#martini vents

[jealousmartini]

Does anybody else get this feeling that they're running out of time? Even though I know time technically doesn't exist but it does at the same time, and as long as I know I already have everything in my reality, what I see in front of me doesn't matter, I still have this annoying feeling that I need to hurry up?

But I just started affirming in my favour to calm me down and its working so I feel better now

I just needed to get that off my chest

[nicheguides]

How to Distract Yourself from your Quest for Purpose

looking for purpose is hard! harder than you realized… maybe give it a break, just for a bit~

[venacoeurva]

He got here and is chillin

[storythesilly]

man am i really okay

[angeltism]

I hate everything

[slapiz]

Moisés Finalé: La belleza radical

Moisés Finalé ... “un arte con dimensiones antropológicas y vocación intercultural donde los colores y los contrastes dan toda su autenticidad a los misterios que esconden” YT

Otredades, nueva expo del artista cubano Mosés Finalé, podrá ser visitada en la Galería Villa Manuela (interior de la UNEAC ) del 20 de abril al 20 de junio. Yamilé Tabio En ese ir y venir cruzando el océano, Moisés ha encontrado un estilo que lo identifica, una marca, un código lo suficientemente inclusivo como para permitirse la asunción constante de nuevas técnicas y estrategias…

[cherubfae]

Hello! I love your writing, it's so cute! Here's an Idea bouncing around in my head: Reader is a shy and easily flustered individual who's developed a crush on Alastor. However they try to keep their distance as they know he's Aro/Ace and doesn't want to overstep boundaries. They go to Lucifer a (somewhat) expert on romance and feelings of longing to vent, also developing a crush on Lucifer- (Reader is a hopeless romantic lol)

Anyway, hope you have a nice day and remember to drink water!

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯, 𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, miscommunication, blood/injuries, mild nudity mention, divorced!Luci, I had to make it a bit comical, I made this too angsty for my own liking now I'm sad 😭, protective bois

This is a one shot. I won't be writing a part two. Thank you! :)

A dreamy sigh echoes from your lips, swirling down the empty hallway. You're sitting on your bed with your knees pulled to your chest with a clawed hand over your heart. Sometimes you miss the thrum of your heartbeat against your fingers. With all of the people occupying Hell, you didn't expect to feel quite this lonely.

You stare down at the pocket watch in your hands. Such a tiny device cost quite a fortune, but it was a true antique having been manufactured in the 1920s. Your intention was to give it to Alastor. Yet, you never did.

Despite everything in your being wanting you to give him the simple gift, a token of your love and your friendship, you just couldn't. You were already internally setting yourself up for a failure that may not even come. You weren't sure Alastor would ever be into someone, let alone you. So, allowing these thoughts to fester you withdrew yourself from him. Forcing smiles when around him and the others, faking laughter; all of which Alastor could see right through. Every time he tried to seek you out, to confront you, you were already engaged with someone else or another task for the hotel.

You were actively allowing your depression to swallow you whole all the whole not realizing that if you had only asked, Alastor's feelings are the same as yours. He just didn't know how to approach you and Rosie thought it best to let you come to him; yet you never did. Even Alastor was finding it a bit hard to keep that smile on his face. Why won't you just approach him? He...He can't do it. Please.

A dreary day in Hell with violent lightning and thunderclouds and acidic rain brought you into the company of Lucifer Morningstar himself. He could smell your sadness from miles away and like clockwork, he instantly pulls you under his wings.

"Now then, sweetling, what brings you to see the Big Boss Man Himself?" Lucifer grins, crossing his leg over his knee nursing an apple martini with an apple slice hanging off the sugar-dusted edge. He serves you whatever drink you may like, alcoholic or non-alcoholic.

"I'm in love with Alastor and I don't know what to do! I'm scared to get too close to him because I'm not even sure he's into me like that and I don't want to get hurt!" You sob, the words come pooling out of your mouth like a waterfall and so do the tears.

Lucifer visibly bristles at the mention of his rival, almost choking on his drink. With a snap of his fingers, his martini glass vanishes with a poof! His full attention now on you. Gently, he takes your hand in his gloved one.

Softly, he begins. "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real. It's not the end of the world, not by a long shot. Everyone who we meet and who we love crosses our paths for a reason. To teach us something, either for a short chapter or they'll be lifelong companions. Even in the afterlife, there are still people worth risking the hurt for." Smiling wobbly, Lucifer embraces you close. "Take a few deep breaths. If this is truly how you feel, talk to him about it. We may be magic down here in Hell but not all of us are mind-readers, darlin'."

For the first time in a long while, you smile too. Embracing him again with a laugh.

Standing to leave, you turn to your friend. "May I see you again?"

Lucifer let out a tiny gasp, a slight pink hue coating his cheeks. "I'd like that a lot!" He jumps up. "I can show you how to paint rubber ducks!"

When you finally return from your outing, you're in a much more visibly happy mood. With eyebrows raised, Alastor watches from the shadows as you whistle a happy little tune and make your way up the stairs and veer to the left towards your bedroom. A familiar scent clings to your own, one that makes his lips curl back in a vicious snarl. Lucifer.

"Now darling, I think it's time that we have a talk--" Alastor materializes from the shadows, fully manifesting into your bedroom. You shriek in surprise.

Immediately, you snap. "Alastor, what the fuck! OUT."

Alastor, who has been turned away from you, spins to face you aghast that you'd speak to him in such a manner as you never have before, only to quickly cover his eyes. You were standing in the privacy of your bedroom, almost entirely naked except for those flimsy bottoms you called your underwear. Alastor swallows thickly at the sight of your bare skin, even when you wrap your blanket around your body. He feels lightheaded.

"My apologies, dearest. Ta-ta!" In a plume of smoke, Alastor fades out of the room. By the time he returns to his radio tower, he's gasping with his palm covering his face which was now nearly as red as his hair. He's ashamed he hadn't shown more decorum and instead witnessed you in such a state. Even when angry with him, you had never looked more alluring.

Lucifer swung by the hotel rather unexpectedly, surprising Charlie with a new plant for her bedroom and crushing Maggie into a huge hug! The place was really coming along, he had to admit. There was a more inviting atmosphere to the hotel now since it was rebuilt. It almost felt cozy.

"Dad, what brings you by?" Charlie smiles, carefully handing the plant over to Vaggie.

Lucifer smiles. "I'm here to pick up a friend for a little coffee date and I figured I'd say hi to my favorite daughter and my favorite soon-to-be daughter-in-law!" He coos, squishing Charlie's cheeks between his gloved hands.

On queue, you're walking down the stairs into the foyer. "Lucifer!" You beam, a large smile crossing your cheeks. His tummy flutters at the sight. The outfit you had on was darling, suiting you to a T.

A crackle of static explodes into the front lobby, the Radio Demon taking form between you and the Morningstars. Alastor's eyes immediately narrowing at the unwelcomed guest, at least in his mind.

Laughing nervously, Charlie wedges herself between her father and friend. The air rippled with electricity as the two stared the other down.

"Okay, you two, calm down. Let's not start anything, ok?" She glances at Vaggie for help who simply shrugs her shoulders; setting Charlie's new plant baby aside. Approaching slowly you stand by Lucifer's side. Placing a hand on the King's shoulder, Alastor nearly explodes with radio feedback. An eerie green glow consuming his form.

Static voice dripping with malice spits out, "You're going out with him." It wasn't a question.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you nod at Alastor. "We're going out for coffee."

The Radio Demon is practically seething with venomous rage--not at you, but at the puny little shortstack of a King who thinks he can meddle with those in his life. "You don't deserve their attention, Morningstar."

Lucifer balks. "You had your chance, pal! You snooze, you lose." Alastor's expression turns to one of confusion.

"What do you mean?" The radio filter is gone from his voice.

Snarling, Lucifer glowers at him. "They were in love with you! And now I'm here to pick up the pieces-- oh, fuck, you didn't tell him did you, sweetling?" His gaze is gentle as he regards you. You're begging for the ground to swallow you up.

Fighting back tears, you fidget on the spot. You're looking everywhere but at the two men who have held your heart captive. There was the love you held for Alastor, pure and genuine. How you got together like pieces of a puzzle. And then there was your love for Lucifer, intimate and loving. He was able to teach a part of you that you'd long forgotten. He helped you smile again.

Alastor shoves Lucifer out of the way, his clawed hands cupping your face. He wipes away those tiny tears with a gentleness no one in the hotel had seen. "Je t'aime tellement, mon cour."

Lucifer, now in his Full Demon form, shoves Alastor aside and grasps your arm. You let out a cry of pain, making the two males jump. With the appearance of his full form his claws had accidentally sunk too deep into your skin. Red leaked from the four deep gashes slashed across your skin, staining the sleeve of your lovely shirt. Your pretty eyes pooling with tears.

Like a true beast, Alastor explodes into his demonic form, arms outstretched to shield you behind him. Lucifer can only fixate on the blood dripping down your arm. Vaggie and Charlie are tugging you away while Husk prepares the First-Aid kit.

Lucifer is only able to stare at the tiny pool of blood you had left behind and the pain in his eyes. And then there was Alastor, ever the gentleman, always the one fighting for your honor, looking damn well ready to devour the entire fucking Earth for you.

And Lucifer felt he deserved whatever he had coming to him. His own words echo in his head: "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[pearlprincess02]

sagittarius sun, cancer moon, aquarius rising, sagittarius mercury, scorpio venus, scorpio mars

sagittarius sun: exuding charm and charisma, you may find that your personality itself is attractive to foreigners. a part of the radiance you exude and the opinions you express may give off a certain flexibility that can be welcome in cultures outside of yourself.

cancer moon: check in with how you treat your mother. do more chores in your home, help out with laundry, doing dishes, organize your home more, clean it more often. learn how to cook, bake more. you are likely bottling up your emotions or suppressing your innermost feelings, even needs. learn what your needs are, especially what you require from your loved ones, family members, your partner. vent, cry out your tears, embrace the flow of the good and the bad sides of emotion. try to provide for your family more.

aquarius rising: kinda look like aliens but in a hot sexy way, can get along with anyone they talk to like virgo rising, rebellious and a trendsetter who can attract a lot of copy cats, these people actually knew the song before it was famous, has a lot of friends that are all different personalities - they could have one nerdy smart friend and another friend that’s the captain of the football team (this is cliche but yk what I mean)

sagittarius mercury: a refreshing wit and a depth that can convey understanding outside of yourself. you may also be able to learn many languages with ease. the way you speak in general is notable to foreigners and attention grabbing. your sense of humor and the jokes you tell may also hit off better with people from a different cultural background.

scorpio venus: psychology, neck tattoos, “until death do us part”, kings & queens, snakes, sacred sex, chess, secrets, hickeys, the feeling after you stay up all night, the feeling of being at a concert, roses, knives, tequila shots, legs intertwined, dirty martinis, sparklers, avril lavigne, fantasy books, true crime and dark history

scorpio mars: scorpio mars may have a tendency to keep their emotions very bottled up and internally processed, which can result in a tendency for bottling up feelings of anger and frustration, and releasing them in intense outbursts at times. this can result in a tendency for outbursts of anger and intense reactions that may seem disproportionate to the actual situation at hand. they may also be drawn to the taboo and mysterious, and can have a tendency for being secretive and intense. they may sometimes have a sense of self-preservation that leads them to be overly secretive and distrusting.

(anon ask)

ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒ���ˢ ᵃʳ��ⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ

[prettyinpurplelights]

kylian mbappe headcanons on what it would be like to date him?

Dating Kylian

(speaking from first hand experience of course 🤭) (Also i literally cant help myself i had to do a “how did you start dating”)

You meet Kylian at your distant cousin’s wedding, you weren’t even supposed to be there, but your mum had come down with something last minute and forced you to attend in her place

You’re at the bar at the reception with a caramel apple martini mocktail planning your escape when a handsome guy comes up to the bar orders the exact same drink

“I think you’re the first guy today to order that.” You say as he’s about to leave

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow

god he’s so handsome

“Not a dark liquor type of guy?” You ask

“Ew” He scrunches his face. “Definitely not, I like sweet things.”

“Ditto.” You raise your glass at him, nodding

And with that interaction, you find yourself in his car 30 minutes later headed back to the city, which is a whole 3 hour drive

He’d also been looking for an excuse to leave so he offered you a ride

You didn’t know this man or why he was being so generous but you were so desperate to get out, you hated weddings, especially when you know almost no one, so you took him up on it

Off topic: Mbappe driving…🧎‍♀️

You figure out who he was 2 hours into the drive when “Ramenez a la coupe de la maison” blares out through the speaker and you gasp so loudly when you realise he laughs

“My brother is going to lose his SHIT when he finds out THEE Mbappe drove me home.”

“Give me your phone.” He says when you finally reach your apartment. He punches his number into it

“Proof for your brother.” He winks, and suddenly you feel shy under his gaze

Fast forward to 4 days later and Mbappe is definitely sure you’re ghosting him

He’s venting to Neymar who just laughs at him because finally Kylian couldn’t bag a chick he wanted and Achraf being the voice of reason saying perhaps you were busy

It’s not for another week until he gets a text from you

“It’s Y/N’s brother. Prove you’re Mbappe and call her.”

He wastes no time ringing and the first thing he sees is you screaming at your brother to give the phone back

“Holy shit Y/N, you weren’t lying.” Your brother says

“You owe me 20 euros, dickhead.” Your face comes into view and you’re flushed and looking frustrated

“Hi.” You say to him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Kylian laughs. “I’m glad your brother called, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh.” You blush

2 weeks later you’re going on your first date and for some reason Kylian is nervous

Kylian is confident, he knows what he wants and how to get it, never sweaty, never shy, never nervous but for some reason he wanted to impress you so much he works himself up over it

He picks you up with a bouquet of roses in his sweaty hand and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek which drives him slightly insane

Your date goes very well and you have another, and another and before you know it you’re his girlfriend

OKAY NOW TO THE DATING AKSHJSKSJS SORRY

KYLIAN IS A GOLDEN RETRIEVER/SUNSHINE BOYFRIEND AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL (my king of aeygo 🫶🏿)

Whenever you hang out at his or your place he’s basically on your leg like a koala

You can’t leave or enter the room without giving him a kiss first or he’ll pout and whine until you do

He absolutely loves cuddling, he’s the big spoon always (Alexa play cuffing season by sza)

Hugs from behind >>> he’ll just randomly wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin in the crook of your neck or pepper kisses across your neck instead

He also likes lying his head on your lap so you can give him head massages, he’s loves them a lot

Kylian spoils you way too much

“Hey babe remember that necklace we saw last week in the window you said you liked”

“Kylian that was just a passing comment please don’t tell me you-“

And he always presents the gifts with the cutest smile on his face, both his dimples shining so you can’t be mad at him

He knows you can’t be mad at him when he smiles like that and you know he won’t return anything you ask him to

He’s even worse on your birthday and valentine’s

You absolutely don’t know how he rents out the entire louvre for your first valentine’s together but he somehow does

“Baby, I’m Kylian Mbappe.”

Cocky little shit.

It’s the best date you’ve ever had, a candlelit picnic set up on the floor of the museum

You both hate fancy dinners however so your regular dates are always fun things like amusement parks, or roller skating, visiting new cities when he has the time and arcades

He’s a TERRIBLE loser btw kylian absolutely does not like to lose grumpy boy

You kicked his ass at fifa once and he gave you the silent treatment for a few hours

It never lasts longer than that because he’s missing you then he’s all over you again

Kylian loves kissing you, ik that boy is a phenomenal kisser i know it

Horny as fuck too.

He cannot keep his hands to himself however hard he tries, especially in public when you’re trying to not look obvious

He’ll put his hand in your back pocket, he’ll pull you into an alley and kiss you senseless, he’ll whisper in your ear for absolutely no reason because he likes seeing you hot and bothered

Your relationship is still private so he makes sure he pays you a lot of attention behind closed doors

He always makes sure you’re pleased first, he loves the way you moan his name and the sounds you make

Your lucky day is anytime he scores a hatrick, he makes sure you reach at least 7 big O’s in honour of his jersey number

You in his jersey - drives him CRAZY

You wearing his clothes in general, his favourite thing to see, especially first thing in the morning

You don’t argue a lot, but it happens, and you’re both stubborn af

He’s always the first to apologise though, especially if it’s when he’s come from a bad game or training session and that’s what causes the argument

As mentioned, Kylian doesn’t take loses very well, and sometimes he takes it out on you, but he doesn’t mean to

You do your best to be there for him in those times

There was a particularly bad argument because of a tabloid post and you went 4 days without a word to each other and he thought he was going to die

The make up sex is- *call drops*

He always holds you extra tight after

Your family absolutely love him, your mum especially

“You and Kylian are coming over this weekend? Is his favourite food still _____? I must go shopping.”

He always gifts your brother tickets to his games, you’ve gone a couple of times together and Kylian will always look up in the stands for you with a smile

Of course no one knows who he’s looking for

Until they do

The day your relationship is leaked was probably the worst day of your life, you had to take a few days off work because the paps wouldn’t leave you alone it was an absolute nightmare

Kylian was there for you the whole time, assuring you, loving you, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere

Once the media moved onto someone else, the relief of not having to hide anymore felt great

Especially for Kylian because he could now hold you hand and kiss you wherever he wanted, which he made sure he definitely did

He’s not possessive but he’s absolutely jealous, he knows you’re stunning and people look at you whenever you’re out

Makes a point of PDA when he notices someone staring

“Kyky they’re probably staring at you, not me.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Now you’re in public relationship, you can sit with the other wags at his games so he know exactly where to find you when he wants to dedicate a goal to you

Champions league games and international friendlies are the worst when he had to travel and you can’t always go with him

He’d always call you before the game, he claims you’re his “porte bonheur” (good luck charm) or something of the sort

He comes straight to your apartment from the airport every time

His favourite days are lazy mornings with you when he doesn’t have training

He likes to cook for you sometimes, but he mostly steers clear of the kitchen

Especially after the time he almost burnt it down trying to make tacos

Also boy can he eat

You’re both big foodies, you have a spontaneous date night every week where you pick random restaurants or food truck places to try out

You’re sat on a bench at 11pm, 6 months into the two of you dating, with mouthfuls of food from a place you’d seen on tiktok when he asks you to move him with him

You’re hesitant at first because you do enjoy having your own space but you agree to it, you were over there a lot anyways, would be easier

And he said you can convert one of the spare bedrooms into your own safe space

Kylian is a huge romantic, corny too so he’ll leave little notes around the house for you

“You’re the straw to my berry” you find this in the fruit bowl

“You’re so sweet, I get a toothache just looking at you.” this was on the mirror above your bathroom sink

Stupid nicknames

“Kyks if you call me “your little avocado” or “your cheeky cotton bud” one more time, I’m calling you Donatello next time we have sex.”

He sticks to ma cherie or mon amour from then on

Living together means domestic things like cooking together and negatives like Kylian stealing your skin care products

And he absolutely has to do a face mask also everytime you do one

“Kylian this shit isn’t cheap keep your hands off!”

Next time you open your bathroom cabinet, there’s 6 of every product with a note: “I know something else that would be great for your skin, I’ll show you tonight.”

You’re very glad that night Kylian’s apartment is sound proof

Movie marathons together

Marvel and Disney especially, he’s team Iron Man 👎🏿

You absolutely cannot stand horror movies, but he loves them, you think it’s mostly because you always end up in his arms with your face in his neck to avoid watching them

Becoming really close with the other wags, especially Achraf’s wife Hiba, she becomes like a sister to you

Joking Kylian and Achraf were going to leave the two of you for each other

You and Kylian going to support Ethan at his games and babysitting his neice and nephew, he loves seeing you with him

So much so he asks you one night how you feel about having kids with him

“NOW??”

“Of course not now Y/N. Just at some point.”

You say yes

So he proposes 2 months later, he doesn’t care you’re young or have only been dating 15 months, he loves you and can’t see himself with anyone else

You say yes

2 years after your wedding you welcome your first child together, a baby girl the spitting image of Kylian and he’s never felt so content with life and how everything has turned out for him

——-

I hope this is okay 😭 I’m terrible with headcanons bc i always end up wanting to just write a fully fledged fic instead 😵‍💫

[writefightandflightclub]

Sugar

Grad student!Nathan Bateman x older!fem!reader

Author’s note: I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS CONCEPT TBH BUT DON’T WANT TO GIVE SPOILERS SO WARNINGS ARE NON-EXHAUSTIVE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK I GUESS? (As ever, minors DNI, thank you!) And I blame Oscar at MEFCC in the black polo and @nowritingonthewall’s hc of young!Nathan sneaking into tech conferences for this one. (I’m imagining him as getting towards his mid twenties here.)

Word count: just a short one!

Warnings: power / wealth imbalance, and slight warning for dub-con due to this. Sexual touching (slightly public). Infidelity. Alcohol consumption (reader). As mentioned above, warnings are non-exhaustive this time to avoid spoilers. If you do need further info, however, you are welcome to DM or send an ask.

“Not touching the oysters?” Nathan asks in as suave a tone as he can muster. The only oyster he’s personally sampled, so far, is the oyster sauce at his favourite downtown take-out.

Your plate of extravagant buffet food is discarded next to you, however, as you pore over a stack of documents at the hotel bar, a martini in a tall, flared glass languishing in your free hand.

You whip your head towards Nathan and look him up and down; as though deciding whether he’s worth the time of day, or whether you should immediately summon security to remove him from your field of vision. You seem to find him relatively inoffensive, at least, and grant him permission to remain in your orbit; for now. You hum contemplatively. “Decided I’ve had my fill of vile sensations for today,” you announce in a cool, assured tone. “I had to fuck my husband this morning. Twice.”

Nathan emits a low whistle. As much as he tries to take it in his stride - to act like he’s accustomed to affluent, worldly, cut-throat women like you - he isn’t. Honestly, he’s barely accustomed to anyone at all lately, since he’s immersed himself entirely in getting his start-up off the ground.

You’re older. Older than him, at least. Older than any woman he’s been with so far, he can’t help but think. That, along with your candidness, is refreshing. You’re not all giggly and earnest and chaotic like the young women he’s met around campus - which sounds far less exhausting to him, if he’s honest.

He looks you up and down in return. And, yeah. Shit. He definitely wants to fuck you.

“He doesn’t get you off?” Nathan asks, crude and casual, as though he has any business asking. However, he’s found that a complete disregard for social norms can -oddly- sometimes pan out in his favour. Sometimes. Besides, on this occasion he has to risk it, or social norms would dictate that he shouldn’t approach you at all. At least not before he’s in possession of an invitation-only credit card, or, has made a hard-to-come by appointment via your PA at the very least.

You take a sip of your drink and eye him over the brim. He likes that move. Your eyes are full of deliciously dark amusement as you appraise him. He thinks you may even like what you see. Might even find him refreshing too. “Well. It’s not love - or anything else so impractical. It’s strictly a business arrangement,” you explain, as though you have been waiting for an opportunity to vent and no-one has actually bothered to ask you. “He pays for my lifestyle and I put out. And occassionally have to, you know, run his fucking company, attend boring conferences to schmooze his investors, and generally mask his total ineptitude.” You gesture around you vaguely. From the tiredness in your tone, it makes sense that you’re hiding out in this deserted hotel bar, Nathan thinks.

He knows fine well who your husband is too. A guy many, many years your senior. Obscenely rich fucker too. CEO and founder of a huge ass telecoms company, recently diversified into various markets across the tech world. The company is running an agressive acquisition policy, buying out start-ups and hoping to find something that sticks. The “next big thing”. It hasn’t succeeded yet. Projections look mediocre at best.

Nathan, who very much considers his innovation the “next big thing” - the only game in town - had tried to corner your husband at the end of his rather lacklustre panel. After all, he’d done his research. Had identified the highest value targets he could network with in attempts to drum up some investment. He is trying to bolster his sorely under-funded start-up… which, if he is honest, has barely even “started” at all. He knows the tech. The code. He’s a certified genius, for God’s sake. He was just a fool for thinking that that alone would be enough. Frustratingly for him, it’s the schmoozing and understanding of the cold realities of the business world he struggles with. He seems to rub people up the wrong way, for some reason. Probably because they’re all assholes. Or, maybe, because they view him as too young or too rough around the edges to know what he’s talking about. Or, most likely, because they’re uninspired bastards incapable of comprehending his world-changing vision. Maybe all of the above.

So much then, for the supposed merits of the free market and the idea that the best ideas will prosper. His idea is the best, and he’s floundering simply because his daddy can’t buy him his way in. Instead of a reliance on the strength of the product, networks and power and money and nepotism appear to be king in this world. And, Nathan possesses none of these advantages. Even with the buzz around him at his faculty, and his full ride scholarship at 17 for being a fucking genius.

Anyway, after a failed attempt to schmooze your asshole husband, Nathan had quickly put together that the guy didn’t have a goddamn clue. That you were the brains (and beauty, by the way) behind the operation, and he was likely little more than the funds.

Also, the guy definitely didn’t seem like he’d be a pleasant fuck, by any stretch.

He grimaces somewhat at the thought.

“That’s what they say isn’t it?” You take a breezy sip of your drink. “Fake it until you make it? They’re talking about orgasms, sweetheart, and my last performance paid for these shoes.” You kick out your appealing leg, your shins bare and smooth beneath your pencil skirt, and you briefly show off your shiny, black, red-soled heels.

They’re nice. Sexy, on you.

Nathan briefly wonders why you’re being so forthcoming with him, a complete stranger; but you don’t strike him as someone who gives a shit in the slightest what other people think. You also strike him as someone who can make people think whatever you want them to think. One day, he hopes to have as much power over a room as you do - and that’s for starters.

He slips into the bar stool beside you then, uninvited, and you scoff. “Are you even old enough to drink, baby face?”

He bristles at that, thick brows pinching and nods slowly, peeking at you from over the brim of his glasses, his own eyes now dancing with a subtle, dark amusement.

You’ve already turned away though. It frustrates him that he can’t entirely hold your attention.

“Nathan Bateman. Student, MIT.” You gesture to his name tag with a perfectly manicured finger, and without looking back up from your stack of documents.

Now, Nathan glumly reassesses his earlier conclusion. You are being forthcoming because it really doesn’t matter what he, specifically, thinks. Because you’ve already estimated that he’s the guy in the room with least influence. For now, at least. You’ll see. “Better to check. Especially before you start hitting on me.”

He swallows. “Is that what you think’s happening?” Shit. Do you want that to happen?

“Isn’t it?”

He’d make some dig about you flattering yourself. But he knows fine well it’s the most likely reason any hot-blooded guy would be sidling up to you. You’re hot and unobtainable; which makes you even hotter.

Nathan watches as you idly spin your wedding band around and around. He’s surprised you can even lift your arm with that rock attached. When he notices it, he wants to fuck you even more than he did before, but he definitely can’t afford you.

“Actually. I wanted to pick your brains on something. You seem the kinda person who knows a good idea when she sees one.” Unlike the other idiots at this conference who’ve refused to give him the time of day. Maybe he should reconsider his pitch.

You scoff, still not looking up at him. “Honey,” you deliver in a silken, condescending tone, which he is surprised to learn makes him half-hard in his pants. “I charge for that too, and I get the feeling I’m a little beyond your budget.”

“Call it corporate social responsibility then. Supporting the students.”

“Sweetheart. I pay someone else to do that sort of thing for me.”

“Okay.” He takes it in his stride. Wants to show he isn’t fazed by you, even if he is. “Then I guess I am hitting on you. Unless that’s gonna cost me.”

You finally turn back towards him. Look him up and down again as if to remind yourself exactly what you’re dealing with. You study his cheap suit and his mop of curls and his freshly grown-out beard, and he is surprised how exhilarating he finds it to be under your scope.

Your lips curl with subtle amusement, your gaze growing downright wolfish as you survey him.

Fucking unreal.

You look like could eat him up and spit him out. Or… you could swallow, he fantasises briefly, gaze dipping down to your plush mouth.

You do like what you’re seeing, don’t you? Are intrigued by him. Finally. He encounters someone with some good sense.

“What’s it like?” he delivers with a smirk, feeling a resurgence of his familiar confidence as he successfully holds your attention.

You eyeball his fit again. “What? Tailoring?”

He bristles at your dig, but again, aims to present an unbothered exterior. “No. I mean.” His palm waves through the air. “Being a sugar baby.”

You tut at him. “Why, are you interested in a position?”

He arcs a single, thick brow. “I could be.”

“I don’t think my husband’s recruiting. Unless you want a 60-hour a week unpaid internship with zero healthcare and no dental.”

“No. I mean that…” His tie feels awfully constrictive around his neck all of a sudden. This is a bold move but… you have to speculate to accumulate, right? “…I could be yours.”

You clearly weren’t expecting that. And, as much as you try to pass-off that you’re used to jumped-up, cocky little shits like him offering to be your sugar baby, he can plainly see it throws you for a moment. Still, you compose yourself beautifully in no time at all. “I already have one man who saps my time and comes in two minutes flat. What would make you any different, honey?”

Nathan offers you a lopsided smile, opting not to contain the dark, lust-blown gaze smouldering behind his lenses. What does he have to offer, exactly, in this scenario? He purses his lips while he thinks, and then he lands on it: “I’m… hot.”

You look him up and down again, conceding - with a tilt of your head - that his argument is at least halfway compelling. “Hmm. Do you imagine, though, that I struggle for offers from hot, younger men?”

“Not in the slightest. You’re gorgeous.” And rich. “But I think you can do better.”

“Better like you? What makes you so special?” You’re having fun with this. He can tell from the glow in your eyes and the curve of your appealing mouth.

He offers you his best smoulder. It isn’t hard - there’s an easy chemistry between the two of you, he thinks. “There are things I don’t give away for free either.”

“Well,” you ask, leaning in close to him and cupping his chin firmly in your hand as you dip your painted lips towards the shell of his ear. “If I was to take you up on your very generous offer… What pretty things would you want me to buy you with the money, baby boy?”

Fuck. You smell good.

You smell edible, and his suit pants definitely fit far less well than they did when he donned them this morning. In fact, they’re getting increasingly tight around his crotch as his arousal swells for you.

With a tight swallow dipping down his neck and a rare nervous sweat dampening his shirt, he twists to gather some documents out of his backpack. You scrape your nails down his beard as he turns out of reach, and fuck, you’re doing it for him.

Then, gathering his cool, entering the domain he is expert in and is sure of, he flips to the page on costings in his business plan, sliding it across the bar to you.

He gives you a moment to study the text. The list of the equipment, personnel, marketing budgets and so on he needs to realise his rather extensive ambitions. Then, he leans in to you in return as you pore over his plan. He dips his mouth until his beard is tickling the shell of your ear.

“This would be a good start… Mommy.”

As you look back at him with a dark, lust-laden stare, looking as hungry as he feels, he wonders if he might leave this conference with some start-up funds after all.

If this comes off, then… fuck. He hopes you are as ferocious in the bedroom as it strikes him you are in other areas.

Your head is angled towards him, your lips parted in mild surprise. Your gaze briefly dips to the tenting arousal between his legs, and he doesn’t even attempt to hide it.

He has no idea where this will lead; but that’s the fun, isn’t it? Nathan is rather fond of experiments.

A hard swallow dips down your neck and you cross your legs, pressing your thighs together as you take in the substantial swell of him.

You gather a smile, and your composure. “Your business plan looks impressive, Nathan.” His name sounds good in your mouth. He wonders how his cock might feel in there too.

You hand the documents back to him, and you quickly gather up your things, slinging your stack of documents under one arm. With the other, you reach out your hand, offering it to him to shake. He obliges. “I’m certain we could come to some sort of… arrangement.” You free a business card from the holder in your tote and slip it gracefully into his top pocket.

He’s a little disappointed it isn’t your hotel room key, if he’s honest. He’d love to work on his current… problem… right away. “When would you like to… discuss things further?” he asks, as you dangle the promise in front of him.

“You’ll have to make an appointment with my PA,” you dismiss with a smirk. However, you seem keen to guarantee that he does. You’ll be fun to play with, Nathan thinks. “Will you do that for me, Nathan?”

He thinks about it. Decides it’s a no-brainer. “Yes.”

To his surprise, you then reach your hand down towards his crotch, pausing before you touch him and allowing him opportunity to protest. He doesn’t. And so, you settle your palm over the aching bulge between his legs. The warmth of you bleeds through the fabric, and Nathan struggles not to react to the pressure you apply, managing to limit himself to a ragged intake of breath. His eyes flutter shut, lashes fanning against his cheek. When he opens them again, he half expects his glasses to have steamed up.

“Yes, what?” you purr, giving him an abrupt squeeze.

“Y-yes, Mommy,” he stutters, almost choking on his words, and with that, you look very satisfied indeed.

He wagers, from the expression on your face, that you’ll definitely be motivated to seal the deal.

You sweep out and Nathan watches your ass sway in that tight pencil skirt as you go.

Fucking unreal.

[jealousmartini]

ughh today was awfulll

Everything is pissing me off, today is taking too long to end, my back aches, i feel stupid and guilty for not doing my robotic affirming for over 4 days, I don't feel like my ideal self, i tripped up the stairs twice, i crave attention, and i feel like im falling behind on my research even tho this is my third week into the project and the research is due to be done in 6 weeks. but you know one of my friends held my hand when they both saw I was walking alone so that's nice😞💔

I just want to go home ughhhh

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 9

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The next morning, they had to sit next to each other.

me when i’m a high school junior and had a huge falling out with my best friend who i’m totally not in love with last night but we still have to coexist in ap english class

The joint thrones today were under a silk awning, raised to protect Laurent’s milkmaid skin from the sun.

BRUTAL

Lady Vannes murmuring into the ear of a new female pet

oooooh what happened to the old one? drama alert!!

A part of Damen acknowledged, a little guiltily, that Laurent probably hadn’t deserved to get thrown around the training arena as a result.

laurent would disagree

Nikandros said, without looking next to him, ‘Your uncle has wiped out half of our army with two hundred men.’ ‘And a belt,’ said Laurent.

nikandros private twitter vent #11. incoherent violent stick figure jpegs

Damen said, ‘At least someone else has a chance to win at javelin.’

i understand that people like sports and it’s a fun thing to add to a pretty serious story but i am the buzzkill here and ugh. sports

In the stands, slaves rhythmically raised and lowered fans and brought shallow cups of wine that everyone drank except Laurent.

me getting ginger beer at the bar yesterday while the dude i was with drank an espresso martini and two whiskeys

He came forward naked, as was the custom in Akielos.

i feel like violent dangerous sports are a really good occasion to wear MORE clothing, but go off i guess

The two men scooped oil from the receptacle brought to them by the stewards, anointed their bodies with it, then they slung their arms around one another’s shoulders, and, on the signal, heaved. The crowd cheered, the men grappled, their bodies straining against each other in slippery hold after slippery hold, until Pallas finally had Elon panting, on the grass, the sounds an eruption from the crowd.

this is like the not-evil twin of the veretian court wrestling

Damen rose from the throne, and put his hand to the gold brooch at his shoulder. His garment dropped and the crowd roared its approval.

you know, damen’s lack of freaking out about some of the indignities of the veretian court make more sense now

‘Good fight,’ he said, taking his place again on the throne beside Laurent. He waved over some wine. ‘What is it?’ ‘Nothing,’ said Laurent, and found somewhere else to put his eyes.

hang in there buddy

‘What can we expect next? I really feel,’ said Vannes, ‘it might be anything.’

i love the slight disdain here

‘Who did this to you?’ ‘I did,’ Laurent said. Damen turned. Laurent stood in the entryway of the tent. He was arranged with elegant grace and his lazy, blue-eyed attention was all on Nikandros. Laurent said, ‘I meant to kill him, but my uncle wouldn’t let me.’ Nikandros took an impotent step forward but Damen already had a restraining hand on his arm. Nikandros’s hand had gone to the hilt of his sword. His eyes were on Laurent furiously. Laurent said, ‘He sucked my cock too.’ Nikandros said, ‘Exalted, I beg permission to challenge the Prince of Vere to a duel of honour for the insult that he has done to you.’ ‘Denied,’ said Damen. ‘You see?’ said Laurent. ‘He has forgiven me for the small matter of the whip. I have forgiven him for the small matter of killing my brother. All praise the alliance.’ ‘You flayed the skin from his back.’ ‘Not personally. I just watched while I had my man do it.’ Laurent said it with a fronded, long-lashed gaze. Nikandros looked physically sick with the effort of repressing his anger. ‘How many lashes was it? Fifty? One hundred? He might have died!’ Laurent said, ‘Yes, that was the idea.’

LAMEN HR COMPLAINT #8

god i FUCKING love this little confrontation. i appreciate how we can start easing into some more comedy with these specific characters, because nobody here is like actively enslaved or abused. they’re all on even footing, so shots can be fired for fun, and can be read as such. the analysis here, in short, is that damen and laurent are both insane about each other and nikandros just has to deal with it. laurent thinks it’s amusing to mess with nikandros, and to a lesser degree damen. and damen tolerates it because he knows laurent behind his performative cruelty, but can’t possibly explain that to nikandros. regardless, laurent has immunity from damen, which means he also has immunity from nikandros.

this is also a good way to show how both damen and laurent have started “settling” the matters of damen killing auguste and laurent punishing him in vere, since the last scene where both subjects were heavily referenced.

Angry as he was, Nikandros wouldn’t disobey a direct order. His training was too deeply ingrained.

i like this subtle moment. damen grew up in the same culture, yet one of his main Things in this series has always been disobeying orders he disagrees with. built different!

‘Why would you do that? He’ll defect.’ ‘He’s not going to defect. He is your most loyal servant.’ ‘So you push him to breaking point?’ ‘Should I have told him I didn’t enjoy it?’ said Laurent. ‘But I did enjoy it. I liked it most near the end, when you broke down.’

laurent calculated and performative cruelty to protect himself from being vulnerable, you know the drill by now

‘You didn’t have to come here. You could have sent a messenger.’ In the pause that followed, Laurent’s gaze shifted involuntarily sideways. A strange prickling passing over his skin, Damen realised that Laurent was looking at the polished mirror behind him at the reflection of his scars. Their eyes met again. Laurent wasn’t often caught out, but a single glance had betrayed him. They both knew it. Damen felt the hard ache of it. ‘Admiring your handiwork?’

damen: i know you came here on purpose to spend time with me alone when you totally didn’t have to laurent: [very obviously checks out damen’s bare back, and not just for the symbolism reasons] damen: you want to look at me so bad (because you have an emotional attachment to the marks and you want to torture us both about it, and also because you think i’m hot. in both cases you’re the desperate one here, i win)

‘I’ll join you after I’ve dressed. Unless you want to step closer. You can help stick in the pin.’ ‘Do it yourself,’ said Laurent.

this sounds like their prince’s gambit-era antagonistic, vaguely horny, reluctantly fond banter. we’re getting somewhere!

The fever pitch of the crowd was bloodthirsty. The okton brought that out in them, the danger, the threat of maiming. The second of two targets was hammered onto its struts, and the attendants gave the all clear. In the heat of the day, anticipation was an insect buzz, rising to a commotion on the south-western side of the field.

this is such a fucking terrible idea you are in a WAR. damen you are going to be KING. why are you risking your life to play a sports right now. it would be like if the person about to cure a disease decided to play a game of bowling with a 80% survival rate right before they finished the vaccine

Damen heard the reaction of those around him. The Veretian Prince was, at a glance, Damen’s athletic inferior. Certainly, he avoided the training fields. No Akielon had ever seen him fight, or take exercise. He had not participated in any of today’s contests. He had done nothing more than sit, elegant and relaxed, as now. ‘Veretians do not train in the okton,’ said Damen. ‘In Akielos, the okton is known as the sport of kings,’ said Makedon. ‘Our own King will take the field. Does the Prince of Vere lack the courage to ride against him?’

makedon wants that twink obliterated

Damen waited for Laurent to sidestep, to evade, to find, somehow, the words to extricate himself from the situation. The flags fluttered loudly. The stands were silent, to a man. ‘Why not?’ said Laurent.

FSIUFHSDIUFHSDF i love laurent so much it’s unreal. this is the same response you’d give if a friend asked if you wanted to get takeout on a thursday night. “yeah, why not?” mr. “probably” laurent strikes again

Mounted, Damen faced the course, holding his horse ready at the starting line. His mount shifted, fractious, eager for the horn that would signal his start. Two horses down from his own, he could see Laurent’s bright head.

their horses who are canonically in love with each other get to do homoerotic sports too!!

But the true challenge of the okton was this: if you missed, your spear might kill your opponent. If your opponent missed, you were dead.

i was going to say “thankfully there are no real-life sports that sacrifice the physical well-being and possibly lives of eager-to-impress youths looking for glory and compensation” but then i remembered american college football exists

Laurent could also throw a spear. Probably.

probably.

But all of that meant nothing in the face of the okton. Men died during the okton. Men fell, men suffered permanent injury—from a spear; from hooves after a fall. Out of the corner of his eye, Damen could see the physicians, including Paschal, who waited on the sidelines, ready to patch and sew. There was a great deal at stake for the lives of the physicians, with royalty from two countries on the field. There was a great deal at stake for everyone.

not beating the american college football allegations

Damen could not aid Laurent in the contest.

he’ll kill one of his own people by throwing a sword across a clearing to save his captor in book 2, but he won’t use his kingly authority to say “hey guys maybe let’s not put both of the army’s leaders, one of whom is the love of my life and also my divorced husband, in the hunger games right now”

There was something intellectual in the way he assessed the field, and it set him apart from the other riders. For Laurent, physical pursuits were not instinctive, and for the first time it occurred to Damen to wonder if Laurent even enjoyed them. Laurent had been bookish as a boy, before he had re-formed himself.

“he should be at the (afterschool dungeons and dragons) club”

Laurent dealt with the danger of the okton by simply behaving as though it did not exist.

that tracks externally, but i also think that inside laurent’s brain he does acknowledge it, he just has a precise threshold of acceptable risk

Instinct reacted before thought. The spear was driving towards his chest; Damen caught it out of the air, his hand closing hard around the shaft, the momentum of it wrenching his shoulder back. He absorbed it, tightening his grip with his thighs to keep himself in the saddle.

this would be even more impressive if it was not the solution to a dangerous situation you ACTIVELY MADE HAPPEN

All his attention was on the other spear, flying towards Laurent. His heart jammed in his throat. On the other side of the course, Pallas was frozen. In that stricken moment of choice, Pallas could only decide whether to dodge and risk his cowardice killing a prince, or stand his ground and receive a spear to the throat. His fate was tied to Laurent’s, and unlike Damen, he had no recourse for what to do. Laurent knew it. Like Damen, Laurent had seen it early—had seen the strut collapse, had judged the outcome. In the handful of extra seconds that this afforded him, Laurent acted without hesitation. He released his reins—and as Damen watched, as the spear flew right for him—he jumped, not out of the way, but into the path of the spear, leaping from his horse to Pallas’s, dragging them both to the left. Pallas swayed, shocked, and Laurent bodily kept him down low in the saddle. The spear sailed past them and landed in the tufted grass like a javelin.

an akielion wouldn’t think to do THAT, would they!!

(also, love the little parallel to prince’s gambit, with damen ripping the grate out of the wall and laurent’s meticulous scheming. here it’s not as much a competition as it is a mutual/cooperative victory, with damen stopping the javelin mid-air and laurent intelligently evading the other one headed towards him)

The crowd went wild. Laurent ignored it. Laurent reached down and neatly filched Pallas’s last spear for himself. And, keeping Pallas’s horse at a gallop—as the sounds of the crowd swelled to a crescendo—he threw it, sending it flying right into the centre of the final target. Completing the okton one spear ahead of Pallas and of Damen, Laurent drew his horse up in a little circle, and met Damen’s gaze, his pale brows rising, as if to say, ‘Well?’ Damen grinned. He hefted the spear he had caught, and from where he was on the far side of the course, threw; let it go sailing over the full, impossible length of the field, to thunk into the target alongside Laurent’s spear, where it rested, quivering. Pandemonium.

they are both That Bitch. perfect for each other, and now everyone knows it (kinda) <3

After, they crowned each other with laurels.

cute

There was a warmth in his chest whenever he looked at Laurent. He didn’t look often for that reason.

Their men would ride out unified, and if there was a crack down the centre, no one knew about it. He and Laurent were good at pretending.

no they’re not. they’re just becoming more entertaining and endearing than annoying and frustrating, so people are more likely to listen to them

Laurent took his place on one of the lounging couches like he was born to it. Damen sat alongside him.

and all was right with the universe

The whole room went silent. Makedon and Laurent faced one another. The silence stretched out. ‘You have the mind of a snake,’ Makedon said. ‘You have the mind of an old bull,’ said Laurent. They stared at one another. After a long moment, Makedon waved at the slave, who came forward with a fat-bellied bottle of Akielon spirits and two shallow cups. ‘I will drink with you,’ said Makedon.

i love this unlikely friendship. laurent is being socialized like a feral kitten

Laurent glanced at the wine that the slave had poured, and Damen knew with absolute certainty that if it was wine, Laurent wasn’t going to drink. Damen braced himself for the moment when every scrap of goodwill that Laurent had garnered for himself was thrown away—as every tenet of Akielon hospitality was insulted, and Makedon swept forever out of the hall. Laurent picked up the cup in front of him, drained it, then returned it to the table. Makedon gave a slow nod of approval, lifted his own cup, downed it. And said, ‘Again.’

extremely loud airhorn goes off SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

Later, when a great many overturned cups scattered the low table, Makedon leaned forward and told Laurent he must try griva, the drink from his own region, and Laurent downed it and said it tasted like swill, and Makedon said, ‘Ha, ha, true!’ Later, Makedon told the story of his first games, when Ephagin won the okton, and the bannermen grew misty-eyed, and everyone had another drink. Later, everyone roared when Laurent was able to balance three empty cups on top of each other, while Makedon’s cups fell over.

is this just what frat parties are like?

Laurent maintained a scrupulous posture until they were all gone, his eyes dilated, his cheeks slightly flushed. Damen spread his arm over the back of his own seat and waited. After a long moment, Laurent said, ‘I’m going to need some help standing up.’

i love that damen just Waited. he knew. he wanted laurent to admit it. they’re so funny

He wasn’t expecting to receive Laurent’s full weight, but he did, a warm arm slung around his neck, and he was suddenly breathless with the feeling of Laurent in his arms. His hands came up to steady Laurent’s waist, his heart behaving strangely. It was sweetly, impossibly illicit. He felt the ache in his chest. Damen said, ‘The Prince and I are retiring,’ and waved the lingering slaves out. ‘It’s this way,’ said Laurent. ‘Probably.’

‘Is today the first time you’ve been beaten in an okton?’ ‘Technically, it was a draw,’ said Damen. ‘Technically. I told you I was quite good at riding. I used to beat Auguste all the time when we raced at Chastillon. It took me until I was nine to realise he was letting me win. I just thought I had a very fast pony. You’re smiling.’ He was smiling.

drunk laurent happily telling damen about auguste :’) also the “you’re smiling” is so adorable, i love how we’re getting some dorky soft laurent finally. he contains multitudes. this, like, “suddenly aware that he’s being cute and appreciated for it, slightly indignant but also allowing it because it’s damen who thinks he’s cute” thing is wonderful and tbh i hope i can someday allow myself to be like that too :)

‘Am I talking too much? I can’t hold alcohol at all.’ ‘I can see that.’ ‘It’s my fault. I never drink. I should have realised I’d need to, with men like these, and made an effort to . . . build up some sort of tolerance . . .’ He was serious. ‘Is that how your mind works?’ said Damen. ‘And what do you mean, you never drink?

drunk laurent is so funny. and i love how damen is amused, endeared, and absolutely fascinated by the inner workings of this man. me too.

also, it's insane that laurent would ever ask if he's talking too much. taking too much is like his entire thing

side note: this is 100% how i am when i use any kind of mind-altering substances, like a sedative before a root canal. i remember detailing how i felt in my notes app at the time and then reading it later and being both impressed by the determination to remain incoherent and amused by the inserted notes of “why am i laughing” “why is everything funny”

You were drunk the first night I met you.’ ‘I made an exception,’ said Laurent, ‘that night. Two and a half bottles. I had to force myself to get it down. I thought it would be easier drunk.’ ‘You thought what would be easier?’ said Damen. ‘“What”?’ said Laurent. ‘You.’ Damen felt the hairs rise over his whole body. Laurent said it softly, and as though it was obvious, his blue eyes a little hazy, his arm still around Damen’s neck. They were gazing at one another, halted in the half-light of the passage. ‘My Akielon bed slave,’ said Laurent, ‘named for the man who killed my brother.’

“no shit, i got drunk”

It wasn’t unusual for two young men to wander the halls together, swaying, after a revel—even among princes—and Damen could pretend for a moment that they were what they seemed to be: brothers in arms. Friends.

you guys got publicly married-divorced and laurent told an entire army that you fucked each other multiple times. you wear matching arm cuffs. even your horses are in love. be so serious rn

The guards on either side of the entrance were too well trained to react to the presence of royalty leaning all over each other.

They Pretend They Do Not See It (not an HR complain bc they’re not really bothering anyone or breaking rules)

‘No one is to enter,’ Damen ordered the guards. He was aware of the implication—Damianos entering a bedchamber with a young man in his arms and ordering everyone out—and he ignored it. If Isander suddenly had a startling reason why the frigid Prince of Vere had foregone his services, so be it.

oh nooooo what a shame if isander backed off from your man, what an unintended and unfortunate consequence, oh nooooooo

Laurent, intensely private, would not want his household present while he dealt with the effects of a night’s worth of drinking.

just got a vision of laurent as heather chandler in the hangover/death scene. wearing that cunty little robe and talking shit

Laurent was going to wake with a blinding headache fuelling his corrosive tongue, and pity anyone who ran into him then. As for Damen, he was going to give Laurent a push in the small of his back and send him staggering the four steps to the bed. Damen unlooped Laurent’s arm from his neck, disengaged himself. Laurent took a step under his own power, and lifted a hand to his jacket, blinking. ‘Attend me,’ Laurent said, unthinkingly. ‘For old time’s sake?’ said Damen. It was a mistake to say that. He stepped forward and put his hands on the ties of Laurent’s jacket. He began to draw the ties from their moorings. He felt the curve of Laurent’s ribcage as the tie threaded through its eye. The jacket tangled at Laurent’s wrist. It took some effort to get it off, disordering Laurent’s shirt. Damen stopped, his hands still inside the jacket.

:)

Under the fine fabric of Laurent’s shirt, Paschal had bound Laurent’s shoulder to strengthen it. He saw it with a pang. It was something Laurent would not have let him see sober, a keen breach of privacy. He thought of sixteen spears thrown, with a constant effort of arm and shoulder, after rough exertion the day before.

fuck, that’s right. damn laurent

Damen took a step back, said: ‘Now you can say you were served by the King of Akielos.’ ‘I could say that anyway.’

he may be white girl wasted but he’s still our laurent

Lamp-lit, the room was filled with orange light, revealing its simple furnishings, the low chairs, the wall table with its bowl of fresh-picked fruit.

this time, the fruit basket guy just showed the kitchen staff a bunch of ao3 fics tagged “in vino veritas” and told them to make it work

Laurent was a different presence in his white undershirt.

makes him sound like a cryptid. blonde man jumpscare

They were gazing at each other.

we know.

‘I miss you,’ said Laurent. ‘I miss our conversations.’

he would not have admitted this under torture

(also, i really like how he misses their conversations first and foremost. laurent really does love damen for his mind and heart, more than anything else. damen is the same, but he's a lot more vocally into the other parts of laurent too)

It was too much. He remembered being strapped to the post and half killed; sober, Laurent had made the line very clear, and he was aware that he had crossed it, they both had.

damen is still afraid to potentially take advantage of laurent, especially because of what happened the first time laurent interpreted his advances in such a light (ow)

‘You’re drunk,’ said Damen. ‘You’re not yourself.’ He said, ‘I should take you to bed.’ ‘Then, take me,’ said Laurent.

Laurent lay where Damen put him, on his back in a half-open shirt, his hair tumbled, his expression unguarded. His knee was pushed out to the side, his breathing was slow as one in sleep, the thin fabric of his shirt lay against his skin, rising and falling with it. ‘You don’t like me like this?’

first thing, good for him. second thing, not good for him, because trauma, and the fact that he sees himself as a sexual object (i went a lot more into this during the chapter 7 re-analysis)

‘You’re really . . . not yourself.’ ‘Aren’t I?’

i do think damen means this as a “you could punish me for taking advantage,” but i also think there is the fact that damen doesn’t want a version of laurent who isn’t in his right mind (like slaves, who aren’t given the ability to have minds of their own). this calls back to the whole “you like it simple” thing in chapter 7, and it’s pretty satisfying to see damen prove laurent wrong!

‘I tried to kill you. I can’t seem to go through with it. You keep overturning all my plans.’

said with hearts in his eyes <3

Damen found a water pitcher and poured water into a shallow cup that he brought to the low table by Laurent’s bed. Then he emptied the fruit bowl of fruit and put it on the floor alongside, to be used as a drunk soldier might use an empty helmet.

THEY WORKED HARD ON THAT THEMATICALLY RELEVANT FRUIT BASKET >:( although perhaps this is its true thematic relevance? a means of damen helping laurent care for himself in recovery?

‘Laurent. Sleep it off. In the morning, you can punish us both. Or forget this ever happened. Or pretend to.’ He did all of this quite adeptly,

at least he’s getting more self-aware about his own blind spots, or at least his ability to have them

Laurent, falling through scattered thoughts into sleep, said, ‘Yes, uncle.’

i think this line honestly might have been a step too far. not necessarily because it’s a bad thing for laurent to say, i get that it makes sense for him to associate this kind of vulnerability with [redacted], and it’s even possible that laurent doesn’t drink now because the regent got him drunk before he [redacted].

why i think it miiiiiiight not work, is the fact that damen doesn’t oh fuck wait i JUST made note of a line where damen acknowledges how he can “quite adeptly” ignore things, literally a few sentences ago. i can’t even say he would have noticed, or made note of it, because that is his character. and the irony is like right there on the page. it’s frustrating to read, but it’s an intentional choice. well played as usual!

[kth1]

Office Santa (M) [JJK]

Office Santa [Jungkook x Female Reader]

⟶ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Office!Au, Holiday Party!Au, Christmas!Au, PWP, One-Shot, 18+ ⟶ WC: 7.4k+ ⟶ Warnings: alcohol, swearing, oral (m), fingering, small tit-play, unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Summary: On the verge of leaving the office Christmas party, you find a reason to stay just a little bit longer. ⟶ Author’s Note: This came to me on a whim. It’s been a long while since I’ve written for Jungkook, so I’m happy I finally could muster something for you readers! Currently I have not gotten a beta, please excuse any grammar mistakes. If you see something, kindly message me and help your girl out. Other than that, please enjoy this little fic!

Masterlist ⁂ Mail Box 

It’s your typical, over the top, annual Christmas office party. Suffering at the hands of HTU Tech’s lame excuse to extend congratulations to their employees for pouring endless hours of their life to keep the company on the ground. Being a lead systems engineer isn’t exactly what you wanted for yourself, but it comes easy when you surpass all your education with flying colors. It immediately landed you a career with one of the most renowned internet companies, and shortly after being hired you moved up the rankings.

But enough about you. You can care less about going on with your achievements as you aimlessly sip your dry martini. The olive speared stirrer gives you entertainment as you pretend to listen to your coworkers speak among another. Your true entertainment lands on the male standing across the busy room with his blonde hair teased and tucked behind a jeweled ear – showing off the dark undercut that hides beneath. The color is toned and perfectly compliments his gorgeous skin shade; you’ve always had thoughts of asking him who his hairdresser is. 

He wears all black. A silk button up with sleeves rolled up his forearms and tucked in at the waist, secured with a belt with a gold chape. Drawings of black ink tattooed into his skin peek out on his right forearm — you have never once seen them all in their full beauty or how deliciously far up they roam on his body. But you would give a thousand hours, maybe more, of your precious time to find out.

He’s your supervisor, Jeon Jungkook. At the ripe age of 30, he is the youngest chief technical officer known to the area. His father, the CEO of the company is to thank for his current status. But from all you know of Jungkook, he’s a perfectionist at heart. If he couldn’t handle the stresses of a CTO, he probably wouldn’t be placed in such a position.

You have no complaints on the matter. Month in and month out, you’re greeted with his presence. And boy, do you have a massive crush on this stallion of a male. The funny thing is, you don’t need to admit such admiration out in the open. Jungkook surely knows simply by the way you interact with him. With hopeless eyes and kind gestures of doing nearly everything he asks of you, he has you eating right out of the palms of his hands without even trying.

Jungkook entertains it – your crush. With subtle glints of flirtations and constantly blessing you with his attendance in your office. You would even dare to say he enjoys a good venting session. You’ve become something like an open ear for him, someone he can just speak with during work.

It’s only stayed within work too – the contact. Not once have you and Jungkook interacted outside these building walls. Neither one of you attempted to do so. And perhaps that’s best.

Because as the crowded office continues to fill with 200 of HTU Tech employees, you realize how large the world is. How many obstacles and potential roadblocks there can be if you even attempted to speak to Jungkook outside of a work occasion. The safety of finding out more of him would only be the times in your office while you diligently type away at your computer and hack and create codings.

Your martini disappears over the course of time as you continue to glance over at Jungkook who casually sips from his whiskey glass. It’s filled with scotch and an orange slice – called a Rusty Nail. You reckon he’s been tipping those back for hours now. All the while the party continues to exist and expand, stretching into the colder hours of the night.

Jungkook catches your eyes a few times. It always sends heat to your body and your heart begins racing. You want to blame the alcohol or the infuriating holiday lights gleaming down brightly, but you know the truth.

Even when you are never given a real sign of Jungkook’s interest in you, nothing concrete, you still hope there can be something. You cling onto the idea of him maybe one day slipping like when one steps on black ice. Hidden and deadly. Where your feet take out from under you and you land straight on your ass. That’s what you secretly crave and pray for.

A waiter comes over with a tray and another dry martini for you and you happily grab at the thin glass stem, bringing the liquid to your lips as you touch the rim. You’re not drinking your sorrows away, you’re just trying to enjoy the rest of the party before you depart back to your lonely apartment.

“And you still choose not to dance,” one of your closer coworkers, Jessi, comments. Her lips are pursed in displeasure.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you reply with a shrug.

The subtle heat burning down your throat from the alcohol is preferred in comparison to the pain your heels would endure if you danced the night away. Who wants their feet to be achy?

Jessi places a hand on your shoulder to give you an encouraging nudge, “I’m sure you’re lying.”

“It will be a secret you’ll never find out,” you stubbornly sit firm. You give her a brief warning look through the corner of your eyes, hoping she understands to not press you on the matter. “Besides, I’ll be heading out soon anyways. I’m getting uncomfortable being here longer than I need to be.”

A scoff resounds next to you, Jessi rolling her eyes while she admits defeat. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, leaning back into her chair as her eyes scan the dancefloor. It’s not that she needs you to go out there and enjoy herself, she’s perfectly fine on her own. But seeing her office buddy do nothing after dolling herself up is a bitter disappointment.

“I’m sure you’d catch the eye of you-know-who if you were out there.”

You shove yourself from the table, your chair protests with a skidding sound against the tiled floor below you. Your eyes snap to Jessi as you stand, gathering your minibag under your arm.

“I don’t need to dance to get his attention. I can easily have a conversation with him if I cared to. And I don’t,” you lie.

There’s a chime that rings from your cell phone. As you gather your coat from the back of your seat, you spy the notorious name on the bright screen in the palm of your hand. A small smirk grows on your lips before you chug the rest of your martini, letting the base of the glass on the table with a thud.

“See ya,” Jessi doesn’t spare you another glance. Already moved on to newer interests as her hand slides around the arm of the man sitting next to her. She knows she has lost you for the night, but unbothered by your quick withdrawal.

You gather yourself, walking away from the bulk of the party towards the stairs. With your nose in your phone, you walk your way towards your office one step at a time. Grinning ear to ear at the flutter of texts that gained your desperate attention.

[Superior J]: Where are you heading to?

[You]: Mind your business

[Superior J]: Is that any way to speak to your boss?

[You]: I didn’t realize I was texting the CEO…

[Superior J]: 🙄

[Superior J]: I’m still above you

[Superior J]: The gift exchange hasn’t happened yet

[You]: I know. 

[You]: I’m just grabbing my gift from my office and heading out after 👍

Your feet have brought you straight to the frame of your office door, distant from the busy gathering. Quiet. A white board with writing and magnets hang on the outside, notes and random drawings are littered across its expanse. Your freshly manicured fingers press into the keypad that unlocks your door with a special code – 0711 – and with the click of the door closing behind you you step further into your personal office.

Inside, you flick on a small light after you place your belongings on top of your desk. Aimless papers are scattered around, loads of your hard work on full display as you piece everything together like a diagram. The mess only makes sense to you; if any prying eyes dare to decipher what you have riddled all across your entire office, they’d be stuck in here all week.

One of your filing cabinets – the one decorated like a snowman made out of office supplies – holds the gift for your Secret Santa. You placed it here because it was easy to remember.

A bluetooth speaker and small flowering bonsai plant kit. It blossoms a blush toned flower during the spring and even during the fall with proper care. The wireless speaker is just an added bonus to the gift. You tied red and green ribbons around each of them, a bit lazy on your end but still maintained your festive requirements. You’re positive that your office-buddy, Namjoon — the one in the HR department, would enjoy these given his love for soft instrumental music and plant-life.

Two taps hit the other side of your office door. From the blurred glass you can see the silhouette of a person who shifts on their heels. You step up to the door, swinging it open to reveal a tall and handsome Jungkook, standing there with two empty glasses secured between his fingers and a highly expensive bottle of red wine in the other. He holds them up with a toothy grin on his face. Jungkook’s jaw slackens as he slowly eyes you up and down, running his tongue along his pearly whites. Your heart skips a beat when his gaze jumps to lock eyes with yours. You can clearly see the powerful, hungered vigor brewing in those deep brown irises that glint with mischief. One single eyebrow raise and you already lose any leverage you thought you could have on him.

There is a weakness you have towards a man who looks fine in a dress shirt and pants. Even more of a weakness with someone who has styled locks, a sharp jawline, determined nature, and an alternative edge to their appearance.

Almost like a bad boy who dresses up far too nicely. Where blacks, grays, and the occasional tans are his color pallet. Form fitting to his toned body which you can only guess he must have based on how the clothes fit on him.

You sigh in defeat, opening up a way for Jungkook to waltz right past you and into your office as if he owns the place. He settles the bottle and glasses on an open space on your desk, already twisting the top off and pouring the sinful liquid equally between the two full-bodied wine glasses. The bottle reads 1990 Chateau Petrus; the name alone sends a chill down the base of your spine.

“Not too much,” you refer to the glass half full. Your office door closes behind you as you walk towards the desk. “I’ve had plenty enough to drink tonight.”

Jungkook lifts your glass toward you, his ring clad fingers draw your sight instantly. “It’s expensive, I requested this one personally when we hired the open bar,” he announces. “You’ll enjoy it.”

You give him a sly look as you narrow your eyes at him, holding up the glass to your nose to inhale a quick whiff. To label the smell – it smells expressive and sophisticated, like a ripe fruit mixed with vanilla aromas. 

Almost like how you can describe the man who is standing in front of you.

He grins to himself as he waits to clink his glass with yours, a nonverbal cheer between the two of you – but for what? You don’t know. The dark red wine tastes extremely silky and mixed with a superb flavor concentration. Muscular but refined and toned. 

Almost just like how you think he must be under those black clothes.

The two of you tilt back a delicious portion of the liquid and each settle with a coquettish moan. An unnecessary sound for both of your ears, but neither one of you protest the act.

“Not bad,” you state as your eyes watch the liquid swirl in your glass.

“Better than those dry martinis you enjoyed yourself with,” Jungkook teases. He decides to sit in your chair as he lounges back to find himself in a comfortable position. His free hand begins to flick through random pieces of paper among your desk while avoiding the coat and purse you have plopped on the surface.

“Probably better than that pathetic excuse of that scotch you favor so much.”

You see how the playful bluntness fuels Jungkook to another level. It stirs something inside him and possibly that is why he confines in you more often than so.

“Want to tell me what these papers are all about?” He points a few packets stapled together. “Important or just brainstorming?”

“Brainstorming is important,” you admit. You snatch a clump of papers up with one hand, placing them to the side in a bin and away from Jungkook’s prying eyes. “You wouldn’t have a chance of understanding this. It’s all disorganized right now. Besides, we’re not working right now. So unless you want to pay me for discussing work-related things, then I suggest you change the topic.”

You watch as Jungkook refuses to look up at you as his eyes remain busy looking at your etchings and symbols written on your desk. His tongue prods the inside of his cheek ever-so-slightly, just enough to know you’re winding him up. The lines in his cheeks stand out when he sucks in. You would be stuck there for ages just staring at how attractive it is until the shine of his earrings catches your attention, glinting in the low lighted room.

“Fair enough,” he speaks. His wine glass is emptied into his mouth before placing it to the side. Finally, he is ready to give you his undivided attention. “Then talk to me about your choice of attire for tonight,” his hand points as he nods at you. “This,” — he smiles with his eyes as they trail you from head to toe — “Has nothing to do with work.”

A crushed burgundy velvet dress stretches around each curve of your body all the way down to your ankles. It’s cut from spaghetti straps, dipping low enough to tease any eye of your upper chest. Personally, you love the feeling of the fabric as you run your hands across it. Not only does it feel great, but it also tames your nerves whenever they act up — coaxing you calm. To match the lovely piece, you paired a black leather jacket with shiny silver buckles. Your heels help you stand taller, strapped around the front of your foot with a classy rounded toe, sparkling with silver.

Of course this is not your typical work clothes; it is a holiday party after all. And you surely are not the only one who is ‘dressed up’ for the occasion. Even Jungkook wears a franicer brand of clothes. He’s just not entertaining the spirit with reds or greens.

Typically in a work environment, everything — and you do mean everything — is strictly business. There’s no foolish nonsense or slacking off in this office. When your superior, Jungkook, wants something he expects to receive it in a timely manner. Sure he plays around with the ideas of certain phrases or words that will leave a lingering thought in your head. Teasing you with lighthearted flirtation; that’s just how Jungkook communicates.

But the way he looks at you right now, as if you are a meal he wants to devour, ignites something deep inside of you, causing a wave of arousal to flood your senses. It’s nearly haunting with his hooded eyes hiding the lust that pools in them. It’s a different look than you’re used to and it’s turning you on, making your insides turn and do flips with excitement.

“It’s a holiday party,” you remind him of the obvious. Heat sparks inside your body, “It’s a perfect excuse to dress up. Do you like it?”

Jungkook contemplates his response with pursed lips. He gives you a questionable look, one that looks like he’ll ask you “are you serious?”

“Of course.” His words come out clean and smooth. There is no hesitation with the truth dripping from his lips. He announces his likeness with confidence as his eyes remain glued to you. “It’s different from what I normally see you in, even the make-up,” he states the obvious, “Maybe we should change the dress code.”

You laugh with a scoff, shaking your head as you favor another sip of your wine. “I don’t think most of the staff can handle dressing up to this extent every day for work.”

Jungkook leans forward in the chair to rest his elbows on his knees. He engages his direction at you, tilting his head to the left as bleached strands of hair carelessly fall flat against his face. You can tell he’s ran his hands through his golden mane at least a hundred times tonight with the lack of styled gel or hairspray — making his usual upkept style look disarrayed and messy. It’s so inviting to you, creating images in your head as if you were the one to run your fingers through it and fist it. Under the low light of your office you also still notice his black roots that protrude so dominantly from the blonde. It’s like a bright, beautiful sunshine trying to hide the darkness and failing to do so.

“I was talking about now,” he admits with a quick wiggle to his eyebrows.

You don’t take the hint at first. Thinking immediately how this can just be another trick up his sleeve to get you flustered. How your soft pining for months on end has only ever been a fun game for Jungkook and teasing and toying with you; you assume this is just another occasion. 

So it’s no surprise to him when you still yourself in place, freezing under the pressure of a possible ‘what if' solution. The glass tightens in your hold as your mind washes over with endless thoughts of Jungook’s suggestive approach.

“Excuse me?” The words come out panicked, you don’t mean for it to.

Jungkook gives you that cheeky smile — the one that you know he’s satisfied with a good joke or when he first tastes a well made grilled pork belly (you can thank all the group office lunches for knowing this one). He stands suddenly, angling his body enough to lean his lower half against the edge of your desk. His movement makes you take a quick step back, but as you see him comfortably making himself a spot you ease up on the tension building inside of you.

He opens up his palm toward you and offers his hand to take. A clear cut sign that he’s requesting you. He moves his fingers in a come-hither motion, beckoning you to step in front of him.

“I’m saying you look absolutely stunning tonight, Y/n, and I want to see what you’re hiding underneath all that.”

The pounding of your heart only gets louder as it practically bursts out of your chest. You pray that Jungkook doesn’t hear it beating so rapidly. There’s a delay with your step, but you slowly reach out with your free hand nonetheless.

Jungkook pulls you in softly when his fingers hook around your palm, enclosing your hand with his. You slot perfectly right between his legs that act as a shield, caging you inside a smaller area and closing the space between the two of you. The warmth of his thick thighs barely touch either side of you, it sets a blaze within your body.

Tentatively, Jungkook caresses your wrist, guiding his hand up the underside of your arm to your elbow and soon to your waist. His fingers fiddle with the velvety smooth material of your dress, sketching small circles into the crushed pattern.

Heat takes over your body, you can feel it like flames are engulfing you. You’re far beyond a melting point. You’re being burned by the impressions his body is leaving on you, branding the memory and physical feeling to your skin. The ghost of Jungkook’s touch will now and forever come to your wake, reminding you how dangerously deadly he truly is to your well being.

“Don’t be shy,” he whispers as he politely takes the wine glass from your hold and places it aside. 

Jungkook licks his lips when the palm of his hand wraps around the small of your back. He nudges you even closer, making your thighs squeeze between his. You’re face to face with Jungkook as your hands begin to clam up and pussy begins to drip onto your panties. You can feel your nerves messing with your body, shaking your hands when you gently slide them to his upper chest, feeling the way his pectorals flex under the first contact. Even through a silk material, you can tell he’s fully defined — ripped and plump. The tips of his nipples stand out as they harden because of you, roaming your digits across his full chest.

Oh, you’re such a whore for a good rack on a man. Even more of a whore for him with his strong shoulders that sit relaxed with muscle, high and mighty, stretching the black material painfully tight around them. The most sinful of whores when those are paired with long lengthy legs that are defined by the Gods themselves, in which your supervisor just so happens to have. 

Jeon Jungkook is completely unfair to you. He quite literally hits all the check marks of what you find attractive in a man. And here he is, reeling you in like a fish caught on a line of his rod.

Speaking of that… You swallow thickly as you fight to look past his handsome chiseled features and toward his pelvis. Seeing how his dress pants bunch up from the angle of his legs but also from a hardening cock that is in the beginnings of straining against the material. That’s when you release a deep exhale of realization. Where you know this isn’t some game and what Jungkook is doing to you is because he is affected by you too.

“J-Jungkook?” you question with shock. The anxiety of fever courses through your body like race cars speeding on their track, running laps around in circles. You’re quite ready to burst like how a balloon does when too much air fills it up.

“Shh,” he attempts to hush you. He keeps his voice calm and low, maintaining confidence. His head leans towards you, slotting it dangerously close to the nook of your neck. Jungkook catches a whiff of your perfume as his nose runs up your skin. “I want to give you this if you let me.”

You shiver with a light moan escaping your throat. The contact alone makes your nipples rise and legs squeeze together. Your fists tighten on his shirt, accidentally pulling out the top button in the jist of the action.

“Give me what?” You dare ask.

Jungkook’s mouth hovers over your neck. Hot, heated breath fanning out. Your nails threaten to scratch over the fabric, talons coming to grip onto reality. He smiles with a hum, his eyes shutting as he nuzzles his face. His lips press into your pulsepoint, peppering small kisses up and down. You barely can feel the light sensation of the tip of his tongue leaving a line of saliva on your skin.

“My dick,” he states. “We don’t have too much time. They’re beginning to give out gifts downstairs.”

You gasp when Jungkook’s teeth scrap over you, pulling at the taut skin of your neck. He grins to himself when he hears your reaction and feels when you wiggle in his grasp. You can go weak at the knees in an instant from his touch, his heedy flattery. The one thing he doesn’t read from your body language or voice is any form of protest. And he takes it as a green light, to continue his pursuit to you.

“We shouldn’t,” you gulp. “What if someone is looking for us?”

“Nobody will be looking for you” – he kisses your jawline – “Because I’m your Secret Santa and I’ve already found you.”

You feel his fingers grip your jaw as Jungkook leans back just enough to stare up at you through lust filled eyes. He wears a lopsided grin. His beautiful brown eyes are trained on your lipstick covered lips and he can’t help but wonder how they look over his cock. With your sharp tongue and blunt responses he fully believes you can do wonders with this beautiful mouth of yours.

“Fuck,” you curse with an angered whine. You’re completely lost when you gaze over his features. Admiring the few and far speckled moles and freckles that decorate his caramel skin. “You’re infuriating, do you know that?” Your inflamed anger – anguish – takes over. The rage within you is not true fury. It’s the annoyance of how easily you become such a little vexed slut for him. Aggravated because you simply cannot say no to this man. “You’re so annoying!”

“You like me,” he teases. He raises his eyebrows to taunt you as well. “I could ask you to jump and you’ll say “How high?”.”

“You’re right,” you declare. To give him the satisfaction of being right. Your hands run up to hook around his sturdy neck, feeling the buzzed undercut on the tips of your fingers. “And you love it,” you throw shade back to him. Giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“I loved it the moment I realized how easy it is for me to get under your skin. Having such an obedient body underneath my guidance. Listening intentionally to each of my words.”

You know he’s referencing work, but he purposely uses certain phrases and sayings to draw your imagination to another realm. A different, dirtier, dimension.

Jungkook runs his hands along the sides of your body, crunching up pieces of your dress with his fists. He pulls you flatter against him, closing any proximity between the two of you, and finally you feel it. A hardened cock right against your front, caged inside the barricades of his pants. He holds you there, waiting for your move.

And you give in so easily. Pulling his face towards you as you lock your lips onto his, nearly smashing into another from all the months of pining and longing for his touch. You taste him the second he sneaks his tongue out, licking at the seam of your lips and prodding inside of your mouth. His hand reaches around to cup an asscheek, squeezing the bulk of it tightly.

You run your fingers up the base of his scalp, grooming his precious locks and messing them up further. Jungkook continues to push you onto him as you’re happily willing to lean your entire body. Pressing yourself further into the clutches of your supervisor.

“I want to suck you off,” you mumble against his lips. You hear the rattling of his belt buckle loosening up along his waist – Jungkook clearly would like that very much. “Right now!”

It’s all in a haste with the time constraints going against the two of you, so you waste no seconds in between. Dropping quickly to your knees as you assist Jungkook with releasing his cock from the obstacle of his zipper.

As it finally reveals, you don’t spare a moment to appreciate for all it’s worth. The length, the girth, the beautiful round of his mushroom cockhead – not even the beautiful protruding veins from the underside of his shaft.

None of that matters right now. You gobble down a mouthful before he’s able to shove the material of his pants down his thighs. Lips latching around the circumference of his cock as you stick your tongue out while sliding down further. You lather him up with your spit, making the glide of your mouth smoother as you coat him. He tastes a little salty, probably from a long day's use, but you like it. It’s almost hinted with a powdery musk that reminds you of sandalwood and rose petals – or maybe that’s just the alcohol confusing you. Whichever it may be, you fully devour the length of Jungkook with eagerness. Sliding his whole extent inside of your mouth and down your throat.

It reaches past the opening of your throat, stretching it wide to accommodate as much as possible. Your nose presses right into the trimmed pubes on his pelvis as you settle there to acknowledge and value the sweet, sweet soft whines escaping from Jungkook. His hand, running hot from how heated he’s become, places itself on the back of your head. Guiding you up and down on his shaft.

You’re slobbering all over him, using your fingers to pull his briefs and the elastic of his pants further down to not dirty them with your saliva.

Jungkook quickly becomes a mess of light tenor whines. It fuels your ambitions toward him, knowing you’re causing such an approving feeling of pleasure for him. He sounds amazing, even tastes amazing as you flatten out your tongue and lick right up his shaft.

But suddenly you rip away from his cock, pulsating with how close and desperate his orgasm is. He leans there, jaw-slackened and in a trance of betrayal from having pleasure ripped right out from under him and a fading climax.

Turning around, you tease the idea of your body as you raise your dress slowly. You look over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips, with the full intent to provoke Jungkook, to make him snap out of his daze. You use the high slit in your dress to reveal more of your upper thigh, showing Jungkook how easy of an access he can have. All he needs to do is come and get it.

Jungkook’s hands shoot out to grab at your elbows, pulling you back against him. Ass flat against the seat of his lap, molding you against him. You arch your back just enough to make your ass stick out more prominently, nudging right onto his slickened cock.

“Lift,” he pushes the material of your dress up. His hands roam greedily across your front, one dipping between the junction of your thighs to feel the sheer thong you wear and the other groping one of your boobs. Jungkook can feel how wet you are for him, using his rough fingertips to run along the slit of your folds, pressing the material of your panties into you. “You’re so dirty. So wet. I can’t wait to fuck you onto my dick.”

“C-Condom?,” you choke out a moan. He pinches at your nipple as his skillful fingers pull your panties aside and dips two of them into your leaking cunt. Jungkook’s face presses into your shoulder as he breathes out heavily, trying to draw your last breath out of you to make you breathless. “Jungkook! Condom!”

“I have one just for you,” he says with gruff. He plunges two fingers inside of your entrance, curling them sinfully once he hits the second knuckle. A sigh emits from his mouth, “Right in my wallet. Downstairs in my jacket.” He grasps your tit greedily, making it near to painful as he vigorously finger-fucks you. “Whoops,” he laughs sarcastically. Jungkook spreads his fingers in a scissoring motion, rotating them to spread your walls open. A sobbing moan leaves your throat as your legs begin to shake. 

You clench around his fingers and dirty words – how carelessly he just so happened to forget a condom. But his mouth is not making love to the shoulder of your skin as the strap of your dress falls down your shoulder, his fingers spellbind you and coax your mind into thinking that being irresponsible is better tasting than sugar.

“You’re kidding me,” you laugh. You’re slickening up his fingers with your arousal, making it easier for him to shove another one in. You spread open your legs wider, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Will you let me fuck you like this?” He whispers against your shoulder. Lips tormenting you as he sucks against a piece of flesh. “Raw?”

His bewitching capability with his hands along makes you fall harder for the idea. It twists the thoughts into your mind and floods your senses with only wanting one thing – which is pleasure.

“Or,” he huffs, “Shall I finger you until you’re right on the brink of cumming into my hand. Then tear away that chance just how you did me? I can draw it out for hours, making your body ache with tense muscles and a teased pussy. Would you like that?”

“We’re in a time crunch,” you remind him. “There’s no hours here to have.”

“Then decide fast,” he bites. His fingers dive deeper into your pussy, producing an obscenely loud squelching noise.

Your mouth goes dry with how you desperately breathe. You need him. You want him.

“Fuck it. Make it fast,” you surrender.

Jungkook traps your body immediately under him, swapping your bodies and twisting you around to press you against the desk. He feels heavy and blazing warm, tension rising as his own desperation comes pouring out of him. 

His hand collects the train of your dress and lifts it high above your ass as his hand presses you down against the top of all your scattered papers and coat. Jungkook grips his large hand around the naked base of his cock, tugging at it and squeezing every time it throbs in his hold. His fingers that were once inside your cunt now spreads your arousal over his cock, brushing the engorged head of his dick between your lubricous lips. The sensation itself is maddening enough to have you pushing your hips eagerly back to feel him. Wanting him to spear right into your walls.

“I knew you’d say yes,” he practically growls with a carnal rumble inside his chest. He places a hand on your hip; you can feel his nail digging deeply into your dress and surely will cause crescent indents on your skin.

“I said make it – Oh!”

You bite back your curses when Jungkook’s hips stutter forward on your impatient request, his length and girth starts entering you at a quick pace. Your lungs hurt from the excessive gasp you intake as shaky whimpers tumble from your lips. His enlarged dick, fully aroused and stiff, finally gets to explore the slipper velvet interior of your hot core.

Jungkook could care less with a slow adjustment for you, especially how you declared the needed pace of events. He refuses to go anything but fast, sinking himself to the hilt as you grit your teeth in an attempt to make it easier to endure.

“Shit,” you both simultaneously speak into the air.

Inch by tasty inch, he fills you to the brim with his cock. Pushing snug against your cervix and balls resting against your pussy lips. Jungkook drags his cock partly back out of your sobbing hole, a fresh coat of your glistening arousal casts a beautiful clear sheen on his raging erection. The sight makes him salivate, a mouth-watering and utmost beautiful scene he has ever seen. Just when you think you can breathe a breath of comfort, he sheaths himself back inside of you with a sigh of pure relief.

You crane your neck to look back at him, seeking the sight of Jungkook’s concentrating face and biting harshly down on his bottom lip. With a hand still tight on your hip, the other rests on your shoulder – using it to slink you back onto his pelvis as he runs full-blown assault on your cunt. Fucking into you hard, having your legs bang into the desk as you drool over your papers. His relentless thrusts hardly let up. His eyes glance over to yours briefly, seeing how they plead with a need.

He complies to you, knowing exactly how you want his lips on yours. Jungkook leans down, rolling his hips into you at a constant pace but pulls you up just a bit with his hand around your neck. Your body melts into his touch soon enough as his soft lips mold into yours, tense muscles relaxing as he calms you down with a languid kiss.

“I’m s-so close,” you whisper into his moistened lips. Soft whines already start to slip from your tongue. His pace quickens, knowing he, too, is also close to his release. “Jungkook,” you warn as your eyes shut with impending bliss.

Jungkook’s breath comes out quiet yet rugged. His rough hips continue to snap against your ass and increasingly becomes harder upon receiving your words. All those thoughts of seeing you wiggling underneath his body, all the times he’s pondered how your body feels against his fuels his imagination up until this point.

“Where do you want it?” He questions as his pelvis pounds into you.

You, on the last shred of your own sanity, dangle on a thin string. Your eyes shut tight, gleeful tears break the edges of your eyes and leak down your make-up. Your arousal builds with every heavy drag of his length against your insides. What stirs you the most crazy is hearing, and basking in full on glory, of the beautiful vocalization of Jungkook’s increasing pleasure. The sweet sounds of his lupine moans and guttural grunts as he loses himself inside you. It sounds like a sinful song and causes that tightening coil of tension in the pit of your stomach to snap open at any given moment.

Jungkook’s hold on your neck tightens as harsh trusts slam into you, each releasing an angry huff from his nose. He presses you into your desk, shifting the piece of furniture slightly with his strength. Your pussy flutters around his cock, arousal dripping down your inner thighs as you do nothing but wriggle under him.

“I d-don’t care,” you moan. You’re diving nose first into an ocean of pure bliss as your climax hits you so hard that your vision blurs. A loud sob falls from your lips and babbling curses soon follow. “Holy shit!”

“Look at you go,” Jungkook praises you proudly, kissing your cheek to your neck. “I’m going to bury myself in you,” he states. Smiling against your skin, “I hope you’re ready.”

And surely you are. Even though your pussy is spent from his onslaught, you continue to back yourself into him until he is ready to slip into madness. Make his entire body shudder before he vehemently plows his cock into you at least a dozen more times in sporadic, faltering thrusts. Jungkook’s eyes screw shut, hands gripping on either side of your hips and squeezing your flesh helplessly. Your walls continue to clench with excitement around his bulky shaft, making it his tipping point. Where he falls into himself and unloads everything inside of you as he holds you impaled on his pulsating cock. Spurting an abundant amount of his hot cum into every nook and cranny of your silky core, making sure not a single spot is left unpainted. His orgasm lasts for several moments as he stills, a strains growl resounding from his chest and a melodic whine slipping out of his pink lips. Drops of his sticky off-white fluid starts to trickle down your folds from bursting out the seams.

The two of you stay in that position for minutes until you’re drawn back to reality. Heavenly relief washes over the both of you as sensations that run through your body relax. You begin taking in your surroundings for the first time since you have both lost any notion of space and time, forgetting you’re in the middle of your closed off office, at work, where a holiday party continues to roar down the stairs. Your desk has shifted a good foot from its original resting place, papers have fallen or crumpled from your fist, and a mess has been made of your pussy.

Jungkook pants behind you, forehead resting on your back as he catches his breath, sweat dripping off the side of his face.

“Y/n,” he rasps, trying to recollect himself. “Are you good?”

You nod, a soft smile curling your lips. You wait for him to lean up and pull out until you stand up straight. Your hands feel around your hair, making sure everything is still in place. You pull up the straps of your dress and situate the body and skirt. Lastly, you cup your sex with your hand as you search for a solution of the mixture of both of your cum’s falling so freely from you. The nearest bathroom is down the hall, you can make it as long as there is nobody else around.

“I’m great.”

“Good,” he hums. 

Jungkook tucks himself away and fixes his shirt and pants. In the low lighting you spy a small red scratch along his chest before he buttons it back up, knowing very well you have caused that mark on him.

He stands there as he watches you contemplate what you want to say. To break the silence, he clears his throat to gain your attention.

“So, I think I need to let you know something.”

Oh god, you think. What on earth does he have to say? What don’t you know? Potential bad possibilities immediately run through your mind as you glance at him, gripping your coat and purse quickly from the desk.

Does he have a partner? Is there something going on in the office? Will he ask you to not speak of this – not like you would risk that anyways. Will he say he realized he fucked up? Messing around with your own worker is frowned upon, office romances are not allowed. What does he have to say?

As you stand there waiting for him to speak, like a knife held above your heart, you expect to endure any pain coming your way. Mentally preparing to brush it off, forget about it and move on.

“I’m…” he begins. Jungkook takes a step closer, “I’m not really your Secret Santa. I just used that as an excuse to get you to stay a little longer before you left for the holiday.”

“Oh?” You blink. Your eyes scatter around your office as if you’re searching for an answer. Why lie about it. “Ok, so then who is?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I don’t really care either. But I'm sure whoever has gifts for us, they’ll be waiting for us downstairs.” His hand comes to grab yours, playing loosely with your fingers when he gets a hold of them. “I just wanted to give you a personal gift. I’m assuming you like it.”

You hold your coat tighter towards your body, “I do. And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

“I wasn’t worried,” he smirks. His other hand comes up to place his fingers under your chin, “You got a bit of drool…”

You narrow your eyes at him, but allow him to touch you. The trickling wetness from between your legs reminds you that you need to clean up and fast. So you take it as a cue to break contact with your boss, but you make sure to throw him a little remark back.

“And you have a bit of lipstick on your face,” you smile with fulfillment. “Might need to wash that off before heading downstairs.”

The two of you stand there smirking. Your deadly game of flirtations have stepped deeper into a new territory. Where the sex card now has come into play. How everything that may linger between the two of you can in fact become dangerous if you keep entertaining new domains. But neither one of you want to resist that temptation. This is exciting and new.

Before you can gather up Namjoon’s gift, Jungkook pulls you in for one last, chast, kiss on the lips. A parting goodbye for now. But a promising note for you to remember for the next time.

A reassuring reminder that tells you he is ready to play this game with you.

© 2022 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[blissfullyecho]

how to start living in your “it girl” era | 2023 🍸 pt. 1

this is just a fun, random list. feel free to start implementing these ideas into your life to make you feel more like you’re in your “it girl” era 🤍 again: this is meant to be fun. no negativity please.

i. when at lounges, casinos, cocktail bars, nice restaurants, etc.

if you’re of age, try ordering more “upscale” beverages at the bar like classic cocktails (the manhattan, negroni, martini, etc.), wine, or champagne.

it’s also more fun to go during the downtime, late night hours on the weeknight (monday-thursday… even though thursday might start getting busy). unless you want to be in a louder environment where everyone and their mom is on top of each other, ordering over your shoulder because the bar is packed, then go at more quieter times. dressing up nicely, going to a nice establishment, and ordering a nice drink when it’s dimly lit, upscale, and there’s only a few people in there is such a vibe.

if you can, try ordering an uber luxe/premium to the restaurant or valet your car. ***make sure to tip***

ii. when at home

lounge in nice quality pj’s. silk/satin shorts and a sleepy shirt work very well. if it’s cold, opt for longer sleeves and pant legs.

drink water or any beverage you have in a glass, not the bottle or the can it came in.

of course, keep your place smelling good and clean. burn a high quality candle (i find that the expensive candles are definitely worth the money). for a home fragrance, lean less towards scents like vanilla, and more towards scents that are more perfume-like.

if you’re in the process of adding decor to your place, a lot of luxe interior designers like to add those random “art” pieces like sculptures, bowls, paintings, and other random decor around. but they like to keep the furniture minimal. the ambience is almost always natural sunlight during the day, and dark, dim, moody lighting during the evening.

iii. your social media

remain mysterious— posting several times a day, everyday is a bit much. unless you’re an influencer, limit posting to a few times a week, if that. “oh she posted again” doesn’t necessarily scream that you have a life.

keep your photos of similar quality with one another. using the same filter or preset keeps everything uniform if social media matters to you.

refrain from posting when you’re not at your best. refrain from posting you venting about something. be mindful of what you post. does it represent you as a person?

iv. your attitude (to others and yourself)

don’t be a rude person. don’t be bitter. don’t be resentful. don’t be negative. don’t gossip about others. don’t participate in the weird trend of self-deprecating “humor”. you should know you’re that girl, and you should move like her too. you should act in a way that you won’t accept nothing but the best, but still remain humble enough to know that it might take a bit of work on your part. raise your standards with men, raise your standards with friends, raise your standards with yourself. don’t compare your journey or yourself to others, even if they’re on a similar journey. be kind, be loving, and keep it moving on a positive note at all times

again, this was just a FUN post. if you wanna implement some of these ideas, perfect. if not, that’s fine too. love you lots xoxo

[unadulterateddeerpainter]

Mom arranged for us to go out for dinner for her birthday. I knew it was a double celebration, her birthday, and 150 days sober.

I hoped if we went to a nice restaurant she wouldn't be triggered. We could talk. We needed to talk.

She looked stunning. A simple strapless black dress, heels, and her Cornelia James opera gloves that I got her for her birthday.

She put her hair up, which is how I like her the best, and we got in a cab. She straightened my tie in the lobby and stroked my face tenderly.

"I'm sorry things didn’t work out with that girl. I know what you're going through. I haven't fucked a guy for nearly six months"

But today is your birthday, I thought.

"I don't want to fuck a guy - I want you" I said

She coloured slightly and tried not to smile.

"That really can't happen anymore-we agreed. My therapist said so"

We entered the restaurant, and I saw heads turn. I saw men staring and their dates glaring.

My mom is elegant. She moves elegantly. I wouldn't say she was classicly beautiful, but she's captivating. I know men find her intriguing, and that has gotten her into a lot of trouble in the past. She used to drink a lot, and that always meant guys, drugs and more guys.

Nearly six months free of her inner circle behaviours meant I had my Mom back.

I had actually started to believe that.

Until tonight. My phone buzzed. It was my ex, Shannon. My Mom waved a gloved hand, made a face

"Take it - it's OK"

I left the table to take the call - Shannon was a blubbering mess - new boyfriend had cheated on her, she wanted to vent.

By the time I got back to the table, Mom had polished off three Martinis

"What the fuck ?"

"It's my birthday"

She was already slurring slightly

"Anyway, you're not my fucking Dad"

I was so mad with her

"If I was your Dad I might get to fuck you once in a while"

Her face crumpled. Her hand went to her mouth. I immediately tried to apologise, but she was up, on her feet and hurrying on her heels to the ladies room.

That might have been the cruellest possible thing anyone could have said to her. And we hadn't even ordered.

I sat stewing, hoping she would come back so I could apologize. She was gone for ages.

I sent the waiter away three times before I went looking for her.

I found her in one of the restaurant's private rooms being fucked dogstyle by a latino waiter, her hair hanging in her face, titties swaying, dress pooled on the floor but those gloves still in place. I stood there unnoticed for a few beats, until the waiter started calling her a dirty bitch under his breath, then I said

"Don't talk to my fuckin Mom like that you piece of shit"

he panicked and ran, grabbing his pants as he went

Mom looked at me, and I swear, she said

"It's not what it looks like. He was COMFORTING me"

Happy Birthday, Mom. Don't go changing.

[rogerswifesblog-updates]

- chapter 2 -

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi! I couldn’t even though I wanted to post the second chapter in a few days but…yeah I’m not strong willed I guess😩🤣 please don’t forget to leave some feedback and reblog!! It makes a writer very happy! Besides, the more feedback/reblogs the faster the next chapter will be posted👀

Warnings: [ bdsm club (I’ve never been to one soit’s all fiction ok?), mentioned oral, mentioned mxm, mentioned p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral f receiving, squirting, humiliation kink, grinding, cum eating, pierced nipples, tattoos ], oral m receiving, cum swallowing

Pairing: [ Dom!reader x sub!jake Jensen who she spends her evening at the club with ] Steve Rogers x Reader

“So you have a crush on your tutor?”, Bucky asked once again, raising his eyebrows, putting the bar aside, so he could look back at Steve. They were once again at the gym, blowing off some steam, but Bucky quickly noticed Steve was thinking about something else, always zoning out. That’s how they started talking about you. Again. In the last two months Steve could stop talking about you, never confessing that he had a crush. But of course Bucky knew.

Steve sighed, looking down at the dumbbells in his hands. “She’s just so…I don’t know. Totally different from the people at school, so-“ “mature? Yeah I know buddy” Steve looked at his grinning best friend for a while, before nodding slowly. He felt embarrassed about how much he enjoyed the age difference between you two. The way he felt safe around you, for no specific reason. “Yeah, I like that about her. But she thinks it’s a problem. That I’m too young-but it’s only a month till I’m 18. This shouldn’t be a problem then, right?”, his voice was hopeful, as if Buckys opinion would change how you thought. At least it would make him feel better. “Just try to ask her out after your birthday. Maybe it’ll work”, said the brunette, shrugging. Wanting to finish his workout he grabbed the bar, but Steve leaned over him, still not being able to drop the topic. “Do YOU think she’s too old for me?”, asked Steve, somehow carrying a lot of panic in his voice. Bucky chuckled quietly, letting his head drop against the bench.

“You do remember I like older women myself”, he grinned, making Steve blush till the tips of his ears, before he mumbled to him. “Yeah, okay you’re right. I should just talk to her.”

You looked at one of the many pairs in the club, a woman with her sub, kneeling at her feet and kissing her thigh high boots. Normally you’d be on one of the stages, maybe even with Natasha, sharing a sub, but instead you were sitting in the comfortable booths. You mind slipped to a boy you’d love to have kneeling in front of you, but you couldn’t. “It’s just so annoying that he concentrates more on my lips than on the actual words I’m saying, you know? It’s always the same”, you vented in annoyance.

Natasha crossed her arms, looking at you in surprise, while you stared at your drink, not wanting to see the judgment in her eyes. “So you’re saying he’s…kinda cute?”

Now you had to look up at her, even though your eyes fell onto her naked breasts first since he wore just a harness. “I said he’s the kid I’m helping with his math homework that tries to flirt with me all the time and doesn’t listen” “You didn’t deny”, she shrugged. You sighed, shaking your head at that. But she was right. You felt awful for finding a teenager this cute, this attractive. Especially with his pouty lips and sparkling eyes whenever you praised him. “He’s 17, Nat. I can’t have a boyfriend this much younger. Not even after his birthday, just because he’d be 18 doesn’t mean he…we could date. I mean, look at me-“ “yeah, you’re hot. I totally got why he wants you”, she smirked, sipping her martini, her eyes lingering on your mesh top where your breasts and pierced nipples were exposed, you could even see a few tattoos. Rolling your eyes you let out a loud sigh, but there was still a small smile on your lips. “It’s just-I’m pretty sure he’s…inexperienced. I don’t think his first girlfriend should be a regular in…here. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t survive me ”, you mentioned with your hand to the club and people around you.

Natasha laughed quietly. “Isn't that even better? At least his first time would definitely be good and enjoyable. You’re a good dom, you’d take care of his needs”, Natasha was right, but it still didn’t make you feel better. “He’s really nice, Nat….”, you mumbled, your eyes scanning the room for something interesting to look at, stopping at a gagged man being fucked by his boyfriend roughly, pulling at his hair or hitting his jiggling ass harshly. You knew these guys, you could even call them your friends so often you’ve seen and talked to them. Recently they asked you to join them, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. So you said no. But watching all these people made you crave sex. Or any kind of intimacy at this point.

“You like this Steve a lot huh?”, without needing to think about it you nodded. She looked at you from the side for a moment, putting her hand on your thigh, squeezing. “Just try to think positive. Maybe you could show him everything. Slowly…besides, wouldn’t it be amazing to have an inexperienced guy? You can make him your perfect boy toy. Perfect to please you. That’s everyone’s wish”, her words made you smile slightly. Steve would be a perfect boy toy. A sweet play thing just for you-well, or whoever he’d liked to be shared with in case he’d want to go to this club with you. You closed your eyes for a moment, imagining him on his knees. Begging.

Sighing you opened your eyes downing your martini. “I’ll be back soon, I’ll go find Jake, he said he’d be here today”, you said standing up. “Maybe an orgasm will make you less miserable”, Natasha laughed watching as you walked away.

You found Jake sitting with someone you didn’t know but looking at his expression he wasn’t enjoying it. So you asked him to come with you. And he gladly did, immediately taking your hand. “I’m so happy you decided to come, mommy”, he grinned cheekily at you. “I can tell you hoped for me to be here. You look pretty, babyboy. Always so dressed up for mommy, wearing a collar and pretty nipple clamps. You’re probably already hard in those leather pants, huh?”, he started nodding, while you went with him to a free space, sitting down in a chair. Jake already knew to drop to his knees, watching as you pushed your latex skirt up, revealing your naked, glistening pussy to him. The tattoo he already knew by heart looking back at him from your pelvic. Bon appetite. Oh he’d definitely enjoy the meal.

“Baby, look at me”, he quickly brought his gaze up. “If I do something you don’t like, red, okay? Just the same light system we always use”, you said, spreading your legs even further. Jake nodded, making you raise your eyebrows. “Green, mommy, so green”, he mumbled, sliding closer.

You grabbed the light chain that connected his claps together and pulled gently a few times, making him whine. “Then open your pants for mommy and take that big dick in hand-yeah just like that…now come closer, you’ll eat mommy out and hump her boot, huh? Show everyone what a desperate little slut you are. My little bitch, coming by humping mommy like a dog”, with that you pushed his head to your core and he latched onto your clit, eating you out like a man starving. Meanwhile he humped your leg, definitely feeling embarrassed about how much pre cum he was leaking but you knew about his humiliation kink. And he loved showing off how desperate he was for you. And how good you made him feel.

His skilled mouth brought you quickly to your high, making you squirt onto his chin and chest. This made him shoot his cum onto your boot, grinding himself even faster and harder against you, while still lapping at your slick overstimulated pussy.

You grinned at the people watching you two, bringing one of your legs up, to show more. Some of them were touching themselves through their pants, watching your cunt, while others couldn’t take their eyes off Jake who was still painting the leather of your boots.

“Babyboy I think you should clean the mess you made”, you smirked, pressing your sole against his chest. His cheeks were dark red from embarrassment as he noticed the others around you, but he leaned down nevertheless, licking off his cum from your boot. You noticed how despite his whining and blushing his cock jumped when he lapped at your boot, cleaning all of his cum off.

Watching him you thought about someone else.

Nope, Steve Rogers definitely wouldn’t survive you.

Your next session was the day after, so you went to the club earlier than usual, while Nat stayed for probably a few hours more.

Walking into his room Steve was already sitting at the table, smiling brightly at you. He had such a pretty and sweet smile. His cheeks were covered in a rosy color, making your heart ache. You could tell he was a whole body blusher and you were really curious how this blush looked underneath his clothes.

Fuck, get a grip on yourself.

“Have you done the homework?”, you asked with a friendly smile. He immediately pulled out the notebook he used during your sessions and showed you everything. The smile on your lips stayed, even though he definitely had a few mistakes in his calculations. Always the same mistakes.

From the beginning on he was always making the same mistakes.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips, while you sat down. “You’re already so much better, sweetheart, but it’s still always the same”, you said, not even noticing the pet name slipping from your lips. But Steve did notice it. And boy did he like it. Within seconds he was hard and throbbing in his jeans, trying to pull them away from his tight crotch. Watching your lips move, while you explained…something to him.

You snapped your fingers right before his face. " Earth to Steve? Did you understand the equation?Are you even listening?” According to the stuttering that was coming from him, you assumed it was a big fat no. He was indeed not listening. But still looking at your lips.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”, his question made you raise your eyebrows in surprise, but shook your head slightly. “Not that it’s any of your business, Steve. I’m here to teach you about math and not about my sexual experiences.” His breath hitched at your words, face turning a darker shade of red than ever. “So you had sex?”, you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped your lips, because, well-you definitely had sex. Very, very kinky sex even.

Looking at him for a moment the corners of your mouth twitched. “Yes, Steve, I had sex and that’s nothing I should be discussing with you, so let’s-” “I never had sex.” His confession didn’t surprise you, because you already suspected it, but you really didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about popping his cherry. Especially since you’d actually love to do that.

After yesterdays talk with Natasha you couldn’t stop thinking about him, not even for a second.

And here he was asking you about sex, telling you he was a virgin.

Grabbing another book you opened it on the needed page and looked back at him. He was squirming in his seat, definitely not listening to anything you were trying to tell him about math. From the tent in his pants you could tell what he was thinking about, making you only shake your head slightly. “Steve, please listen to me. To solve the-“ He leaned a bit closer, but not to listen to you. “And have you ever sucked a di-“ “Steve, it’s inappropriate to ask such questions. Stop it.” You shook your head in annoyance. “Okay I’m sorry, but I’m just curious. Have you?”, he nearly whined. If you weren’t this annoyed you might have found it amusing. But you didn’t. “Yes I have Steven, now stop asking or the lesson will end now. You need to concentrate, your exams are really soon.”

Once again you tried to get his attention back to the tasks, but he seemed interested in just your lips and not the actual words coming out of them. Either way you tried to help him at least a bit by writing down a few easier examples.

But even these he couldn’t solve, always looking back at your lips, irritating you more than you thought possible. You felt how your hands started slightly shaking. God, this boy was unbelievable.

“What’s wrong with you today, Steve? Why are you so distracted?” Hearing your annoyed and slight accusing sound, his shoulder slumped, making him look like a kicked puppy. “Well, I-You said-well, I wanted to ask about how-I mean blowjo-“ “God, if you get a stupid blowjob, would you finally start paying attention to math and not whatever thoughts you have??” A quiet laugh escaped him, making him grin fully. “I’m pretty sure for a blowjob I’d do everything, so yeah-“

With that you pushed his chair aside, so he sat sideways to the table. “What-?“, before he could finish his question, you dropped to your knees, pushing his legs apart. With big eyes he was looking down at you, not knowing what to do with his hands or even how to react. He felt his thigh start trembling and you haven’t even touched him yet. “What are you doing?”, he whispered, slowly reaching out to stroke your hair, but you grabbed his hands, pushing them behind his back. “I’ll give you your damn blowjob so you stop asking about it”, you hissed, opening his pants, pulling them down. He even lifted his hips to help you. Atta boy. Learning so quickly, without needing you to say anything. For a moment you had to hold back a smirk.

There was already a wet spot on his boxershorts, where his tip was leaking, filling his briefs with pre-cum. You leaned down to his crotch, licking over the exact spot, sucking at the head for a second. Steve whined quietly, his hand gripping onto your hair. “Keep your hands be-“, looking up at him you could see he was already a mess. Right. Virgin. You shouldn’t be so harsh with him. “Never mind, sweetheart. If I do something you don’t like and want me to stop say red, understood?”, you said rubbing with your hands over his trembling thighs.

Steve pulled his eyebrows together in confusion, but nodded. “Okay, But why red? Do you like the color or-“ it was definitely not the time to answer the question so you pulled down his boxershorts revealing his hard cock. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, starting to pump him, while your lips touched his tip, spreading around the pre-cum. The sound he made was poetic. A beautiful and soft whine, while his fingers buried themself in your hair, slightly painful, but you didn’t mind. You liked a bit of pain.

Slurping at his tip you looked up at him, making eye contact. Doing so you felt more pre-cum wetting your lips. Cute. He was getting so excited just by looking at him with his dick against your mouth. For a moment you just toyed with his tip, still stroking his whole length.

Steve pushed your head down, urging you to take him finally in your mouth. For this behavior you’d love to edge him, but then you remembered once again he wasn’t your sub or your boyfriend. You’re just…helping him to end his curiosity. “Your mouth feels so good-fuck”, he moaned, moving his hips against you, fucking your mouth with irregular thrusts, sloppy. Somehow you enjoyed it.

His first blowjobs. First time fucking someone’s face. Your face.

You started moving your head faster, showing off your skills, by swallowing him down, till he was fully nestled inside your throat. Even though his dick still made you gag a few times. This boy was really blessed, you couldn’t deny it and he probably knew it too. “Fuck I- I think I’m close”, he whispered. If your mouth wasn’t full of dick you’d have chuckled. Only a few minutes and he was already on the edge. With one of your hands you started fondling his balls, squeezing them a bit harder than necessary. His leg jumped, hitting the desk beside you, but he seemed to enjoy it, as the sound leaving his throat was better than any you had heard from him. “Fuck I-I I’m coming-fuck please”, he whispered pushing your head down, while his cum painted your throat, filling your mouth with him taste. After letting go of your hair you let him slide out of your mouth, licking his length, while he enjoyed the aftershocks. Then you tucked him once again away into his boxers.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, before sitting back into your chair and putting the examples you wrote down before him. “So, to solve the…”

The face he made was priceless. But at least he solved everything you gave him.

Chapter 3

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