me? That I just write whatever sells? I’m not here to make you look good, Harry. I’m here to write the truth.”

A tense silence stretched between them.

And then, before she even saw him move, he was in front of her.

Too close.

Her breath caught.

She wasn’t sure if he had stepped forward or if she had unconsciously leaned in, but suddenly, there was no space between them. The air thickened, buzzing with something hot and electric.

His jaw flexed.

His hands curled into loose fists at his sides, as if he was holding something back.

Beth lifted her chin, refusing to shrink away.

The corner of his mouth twitched—not in amusement, not quite. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and slow, a quiet challenge.

“You think you’ve got me figured out, huh?”

Beth swallowed, throat tight. “I think you hate that you can’t intimidate me.”

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating pause.

For a second—just a second—she swore his gaze dropped to her mouth.

But neither of them moved.

Neither of them acted on it.

And later that night, when Beth was alone in her hotel room, staring at the ceiling—she realized she was still thinking about it.

She wondered if he was, too.

Beth liked to believe that she had control over herself—over her emotions, over the way her body reacted, over the frustrating, infuriating pull she felt every time Harry Styles so much as looked at her.

But control was hard to maintain when someone was constantly poking, prodding, pushing just to see where her breaking point was.

And Harry?

Harry was pushing.

Hard.

It happened in Milan.

The afterparty was in full swing—music thumping, bodies swaying, conversations weaving in and out of the dim, golden-lit space. Beth wasn’t drinking, but the atmosphere was intoxicating in itself, everyone high off the post-show adrenaline.

Harry had been watching her all night.

Not obviously, not in a way anyone else would notice, but she felt it. The flicker of his gaze when she moved through the crowd, the way his attention snagged whenever she threw her head back in laughter.

She ignored it.

She refused to let him get in her head.

Which was why, when another musician—Nate, a guitarist from one of the opening acts—struck up a conversation with her, Beth didn’t hesitate to let herself enjoy it.

He was easy to talk to, charming in a way that didn’t feel like a performance. And when he leaned in, whispering something that made her laugh—a real, unguarded laugh—she barely had time to register the shift in the air before Harry was there.

He didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t say anything.

He just stood there, nursing a drink, his stare cutting through the noise like a blade.

Beth felt it before she saw it—the shift in Nate’s posture, the way his fingers curled around the bottle in his hand.

“I’ll catch you later,” Nate murmured, voice a little too careful.

Beth blinked. “Wait, what?”

But he was already slipping away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the room.

And that was when she felt him.

The warmth of his presence behind her, the slow exhale against the shell of her ear.

“You like playing games, love?”

Beth closed her eyes.

Of course. Of course he had to do this.

She turned slowly, deliberately, only to find him watching her with a look she couldn’t quite place.

“Excuse me?” she said, tone light, though she could feel her pulse thrumming against her skin.

Harry tilted his head, mocking. “That was cute. The whole giggle and lean-in routine. Did you rehearse that?”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to have a conversation without your approval?”

His jaw flexed. “Didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying, exactly?”

He took a step closer.

Then another.

Beth refused to step back.

His voice dropped lower, dangerously smooth.

“I’m saying… you’ve been running your mouth for weeks. Acting like you don’t give a shit about me. But then—” He let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “—then you go and pull that?”

She scoffed. “Pull what?”

Harry smiled. It wasn’t nice.

“You wanted me to see that.”

Beth’s stomach flipped.

She should have laughed in his face. Should have rolled her eyes, brushed past him, walked away.

But she didn’t.

Because there was something about the way he was looking at her.

Something thick and charged and dangerous.

His hands twitched at his sides, like he didn’t trust himself not to touch her.

Beth’s breath shook.

The music downstairs faded into a dull throb, the laughter and chatter dissolving into nothing. The party might as well have been on the other side of the world.

It was just them now.

Beth barely registered how it happened—one moment, she was in the thick of the afterparty, heat and voices pressing in on all sides. The next, the door clicked shut behind her. A soft, decisive sound.

She turned just in time to see Harry’s hand linger on the lock, fingers curling around the metal, twisting until it slid into place. A quiet snick.

Her pulse skittered.

Slowly, he turned back to her, gaze dark and unreadable.

Somehow, between one breath and the next, Beth’s back was already against the wall, cool brick pressing through the thin fabric of her dress. She could still feel the phantom warmth of Nate’s touch—light, fleeting—but it didn’t matter. Not when Harry was in front of her now. Not when his body was taut with something sharp, something dark. His eyes, usually lidded with lazy arrogance, were harder now. Narrowed. Burning.

His fingers flexed at his sides, like he was trying to control himself.

Then, low, rough, "You like playing games, love?"

A shiver ran down her spine.

She forced herself to lift her chin. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

His jaw twitched.

Slow. Measured. He reached out, running two fingers up her arm, featherlight but searing. Beth refused to react, refused to show him that he got under her skin.

His lips curled. "Laughing. Touching. Batting your lashes at him like you wanted him to take you right there in front of everyone."

That made her scoff. "Oh, fuck off—"

She barely got the words out before he was on her.

No warning. No hesitation.

One hand shot to her throat—not squeezing, just holding, firm enough to make her gasp as his body pressed flush against hers. His other hand planted itself beside her head, caging her in completely.

His mouth hovered just above hers, breath warm, uneven.

"You wanna push me, is that it?" he murmured, voice like gravel. "You wanna see what happens when I lose my patience?"

Her breath hitched.

It wasn’t fear curling in her stomach. It was something much worse.

She wanted this.

Needed it.

So she pushed him again, knowing it was reckless. "Maybe I do."

That was all it took.

Harry didn’t waste another second.

His grip tightened, and then he was kissing her—if it could even be called that. There was nothing soft about it. No buildup, no hesitation. It was a clash of teeth and tongues, a war between them.

His hand left her throat, moving down, down, over the thin fabric of her dress, gripping her waist so tightly it ached.

Beth’s nails raked down his arms, her own frustration spilling over. She wanted to hurt him. Make him feel this the way she did.

"Fuck—"

The word was ripped from her throat as he yanked her leg up, hitching it over his hip. The dress rode up instantly, baring her thigh, and then his hand was there, fingers digging into her skin, making her burn.

Desperate.

That was what this was.

It wasn’t love.

It wasn’t romance.

It was hunger.

It was starving.

His teeth scraped along her jaw, down her neck. He bit—not enough to leave marks, but enough to make her feel it.

“Look at you,” he rasped, dragging his mouth down her jaw. “Needy. Desperate. And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Her fingers fisted in his hair. "Fuck you."

He laughed, breathless, dark.

"Say it," he pressed. "Say you want it."

Beth clenched her teeth. She hated him.

And yet.

And yet.

"Say it."

She swallowed hard, nails still biting into his shoulders. "I want it."

He hummed in approval, pushing her harder against the wall. "Good girl."

Then he wrecked her.

There was no teasing. No gentle touch. He dragged her panties down and shoved her dress up with no regard, making her gasp as the cool air kissed her exposed skin. His fingers slid between her thighs, finding her soaked, and he smirked.

"Fuckin’ knew it," he muttered, lips brushing her ear. "You act like you don’t want this, but look at you."

She bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sound.

It didn’t last.

His fingers slipped inside her, rough, unrelenting, and the cry broke from her throat before she could stop it.

"That’s it," he murmured, pumping them hard and deep. "Don’t hold back now."

Her head tipped back against the wall, hands gripping his shoulders, nails biting through the fabric of his shirt. His thumb pressed against her clit, rubbing, teasing, pushing her closer and closer to the edge with every sharp movement.

"Thinkin’ about him now?" Harry taunted, voice low. "Bet you’re not."

She wasn’t.

She hated it, but she wasn’t.

All she could think about was Harry.

His fingers. His voice. The way he was taking what he wanted without a second thought.

Her whole body tensed, pleasure winding tight in her stomach.

And then he pulled away.

A whimper slipped out before she could stop it.

He grinned. "Not yet."

He undid his belt in a swift motion, shoved his jeans down just enough, and then he was lifting her completely, pressing her against the wall, spreading her open for him.

She barely had time to take a breath before he slammed into her.

"Fuck—"

She choked on a gasp, nails raking down his back as he filled her, stretched her in a way that made her legs shake.

There was no time to adjust.

No time to breathe.

He just fucked her.

Hard.

Desperate.

The wall scraped against her back with every sharp thrust, and she loved it.

His fingers bit into her thighs, holding her in place, making her take every inch, every punishing roll of his hips.

"You take me so fuckin’ well," he murmured, voice strained, lips dragging over her neck. "Like you need this."

She did.

God help her, she did.

She was close—so fucking close, and she knew he could feel it in the way she clenched around him, in the way her nails dug deeper, in the way her body arched.

"Say it," he ordered. "Say you’re mine."

Her breath stuttered.

He thrust harder. "Say it, Beth."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her body screaming for release.

And then she broke.

"I’m yours."

He groaned, deep and guttural, and that was all it took.

Pleasure crashed through her, leaving her shaking, wrecked, gasping as he kept going, drawing it out until she had nothing left to give.

Moments later, he followed, hips jerking, a rough growl spilling from his throat as he came deep inside her.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Their breathing was heavy, erratic, mingling in the thick air between them.

Then, just like that, it was gone.

Harry pulled away, adjusted himself, ran a hand through his hair like nothing had happened.

Beth watched, still breathless, still reeling.

He met her eyes, his own dark, unreadable.

Then, with a smirk that made her stomach flip, he stepped back.

"See you around, love."

And then he was gone.

Leaving her wrecked, ruined, and still fucking wanting.

But worst of all?

She still wanted him.

She hated herself for it.

She hated him more.

Beth barely remembered leaving the party, barely registered the way the city lights blurred together in the back of her cab, the hum of Milan’s nightlife drowning out the noise in her head. Her body still felt him—his hands, his breath, the rough edge of his voice scraping against her skin.

It should have been enough.

It should have burned her out, smothered whatever slow, insidious pull had been building between them.

But it didn’t.

Because when she saw him again the next day, sitting in the green room of the arena, lounging like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t ruined her the night before—Beth realized something awful.

She wasn’t done with him yet.

--

Harry was different now.

Not in the way Beth had expected—not in the way most men got after a night like that.

There was no smugness, no knowing smirk, no self-satisfied arrogance that she could take a swing at.

Instead, he was… colder.

Distant. Detached. Like she was nothing more than a mild inconvenience, an insignificant blip on his radar.

He barely looked at her.

Didn’t acknowledge her when she walked into a room, didn’t spare her even a glance during soundcheck or press briefings.

And that should have been fine.

She should have been fine.

But the second she started talking to someone else—the second she so much as smiled in another man’s direction—Harry’s jaw would lock.

His shoulders would tense.

His fingers would curl around his drink, around his microphone, around anything to keep from doing something reckless.

Beth noticed.

And she made sure he knew it.

She leaned in closer when someone else made her laugh. Let her fingers linger just a little longer when she touched an arm. Tilted her head just right when she listened, knowing Harry was in the room, knowing he was watching even if he refused to look at her directly.

She wanted to prove a point.

If she was just a fuck, if she was nothing, then he shouldn’t care.

So why did he?

--

It happened in Paris.

Beth had been talking to a photographer, a harmless conversation, nothing she wasn’t allowed to do.

Harry had been across the room, pretending he didn’t give a shit.

Then suddenly, he wasn’t.

Suddenly, he was right there.

His hand closed around her wrist, fingers tight, his voice just low enough for only her to hear.

“Outside. Now.”

She blinked up at him, feigning innocence. “Excuse me?”

His grip didn’t loosen. “You heard me.”

For a second, she considered telling him to go to hell.

But she didn’t.

Because she wanted this too.

The door barely shut behind them before he was on her.

Teeth at her jaw, hands rough on her hips, shoving her against the brick wall of some dark alley behind the venue.

Beth gasped, but it wasn’t from shock.

She should have expected this.

She had wanted this.

“You’re a fucking brat,” Harry muttered against her skin, his voice thick with frustration, with heat, with something else she couldn’t name. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Beth grinned, sharp and mean. “What am I doing, Harry?”

His fingers tightened.

“You think you can get a reaction out of me?” His teeth scraped her jaw. “Think you can make me jealous?”

Her breath hitched.

“So you admit it?” she whispered. “You were jealous?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Because the way he touched her—rougher, filthier than before—told her everything she needed to know.

The first time had been about control. About proving a point.

This time?

This time, it was a need.

Desperate. Dirty. Addictive.

And neither of them could stop.

Every time they tried, they failed.

The silence never lasted. The distance never held.

Because the second they were in the same room again, the second their eyes locked across crowded spaces, it was already too late.

They had pulled each other under too many times to pretend they knew how to breathe without drowning.

Beth knew it was toxic.

Knew it in the way her hands trembled when she buttoned up her shirt in the dark, his warmth still clinging to her skin.

Knew it in the way Harry’s fingers curled into fists when he watched her leave, like he wanted to reach for her but refused to let himself.

Knew it in the way they never talked about it.

Because talking would make it real. Talking would force them to admit that it wasn’t just physical, wasn’t just convenience, wasn’t just a mistake they kept making over and over again.

But they didn’t stop.

Not when they should have.

Not even when the headlines started.

Not even when the whispers turned into full-blown rumors, twisting what they had into something uglier, something Beth couldn’t control.

She was losing pieces of herself to this, to him.

And Harry—Harry wasn’t losing anything.

Not his reputation. Not his career. Not his control.

She should have left before it reached this point—before it ripped through them like a wildfire, scorching everything in its path, leaving nothing but wreckage and ruin in its wake.

Before it bled into everything else.

Before it turned into this.

--

It happened in London, outside a sleek, high-end restaurant that reeked of old money and exclusivity—the kind of place Harry fit into effortlessly, where his name alone held weight, where he belonged.

Beth never had any interest in it. The glint of polished silverware, the hushed conversations over expensive wine, the way the air itself seemed thicker inside—like money had a scent, and it didn’t belong to people like her.

She hadn’t even wanted to come. Had told herself, promised herself, that she was done. That she wouldn’t let him do this to her again.

And yet, here she was.

The air outside was thick, muggy, summer pressing against her skin like a second layer, suffocating, clinging. A neon sign from across the street flickered, buzzing intermittently, painting the pavement in broken splashes of red light.

Harry stood a few steps away, pacing, hands raking through his already-messy curls. His jaw was locked, shoulders drawn tight, his frustration visible in the tense way he moved. He looked untouchable—towering, sharp, devastating in his black suit, the collar of his shirt slightly open like even it couldn’t handle the heat of the moment.

His eyes found hers—dark, searing, burning like embers about to catch.

“Are you seriously fucking mad at me for this?” His voice was low, taut, a thread stretched too thin, on the verge of snapping.

Beth folded her arms tightly across her chest, holding herself together. She could feel the anger, coiling hot in her stomach, winding through her like a slow, controlled burn. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

His lips pressed into a hard, thin line. “Enlighten me.”

She let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head. He didn’t care. He never fucking cared.

“Your team,” she spat, voice shaking despite her best efforts, “just made me look like some desperate, attention-seeking—”

“—that’s not what happened.”

“Really?” She stepped closer, chin tilting up defiantly, her eyes searching his face for something—anything. A flicker of regret. Understanding. A crack in the cold, calculated exterior he was so good at wearing. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like they threw me under the fucking bus to save your ass.”

The photos had hit the tabloids that morning.

Beth Monroe, clinging to Harry Styles. Beth Monroe, picking a fight in public. Beth Monroe, the problem.

Headlines twisting the truth, reshaping the narrative, turning her into something she wasn’t. His PR team had done what they always did—spun the story, cleaned up the mess, protected the asset.

Beth had been collateral damage.

Harry exhaled sharply through his nose, his gaze flicking away as if he couldn’t be bothered to deal with this. “Jesus, Beth, why do you care so much what people think?”

Her stomach twisted—not just at the words, but at how he said them.

Like it was nothing. Like she was nothing.

Like all of this—all the nights, all the touches, all the ways they’d clawed at each other, desperate and reckless—had meant absolutely fucking nothing to him.

And maybe it hadn’t. Maybe she had been fooling herself this entire time.

Something inside her snapped—something raw and fragile and past the point of saving.

“You know what?” She took a breath, forcing her voice to stay steady, forcing herself to hold his gaze even though it hurt. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

And before she could change her mind—before she could let him pull her back in—she turned around.

And for the first time, she didn’t look back.

It should have been a relief.

Should have felt like he had won.

But it didn’t.

Harry downed the rest of his drink, the ice clinking against the glass as he set it down with more force than necessary.

The neon lights of the club flickered above him, casting shadows along the crowded space. Smoke curled through the air, mixing with the thrum of bass vibrating through the floor, a heartbeat that wasn’t his. People surrounded him—laughter, touches, whispers—but none of it registered.

His third drink.

Or maybe his fourth.

He wasn’t keeping track. Didn’t need to.

Because Beth was gone.

And he should feel lighter. Should feel fucking free.

But instead, there was just this—this hollow, gnawing feeling in his chest, a slow rot that no amount of whiskey could burn away.

He had told himself it was just sex. That it was just a game.

A messy, reckless game they both played, fully aware of the rules.

So why the fuck was he still thinking about her?

Why did he still hear her voice—sharp and furious, echoing in his ears like an accusation he couldn’t shake?

I don’t. Not anymore.

Why did he still see her face when he closed his eyes—not the smirking, defiant expression she always wore when they fought, but the way she had looked at him that night—raw, open, hurt.

Why the fuck did that bother him?

Harry scoffed under his breath, shaking his head, reaching for another drink.

Fuck that.

She’d be back.

She always came back.

Wouldn’t she?

The weeks passed.

She didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t show up at any more venues.

And no matter how many women he took home—no matter how many soft lips and unfamiliar hands he let touch him—it was never the same.

Because none of them were her.

None of them made him feel alive the way she did when she pushed him, when she fought him, when she stood her ground and refused to give in.

And for the first time, Harry realized—

He had fucked up.

Not just in the way he always did—careless, reckless, breaking things without thinking about the consequences.

No, this was different.

This was real.

This was Beth.

And he had let her slip through his fingers like she was nothing.

Like she hadn’t changed him.

Like she hadn’t fucking ruined him.

It took him weeks. Too many weeks.

Weeks of sleepless nights, of bitter drinks that burned as they went down, of meaningless encounters with women who weren’t her.

Weeks of ignoring the pit in his stomach whenever he reached for his phone and saw her name missing from his notifications.

Weeks of denying—lying to himself—until he couldn’t anymore.

Until it became impossible to pretend that this wasn’t more.

That she wasn’t everything.

So, he found her.

No cameras. No PR team carefully crafting the narrative. No staged apology meant to keep his image intact.

Just him.

Beth stood in the doorway of her apartment, eyes wary, lips pressed together like she wasn’t sure if she should slam the door in his face or let him inside just to yell at him.

She was in sweats, hair tied back, looking so soft and real and heartbreakingly beautiful that Harry had to clench his fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching for her.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You really have no concept of boundaries, do you?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Would it help if I said I knocked first?”

Beth lifted a single, unimpressed brow.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

She sighed, exhaling heavily, fingers gripping the doorframe. “What do you want, Harry?”

Her voice was flat, tired—so fucking tired—and it hit him in the chest like a punch.

He did that.

He made her sound like that.

And maybe if she had been yelling, maybe if she had been angry, it would have been easier.

But this?

This quiet disappointment, this absence of fire, of fight—this was worse.

Because it meant she had already decided to let him go.

And he couldn’t have that.

He wouldn’t.

Harry swallowed, licking his lips, feeling the words crawl up his throat, unfamiliar and foreign and terrifying.

“I was afraid,” he admitted, voice rough, uneven. “You got too close.”

Beth’s gaze flickered, but she didn’t speak.

Didn’t stop him either.

“I didn’t—I don’t—” He let out a slow breath, shifting his weight. “You were supposed to be temporary, Beth.” His voice cracked on her name. “And I don’t want temporary anymore.”

Her eyes softened. Just a little.

But she didn’t let him off the hook.

Not yet.

She folded her arms across her chest, tilting her head. “So what? You came all this way just to tell me that?”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

“And now you expect me to just—what? Forget everything? Pretend like you didn’t throw me to the wolves the second things got hard?”

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t expect that.”

Beth exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a moment before she looked at him again, and fuck, he felt stripped bare under her gaze.

“I was falling for you,” she whispered, the words barely audible but lethal. “And you made me feel like I was nothing.”

His stomach dropped.

“I know,” he rasped. “And I’m—I’m so fucking sorry, Beth.”

She didn’t speak, but her fingers trembled where they curled around her sleeve.

Harry took a step closer.

Then another.

Until she was right there, close enough to touch, but he didn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, he just let himself be seen—raw, vulnerable, desperate in a way he had never allowed himself to be before.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, voice low, uneven. “But I want to try. I want you.”

Beth swallowed hard, blinking quickly, like she was trying to hold something back.

“Say it again.”

He frowned. “What?”

“Say it again,” she whispered.

Harry took a breath, steady and sure.

“I want you.”

Beth let out a shaky exhale, something breaking, fracturing between them—but this time, it wasn’t falling apart.

It was falling into place.

She didn’t answer.

Not with words.

But when she finally reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him down, letting him in—

He knew.

She wanted him too.

-

This isn’t like before.

It’s not fueled by resentment, not tangled in frustration or sharp-edged words.

It’s not an attempt to silence their own thoughts or to claim victory in an unwinnable battle.

This time, it’s different.

Because this time, they’re choosing each other.

And neither of them wants to pretend anymore.

It’s quiet.

Not the uneasy, tension-laced silence they used to share, but something softer. He’s brought her here—to his real place, not some impersonal hotel room or a shadowy corner where they could disappear without consequence.

It’s his space.

Dim lighting from the city outside filters through half-drawn blinds, painting warm, golden stripes across the floor. The air is thick, heavy with something unspoken, the echoes of every past moment clinging to the walls.

No noise from the outside world.

Just them.

And for the first time, that’s all they need.

They stand close but don’t touch—not yet.

It’s strange, this carefulness between them, this slow, deliberate restraint. For so long, everything between them has been about force, about taking, about dominance wrapped in lust.

But now—

His fingers reach for her, hesitant but certain, trailing the line of her jaw with an aching kind of reverence.

No roughness. No bruising grip.

Just a slow, featherlight touch, like he’s memorizing her, like he’s afraid to move too fast.

Beth’s breath stutters. She tilts her face into his touch, just barely, just enough to tell him that she wants this too.

When she opens her eyes, he’s already watching her.

Already waiting.

Already sure.

When he kisses her, it’s nothing like before.

Not an attempt to overpower, not a silent demand for control.

It’s soft.

Tentative, at first—like he’s rediscovering her, learning the shape of her lips, savoring her warmth. A slow slide of mouths, the quiet exhale of breath mingling between them.

And then—

The restraint fractures.

A low, desperate groan rumbles in his chest, and his hands move to her waist, pulling her closer, molding her against him. The kiss deepens, turns hungry, but it’s not about possession anymore.

It’s need.

It’s want.

It’s everything they’ve never allowed themselves to feel.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him down into her, and he lets her. Lets her take as much as she wants.

He doesn’t rush.

Doesn’t tear at her clothes like before, doesn’t drag fabric over her skin like it’s just another obstacle to get through.

He takes his time.

Fingers skimming her shoulders, down the length of her arms, over her ribs. He lingers, watching her, drinking her in like he’s seeing her for the first time.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough with something raw, something that sounds like awe.

Her breath catches.

She should feel exposed. Vulnerable.

But the heat in his gaze doesn’t make her feel bare.

It makes her feel wanted.

She reaches for him then, pulling at his shirt, sliding her hands over warm, firm skin, feeling the steady, grounding beat of his heart beneath her palms.

He lets her undress him too.

No rush. No urgency.

Just this.

Just them.

He takes his time.

Worships her with his hands, his mouth, his tongue, exploring every inch like he’s memorizing her, like he never wants to forget the way she feels beneath him.

His fingers trace the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the softness of her inner thigh.

He doesn’t hurry.

Doesn’t just take.

He gives.

She fists the sheets when he drags his mouth lower, when he pauses to watch her reaction, when he smirks against her skin at the way she shifts, needy, impatient.

She doesn’t want to beg. Not this time.

But when his mouth finally touches her, warm and devastatingly slow—

She does.

He doesn’t rush her to the edge.

He builds it.

His mouth works her over with precision, savoring every shudder, every gasp, every quiet, breathless plea.

His hands hold her open, steadying her, grounding her, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

He watches her the entire time.

Doesn’t look away.

Not when she trembles.

Not when she cries out his name.

Not when she finally, finally falls apart beneath him.

He just holds her gaze, dark and unwavering, like he’s making damn sure she knows—

This means something.

When he finally slides into her, it’s different.

No rough, frantic pace. No bruising hands.

Just this.

Just the slow, deliberate push of his hips, deep and measured, drawing a gasp from her lips.

He stills for a moment, presses his forehead against hers, breathing her in, grounding himself in the feel of her.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, her nails dragging lightly over his skin.

Not clawing.

Not marking.

Just holding.

He moves then.

Not just fucking—making love.

Every slow thrust feels like a confession.

Every whispered “mine” against her lips feels like a promise.

And this time—

She doesn’t fight it.

She lets him have her.

And takes him in return.

No rush to leave.

No scramble for clothes.

No silence.

Just this.

Just them, tangled in sheets that smell like them, his arms heavy around her, his fingers tracing slow, mindless patterns against her back.

For the first time, he stays.

For the first time, she lets him.

There’s a pause. A deep, quiet moment where neither of them speaks.

Then—

“You’re mine now, aren’t you?”

His voice is quiet. Certain.

Beth doesn’t hesitate.

She shifts closer, presses her lips against his jaw, and breathes him in.

“Yeah, Harry.”

A slow smile tugs at his lips.

She watches it spread, watches the tension leave his body, watches the way he finally lets himself believe it.

“I am.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

taglist:

@oscahpastry, @mema10, @angelbabyyy99, @iloveharrystyles04, @cinemharry, @drwho06, @donutsandpalmtrees, @panini, @mads3502; @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa, @one-sweet-gubler, @rizosrizos26, @ciriceimpera, @everyscarisahealingplace, @hello-heyhi, @sexymfharriet, @lizsogolden, @hannah9921, @chicabonitasblog, @huhidontknowstuff, @berrywoods1245, @jennovaaa, @angeldavis777, @prettygurl-2009, @almostcontentcreator, @run-for-the-hills, @maudie-duan, @dipmeinhoneyh, @harrrrystylesslut, @georgiarose94, @stylestarkey, @watarmelon212, @ hopefullimaginer123, @fangirl509east

[lexirosewrites]

Day One: Courting Rituals

for @stmarchmm

Before Eddie officially starts courting Steve, they’re together nearly every day.

Steve tends to hang at the trailer and watch movies with the alpha. Sometimes they go to the arcade with the kids or they host a DnD night at Steve’s place.

Everyone can see that they’re inseparable.

Robin even lightheartedly complains about how Robin and Steve time became Robin and Steve and Eddie time.

Steve wants to be around his new friend constantly and Eddie seems to want the same thing.

So they’re always together.

The funny thing is that Steve doesn’t even recall it becoming more than a friendship.

One day, they’re goofing off, cracking jokes, and getting high on Eddie’s rooftop.

The next, they’re holding hands at the movies and sharing milkshakes at the diner.

It’s an easy transition.

When people start asking about labels (Joyce keeps prodding Steve, reminding him that dating an alpha without clear intentions is a dangerous affair), Eddie beats him to the punch with a traditional bouquet of flowers.

Wildflowers. Hand-picked, colorful, and unique just like Eddie.

He’s received many attempted courting presents before, but these are Steve’s favorites.

Of course he agrees immediately to the unspoken request and that makes things between them official.

They can spend all the time in the world together now without speculation or judgement!

Only… now Eddie is barely around.

It makes no sense to Steve (or the other half of his brain, Robin). They’d been attached at the hip when it was casual and now that it’s serious, Eddie just up and disappears?

Steve is more than a little hurt, but he tries to be reasonable.

Maybe Eddie saw their official courting as a victory and he no longer has to work so hard to get Steve’s attention. Now he can put some space between them.

Or…

Maybe Eddie changed his mind.

Maybe Steve isn’t what he wants anymore and he’s delaying the pain of breaking it off by avoiding him entirely.

The uncertainty eats away at Steve. It’s one too many cancelled plans, dropped calls, and flimsy excuses.

Steve storms into the Munson trailer at 9PM, beyond panicking when Eddie didn’t answer his phone call they’d agreed to have at 8:30.

Eddie’s van is in the driveway.

In his rush to check for Eddie’s vehicle, he’d apparently missed Wayne’s truck.

“Evenin’, Steve. Eddie expectin’ ya?”

Steve’s anger deflates slightly in the face of the man he assumed would be as good as family soon.

Wayne has always been kind to him.

“No, I guess not. He was supposed to call me half an hour ago. I even tried ringing, but nobody picked up. I got—”

Paranoid. Angry. Hurt. Devastated.

“Worried. I was worried about him,” Steve explains truthfully.

Wayne pats the free spot on the couch next to him.

He hesitates.

If Eddie’s in his bedroom and willfully ignoring his calls, Steve would rather get this break-up over with.

The quicker his hearts breaks, the quicker he can start repairing it.

He sits anyway.

“I’m sure he lost track of the day again. Been happenin’ more and more lately.”

Wayne’s never lied to Steve before. It’s hard to imagine he’d start now.

“I just thought Eddie would want to be with me more since we started courting. It feels like he’s too busy to even see me anymore,” Steve confesses, a little shocked at his own honesty.

Wayne has that effect on people.

The old man hums thoughtfully, not outright agreeing or disagreeing.

“If there’s one thing I know about my boy, it’s that he’d give anything to spend every moment of every day with you, kid. He may not always do it perfectly, but Eddie loves you, Steve. Trust that much.”

He snorts.

“Well, he has a funny way of showing it these days. He used to at least make time for me, Wayne. Now, he’s practically avoiding me entirely. How else am I supposed to interpret that?”

The wrinkles of Wayne’s brow furrow deeper.

“Have you… really talked to him recently?”

Steve shakes his head briefly, trying not to let the tears fall.

“That would require him to pick up the phone for anything other than cancelling our plans.”

“Ah. I see.”

Wayne lets out a hearty laugh and Steve has to wonder whether Eddie’s uncle has lost his mind entirely.

“You should go see your alpha,” Wayne advises him with a smile. “Ease your troubled mind, omega.”

“What?”

“Go on, Steve. Just try not to startle him. That silly boy hardly sleeps as it is… I’ve got the night shift, but I trust you two won’t start on grandpups if I leave ya alone here?”

Steve nods frantically. His face is more than flushed at the idea of starting a family right now.

He’s not sure Eddie likes him anymore, let alone loves him enough to do that with him.

“Yes, sir.”

Wayne stands with a reassuring pat on Steve’s back, heading for the door after a pitstop for his keys.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Wayne.”

He stays on the couch by himself a little longer, working up the nerve to go confront whatever is waiting for him in Eddie’s silent bedroom.

Steve would rather face another demogorgon than deal with Eddie’s incoming rejection.

Still, he promised Wayne.

He treads lightly on the creaky floors until he reaches Eddie’s bedroom.

It used to be a place Steve loved being. Full of Eddie’s personality and warmth. Smelling strongly of his loving alpha. Music always playing on the radio or turntable.

He turns the handle slowly, heeding Wayne’s advice to not startle Eddie.

It ends up not being an issue since his boyfriend is completely dead to the world, deep in sleep.

Weirdly enough, he’s still dressed. On top of the covers and wrapped around a box that Steve’s never seen.

Steve doesn’t flip the lights on, but he leaves the door open enough to light his way so he can come further into the room.

His hands move of their own accord, reaching for Eddie despite his brain saying it’s a bad idea.

Instead of a t-shirt, he touches a collared button down.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie in anything so formal.

It’s a short sleeve shirt, but looks like nothing the alpha would ever choose to wear.

His fingers continue to wander until he finds a patch on Eddie’s chest. It’s ironed haphazardly.

He gets close enough to read.

‘Eddie.’ A name tag?

Steve continues to search Eddie’s shirt silently. He finds more words. Embroidering on the pocket states ‘Dan’s Auto.’

Dan’s Auto Shop is a garage in the next town over. Steve’s taken his own car there before. It’s decent, if a little rundown.

Does Eddie… work there?

Eddie has never held an honest to god job. Selling drugs to locals? Sure. But never a 9-5 blue collar hourly rate.

Why would he get a job and hide it from Steve?

Steve’s heart can’t take the suspense. He reaches for the strange box without care.

What’s inside makes him freeze.

A handcrafted brown leather collar with Steve’s name burned into it. And a ring. Simple, beautiful, elegant.

It matches Steve’s tastes exactly.

It has to be for him.

Steve lets out a shriek of surprise when an arm appears around his waist.

He’s pulled down onto the bed, Eddie’s strong hold tucking Steve right back against the alpha and keeping him in place there.

“Hi there, sweetheart.”

“Hi alpha.”

Steve doesn’t mention the missed phone call. Or the cancelled dates.

He’s missed his alpha too much to hold a grudge over such silly things.

In the morning, they’ll have a long and important conversation about proper communication and how Eddie doesn’t need to buy Steve any more fancy courting presents in order to impress him because he’s already in love.

Tonight, they just sleep peacefully in each other’s arms as (almost) mates.

[awardenandacrow]

I don’t know why it took as long as it did but all of a sudden I remembered this gifset Lucanis swap from @forsakenwitchery and I had a snippet idea! I hope y’all enjoy :3

SNIPPET 48: [Spite is looking for doors]

CW/TW: suggestive dialogue

[PLEASE NOTE: this snippet occurs before Taash comes out to the team as non-binary. As such, she/her pronouns are used for Taash in this snippet.]

——————————————————————————

Naimeryn started down the stairs, but a crash in Taash’s room caught her attention. Hadn’t she gone to Minrathos with Neve? She retreated back up the top step and set down the basket of laundry before turning down Taash’s hallway instead.

“Taash?” She asked at the door, pushing it open slowly. “Are you already ba — oh.”

A pile of weapons and other gear lay on the floor just inside the door, where they’d been knocked off the table. Lucanis — or, rather, *Spite* — was maneuvering around the room half-crouched, apparently searching for something.

“Spite?” She said, stepping fully into the room and shutting the door behind her. “Whatcha looking for?”

“DOORS,” he growled. “WANT. OUT.”

“You keep saying that,” Naimeryn said, picking up a heavy pair of axes and setting them back on the table. “But it’s not fair for you to just take Lucanis wherever you feel like. It’s… strange, for a mortal to wake up somewhere they didn’t fall asleep.”

“IT’S STRANGE. BEING. TRAPPED!” Spite snapped at her, moving around to the other side of the room. Naimeryn’s heart ached as she finished returning the gear to its rightful place.

“I imagine it must be,” she said gently, walking further into the room opposite him. “I really *am* sorry that this happened to you.”

“LUCANIS. PROMISED.”

“Promised what?” Naimeryn asked him. He suddenly spotted the broken Eluvian and headed for it. She quickly stepped into his path.

“Spite, this Eluvian is broken. It won’t work,” she said, holding up her hand, but stopping short of touching Lucanis’s chest. She didn’t know how Spite would respond to being touched while in control of Lucanis. “Why don’t you just talk to me?”

“ROOK.” Spite looked up at her as though seeing her for the first time.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m here.”

He straightened up and started walking fast, and Naimeryn, startled, instinctively stepped backwards. Her back *thud*ded against the cold, dead surface of the Eluvian a moment before his forearm, next to her head. Spite leaned in close and sucked in a deep gulp of air through his nose.

*Blight and… lavender* he’d said. Did she smell like that now? Or did being clean erase the scent of Blight? Spite was studying her face, curiously, it seemed. Naimeryn took a slow breath, unclenching her jaw and relaxing her shoulders. She didn’t want to give him any reason to think she was afraid — and therefore weak — or combative. Regardless of their history when he was Determination, he was a demon now.

“LUCANIS SAYS. KEEP HANDS. TO. OURSELVES,” Spite said, lifting Lucanis’s other hand and looking at it intently as he flexed his fingers. Naimeryn reached up tentatively put her hand over his newly clenched fist.

“He’s right,” she said gently. “We don’t want to hit people who aren’t our enemies.”

“NOT. HIT,” Spite said, his tone strange. Before he could say anything else, Lucanis stumbled, his eyes squeezing shut. Naimeryn released his hand immediately. He pushed away slightly, though his hand and wrist still rested on the Eluvian, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Naimeryn held her breath, afraid to startle him as he awoke. As his eyes fluttered back open, he winced.

“Stop yelling,” he murmured, she could only assume to Spite. His nose began to bleed, and on impulse, Naimeryn shuffled her sleeve over her hand and reached to wipe it away.

Oops.

Lucanis’s hand snapped down from by her head to grip her shoulder in a crushing grip. She sucked in a breath, but by the time she had, his eyes had focused on her, and he released her with a startled step back.

“Rook?” He croaked.

“I’m all right,” Naimeryn said quickly. “Spite was… looking for doors.”

“I could have hurt you,” he said stiffly.

“I shouldn’t have startled you,” she shook her head. “But you’re in control.”

“Am I?” He snorted out a half laugh.

“Lucanis…” Naimeryn frowned, worried she’d said the wrong thing.

“*Please* tell me I didn’t move into your secret hookup room,” Taash said from the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

“What? No!” Naimeryn felt as though her whole body had turned red. Lucanis cleared his throat and excused himself, all but running past Taash to leave. Naimeryn blew out a breath and rested her head back against to Eluvian. Great going, Naimeryn.

“You reek,” Taash was smirking when she looked back at her.

“What?” Naimeryn straightened up, pulling her collar to her nose. “But I just bathed…”

“No, dummy, not that,” Taash laughed, putting a bag down on top of the gear Naimeryn had set on her table before. “*Adaari.*”

“I’m sorry?”

“Let’s just say I now know *exactly* what Lace was talking about,” Taash chuckled. “Seriously, you guys do it here?”

“*No!*” Naimeryn flushed again. “This room wasn’t even here until you moved in. That’s kind of… how the Lighthouse works.”

“So you guys go into our rooms once they show up and use ‘em?” Taash asked. “That’s messed up, Rook.”

“*No!*” Naimeryn squeezed her eyes shut and waved her hands, flustered. “It’s not — we’re not — he doesn’t — I —“

She ground out a frustrated growl.

“*That* sounds true,” Taash chuckled again. Laughing at her.

“How was Minrathos?” Naimeryn decided changing the subject was the only way she was going to get through this.

Taash to Lucanis swap

Looking at it know I feel like maaaaybe I should have put Spite here... idk I still think a threesome with Spite should have been an option 😂

All my DATV gifs

Bonus gif:

[mommyslittlebird]

the puppy one is so cuuuuute please do more of it if you would!!! my mind is filled with wanda coming home to pup!reader who gets all excited about mama coming home, who gets jealous just smelling the hint of another pup on wanda 😭😭

(I love this! Let me know if you have any more puppy prompts!)

Part 2 of this

“Mama! Mama!” You run to the front door jumping up and down in front of her. “Mama you’re home!”

“Carefully, little puppy,” she laughs. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep noodling around like that.” She picks you up and kisses your head several times until you wiggle out of her arms in favor of running in circles around her.

“Mama I misseded you so much today!” You say excitedly.

“You did?” She asks, squatting in an attempt to calm you down. “Were you a good puppy while mama was gone?”

You nod excitedly. “I-I ated breakfast. And then I playeded in the yard. And there was so many bunnies and I didn’t kill any of them! Just like you taughted me mama!”

Wanda chuckles, glad to see you were making use of your new puppy door and not leaving her any dead rabbits. She picks you up, pulling you into a tight hug and gently scratching behind your ears. She carries you to the couch, sitting down with you in her lap. You melt into her arms… until you catch a whiff of something on her clothes. It was faint but unmistakable. Another dog.

You frantically pull away and sniff down the rest of her clothes. You sit back on your haunches, your bottom lip quivering as you confirmed the source of the smell.

“Aww, baby what’s wrong? Talk to mama,” she soothes, cupping your chin and giving it a little scratch.

“You played with another puppy today?” you squeak, nearing tears.

She makes a face of realization. “I was over at Tasha’s today with Bowie. You’ve met Bowie, remember baby?”

You do remember Bowie, Natasha’s German Shepherd hybrid. They were a retired army dog. Very big. Very strong. Very well behaved. You nod, curling up sadly in her lap. “Do you love them more than me, mama?”

“No, sweet pea,” she soothes, holding your face in her hands. “You’re my favorite puppy in the whole world, remember? Mama doesn’t love any other puppies as much as she loves you.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, rubbing your head against her chest.

“I’m positive, baby. You’re mama’s favorite puppy,” she reassures.

She laughs as you start to walk back and forth over her lap, pressing your entire body into hers. You rub your face and ears everywhere, on her shirt, in her lap, on her neck, on her arms. You flop awkwardly as you attempt to crawl over her lap with your head dragging against her thighs. “What are you doing baby?”

“Making sure all the other puppies know that you already have a puppy at home so they don’t try and come home with you,” you reply.

Wanda sighes in acquisition. If you needed to mark her to feel better, she would let you. “Okay, honey. Just no tinkling on mama.”

“Not even a tiny bit?”

“Absolutely not.”

[theliving-radio]

The Meaning of “Big Brother”

Part: 1

Warnings: none, just fluff and sillies. Gender Neutral Reader. Platonic relationship. Malleus is now your big brother.

———————————————————————

Malleus is an only child. Until he dubbed you as his Baby Sibling, making him a Big Brother.

But what is a “Big Brother”? That’s been on his mind lately. What does it mean to be a “Big Brother”?

Malleus wishes to ask Lilia on the matter, but goes against it as it felt like the old fae would tease him. Silver is also an only child, and Sebek is the youngest of his siblings. So he couldn’t ask them either.

And so, Malleus sets off to ask some of the students that are Older Brothers too.

“What it’s like to be the older brother in the family?” Trey was surprised when the First Years came running to him, saying that Malleus Draconia wanted to see him. Trey was in the middle of making pie crust for a new recipe he wanted to try out when both Ace and Deuce showed up with Malleus in tow. But the question was more of a shocker than seeing Malleus Draconia in the Heartstabyul kitchen

“Yes. I’ve heard from Trappola and Spade that you are an Older Brother to many younger siblings. And that even students have claimed you as “The Older brother of Heartstabyul.”

Trey glances over at Ace and Deuce who were a bit embarrassed by it, but Trey only lets out an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, I have a few younger brothers and a little sister. We all live together with our parents who run a Bakery.”

“Interesting… and what are your ‘duties’ as an older brother?” Malleus questioned as he watched the Vice dorm leader go back to mixing.

“‘Duties’, huh? That’s one way of putting it. But I just do my best to make sure they don’t cause any trouble and aren’t fighting each other. One time, one of my brothers was teasing our sister to the point of crying… then proceeded to punch him. When I found them, they were both tussling in the middle of the Bakery. I had to scold them both.”

“Fascinating…”

After the mixing, Trey takes the dough out of bowl and places it on the kitchen counter where it can be kneaded. He looks over at Malleus who was writing down in a small notepad.

Did he have that the whole time?

“So when it comes to your younger siblings, you have to protect them from each other. Along with correcting their behavior towards one another.

“I mean, I guess? Yeah. Most of the time that responsibility would fall under our parents. But since I was the one to see it happen, I had to set things straight.”

“I see… Have they ever done anything to make you upset?”

Trey was in the middle of kneading the dough, but pulls away from it and places his hand on his chin, trying to think of something. Meanwhile Ace was trying to sneak towards the fridge to see if there were any tarts in there, Deuce wasn’t trying to signal him to not do it.

Without looking away from the dough, Trey picked up small metal spoon and threw it in the direction Ace was at. Causing him to yelp and curse under his breath at getting hit in the head with said spoon, and for getting caught.

Malleus was intrigued by the small exchange.

“There was a time where one of my brothers wanted to go to a Spelldrive game. He really wanted to go. I couldn’t say no to him, and so I got my entire allowance to buy a ticket for him. All the money I saved up for myself, just gone. Of course I was upset about it… but when he came home from the game he had the biggest smile on his face, and went straight to me to tell me everything that happened during the game. And I knew from that moment, I didn’t regret giving him all my money. And I would do it all over again, given the chance.” Trey smiled at the memory, Malleus took noticed and smiles as well.

“Maaan~ what a lucky kid. Wish you were my older brother, Trey-senpai!” Ace interrupted the heartfelt moment.

“Don’t you already have an older brother, Trappola?”

“Yeah, but he’s a dick!” Ace loudly declares as he crosses his arms. “To prove my point, one time while I was laying in bed, he walked into my room without saying anything, approached me, turned around and farted in my a face! He ran out laughing and I had to chase him to give him a what for!”

Malleus looked at Ace in pure horror. His older brother did that?! Is that normal???

He does not wish to lay his flatulence upon you!

Not his Baby Sibling!

“Ah yeah. I’m an only child. But I’ve heard siblings doing that to each other.” Deuce mention, which causes Malleus to turn to him in shock.

“So that is normal behavior among siblings?”

“Well…. Not really, every family is different, and every sibling bond can be different too. Some love each other, and there are some who hate each other.” Trey answered the Dragon Fae’s question as he set up placing the dough in the pan.

Malleus thought about Trey’s words. He does love you very much, he is your Big Brother after all! But even relationships and bonds can change over time. And he hopes his Baby Sibling does not turn to hate him one day.

“I see… Well I must thank you for this insightful information, Clover. I will have to leave now to get more information.”

“If you have any more question, just try to find me.”

Malleus nods as he makes his way out of the Heartstabyul’s dorm kitchen. As he leaves, he hears the sound of a smack and Ace yelling ‘What did I do?!’ While Trey’s response being ‘Do you want to be collared?’

“You came all the way here… to ask me how I treat my younger siblings?”

“Yes. That is exactly why I’m here.”

Out of all the places, Jack never once thought that Malleus’s Draconia would come over to Savanaclaw dorm… to ask about family…

“… why?”

“Recently I have become an Older Brother, and I am asking for advice from others who are one as well.”

“Ah.” Jack… was still not expecting that answer.

It’s no secret from the school that Malleus Draconia, future king of Briar Valley, one of the top powerful mages in all of Twisted Wonderland…

Has dubbed you as his “Baby Sibling” and has taken the role “Big Brother” seriously.

How did this arrangement came to be? Nobody knows.

Jacks ear twitches as he crosses his arms. Before Malleus came by, Jack was actually going to be headed to the botanical gardens to help Ruggie find Leona. Unfortunately the dragon fae stopped him before he was able to walk out of the dorms lounge room.

“I heard from Schoenheit that you have a younger brother and sister,” Malleus took notice that Jack’s tail swayed a bit when Vil was brought up.

“… you heard correctly. Both are in elementary school.”

Jack isn’t gonna lie.

This is kinda awkward, and weird.

“Jack, you’re still here? I thought you were gonna help me-“ Ruggie entered the lounge and stopped in his tracks as he saw Malleus. The Hyena Beastmen looks over at Jack, his eyes saying ‘Help me’. Ruggie doesn��t know what he walked in on.

“Good Afternoon,Bucchi. Sorry to come here unannounced, but I just wanted to ask Howl on his relation to his younger siblings are like.” Malleus answered earnestly.

Ruggie blinks once. Then twice.

What?

“What? Why?”

“Since I am a Big Brother now, I wish to know the responsibilities of taking care of a younger siblings. So I am asking other students advice and experiences they’ve had,” Malleus looked pleased with himself at his own reasoning. Ruggie on the other hand, was confused by the Fae’s reasoning. Really?

“And you’re asking Jack because…?”

“He too, is also a Big Brother.”

Ruggie turns to Jack who just gave him a curt nod. “Ok, but like can’t you just look it up?”

“Ah, I’m not really good with technology…”

Is this guy for real?!

“… both of my siblings are very energetic. They can play hide and seek for six hours straight without getting tired.” Jack goes back to the topic at hand.

“Six hours?!”

“Oh my, how do you get them to calm down?” Malleus asked as he gets out his notepad and pen. Ruggie and Jack just blink at him as the Dragon Fae waited patiently for an answer.

Jack coughs in his fist to clear his throat, “Well, mom sometimes has issues when it’s time for bed. Lately though, she has been sneaking in sleeping medication into their drinks. Just small doses to help them calm down when it’s time to sleep.” The Wolf Beastmen explained as he recounts the events.

Malleus writes down in the notepad, wanting to get it all down. Ruggie leans over and tries to get a small glimpse of what the Fae wrote down, curious on what he has so far.

“So, you and your mom would go to extreme measures to make sure your siblings would have a healthy life style?”

“I wouldn’t say extreme… just, some actions we have to take.”

“Understood…” Malleus shuts his notepad, making Ruggie tense up from the force of it.

“Well, thank you very much Jack Howl for answering my questions. I am going to take my leave now, the sun is still out, and I still have many questions and learning to do. It was nice to see you too Bucchi.” Malleus bows to both Beastmen and begins to make his way to the Mirror Chamber.

“…dude, what just happened?”

“I dont know… giving out family advice?” Jack scratched the back oh his neck, perplexed by the exchange.

Malleus flipped through his notes as he walks out the Savanclaw dorm. He still had a lot of questions that need to be answered. He wanted to be prepared.

Malleus wanted to be the best Big Brother you’ve ever had, after all!

—————————————————————————————

I legit just wanted to write like a small prompt, but then brain kept going “MORE!!!”

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed part 1! I’ll be preparing for part 2 hopefully soon! So enjoy my idea of Big Brother Malleus!

[p1astr81]

teenager!oscar blurb🙈

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

It was spring, one of those unbearably cold nights. Your bedroom windows were latched shut, the purple curtains pulled shut in hopes it would block any draft.

There was a knock on your window, startling you, hidden under your stack of heavy blankets; the bottom of which being a heated blanket, cranked to the highest setting.

You ignored the knock, clutching onto your blankets to revel in the security.

Another knock came, this one more desperate.

Erroring on the side of caution, you slid from the blankets to receive your old metal bat from your closet.

Steps were taken on the tips of your toes, stuttering when another—even more desperate—knock rattled the window.

Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of the curtains, throwing them to the side while you had your bat ready.

The face your eyes laid on drew a small gasp from your lungs, followed by a hushed laugh.

Oscar, sat on top of a tree branch and clinging on for dear life, was waiting outside your window. His cheeks were pink from the chill of the wind.

Carefully, you placed the bat against the wall, and opened the window.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in your dorm? Asleep?” Despite your hushed inquiries, there was a considerable blush on your face along with a smile. You tucked your hair behind your ears.

Oscar was struggling to hold on. “Let me in before I fall to my death, please?” He gave a half-hearted, nervous laugh. His breath fanned in a hazy fog of smoke.

“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” You stepped back.

Loud as ever, Oscar entered your bedroom. You hushed him, glancing back at the door, straining your ears for any incoming footsteps. There was none.

He apologized in hush tones, securing the window closed.

“What are you doing here?” You asked again in whispers and laughs. The risk of getting caught made you giddy. You took Oscar’s hand, dragging him to sit on the end of your bed with you.

Oscar laughed at your current state. “I was staying at one of the guys, and I realized your house was only a few streets away, so I cut through the yards and now here I am.”

You tilted your head. “Who are you and what have you done to my Oscar?”

He laughed.

“Because my Oscar would’ve never done something so rebellious.”

He smirked. “Your Oscar, hm?” He teased.

Hand on his chest, you gave him a small shove. “Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. To make up for your shoving, you leaned forward to connect your lips. Oscars hand took hold of your cheek.

The both of you, so immersed in the other, did not even register the sound of the door opening until your fifteen year old sister’s gasp shattered your shared delusion.

Whipping around, you stumbled after her as she progressed down the hall. You caught up with her, tugging her back down the hall. “Please, don’t tell them.” You begged her. Them being your parents. It seemed the little snitch’s favorite hobby was getting you into trouble.

She considered your pleas. “Only if you let me borrow your white top with the blue lace and buy me food tomorrow.” She demanded, smug as ever.

“Fine.” You seethed, releasing her.

When you returned to your bedroom, Oscar was lying on his side along the length of the bed. He had his head propped up in his hand, relaxed form while flipping through one of your decorative magazines. He paused. “This is scandalous.” He commented, an unreadable expression. He flipped the magazine around so you could see; a hot model in skimpy lingerie.

You snatched the magazine from him, tossing it on your nightstand. “Bet you liked it too, weirdo.” You grinned, joining him on the bed. You sat beside him, legs tucked beneath you.

“Was thinkin’ ‘bout how you’d look in it, actually.” He sat up.

Your face burned. “Creep.” You stated, leaning in once more to kiss him on the lips. A sweet connection.

You settled down, lying with your head on his shoulder.

Exhaustion pulled you towards the depths of sleep. You fought it off, hand momentarily tightening around his hoodie. “When do you leave for Italy?” You asked in tired murmurs.

“A week and a half.”

Something between a whine and a hum vibrated your chest. “Don’t go.”

He ran a hand through your hair. “I’ll be back before you know it, pretty girl.” He paused. “How about I bring you back a souvenir?”

You didn’t answer, at which point Oscar peered down to see your face. Completely at rest in your sleep.

He kissed the top of your head.