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sumicchin · 3 months

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CHIMES OF THE HEART

❃ a windbreaker (satori nii) reader insert.

CHAPTER 1

Rumor has it that a violent ghost has been plaguing the streets of Makochi. (2.6k words)

content warnings: female reader, mentions of prostitution, let's pretend nothing bad happens after roppo ichiza arc, original characters, swearing, it gets wholesome i swear

"Are you ready to go now, dear?" I feel my caretaker's hands touch my shoulders, light and caring. In front of me was my reflection in the mirror, clad in a white kimono and flower pieces adorning my hair. In the 16 years I've lived, this is the first time I saw myself all dressed up.

It's unfortunate that it had to be for an undesirable occasion.

I let out a small hum, face somber. Hayami, my caretaker since being born into this world, snakes her arms around me while I remain quiet. "If you're worried about us, then there's no need to. We have everything under control," I hear her mutter on my ear. She grasps my shoulders, giving me an earnest smile, "I trust that, you look out for your own."

"You deserve to live an earnest and free life, child."

Footsteps soon pollute the room as men clad in black arrive to escort me. I was to wait in a room alone, soon to meet my 'husband'.

"I wish you all the best. Farewell, my dear."

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

My head hung low as I followed them to the banquet hall as was discussed to us a few days ago.

"He'll arrive in a few minutes, stay put."

Unbeknownst to them, we had no plans of actually going through the ceremony.

As soon as the footsteps disappeared, I immediately dashed towards the back exit of the room. Having lived in this shrine for all my life made me aware of the secret passages around, and I wouldn't dare want to know why those were around.

The passage leads to the nearby river where a boat near the docks was placed by Hayami. I rushed towards it, not looking back.

I paddled fast, my mind in a haze, thinking of what could have become of everyone after knowing I escaped.

I can't let their sacrifice go to waste...

Hours passed, my arms tired from paddling nonstop as I couldn't waste a single moment. I just know that they're hot on my trail, I couldn't risk stopping.

Clouds started forming, and soon waves started accumulating. Just my luck.

We didn't anticipate a huge storm today. All I could do is hold my breath as I see a huge wave coming towards my boat.

Images of Hayami's smile before I was escorted flooded my mind.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

It was a rainy day in the neighborhood, but that didn't stop the boys of Bofurin to patrol the town.

The representative first years, except Sugishita who decided to help Umemiya with his saplings, all brought their umbrellas as they walk around town while talking about the most mundane things.

"Who in the hell would even go out in this weather," Sakura groans. As much as he wanted to do something exciting (street brawl, for example), the weather warrants a day for rest.

"We just need to do one more round and we can call it a day," Nirei says with a huff. "I really wanted to take notes about the stuff you guys said earlier, but I don't want to risk getting my notebook wet."

"That would cause great trouble for you, Nirei," Suo agrees. He himself has been quiet the whole trip, too absorbed in the rain's ambience. The five of them have been walking around town for a good hour now, with nothing out of the sort. The most exciting part of the endeavor was probably Kiryu almost breaking Tsugeura's neck after the tall lad sneezed in front of him, Suo thinks.

"If we aren't gonna do something fun, then let's at least talk about something interesting while we finish up!" Tsugeura exclaims. Kiryu on his phone doesn't bother to look up at said buff male, "At least talk about something other than your protein shakes and virtues."

"I agree with Kiryu," Suo says with a hint of distaste.

Tsugeoka laughs, "I'll save those for another day! Right now, I'm feeling pumped to hear scary stories! Doesn't the rainy weather feel gloomy and stuff? Perfect vibe!"

"But didn't you say you're scared shitless of ghosts? You're just gonna make yourself piss," Sakura scoffs.

Tsugeura moves past his group and blocks their path with a determined face, "You guys gotta hear me out for this one!!! My friends from the other street have been talking about this 'White Lady' recently, and apparently, they spotted it just earlier!" He shudders visibly.

Kiryu looks at him disinterested, "Wasn't there a similar incident at the rooftop? It was only a black cloth all along."

"You should stop scaring yourself, Tsugeura. It's bad for the heart," Suo laughs, however, the boy next to him is visibly bothered by the story.

"So it is real...!" Nirei, with bloodshot eyes, starts shaking uncontrollably.

"What's real? And why are you shaking?!" Sakura exclaims. The blonde looks at his peers, face pale as he recalls the rumors, "It's said that the ghost had long hair and was wearing a white kimono. Get close to it and it'll attack, they say!"

A manly scream erupts out of Tsugeura.

"And since it's a ghost, you can't fight back!!! Four men apparently were injured ever since the sightings started!"

Another scream erupts from Tsugeura.

Suo's eyes lit up upon hearing the four men mention, "Oh, you meant the wanted traffickers in the red light district? The Roppo Ichiza would be glad to hear about that."

"At least the women can be at ease now. This ghost might be of help to us," Kiryu adds.

The other three boys in the group all just stared at each other for a moment, but Sakura's interest was piqued as soon as he heard 'fight'. The ghost must be tough to beat up four grown men!

Suo hums with concern, "How did the men come across the ghost anyway?"

"Apparently, if you hear the clanks of wooden sandals—"

Clank. Clank.

"Exactly like that one, it's a telltale sign that the ghost is nearby."

Nirei's train of thoughts stop as he looks towards where his group is gazing at.

Long hair with a white kimono.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Nirei and Tsugeura cry as they hug each other.

"Well, if it isn't the star of the show," Suo says, eyes wide at what he's seeing.

Sakura and Kiryu look at the figure with curiosity, seemingly wanting to approach it.

"Can we be sure that this isn't a real person," Kiryu trails, "That looks awfully...real."

Sakura steps forward, "Only one way to find out."

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

Apparently, I survived that storm.

The weather remains gloomy like before, and I assume it's around midnight.

My body feels heavy, my mind is fuzzy, but I had to ignore these and get moving.

I walked until I saw signs of civilization. I was never allowed to go outside of the shrine other than the market, so all I could rely on right now was my intuition and fists.

All the shops were closed, but the street lamps were all lit—they looked beautiful. If I weren't running for my life, I would've basked in this moment for a bit longer.

I needed to get some sustenance and shelter soon, my body has been giving me signs of malfunction.

I walked around a corner and was greeted by four armed men, all huddled together smoking cigarettes.

"That new catch you got is pretty experienced. Exactly the boss' type," I hear one of them say with the rest of the men laughing, saying more vulgar and inappropriate acts.

The mainland has it worse than I thought.

The group of men drop their cigarettes upon looking at the glowing machine in their hands. Apparently, it's past midnight by 10 minutes. Hayami would get angry at me if she knew I stayed up this late.

"Break's over. Let's head back to the bar," a hooded figure says and soon the three other men follow. They walk in my direction and noticed my presence, immediately turning their attention towards me.

"Oh, you there, pretty lady. You tryna catch some guys around this time of the night?"

They laugh.

I just kept walking, ignoring their catcalling. As soon as our paths cross, one of the men grabs my arm and flings me towards them.

His other hand grabs my chin and lifts my face, almost as if inspecting it. A pleased hum erupts from his nicotine reeking face.

"You could make for a fine prostitute."

With all my remaining energy, I send a kick to his abdomen, the man falling to the ground as he clutched his stomach.

"What the—hey! Get this bitch tied up!" All three men charge at me, but they all crumble like a tower of cards.

Four piles of unconscious bodies around me.

"G-ghost!!!"

I heard a woman scream as she runs away, dropping the bag she's carrying from panic.

The people back at the shrine would shun me for stealing, but I'm too starved to think straight. Rummaging through the bag, I come across some leftovers. I nabbed the food and went back to the unconscious bodies, searching for anything useful.

A few coins that can hopefully buy bread or water.

My kimono feels too heavy from all the moisture, but I'd rather endure it than wear clothing that smells like smoke and alcohol.

I ran away as soon as I looted whatever's useful, searching for a place to hide and rest.

Hopefully, tomorrow treats me better.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

"Don't do it, Sakura!" Nirei frets, finger pointing at the white figure. "Who knows what that ghost will do to you!"

"I'm not buying the ghost crap, if I get a hold of that thing, then it ain't a ghost!" Sakura exclaims as he approached the finger, dropping his umbrella in the progress.

"Ah Sakura, didn't you just recover from a cold?" Suo says as he picks up the boy's forgotten umbrella.

"I won't be able to fight with one hand."

'That's cringe,' Kiryu grimaces.

Tsugeura, trembling profusely, can only bid his captain all the luck in the world. "I can't watch this!!!"

"So, you're the ghost everyone's been talking about."

He doesn't get a response.

"Those four men aren't part of our territory, but I can't let you running around our town free," Sakura clenches his fist and runs towards the figure. He strikes a fast punch, only for the figure to step aside and appear behind him. He goes for a kick, but the ghost avoided him once more. This goes on for a while, Sakura barraging the ghost with powerful punches and swift kicks, only for naught.

"Why aren't you fighting back?!"

"Maybe it's because it is a ghost!" Suo replies playfully.

Tsugeura, pale as paper, could only look through his fingers, "Tell me when it's all over!"

"Suo, Kiryu, don't you guys think you could help out Sakura? This is getting nowhere!" Nirei says.

"I want to but, I don't really want to get my clothes wet," Kiryu nonchalantly says, "Plus it's fun to watch from here."

"Same here." Suo chirps.

"Why are you guys so chill about this?! There's some paranormal activity going around and you guys are just treating this like it's some circus act—"

A loud thunk was heard, the boys turned their heads over to Sakura who was now on the floor. While the boys were engaging in playful banter, Sakura was suddenly hit by a powerful kick to the back of his head. The force of it almost resembles Togame's punch, he thinks.

The rest of the boys come to his aid, with Nirei acting as his clutch as he catches his breath.

Sakura heaves, "That's no ghost, it's human just like us."

"Fuck, I thought I could handle it myself, but I'll be needing your guy's help. The only objective right now is to capture that thing so it doesn't cause trouble for the town." He's not exactly sure if he's supposed to make a villain out of the mysterious person, but it's better safe than sorry. Before his face got plummeted to the ground, he swore to himself that he was able to clutch the figure's right ankle, cold to the touch.

Everyone nods in agreement, understanding the assignment. By this point, their umbrellas all dance on the floor as they prepare to catch their target.

"I'll overcome my fear for the townspeople's sake!" Tsugeura roars, taking his stance.

He charges towards the figure and tries to go in for a grab, but he ends up catching air.

Suo and Kiryu now taking the whole situation seriously follow suit and try to get near the figure with haste. Kiryu tries to corner the figure, but it starts to use the wall as leverage and makes a run to escape. Suo notices this and was able to predict the person's landing, only for his shoulder to be stepped on.

Their target soon makes its escape, not even allowing the boys to regain their composure.

Nirei, who was watching by the sidelines, was able to discern which direction the figure went and relayed this information to his Bofurin peers. They decided to assimilate it in their group chat as well to make the task easier.

Highschoolers hunting for a 'ghost' in the middle of a downpour made headlines that day.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

The students of Bofurin all get word of the hunt. Needless to say, everyone was joining for the hell of it.

"So you're telling me, this ghost is not actually a ghost?" Umemiya says, slightly disappointed. His hope of meeting the occult, shattered. Everyone sweats a drop at their leader's statement, except Sugishita who reflected the same feeling of disappointment. Students who were available that day all gathered at Furin's rooftop, to which the crops and seedlings all glistened at having been watered by mother nature. All grade captains and the four kings were present, indicating the severity of the situation.

Or that they didn't really have anything going on for the day.

"Anything else we need to know about the target?" Hiragi asks the first year boys, to which Nirei perks up.

"U-uhm, I was watching the whole time so I think I got a good look at them. Other than the long hair and tattered white kimono, height-wise I think they're about my size," he nervously says, flipping pages of his notebook. "Sakura also said that the skin was cold as ice due to being exposed to the rain for days. I don't think the target could've gone far after our encounter with it since they might've been suffering from hypothermia by now!"

'So he was jotting down details the entire time...how diligent,' Suo thought to himself, acting like a proud father.

Everyone takes in the information and is about to head downstairs until Kiryuu's voice reaches everyone, halting their steps. "I don't want to get ahead of myself, but are we sure the target isn't a girl or something? I mean, I know a girl when I see one. Don't you agree, Suo?"

Leonardo DiCaprio nodded his head with a smile, "I thought so as well, but I was afraid Sakura would hold back once he heard about it."

Cueu steam coming out of said boy's ears.

"If that's the case, then let's proceed with caution everyone! Don't act like savages if you come across the girl," Tsubaki suggests with Umeyama agreeing. "Make sure to keep communication open once she's on sight so that everyone can close down the area."

Needless to say, Tsubaki was worried ever since Kiryuu and Suo suggested that they were to capture a girl.

"Are y'all done with the chitchat? If we don't move our asses then we can kiss goodbye to the whole thing," Kaji interrupts, already looking impatient and raring to go.

"Welp, you heard the man. Bofurin, roll out!"

winbre brainrot real ;-;

#windbreaker x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker

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shiny-crocodile · 3 months

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the best person ive ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

masterlist ch1-10

CHAPTER 11

chapter summary: birthdays and brawls

chapter notes: big huge thanks to anons for the brawl suggestion and smut suggestion and to @pinkygirl28 for the catalan support

also, obviously this is all made up!! so don’t come for me if i’ve made your fave a villain x

smut 18+

Ona - what do you think?

She had attached a photo of her outfit for the evening. It was a joint party for her leaving Manchester and her birthday, so she wanted to look good and was currently leaning towards a black dress that cut low at the front and back.

Lucy - insane 😮‍💨 as always

Ona - bit of a pants line though, might have to take those off

Lucy - 🫠

The girlfriends were temporarily separated as Ona did her goodbye tour. Her actual birthday was a few days later, which she would be back in Barcelona with Lucy for.

Feeling confident about her outfit, the Spaniard moved on to the make up before making her way out for the evening.

"Ona!!" Tooney shouted as she and Alessia ran over to great the Spaniard as she entered the reserved upstairs of a fancy Manchester pub.

"My girls," Ona said, wrapped in a 3 person hug.

"Can't believe you're both leaving me," Tooney said as they parted.

"I'll still be here!" Millie said, appearing from behind them, "hey Ona!"

She leant down to give the shorter girl a hug.

"Happy Birthday," Millie said, "we got you something."

"Well Millie got you something," Tooney corrected, Ona grinning with excitement, she loved presents and couldn't wait to receive the first of her 24th birthday.

"It's from all of us," Millie said, embarrassed as she pulled a small box out of her bag, wrapped in paper.

Ona quickly unwrapped it, discarding the wrapping to reveal a red box. She didn't slow down to open that either, revealing a beautiful gold chain with a little red devil on it, for Man U.

"I love it!" she said, giving all the girls a hug but Millie an extra tight squeeze as she knew she had organised and bought it.

The extra attention not going unnoticed by Millie, who breathed in the Spaniard's hair while they hugged.

"Want me to put it on?" Millie asked, excited at the reaction.

Ona hesitated, she did love the necklace and the thought behind it, but it didn't really go with her outfit.

To avoid being rude she agreed anyway, Millie slowly lifting her hair and fastening the necklace before running her fingers across Ona's shoulders in a way that made the younger girl shiver in a less than comfortable way.

Sensing the awkwardness, Tooney stepped in, "let's go get a drink," she said, leading Ona by the hand as they went to get their hands on some of the celebratory prosecco.

After everyone had finished arriving and mingled for a while, all the friends and teammates showering the Spaniard with attention, it was time for the cake.

Tooney and Less had been put in charge of organising this part, making Millie more than a bit nervous that it would be a disaster.

The lights were turned down, people starting to sing as the cake was brought in, Ona blushing at all the attention.

It was pretty dark but the candles provided some light, showing the room who was carrying the cake.

"Oh my god, Lucy!" Ona said, drowned out by the singing as she turned to look at Millie, Tooney and Less.

Tooney and Less had shit eating grins, proud of themselves for keeping a secret, whereas Millie looked like she'd just been slapped in the face.

Ona made her way over to Lucy, blowing out the candles as the singing ended.

The English girl quickly put down the cake on a table with Ona ready to jump into her arms, wrapping her legs around the older girl's waist.

"I can't believe you're here!" Ona said, covering her girlfriend's face with red lipstick from her kisses, while the rest of the room went back to their conversations.

"All Tooney and Less's idea really," Lucy said, not wanting to take any credit.

Ona climbed off Lucy and dragged her over to her friends.

"Like your present?" Less asked.

"We couldn't have you mopping around, missing your girlfriend at your own party," Tooney teased.

"Thank you so much guys," Ona said, hugging Tooney and Less before Lucy even had a chance to. "This is the best present ever."

Millie grimaced at that, the necklace she bought sitting round Ona's neck as she praised someone else's present as better.

"Hey Millie," Lucy said, making sure she was extra friendly as she hugged Millie. They hadn't spoken since Millie apologised but it was all water under the bridge for Lucy, not wanting to hold a grudge, especially with Ona's friends.

"So good to see you," Millie said, actually managing to sound genuine.

"You too," Lucy said, turning back to her girlfriend, "sweet necklace!"

"Millie got it for me," Ona said proudly, playing with it.

"That's so nice of you," Lucy said, wrapping her arm around Ona's waist, the younger girl's head resting on her shoulder.

"Ona keeps saying how much she's going to miss you guys," Lucy said, addressing the group, "you should definitely come visit Barcelona."

As Alessia and Tooney got excited at the prospect, Ona looked up at her girlfriend, admiring how sweet she was being and how happy she was to have her here, too infatuated to even notice Millie turning away and leaving the group.

"I love you," mouthed Ona, as Lucy squeezed her waist, holding them even closer to each other.

As the night went on, Lucy was conscious to not be too all over Ona, catching up with people and letting the Spaniard enjoy her last night in Manchester with her friends and teammates.

"Lucy!" the English girl heard from behind her.

"Katie! Hey," Lucy said, giving her England teammate a hug.

"You gonna spend the whole night just staring at your girlfriend or you gonna come dance with us," Katie asked, pointing over to a group consisting of Nikita Parris, Mary Earps and some other Man U girls she didn't know as well.

Not knowing how obvious she was being, the right back laughed and agreed to be dragged over to dance.

As Lucy danced the night away, Ona was in another circle with an increasingly tipsy Millie, who was getting closer and handsier the more she drank.

Lucy noticed from time to time but the smile on Ona's face told her she was all good.

Until Millie had one hand on the Spaniard's waist and one on her face, leaning in before Ona shoved her away, the smile dropping.

The England right back instantly flew across the room to be by her side, slotting herself between the Spaniard and Millie.

"What's going on?" Lucy said, having seen everything and watched the discomfort on her girlfriend's face.

"Nothing, I'm going to the toilet," Millie said, spinning on her heels.

"You good?" Lucy asked turning to her girlfriend, stroking her cheek softly.

"Yeah I'm fine," Ona said, smiling up at Lucy as she was keen to move past it and enjoy the rest of her evening.

Lucy left a kiss on her temple, "ok, can I get you a drink?"

"Rum and coke please," Ona said, rejoining her teammates to dance.

On her way to the bar, Lucy spotted Millie walking back towards the group.

"Hey, give her a bit of space yeah, let her enjoy her night," Lucy advised, prompting Millie to huff and walk off in the other direction, not the same friendliness she greeted Lucy with earlier.

The queue for the bar was massive, Lucy finding time to keep peering back over to her girlfriend.

After only about 2 minutes of keeping her distance, Millie had ignored Lucy's advice and rejoined Ona's group after all.

Lucy could see the discomfort on Ona's face but was grateful Less and Tooney could read the situation well enough to position themselves between the two, creating a mini barrier.

As Lucy edged further towards the front of the queue she saw Millie was now next to Ona, finding every opportunity to touch her, the Spaniard looking to push her off.

Lucy could see her saying "go away" but the blonde was being relentless.

"What can I get for you?" the barman asked, "hello?"

Millie had wrapped herself around a pissed off Ona now, Lucy ditching the bar and marching over to the pair.

"Get the fuck off her," Lucy said, pulling Millie back by her shoulder, before giving her a shove backwards.

Millie somehow caught her balance and squared up to Lucy, leaning over the right back thanks to her superior height, her alcohol breath forcing Lucy to lean back.

"Fuck off Lucy," Millie spat.

"She's said leave her alone, so leave her the fuck alone," Lucy said, filled with anger and not budging as Millie tried and failed to intimidate her.

The room was starting to take notice of what was going on here.

"You're no good for her," Millie slurred.

"Ok Millie," Lucy said, turning back around to join her girlfriend, not wanting to escalate this any further.

Feeling patronised by Lucy only made Millie more pissed off.

"You will never be good enough for her, you're ugly inside and out."

Lucy could feel Ona about to pipe up next to her, so gave her a reassuring shake of the head to halt her.

The older girl could take the insults, she was secure enough. If anything she found them funny.

As long as they were only directed at her, she couldn't care less what this drunk girl had to say.

"You destroyed her at the beginning, she slept with most of Manchester to try get over you, but somehow the little slut went crawling back, didn't you?"

That was it, Lucy moved from Ona's side to grab Millie's shirt in her fists, pushing her backwards while staying attached, faces close.

"Don't fucking talk about her like that," Lucy growled, everyone gathering around them now, shocked as they had never seen the right back like this.

Ona was watching on, furious enough at Millie that she wasn't going to stop angry Lucy even if she was causing a scene, and hey, she looked hot.

Millie, the alcohol seemingly making her immune to Lucy's threats, leaned forward with so much vim and disgust in her voice as she said, "well she is a fucking slut."

Lucy saw red, she took her hands off Millie's shirt and before you knew it the taller girl was no longer taller and was on the floor, clutching her quickly bruising face that had just been punched.

A security guard picked up Millie to drag her out, with another heading towards Lucy.

"That wasn't her fault," Mary said, stepping infront of the guard. "Please."

Luckily Mary was well enough loved in these parts that the security guard just nodded and walked away.

Ona sped in front of Lucy, who was looking down at her bruised hand.

"Let's get some ice," the younger girl said, pulling her over to the side of the bar before finding a quiet booth to ice her girlfriend's hand.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said, finally realising what she had just done and feeling scared she might have been the one to ruin Ona's night rather than Millie.

"Don't be ridiculous, you were protecting me," Ona said, bringing Lucy's injured hand up to her lips, kissing her knuckles slowly, "and that was crazy fucking hot."

Lucy laughed, her hand feeling sore under Ona's lips.

"Half of Manchester, hey?" Lucy teased.

"If a whole two people counts as half," Ona said, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of Millie's insult, "but I'm sorry for not telling you."

"You didn't have to tell me, don't worry," Lucy said, using her non injured hand to rub up and down Ona's arm reassuringly. "I didn't expect you to be pining for me and living like a nun while I was sorting myself out."

Ona kissed her caring and understanding girlfriend's lips, "oh I was absolutely pining."

"Sarina's going to kill me," Lucy said, reassured that Ona wasn't mad at her but now worrying about her boss.

"Well you probably weren't getting picked for the World Cup anyway," the Spaniard teased, checking under the ice at Lucy's red raw hand.

Not able to shake the feeling that she put a dampener on the party, Lucy vowed to make it her mission to ensure the night was still a good one for Ona.

"Shall we go back and dance?" Lucy said, nodding over to the group of Man U players, who were all there to celebrate Ona.

"One more minute," the younger girl said, kissing Lucy deeper this time, more passionately, wanting to make sure the girl knew how grateful she was.

As Lucy's hand rode up the side of Ona's thigh, she felt the band of her knickers.

"Ugh, what are these doing here?" Lucy said, expecting Ona to be going commando after their earlier messages.

Ona laughed, "sorry baby," sliding out of the booth and holding a hand out for Lucy to join her.

As they reached the rest of the group, Tooney couldn't help but have a little tease.

"Alright Antony Joshua," the English midfielder said, dramatically cowering at the sight of Lucy,

"who you coming for next? Or maybe we should ask Ona who she wants you to beat up for her next?"

She was met with laughs and huge eye rolls, "you," Ona responded.

Less gave Tooney a light shove.

"Shut up Tooney, I wish someone would protect me like that," Less said, Ona hugging up to Lucy's side.

"You've got me," Tooney said, boxing the air, "I'd protect you."

"Not really the same level of scary is it?" Alessia said, drawing laughs out of the whole group.

Tooney faked outrage as they started dancing again.

Lucy was glued to Ona's side now, dancing with each other and moving as a unit between different friend groups.

They made their way to venue 2, the club, and the only time they parted was for bar and toilet trips.

The dancing got sexier, the music in the club hotter than the classics in the pub, and everyone significantly more drunk.

Ona had to excuse herself to go the bathroom, needing a breather as Lucy's dancing was working her into a frenzy.

On her return she paused for a second to watch her girlfriend clapping along sweetly to a number of her teammates engaging in a dance off, currently Lucia Garcia vs Katie Zelem.

How Lucy managed to go from the hottest, angriest girl in the world to the sweetest, most precious girl in the world in a matter of hours was a mystery to Ona.

She rejoined her and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I love you," she whispered, pushing something down into Lucy's back pocket.

The older girl stopped clapping and fished a pair of damp black lace knickers out of her pocket, quickly stuffing them back in before anyone saw.

"My god, I'm so fucking obsessed with you," the older girl said into Ona's ear, accompanied by a bum squeeze. She leant her head back to stare at the ceiling, now needing her own breather.

Lucy tried her best to hold herself together, her priority being that Ona got to have the send off she deserved with her teammates.

But that lasted all of 5 minutes, sliding her hand down from Ona's back to her bum, squeezing for longer this time, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to them.

They weren't, all too involved in their dance battles and completely ignoring the front of Ona's dress being slowly pulled up as Lucy brushed her fingers up her inner thigh.

This was exactly what Ona wanted when she slipped off her knickers, to see Lucy this worked up. Although she wasn't expecting it in the middle of the club floor.

Lucy had complete access to Ona and knew they'd worked each other up enough already, feeling the heat radiate down the Spaniard's inner thigh.

She wanted her right there and then, but she would be slow to let the younger girl push her off i she wanted to.

There was no rejection so Lucy ran her fingers through Ona's exposed lips, making the Spaniard's breathing hitch as her posture straightened.

No one around had any idea that Lucy was now teasing at Ona's entrance, well covered by the dress, darkness and them not slowing down their dancing. The nearby friends would definitely let them know if they could see what was going on.

The English girl breached with one finger to start with, the younger girls slickness making access easy as Lucy curved to hit Ona in just the right spot.

The second finger quickly followed, pulsing light enough to ease Ona into it but firm enough to make the girl desperate for more.

As Lucy started to use her thumb to tease around the younger girl's clit, Ona had to push her mouth into Lucy's shoulder to stop the moan escaping.

Lucy sped up her pumping, the fear of getting caught pushing her on as the Spaniard started to leave teeth marks in her shoulder.

"Come for me bonita," Lucy whispered into Ona's ear before lifting the girl's chin up with her hand, replacing her shoulder with her mouth and pushing her tongue in to capture the moans.

To onlookers this would just look like a steamy make out session, Lucy perfecting the art of secret fucking.

Ona was struggling to hold it in any longer, walls clenching around the fingers inside her and mouth unable to muster the strength to suck Lucy's tongue any longer, the older girl more than willing to take over.

The Spaniard moaned into her girlfriend's mouth as she came, noises swallowed by the English girl, although the music would have drown them out anyway.

Kiss growing softer now, Lucy kept their mouths attached, guiding Ona through her high before she slowly removed her fingers, using the other hand to pull Ona's dress down.

Completely forgetting where they were, the English girl brought up her soaked fingers and pushed them into Ona's mouth, who swiftly sucked them clean, the taste better than ever.

This was too obvious now, the friends around them missing the real show but catching enough of the aftermath to know they had missed something.

Nikita shoved Tooney, pointing over as Lucy slid her fingers out of Ona's mouth and gripped the side of her head, kissing her deeply.

"Jesus, get a room you two!" Tooney shouted, turning everyone's attention to the pair.

Ona opened her eyes in panic, but the second she saw Lucy's reassuring eyes so close, she instantly calmed and continued the kiss, ignoring Tooney completely.

As they pulled apart Ona put the side of her head against Lucy's chest, arms wrapped around each other as their breathing returned to a normal pace.

"Happy Birthday week baby," Lucy said over the music, the first present unexpected but perfect.

///

As the week went on, the surprises only got better. Ona felt like a sex addict, it was relentless but apparently Lucy's idea of birthday presents were multiple orgasms a day.

When her actual birthday arrived, walking into the living room of Lucy's apartment was like Christmas morning for Ona. Presents were stacked in a huge pile, covering the whole coffee table.

The English girl approached from behind and wrapped her arms round the younger girl's waist.

"Happy Birthday mi amor," Lucy whispered before kissing over Ona's exposed shoulder.

"Think you might have gone a little overboard, Lucia," Ona said, but she leant round to kiss Lucy, showing she was still grateful.

"Narlaaaaa," the Spaniard cooed as the white ball of fur bounded over to her. "When did you get here?"

This was the first time Ona had met Narla but you wouldn't be able to tell, the Westie jumping all over her and covering her in licks, more comfortable with her than she was with most people.

"Keira dropped her this morning," Lucy said, admiring how her two favourite girls were getting on so quickly.

Ona showed her all the love and affection until Narla started to lose interest, jumping on the sofa to get a better view of the presents while leaving enough space for Ona to slide next to her.

"Let's do this then," Lucy said, passing Ona her first present.

Each gift was unique, either a joke or something thoughtful, including a Barcelona cushion to replace her Man U one, a variety of sex toys, clothes from the brands of Lucy's she loved so she could have some of her own, an album of various photos they'd taken together in their first 6 months complete with annotations ranking how in love Lucy was with her that day.

Finally they got to the card, which Lucy had insisted she saved until last.

As the Spaniard opened the card, tears instantly flooded her eyes. "Oh Luce," she said before even starting to read.

Hola carinyo,

No saps quant t'estimo! Haver-te conegut ha sigut la millor cosa que m'ha passat mai, de debò. Mai oblidaré el moment en què ens vam trobar, i des de llavors no he deixat de pensar en tu.

Fins i tot crec que t'estimo més que a la meva gossa, i ja saps quant l'estimo a ella. Des del moment en què et vaig veure al casament, vaig saber que t'estimaria.

Aquell dia vaig sentir una connexió especial, com si fos el destí. Cada dia amb tu ha estat una aventura meravellosa, i no puc esperar per veure què ens depara el futur.

Ets la millor persona que he conegut mai, i no em puc imaginar la vida sense tu. Espero que aquest aniversari sigui tan especial com tu ho ets per a mi.

Un petó enorme,

La teva Lucia xxx

(Rough translation)

Hi darling,

You have no idea how much I love you! Meeting you was honestly the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I will never forget our meeting and I haven't stopped thinking about you since.

I might even love you more than I love my dog, and you know that's a lot.

From the moment I saw you, I knew I was going to love you. Every day with you has been a wonderful adventure, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for us.

You are the best person l've ever met, and I can't imagine life without you.

I hope this birthday is as special as you are.

Huge kisses,

Your Lucia

Ona was in absolute bits, Narla nestling into her, slightly concerned by the tears falling down her new friend's cheeks.

"Did I spell something offensively wrong?" Lucy asked jokingly but also slightly nervously as she hadn't seen Ona like this before.

Ona let out a liquid filled chuckle, but not quite able to speak yet she just put her head in her hands to try control her breathing and stop the tears.

Lucy hopped off the sofa and grabbed a box of tissues, before taking matters into her own hands and mopping up her girlfriend's soggy face.

Ona, managing to compose herself as she laughed at Lucy's thorough cleaning of her face, finally said, "I can't believe this Lucy. I can't believe how special this is, how special you are."

The Spaniard stroked the older girl's cheek delicately, not really able to put into words how the card had made her feel, but Lucy could read it perfectly from her eyes.

"I was scared for a second there, thought the girls had taught me something highly offensive that has made you cry," Lucy said, allowing herself to be loved and stroked by Ona.

"You got them in on this?" the Spaniard asked, shocked Lucy would sign herself up for future teasing.

"Yeah," the English girl said shyly, "although I wish Thad asked Alexia instead of Jana and Pina. Those two tried to tell me 'I have loved fucking you and I think we should take a break' were sweet things to say in a birthday card, thank god for Google Translate.

Ona laughed, collapsing into Lucy's chest, loving that she had got help for this but already dreading the abuse coming their way.

"Well they could have kept the first bit," the Spaniard said, turning to push Lucy down, back flat against the sofa.

Narla scurried off, as if she knew this wasn't the part of the morning she needed to be present for.

"But I was gonna make special birthday pancakes," Lucy protested half-heartedly.

Ona held a finger over Lucy's lips before pulling down her shorts, "later."

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #lucy bronze fanfic #lucy bronze ona batlle #ona batlle fanfic #woso fanfics #luna fanfic #woso community #woso imagine #luna

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leosxrealm · 8 months

Text

003 — ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ

★— pairing(s): Max Verstappen x Male! Leclerc! Reader

★— warning(s): none!! possible grammar mistakes, hints of angst

★— (a/n): idk a lot about modeling either so i just made up what i think would happen there. we're finally building up the plot (barely started), not proofread!

★— character information | series masterlist

19-22

September 3, 2019

"Tilt your head to the right... just a bit... yeah, just like that." You did as you were told. You hear the sound of the camera and the lights flashing. The photographer takes another quick shot.

The director goes to check the pictures that were taken recently. The photographer gives you a quick nod, a little something he does to indicate he liked the pictures.

"Okay everyone!" the director claps his hands to get everyone's attention, "15-minute break, and then we do the last shoot for the day!"

There was a chorus of sighs of relief from everyone around you. It looks like everyone else couldn't wait to leave the studio either.

You return to the changing rooms along with a few of your coworkers. You had gotten to know some of them over the past few months and could now confidently call them your friends.

You pick up your phone from your makeup station. Opening it, you see a couple of texts from your friends and brothers. Clicking open your brother's contact, you answer his recent messages.

"Tell him to come up," another model who you've befriended said, looking over your shoulder. "Is that even allowed?" you ask. He had been in the industry for far longer than you; he was sort of like an upperclassman to you.

"Friends and families come to shoots all the time," he said emphasizing the word 'all', "Usually you have to get permission and stuff but it's the end of the shoot. Nobody has enough energy to care."

"Oh."

He pats you on the shoulder, getting up from the chair beside yours, "You will have to go downstairs to get them. The security won't let them through." "Thanks, mate," you call after him, he throws a lazy smile your way, disappearing into one of the changing stalls.

"Uh...you guys can sit on the couches over there," you say pointing to the couches near the makeup stations, "and we have snacks over there," you say pointing to the opposite side of the couches, "and right next to that, we have refrigerators. Help yourself with the drinks."

You show your brother around for a bit before settling on the makeup station with your name on it. Your makeup artist gets to work immediately, getting you ready for the last shoot, when you hear your name being called. You let out an exhale, mentally preparing yourself for the last of the shoot.

---

"Damnnnn... you're actually good at something," Arthur says, chuckling at his own little joke. "At least I look natural," you retort back, earning a punch on the arm from your twin.

"I look natural in my photos," he says back defensively, looking at Charles for some kind of reaffirmation. Charles turns his head, deciding not to comment on his younger brother's awkward poses for photoshoots. You snicker at your older brother's reaction, earning a smack on the back of your head from your twin.

"Okay... Are you two hungry? What do you want to eat?" Charles finally intervenes, before you two decide to start a full-on brawl. "Man...," you whine out, "I'm starving."

"Me too," Arthur adds with a scowl. "We couldn't even get food because someone," he gives you a stink eye, "can't even finish up by the time they said they would."

You roll your eyes at him, ready to retort back when Charles' car comes into view. "I call shotgun!" you say, running towards the car. "Bitch-" Arthur runs to catch up, leaving Charles behind. Charles shakes his head, long given up on you two. Freaking kids, he thinks.

You look in the rearview mirror, at Arthur's scowling face. He scoffs looking out the window, still pissy about having to sit in the back. You laugh at him (again), resulting in him kicking your seat. Charles finally decides to cut in before the two of you destroy his baby.

Charles mentally celebrates when the restaurant comes into view. At least he won't have to worry about his baby getting destroyed for another hour or two. He sighs once again, pushing the both of you inside. Freaking kids, he thinks (once again).

"Oh yeah, what happened to that girl you were dating?" Arthur asks just as you were about to bite into your food.

---

18-21

You raised your hand, ready to press the doorbell, before lowering it back again. Taking a deep breath, you ring the doorbell. You cleared your throat while waiting for the door to open. Hearing the door open, you look up.

Max sucks in a deep breath, not expecting to come face-to-face with you. Is that a suit you're wearing? Are those flowers in your hands? "Wha-what are you doing here?" He questions you, suddenly remembering how to speak.

"Oh... Um... I'm here for-" you begin to say before stopping abruptly. You look up suddenly, and Max thinks it's to look at him, but instead, you look behind him. The corners of your lips lift up into a soft smile.

(a/n): i'm sorry the title is so lame😭 anyway any guesses what's happening?

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (ᴏᴘᴇɴ): @miloformula123fan @its-ares @fangirl-dot-com @wolf-knights @zyonsay @1obsessedwithfictionalmen7 @fevndue @erinpiastri @woozarts @sebastianstansblog @badblondebisexualboy @lovecarsgoingvroom @kurating @saintraikkonen @v3lnys

#★—wish you were (mv1)#formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 x male reader #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x male reader #charles leclerc x male reader #charles leclerc x reader #x male reader #male reader #gay #leo's works #leosxrealm

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itsstrange · 9 months

Note

Karl Urban/Reader

Reader and Karl are friends. Like each but dont say. Live about 6 houses away from each other with her shitty ex in-between. Reader goes to ex house walks in on him cheating. (You decide what) Runs out and winds up at Karl's house. But not home at the moment. He comes home to find reader sitting on his porch.

He takes care of her. Maybe confess attraction to each other other . Fluff and smut and sweetness if all possible

**idea came from something that happen to a friend of mine . They had someone always there.

A/N: Another Request Delivered. I actually debated on writing this one because I wasn’t sure how other people would view me as. But just wanted to leave this out in the open, in case your friend is not comfortable or not happy with a story being written in regards to her past experiences and would like to be taken down I would gladly do so, not many people would want others to know what they’ve been through. So Again, feel free to lmk and I’ll right away take it down! ❤️

ANOTHER NOTE: Everything that has been written is NOT what actually happened in the real events, all of it was created by me! I did Not write anything that was related to the situation! In fact I have no idea what exactly happened, but I will again remove this story if the requester’s friend is not comfortable with it. Sincerely, ItsStrange ❤️

Treat You Better

Fandom: The Boys

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: (Yess-ish?) Toxic Relationship, Mention of Verbal Abuse, Arguments, a Little Bit of Physical Violence, Hurt Reader, Protective Karl, Confessions, Smut, Kissing, (You Know The Smut Tags)

Like in Mendes words: “I know I can Treat You Better, Better Than He Can,”

————

Enjoy! 🔥

————

——————

“Need another?” Russel’s deep voice startles you from where you’re focused was on your bandaged hand, fingers gently prodding at loose strands of strings,

Your bloodshot red eyes meet his light brown orbs, concern and a hint of anger we’re hidden behind, but no words of said feeling we’re displayed at you. Even if that’s all he wanted to do, let you know how he feels of the certain situation that you are currently in, let you know you are better off, that you deserve better and should have just dumped the fucker from the beginning, but he didn’t. Because from the years that he’s known you, he knows expressing his own feelings and opinions on the subject would not help, yes maybe the you deserve better would be appropriate to let you know, but the rest of what he has banging in his throat is not appropriate. Nor is it a humane thing to say, at least not right now.

Hell, the things he wanted to do to that son of a bitch for hurting you yet again were not humane. Just from your expression alone when you came strolling in his bar let him know something had happened, but when you finally told him everything as he bandaged your bloody hand, pure rage was igniting inside of him. Especially at the condition of your hand, it hand bruises already forming, split knuckles with dried blood smeared throughout your skin. If it wasn’t from the explanation you had told him he would have thought you had just came back from a brawl.

So from what you had told him, you were just coming back from the studio, your first album after two years of taking a mental break was finally coming out which you couldn’t be more excited. Everything you’ve been through, all the losses you’ve had the last couple years, the struggles you were going through were being put into your new album, and you couldn’t wait to share it to the world, to let your fans know it’s okay to feel low because at some point you find that strength to rise up once again.

Yet, despite of your excitement about your upcoming project, there was always that dark cloud hovering in the back of your mind, reminding you of reality, of what waits at home for you. The first couple of months that you had given him a second chance were great, they were amazing, perfect even, but it was the last two months we’re everything started to fall back into old habits. The constant arguments of the smallest things, the jealousy between you two was stronger than before, the cruel words that were exchanged on a daily bases were just insane. You two were not working, again, and you weren’t happy, but for some reason you just couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t call it, you couldn’t decide if you should end it or give it more time to see if he’d fucking change some how. But he never did.

And it was tonight that proved to you he will never change.

It had been a long day at the studio. All your frustrations and stress were put into the studio, into your music that you hadn’t realize it was nearing one in the morning. Not only did you also realize you were completely drained, both physically and mentally, but you also noticed it was passed your limit to keep the room, so after saving everything, packing everything up, you bid your farewells to your team before following Tim, your bodyguard, to the suv to drive you home. You honestly didn’t want to go home, knowing what waited for you, pure disappointment and a pointless awaiting argument. Just the thought of him waiting in the entrance of your shared home, probably drunk off his ass made a headache form. You wouldn’t doubt it, he had been blowing up your phone since you left that morning in hopes to stay away from him. And Lordy did that bring ridiculous accusations from the idiot. Claiming he knew why you left the house so early on a Sunday morning just like you have been the last couple of months, which you couldn’t help let a scoff out before ignoring the rest of his stupidity messages.

You could have easily told Tim to take you to a hotel, but you honestly didn’t want to rise suspicions from him, nobody knew of your on again off again struggles with your toxic boyfriend, not even your own family, because you knew what they’d say. So, to prevent any words that you don’t want to hear you hid your toxicity relationship from them and only displayed a fake happy couple for family gatherings or public appearances. Because you honestly don’t think you’ll be able to deal with all the prying questions from people left and right. So hidden it stays.

After hours of driving in comfortable, peaceful silence, something you knew you wouldn’t have for the remainder of the night, you finally arrive at your house. Thanking Tim and relieving him for the night to catch some sleep as well, you slowly make your way towards the black wooden door. You noticed how all the lights have been turned off, which is a rare thing to see when the lowlife is home alone and drunk. It was even more rare when everything seemed quiet as soon as you stepped inside, maybe he left to drink with his moron friends, you remember thinking to yourself as you shut the door. But the silence that engulfed the entire home was soon cut short with a muffled moan coming from upstairs. You remembered the way your body froze at the sound, both at the fact that it was not a pained moan nor was it a man’s moan, no that sounded way too pitched to be a man’s moan.

The event played clearly in your head. Heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling from the rage that was quickly rising in your veins as you slowly walked up the stairs, feeling the way your hairs from your arms rise when the muffled grunts and moans sounded much clearer as you stood on the second floor. Breath picking up its pace as the rage only seems to grow when you made your way to the white door that was slightly ajar. You believe you’ll always remember the way your veins boiled with rage at the sight in front of you.

The familiar tattooed back facing your direction was clearly oblivious to your presence by the door as the asshole was too busy making the female underneath him cry out of pure pleasure. Your hands shook by your sides, slowly forming into a tight fist, however, it wasn’t until Bryan, that piece of shit had leaned his head back that caught his attention to the mirror, recognizing who you were he immediately turned to look at you but was sent falling back against the bed, crushing the girl. Pain traveled up your wrist, but you didn’t care, not with the rage blinding you, the moment he went back against the cushion you finally let your bottled up emotions on the man. Sending blow after blow, some connected with his face while others missed just passed his head.

‘Y/n stop!’ You remember him pleading to you but was cut off with another strong blow to his jaw, that literally sends him off the bed and onto the ground with a groan,

The moment he touched the wooden floor, you bolted out the room without another word. Not even when he pathetically calls after you, scrambling on his feet gathering whatever clothing he can get as he tries to reach you, but just as he steps outside the door you were already in your car driving away.

Hot tears slid down your face, both from hurt and rage, all you saw was red. The things that you wanted to do, the pain you wanted to inflict on him, your mind raced as you blindly drove down the street.

It wasn’t until you had reached a red light where you realized the one person you truly wanted to cry to was not an option right now, Bryan knew that’s where you’d run off to, so in order for that not to happen you knew you needed to be somewhere far away where he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Which leads you back here, sitting at Russel’s bar, with a possible broken hand. Your old man’s best friend, or as you like tell everyone to know, your uncle Russ, was your second choice to hide away for a couple minutes, maybe an hour or two. You honestly don’t know how long it has been but from the empty glasses of shots in front of you, you know it’s been at least passed an hour.

“Kid?”

Russel speaks out again, grabbing your attention once again. Your (E/c) eyes meet with his own, brows tightly knitted as he observes you with that familiar dad stare. Shit.. what did he ask me again? Oh right..

“Yeah.. I’ll take one for the road,”

The older man eyes you for a second, watching the way your mind wonders once again as you look down at your empty glass, but goes ahead and reaches for the Jameson bottle that you’ve adopted since you arrived at his bar.

“Where you headin?” Russel asks as he pours another pour for you, hoping you weren’t going back to that nightmare of a man,

Cradling the glass in between your hands, numbs playing with the rim of it, you think of his words. You knew where you were going, but didn’t know if it was safe to go, considering his house was only a few blocks down from your shared home with that son of bitch. Then again, it has been an hour or so since you’ve left and the constant messages you’ve received from him only shows he has no idea where you are. Thank god you never introduced him to your families bar, a decision you had made a while back after your first breakup, he knew where your mother lived, knew where your siblings lived, knew where your close friends lived, so you knew you had to have one spot to hide away from him, and Russel’s bar was the place.

Russel never took it to heart on why you never brought him over, in fact he rather not have him anywhere near his bar, he never did like him from the start, which you never took it personal because you couldn’t blame him. Jesus.. you knew why Russel never accepted him and yet you still decided to be with that piece of shit, and for what? You don’t even know why and that alone brings a soft snort from you, catching the bar owners attention.

“You should wait up, let the Jameson cool down,” Russel claims, picking up the shots in front of you and placing them in the basket to wash later,

Your eyes lift from your now empty glass, which… you apparently had drank, and look at the man who takes the glass from your hands before replacing it with a large glass of water.

“Drink and sober up,” He demands, knowing you weren’t exactly on the right mental state to be driving with alcohol in your system,

Even if he knew you were able to hold your alcohol pretty well, he still didn’t want to risk your life, neither one of your family members would ever forgive him if he’d ever let anything happen to you under his watch.

After chugging the large glass of water, eating some salted cashews and watching a rerun of some football game for a good 30 minutes or so, you begin to climb off your stool. Just as you reach in your pocket for some change you feel a cashew hitting you directly on your forehead causing you to flinch.

“That better be you fishing out your car keys and not money,” He points at you with a long finger,

“Russ-,” You try but was cut off,

“Don’t Russ me. Go. Go to your mom’s and rest up kiddo, and when mornin comes, you better give her the whole story so she can personally kick his ass,” You roll your eyes with a short chuckle as you steal another cashew from the bowl to throw it at him,

“Alright, G’night Uncle Russ,”

“Night kiddo, get there safely,” He pleads as he walks around the bar to give you a tight hug before walking you out the building,

You wave at him before making your way to your car, where you sit in the drivers side for five minutes, debating whether you should just drive to mothers home instead of his, it was pretty late nearing three in the morning, but if you were being completely honest you didn’t need anyone else other than him right now. It was him you needed, his soothing words, his warmth, his comfort, him.

You just hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with you for dragging your problems to him so late at night.

++++

As you rounded the familiar street, you turned off your headlights just in case Bryan was still awake, despite him staying six houses down, knowing him he’d still know it’d be you pulling into the street. So after turning the lights off, you pull into his driveway where you notice his 2018 black Hellcat sitting there, indicating he’s either home or he took the Mustang for the night. Your thoughts are answered when you went to knock on his door only to receive no answer after the fifth knock.

So with an exhausted sigh, you go ahead and sit on his front steps. At this point you should have just went to your mothers house, at least there you had keys where you can easily walk in instead of waiting on the front steps like a loser. Which speaking of, the longer you sat on the steps and each yawn that escaped from you only pulled on your exhaustion even more. Making you realize just how tired you were, both physically and mentally, all you wanted was sleep. Sleep until the night vanished, until you weren’t in this moment, sleep until you wake up feeling happy for yourself again instead of feeling such pain and frustration. It’s all you wanted at the moment.

However, before you can actually allow yourself to fall asleep on his steps like a total loser, you hear the familiar roar of an engine driving down the street, then bright headlights blinding you for a second before coming to a stop right next to your rs7. Lowering your head down to rub away the spots from your vision, you hear the engine shutting off right before hearing the drivers door opening and closing.

Than that beautiful deep rich accent filling your ears.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out your name, causing you to look up at him, a small smile tugging on your lip as you bring down your face again, slightly avoiding his gaze for now,

“Where are the boys?” You ask, starting small talk as you pick on dead skin on your thumb,

“With their mum. Just came back from the pub,” He responds as he slowly walks closer towards you, what you didn’t see was the way his brows were tightly knitted together as he observed your hunched frame on his steps,

They only knit tighter and his worry only grew when you respond with a small nod, along with a whispered ‘nice’ as you continue to look down at your lap, avoiding him. However, just as he’s within reach he notices the dried tear stains on your cheeks, but what really makes his blood boil was the way your right hand was bandaged up, starting from your wrist to your knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he crouches in front of you, getting a slightly better view of your face. Although, as you continued to avoid his gaze, he softly places a finger underneath your chin before gently lifting your face, where your red eyes finally meet with angry hazel orbs.

“Where is he?” Is all he says, hazel eyes never parting from yours,

Dropping your gaze from his, you slowly shake your head as best you can in his grip, “I don’t know,”

Of course you’d lie. And of course he knew because without another word he grips his keys in his hand before rising and darting back towards his driveway.

“Karl stop,” You call out to him, slowly walking after him,

“Gonna kill that cunt,” You hear him snarl over his shoulder, but before he can reach his lawn your small hand wrapping around his forearm stops him from going further,

“Stop,” You tell him, hand still holding onto his arm with a loose grip,

“That fuckin’ cunt crossed it,” He claims, voice laced with sharp venom, hazel eyes shining with rage instead of his warm, welcoming orbs,

“I know. But he’s not worth getting in trouble for,” Your own eyes held a firm look as you gazed up at his angered orbs, then, with an exhausted sigh you close your eyes, “Can we just..,” Another sigh, “Can we please just go inside,”

Karl’s anger and frown slowly fades away as he reads the exhaustion on your face. Just how long were you sitting out here for? Why didn’t you give him a call? He asks himself, but rather than prying you with such questions he simply nods at you before letting you lead him up the stairs. After fishing out his keys, opening the door he lets you walk in first before following right behind. Once shutting and locking the door, he makes his way to the living room, where you quietly stood by the entrance. Just lost in thought or possibly replaying the nights event.

“Here, sit down,” He offers, gently walking you to the couch, “I’ll make coffee,”

You let out a soft chuckle as you sit down, eyes looking up at him, “It’s nearly four in the morning Karl,”

It was then you realized his form and outfit of the night. Hair slightly tousled, grey t-shirt, green leather jacket on top, faded jeans with some brown boots on his feet. He looked absolutely handsome, just like any other day.

A small smile tugs on his lips at the realization, “Tea then,” and with that he makes his way towards the kitchen,

Leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, fingers playing with dead skin on your thumbs while your mind drifts once again, thinking about it, about him, about how much time you’ve wasted on him. How much energy you’ve physically and mentally drained from yourself by simply being with him. Then realizing just how stupid you were for even considering on giving that piece of shit another chance, realizing just how much of a fucking joke you made yourself look. You sat there blaming yourself for all the shit you decided to go through, for having faith that he would change, for believing he’d actually love you and care for you.

But now look at you. Back to square one. You wouldn’t have been in this situation again if you hadn’t given him another chance. You wouldn’t be feeling like a fucking joke if you hadn’t given him the okay a few months ago, nor would you be sitting in Karl’s couch with dried tears and smeared makeup if you’d just told him no.

‘No you can’t come back, no this wouldn’t work, no we just aren’t meant for each other, no you are a fucking waste of time.’ If only those were the words you had told him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.

After about four to five minutes of brewing the tea, pouring a good amount into two mugs, and putting one spoon of honey into your navy mug (which of course he knows it’s the only way you’ll drink tea). He finally makes his way back to the living room, where he finds you sitting with your feet up on the couch, arms hugging your legs towards your chest, with your cheek resting on your knees. However, the sound of your soft sniffles has him reaching the couch in two long strides. Placing both mugs on the coffee table he settles right next to you before hugging your hunched frame, which you immediately hide your face in the crook of his neck.

The tears that rapidly slid down your cheeks weren’t from heartbreak, it was from anger, embarrassment, shame, and disappointment. Not from him, but from yourself. You were angry at the fact that he cheated on you again, angry at that fact that you trusted him again, angry at the fact that you were so stupid in giving him another chance. Embarrassed at the fact that he made you look like a fool again, embarrassed that the whole world will once again know he cheated on you, embarrassed that you are going through this shit again. Every emotion flowed through you, consumed you that all you can do is just let it out through rapid tears. Your hands gripping tightly onto Karl’s shirt as you try burying your face deeper into his neck, as if that’ll shield you from the total embarrassment that you are facing at the moment.

“I’m so fucking.. stupid!” You sob against his skin, hands clutching tighter onto his shirt,

Karl is quick to shush you with a shake of his head. Tightening his hold on you as he lets one hand sooth your back, awhile slightly rocking you both on the couch.

“Shh.. no you’re not,” He mumbles on the crown of your head,

“I n-never should’ve..-,” The words get stuck in your throat as another angered sob leaves your lips, “God.. I should’ve fucking known!”

“Shh,” He continues to soothe you, body slightly rocking you, hugging you tighter and closer towards his chest, “Just let it out love. Everything you feel right now, just let it out. I’m right ‘ere,”

And you do. You let the hot, angry tears slip down your cheeks, let the bottled up emotions fall past your lips, your broken, frustrated, angered sobs filling the quietness of his living room.

It wasn’t long when the tears had stopped falling down your cheeks, when you’ve calmed down and simply just laid your head on his chest as he laid back against the cushion. Hand cradling and gently massaging your head, soothing you and comforting you. Yet, his fingers come to a halt at your sudden words.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, fingers playing with his grey shirt, feeling guilty for burdening him with your situation, “M’sorry for.. bringing my shit to you,”

His brows knit together as he glances down at your head, “Don’t be,”

“I am,” You argue back, voice slightly quivering and breaking due to the crying session not that long ago, “If it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here. Bothering you.”

Karl stood quiet, weighing his words that he wants to tell you. That he’s been wanting to tell you, ever since your first breakup, he wanted to let you know but was never given the chance. Then before he knew it, it was too late, he had lost the opportunity to let you know but now, now he won’t let it slip. He was scared before, fearing it would ruin things between you two, he’d lose you for what he reveal to you and he couldn’t have that. He still doesn’t want that, but you have to know. No matter what happens, he just has to let you know.

“You’re right,” You hear him say, feeling the way your heart slightly shatters at his agreement, but before you can even begin to pull away from his hold his voice stops you from doing so, “You shouldn’t be going through this. You shouldn’t be runnin’ from home, shouldn’t be crying at my steps at the three in the mornin’… fuckin hell (Y/n)..,”

He curses with a frustrated wince as he slightly forces you to sit, forcing you to stare into his eyes as he continues, “You deserve more. You deserve the whole fuckin world, every happiness there is. You deserve to be treated like you should be treated. A goddamn queen,” His hazel orbs bore into yours, not once parting, not even with his next words,

He hesitates for a second, but pushing the fear down he finally says, “Any guy would be lucky to have you.. and believe me when I tell you… I’ll do anything to see you smile. I’d give everything to bring you nothing but happiness and love. I’ll Treat You Better. Because that’s what you deserve,”

You stare at him in shock, tears slowly building as you take in his words. Never in a million years did you think this man, your closest friend, a talented well-known actor who gets to travel the world for his work, gets to meet and have dinners with other well known actors and actresses—who by the way are some of your all time favorite people— would ever make such a deep confrontation to you. Who would share the same feelings you have been desperately trying to stow away for multiple reasons, fearing if you ever gave into said feelings you’d lose him forever, so you went ahead and kept those feelings to yourself and try to distract yourself by putting so much effort in trying to fix a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be mixed nor was it meant for you.

As tears slowly slide down your cheeks, you feel a warm hand resting on the side of your cheek, then a soft thumb gently brushing away a tear. Hazel eyes locking with your own, not once parting away.

“Let me love you like you deserve to be loved,” He whispers, thumb still wiping away fresh tears,

No words were said, just a simple nod from you was all he needed to finally let his lips latch onto yours. The kiss was soft but firm as you both poured your hidden emotions into it. Fresh new tears slid down your cheeks as you kissed him, relief is what they were. Relieved that you finally gave in to those feelings, relieved that he too shared those feelings and that alone caused the tears to come out as you cherished his warm lips.

The kiss soon picked up its pace when he gently prods your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, which you gladly accepted. The moment his tongue sweeps with your own, it has you melting against him like no other, has you forgetting about everything around you, forgetting about that asshole, the pain on your hand, everything. All your focus was on him and only him. The way his mouth collides perfectly with your own, the way his hands gently run along your hips, legs, towards your lower back before maneuvering you onto his lap.

“This okay?” He asks in between kisses, hands respectfully waiting on your hips,

“Yes, please,” You find yourself begging him, but he doesn’t tease you about it, nor does he laugh at your neediness because hell, he too was desperate for you,

Without another word he dives back to your lips, letting them collide much rougher and firmer. Letting your tongues battle with each other before allowing him to take control. A moan and a groan can be heard between you two when you slightly rock your hips on his lap, making you feel just how much he wants you at the moment. Yet, it was another firm rock of your hips that has him rising from the couch, strong arms holding you against him as he makes his way towards his bedroom. Once there he quickly walks towards his bed where he gently lays your frame against the cushion. He hovers over you, lips still connected with each other as he teases back with a thrust of his own hips, causing a small gasp to leave your lips when you feel the way his hardened member presses against your covered core.

He didn’t tease for long considering he’s waited for this very moment for as long as he can remember. Not wasting another second he slowly begins rising your shirt up your body and off your frame, tossing it to the side of the bed he lets his warm lips press feathery kisses along your skin, causing goosebumps to travel throughout your body with every kiss he placed on new piece of skin. You then feel the way his hand slips beneath you before feeling your bra loosen around your chest, then feeling the way he slowly removes it from you. Large hands cover your breast, emitting a low moan when he grips and massages them before allowing his mouth to wrap around one of your already hardened buds. A gasp once again escapes from you at the sensitive feeling.

Yet it soon fades when he averts his mouth from your breast to your lips, pecking them once, twice before letting you remove his own grey shirt from his frame. Your hands land gently against his toned chest, then letting them travel down his torso, watching the way his toned stomach flexes at your nails ghostly scraping against his skin. Your fingers land on his belt where they begin to undo it from its place. Once unbuckled, button and fly open, your eyes are locked on his when you slowly reach inside his pants, watching the way his lips turn to a firm line as a deep heavy sigh slips through his nose at your touch. Feeling the way his harden member slightly twitches when your rubs become firmer.

However, what emitted a broken grunt from the man hovering above you was when you let your fingers slip past his dark briefs to grip onto his thick heated shaft. A shuddered sigh escapes past his lips at the first tug you make, hazel eyes slightly disappearing behind those eyelids as he tries to keep his gaze on you with every stroke you give him. After the fourth tug he bends down to plant a kiss on your lips before pulling away from you to let his own hands undo your jeans. Once your shoes had been removed, your jeans were next, following your navy underwear, leaving you completely bare to him. You hear the way he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as he observes your naked frame, hands gently rubbing up and down your beautiful thighs.

“Ātaahua,” Karl whispers huskily under his breath, hazel eyes scanning your naked frame before locking them with your own,

Heat rises up your cheeks at the familiar word, yet before you can even decided on hiding from him he quickly bends down to peck your lips before rising once again to remove the remainder of his clothing. Now that his jeans and briefs were off him, leaving him bare to you, your eyes grow wide as you scan the rest of him.

Yeah you felt him a few seconds ago, knew he was thick from touch alone, but now, seeing it up close and personal you didn’t think he’d be that thick and.. big.

His member stood proudly in between his legs, pre-cum leaking beautifully and deliciously from his cherry tip. Veins visible underneath his shaft, looking like a fucking master piece and definitely causing your mouth to go dry from the sight alone.

“See something you like love?” He

responds above you, voice lower than usual, smirk proud on his lips as he stares down at you,

Speechless is what you we’re. No words were able to form nor spill out your mouth, so instead you glance up to meet his eyes, which were laced with lust as he towered over you. Even under the moon light shining brightly through his window, you can see just how much he craved you.

His smirk slowly fades away as he begins lowering himself where he latches his lips on yours once again. A soft moan vibrating through your lips as you feel the tip of his cock rubbing beautifully against your core, then a loud gasp filling the air between you two at the sudden feeling of firm fingers rubbing circles against that bundle of nerves. Causing your back to slightly rise off the bed with parted lips, which Karl immediately dives his warm tongue into your mouth, freely exploring your warmth.

“You are perfect,” He whispers against your lips, fingers still moving between your legs, collecting your wetness and spreading it along your mound before letting two fingers push past your folds,

Earning yet again another gasp and a moan from you. The feeling of his fingers slowly dragging in and out of your heated core has your eyes closing shut, breath picking its pace and grip on his shoulders tightening with every thrust of his hand. The moment he adds his thumb into the mix, it’s like a hurricane begins building at the pit of your stomach, your breath hitches in your throat when he speeds up his movements, your nails dig into his skin when the coil nears its end.

Once snapped, he didn’t even hesitate in pushing his aching member inside of you, nor did he warn you as he begins moving his hips into you. The feeling of his thickness stretching your walls with each pull he’d make only electrified your orgasm, nearly knocking the air from your lungs from how strong it had hit you.

“Fuck,” Karl groans at the sight of you; eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open with breathless moans slipping past those raw lips of yours, completely melting under his hold,

Something he hoped to see one day. And here you are, all for him and only him.

Once he had eased up with the slow thrust of his hips, letting you calm down and catch a breather for a few seconds, you signal him to keep going with a small nod which he complies with a much firmer thrust, earning a breathless gasp from you again.

“Aroha ahau ki a koe,” You hear him whisper breathlessly in your ear over and over with each thrust he sends you,

Causing the same tears of joy, relief, and love to slip down your cheeks from the amount of emotions your were feeling at the moment. The feeling of your second orgasm approaching quicker than you thought, the way those words repeated in your ear every so often, reminding you and showing you just how much he meant his feelings towards you. Showed you just how much he’s longed for you, with everything combining into one the emotions become too much that you couldn’t help the tears to slip out.

One hand gripping onto the back of his dark locks, you gently but firmly tug on his hair, just enough to slot your lips with his. Allowing them to mold into one once again. Breathless pants were shared between you too as you both neared your peak, which didn’t take long. With one slight maneuver from Karl, the new position gave him the opportunity to plumage his member deliciously against that spot, causing you to once again melt under his hold. Nails digging painfully but beautifully against his skin, leaving red marks along his broad back as he continues with his thrusts.

“Aroha ana ahau ki a koe,” Was all you needed to whisper back for Karl to reach the end of the line,

With a loud, choked groan, he slams his hips into you one last time before feeling his own orgasm overpowering him. Sending him in a blissful state. Strong arms shook before him as they prevented him from crushing you, breath coming out in quick choked puffs through his nose as he rode it off, grunts rumbling in his throat every so often until he’s calm down.

Slowly and gently, he guides himself out of you, earning a faint whimper to vibrate in your throat at the empty feeling then a chilled feeling to rush through your entire body when you feel the way his seed drips down your raw core.

After a second or two of gathering your breath and coming down from your high, you open your eyes only to see his own closed shut. Hands still plastered on the bed on either side of your head to keep him upright you watch him as he takes in deep steady breaths through his nose before exhaling. A short smile tugs on your lips as you watch him, observing the way his hair slightly falls down his face, sweat glistening beautifully against his skin, making him look absolute stunning. Even under the dim light.

With no words, you let your left hand reach up, letting your fingers run through his dark beard until they reach his slightly damped locks. The gentle massages that your fingers apply against his scalp has those hazel eyes of his to finally be on display. They held sweet love in them the longer they lingered on yours, then watch as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lip before letting one hand cradle your cheek, thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

Still smiling down at you with hazel orbs locked with your own he whispers, “Toku ao,”

Your brows slightly furrow at the unknown word, but a smile still tugged on the corner of your lips, “I don’t know that one,”

A faint chuckle fans your face. Hazel eyes not once leaving yours as he speaks once again, which not only widens your smile but also has your heart erupting from pure warmth and happiness with his next words.

“You’re my world,” Those beautiful hazel eyes of his that crinkle at the sides stare at you with so much love and light,

Bending down he closes the gap between you two, placing two long pecks on your lips before maneuvering himself to lay on his side where you are quick to cuddle right next to him. Your head on his chest, arm across his abdomen with one leg draped over his. You both stood awake for another ten minutes or so just talking about anything and everything, from sharing when exactly you both had realized one’s feelings to how was work to random topics really before finally falling asleep.

The way Karl would gently draw invisible shapes on your shoulder blades had you drifting away in matter of seconds, and the way your steady breathing would invade his ears Karl followed soon after. Leaving you both in a peaceful sleep while still holding onto each other.

Not once letting go, even when you both had moved during your sleep, neither one had slipped up. Karl knew this because around somewhere in the afternoon, his eyelids slowly open, the back of your head being his view. Hair surprisingly looking nicely combed and beautiful even through the night it had been through.

The thought of going back to sleep to get some more rest laid heavily behind his eyelids, but just as sleep would overtake him again the sound of banging on the door has him lifting his head from the pillows. Brows tightly furrowed as he wondered who can possibly be knocking at his door. Another rough bang against his door has him averting his eyes to your still sleeping frame, completely unaware of the intruding noise, showing him just how exhausted you must’ve been.

So with slow and careful moments he’s untangling himself from your hold before slowly climbing out of bed. Grabbing his briefs from the floor and slipping on some black sweats he quietly makes his way towards the door, where someone was determined in knocking down his door with those brutal knocks.

The moment he swings the door open and realizes who’s behind it, his face instantly changes from annoyance to anger. Standing outside his home with a dark grimace on their face was your ex. From what Karl can tell he hadn’t slept all night.

“Where is she?” He demands, hands quickly forming into fists at his sides,

“The fuckin’ nerve you’ve got comin’ here,” Karl snarls back, one hand gripping onto the door handle as the rage slowly boils in his veins,

“Where is she Urban?” The man tries again, taking a step forward as if to intimidate him, but what he didn’t know was with each step he took was only getting him closer to his own grave,

Karl scoffs, removing his hand from the doorknob to face him directly, “Not at your house that’s for sure,”

It was at that moment he’d realized where exactly you’d be. After taking in his appearance; no shirt, just sweats, hair completely a mess, all signs were clearly visible.

“You piece of shit,” He goes again taking another step but Karl took one step forward, stopping him in his tracks as he over towers him,

Hazel eyes looking directly at those slightly frightened blues of his.

“You never deserved her mate,” Karl claims, eyes turning firmer as he continues with, “Now how ‘bout you leg it, before I make you swallow your own fuckin’ teeth,”

The threat made a cold shiver run down Bryan’s back. He still displayed a firm look, hands balled into fists at his sides, but both men knew it was all a cover. Bryan truly didn’t know Karl and but he knew at that moment, this man would risk his entire career for you. Which not only frightened him but also worried him on the lengths he was willing to go for you.

So, with a weak attempt of displaying a tough look, he holds his glare until he turns around to walk away from the man’s front lawn. Karl watches him walk back to his car then watches him burn rubber like total asshole before finally walking back inside, realizing just how much rage was riding in his veins. His hands shook from the amount of anger he had and from the tight grip he kept to prevent him from lashing out, but with a deep inhale though his nose he makes his way back to his room.

Where you remained asleep.

Slowly and carefully to not wake you up, he climbs back into bed. The moment he settles on his side, you turn in your sleep, facing him directly, his grey sheets slightly slipping off your shoulder, revealing that beautiful skin of yours, revealing your gorgeous face.

Just by looking at you did it subside the anger he had. The effect that you had on him. It was also at that moment he realized just how madly in love he was with you, how he’ll do anything for you, protect you, love you, give you anything and everything in the world just to have that beautiful smile of yours on your face at all times. He promised himself and you, that last night will be the last night you cry in front of him, it will be the last time someone hurts you, he promised you he’ll always be there, your very own shinning armor protecting and guarding you till his very last breath.

He knew he wanted you in his life for the rest of his life, but he didn’t know he meant it the other way until the words softly slipped from his mouth, a part of him freaked at the sudden realization, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes just how truthful and right the words felt in his chest. He repeated it again in his head then as he brought his warm hazel eyes to your sleeping form, he lets them fall again as a promise.

“Ka marena ahau ki a koe,”

I’m going to marry you.

—————

-Went overboard with this one so… hope y’all liked it!

-Also if it feels rushed towards the end I sincerely apologize I was desperate to just finish this one and give it to y’all already.

-Another thing, I definitely do not speak Māori. So if anyone speaks it out there I deeply apologize if it’s not the right wording 😬😬

- Another, @butchers-girl hope it came out the way you requested, Ik you were constantly asking me how it was going and I appreciated it and I’m sorry I had you waiting this long but.. was definitely taking my time with this one to make it better. So again. Hope you liked this one and can’t wait to publish the rest of your requests! 🫶❤️❤️

- Lastly, MERRY CHRISTMAS PEEPS. LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. ✨❤️

-Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For More Updates!!

————

Word Bank:

Ātaahua: Beautiful.

Aroha ahau ki a koe: I love you.

Aroha ana ahau ki a koe: I love you too.

Toku ao: My World.

Ka marena ahau ki a koe: I’m going to marry you.

#karl urban #karl urban x reader #karl urban x ofc #Karl urban x you #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys tv #the boys x y/n #the boys x reader #the boys x you #billy butcher #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x ofc #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher smut

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keravnous · 1 year

Text

treat me like a s!ut ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 4 here

Tangerine comes home to you scrubbing the blood out of one of his button-downs in the bathtub. He always had a thing for seeing his favourite plaything on its knees.

word count: 9,5 k

warnings: spanking, fingering, oral (male receiving), cumshot, toys, bimbofication, housewife kink (that a thing??), mean/strict dom!tangerine (but he's actually a big softie), negotiated objectification, uh face slapping - once or twice, daddy kink, pet names, spit kink, size kink, name calling, multiple orgasms, edging, (heavy) squirting; this man is into some nasty shit - convince me otherwise, my feminism left my fucking body alright, the angry man™ makes my knees go weak

i listened to kim petras' slut pop ep and listen, it-, I-, so -, yeah. Lost control, I guess. I also saw the pictures of atj in a million little pieces and that didnt help much

thank you mel for encouraging me and thank you v for enduring me while writing this

You barely hear the door of the town house falling shut over the splashing of the water.

You are currently kneeling - very much to the protest of your upper back, which has been causing all sorts of pain during work at the office today - over the tub in your spacious bathroom, water still running into the already half-full, half-bloody bathtub. Your arms are wet up to your elbow from trying to scrub out some nasty and very resistant bloodstains out of one of Tangerine's shirts.

He had been in a nasty pub brawl after last week's West Ham victory and, knowing it was one of his favourite shirts, you had tried your best to get it clean. But even two rounds in the washing machine didn't do much. Thus, you decided to give it a good old handwash.

"Love?", you hear a familiar voice calling out and you huff with exhaustion, sinking back onto the heels of your feet.

"Yeah, I'm in the bathroom!", you answer and a moment later he appears in the opened door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

"What're ya doin' there?", Tangerine furrows his brows. He is wearing one of his suits, hair still neatly combed back like he hasn't been out for 8 hours, doing God knows what.

"Hand washing this shirt of yours, stains won't go out in the machine", you pull the fabric out of the tub, water slushing down. There's little improvement. You decide to rub a little harder.

Tangerine says nothing - just watches you, dressed in nothing but a big shirt and what he assumes are panties hiding underneath its hem; watches the way it scoots up every now and then when you scrub with more force, confirming his suspicions. It is a tiny light blue string made from fine lace, one, that he had bought for you a while ago.

He swallows, feeling himself growing hard in his slacks. It is not just the sight of you - even more so it's you doing this for him. Cleaning something up, that he had messed up.

Actually, he's thankful that you are going out of your way to clean up his clothes. He knows that it is a hell of a job to get blood out of any sort of fabric and he feels guilty for somehow putting you through it, especially since it is painfully obvious where the stains come from.

He knows it was your decision to stay - to stay with him - to keep up with the life he leads, and the job that brings in the tons of money keeping you afloat comfortably.

Still, he feels like making it up to you. There is something about you kneeling there, doing chores, that remembers him of something you had said to him a while ago. Something that now has his blood pumping, making him feel like he's about to burst.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes?", you say, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead, a few drops of water running down your cheek.

"Get up, love."

You look up, eyes furrowing with confusion. "Why? I am nearly done with -"

"Wanna properly say Hello to my little housewife, me", there is a mischievous gleam in his eyes and it has your heartbeat picking up immediately.

You know what that means. You have been speaking about this: the idea of him coming home after a long, maybe even dangerous day and just taking you, bending you over the nearest surface because it pleased him - that the thought of him treating you like nothing more but an obedient housewife, cleaning up, keeping everything tidy and clean for him, and taking his cock whenever he pleased, made you wet. That the thought of being nothing more than a stupid little hole to him excited you.

The first time this particular thing had come up, had been after Tangerine returned home late after a delayed flight. You'd been up still, cooking him dinner. What was intended as nothing but a sweet gesture of adoration - knowing that he'll be both hungry and exhausted - turned into something else, after he had grabbed your hips from behind and bent you over the countertop for a quick fuck. It made something in your brain click, a new desire taking over your fantasies.

Now, you swallow, his shirt slowly sinking back into the soapy water - with its swirls of dried and darkened blood of some poor soul who was unlucky enough to meet your man on a particularly violentday - as you get up.

"You don't have to, you had a long day", you say softly.

"It's fine, lemme do this for ya", grabbing the nearest towel you dry off your arms and hands before coming closer to him. He stretches one hand out.

"C'mere", Tangerine smiles, all bright teeth and lines around his eyes and you do - taking his hand and then he pulls you against his firm chest, your hands resting on his shoulders. You inhale deeply, taking in his scent - wood, vanilla, orange - that wraps you in like a heavy blanket and you sigh.

"Don't burn yourself out over this fuckin' shirt, dove", he mumbles into your hair, arms wrapping around you, one hand confidently grabbing your ass cheek.

"I wasn't", your nose brushes over his throat, lips peppering gentle kisses to the soft skin. His hand firmly brushes over your tense shoulders, feeling the hardened tendons and both of you know that you are lying.

"Relax, love", he whispers, lips ghosting over your ear, "Let Daddy take care of ya."

And your body obeys to him as quickly as it always does: sinks against him, muscles going a little slack. You allow yourself to surrender to him fully, body going limp and mind going blank as you hand control over to him.

Tangerine's hand brushes through your hair, cups the back of your scalp and gives you a few gentle, patronizing strokes while one of his strong arms wraps around your waist, keeps you pressed against him upright.

"Y'good, love?", he says quietly and you release a satisfied hum.

"Words, poppet, be a good girl."

"Yeah -- yeah, I'm alright, keep going", you whisper against his chest, "Please."

The hand stroking your scalp vanishes, fingers brushing over your cheek and cupping your chin until it is lifting your head up. Your eyes meet his.

"So, what did I say?", Tangerine says sternly, gaze boring into yours.

You swallow, breath hitching a little and your chest heaves with it. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, your tummy tingling with want. The hand on your cheek is warm, the cold tingle of his rings on your skin grounding you.

"What did I say?”, he says again, squinting at you. It makes your knees buckle.

"N-never scrub without a brush", you whisper, lust making you choke on your words.

"Mhm, exactly", he hums, nods, "Then, why didn't ya do it?"

"Because --", you suck in air through parted lips, thighs rubbing together, eyelids fluttering, "Because I am stupid, stupid girl."

"That you are, m'little airhead", he says softly, voice growing deep, "And what do stupid little girls get?"

"Punished", you whisper, eyes glowing with excitement and stomach tingling with it just the same. You know, that he is not really mad and it sure does feel like a lot like it, making you bite your lower lip.

Tangerine nods again, thumb caressing your cheek. "Get on the bed, get naked - ya can still do that for me, can ya, silly? Or did ya little brain already leave your pretty head, there?"

You shake your head, fingers clinging into the expensive jacket of his suit as you stand up straight again, mind already a little hazy.

"Good", Tangerine nods slowly, eyes darting down to where your bodies meet. His hand leaves your cheek and you whine but it crawls down, one long finger hooking in the collar of your shirt and pulling it down. He tilts his head a little, as he's looking at your cleavage, tits pressed up nicely by his chest. You're not wearing a bra and he smiles - cold and cruel. "Get going, love, I wanna see what's mine."

You nod, swaying a little on your feet as you take a step back, arousal pooling in your abdomen. "Don't take too long", he says, gives your ass a lazy slap as you walk past him.

You do as you're told, carelessly dropping your shirt and panties on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, before climbing onto the soft mattress. Splaying out on your stomach with your feet dangling in the air you wait for him until he finally, finally enters the bedroom. He is still wearing his suit, only dropped his jacket, and is carrying a small pink bag. You know what's inside, stomach tingling at the thought.

Tangerine tosses it onto the bed and sits down next to you, hooks his slender index finger beneath your chin, guiding your head up. His thumb brushes over your lower lip and your jaw goes slack, tongue darting out and rubbing over it. He grins and pushes the digit in, has you obediently closing your lips around it, sucking on his thumb.

His other hand wanders up to his tie, loosens it and then carelessly drops it to the floor, pops open a few buttons of his shirt.

"Stupid lil' thing, hm", he hums, "Sucking on my thumb like it's my cock? That needy already?"

You nod nod nod, blinking up at him and his other hand cups your chin, keeps your head in place. Your tongue rubs over the pad of his thumb and Tangerine licks his lips, eye twitching a little. "Listen here", he bows down a little, voice nothing but a growl, "Ya gonna take what Daddy gives ya, y'hear me? If I wanna see your little cunt cum ten times, then that's what we're gonna do, 'lright?"

You nod around his thumb, excitement fluttering in your tummy but he just tsks at you. "Thought so -", pulling his thumb from your mouth he pats his thigh, "Time for your punishment, love. Only good girls get rewarded, don't they?"

"I wanna be a good girl", you whisper, as Tangerine deliberately and carefully rolls his sleeves up. Eagerly you crawl over his lap and then sink down, upper body on the mattress, hips on his thighs with your ass in the air. You can feel his already rock-hard dick pressing into your stomach and your whole body tingles with lust at the sensation.

"You wanna be a good girl?", Tangerine says, mocking your tone, as one large ringed hand grabs your ass, kneads the flesh, "D'you know what good girls do?"

Biting your lip you shake your head, looking at him over your shoulder, through your lashes. "They don't fuck up simple tasks."

"'M sorry, Daddy", you say cutely and he fucking growls at that, a dark shadow dancing over his blue eyes, turning them navy - into a stormy sea. Tangerine's hand rubs over your ass, the other presses down between your shoulder blades. The stretch in your back is delicious, and the way it presses one side of your face into the mattress has your head swimming, eyelids fluttering. "Legs together, dove", and you obey, pressing your thighs together, "There ya go. What d'ya think? Fifteen?"

You mewl, feet kicking with excitement, wetness pooling between your legs. "Want you to say it", Tangerine's hand plays with your ass, grabs one cheek and spreads it apart, thumb digging into the flesh and kneading it, "Go ahead and tell Daddy you want him to hit ya."

"Uuh", you mumble dumbly, heart racing and pussy already wet, and he scoffs at that meanly, "Wanna - Daddy, please - want you to hit me!"

"For?"

"F-for being a stupid girl."

"Atta girl", his hand gently strokes your ass cheek, "You'll get fifteen - no whinin', no yappin'."

"Y-yes", you nod, biting your lip in anticipation, readying yourself for the first hit. And he wastes no time, gives your ass a light squeeze and then his ringed hand comes down, hits your right cheek with a loud smack. You gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the tingling burn spreading through your backside.

The second and third hit follow, making you moaning quietly - warmth spreading on your skin, the slight burn tingling.

Tangerine watches your skin slowly turning into a soft pink and grabs a handful, thumb brushing over the forming bruise. He hums quietly to himself, hand wandering down, caressing your inner thigh - his rings are cold, bracelet rustling, and shivers run down your spine.

He squeezes the flesh of your thigh, hand wandering dangerously high and you hum, but it vanishes before being close enough to your cunt. The other hand on your back adds a little more pressure, and you gasp at the stretch.

"Such a pretty girl", he hums, bounces you on his legs a little, "What a shame you're so silly."

You whimper, hands aimlessly darting over the sheets. You want him to hit you again, with your ass already feeling a little sore and the way the slight pain runs straight to your core, makes your pussy so so wet.

"Can't even clean a fuckin' shirt", he tsks just as his hand comes down once more, two quick blows on your left and right cheek, has your ass jiggling with the force of it. He watches it, then grabs a handful and feels you up.

His thumb digs into the flesh close to your crack as he toys with your ass, and you can feel the way it spreads your folds apart. Your pussy is desperate for any sort of friction and you gasp as your clit throbs, rubbing your thighs together.

"Uuh-huh", is all that leaves your mouth dumbly, with his hard cock pressing against your stomach, hot and twitching through his slacks. It's hard to think, to form a coherent thought - all that's on your mind is his thick cock. "Daddy--", you gasp, rutting your hips down on his thigh, fresh wetness running down your legs and onto his trousers.

"Stop - fuckin' - movin'", each word lands another blow and you cry out, trying your best not to move on his lap, but the sharp pain has your hips jolting upward, shoots riiight into your cunt, hole clenching.

"Oh, you're really enjoying this, aren't ya, poppet?", Tangerine scoffs as you moan, your legs falling apart a little, "I can smell how wet you are, darlin'. Lemme see."

Your fingers claw into the sheets, wanting nothing more but the smallest touch. His large hand brushes over your ass, rings cold on your hot and reddening skin and then it dips between your cheeks, brushes down your crack and between your thighs.

"Fuckin' hell", he whispers as his index finger runs through your folds. He wasn't wrong - you are incredibly wet, thick watery slick makes his finger slip over your pussy smoothly as he assesses your arousal. Easily, he slips one ringed finger into you, bottoms it out. Your cunt clenches around it and he marvels at how tight you are, a trembling moan leaving your lips. It's not enough, you want him to fuck you - hard and fast - but it has your chest fluttering nonetheless.

The finger retreats as quickly as it entered you, circles your hole and thehand on your back crawls down, gives your left cheek a light pat that has you squirming.

"Nothing but a set of pretty holes f'me, aren't ya, love?", and you mewl, feet kicking a little as his fingers continue to run through your folds, his other hand now landing another blow on your ass. It stings nicely and you moan, desperately trying to roll your hips onto the finger rubbing lazy circles over your clit.

"D'ya want Daddy to put it back inside?", and you nod nod nod, but he just laughs.

"Words, silly, good girls use their words, don'they?", and you inhale a shaky breath, before lifting your head a little, looking over your shoulder.

Tangerine looks at you, one brow smugly cocked, and it's only the slight flush of his chest visible underneath the unbuttoned collar of his shirt that betrays him. That, and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.

It makes your head swim, blinking up at him dumbly, lips falling agape a little. "Uhh", you breathe, "P-please--"

Tangerine lands another blow on your ass and you gasp loudly, followed by a desperate noise leaving your throat. "Words, slut."

You look up at him with big, watery eyes. "P-please", you say, voice shaking a little, "Finger m-me."

"There ya go", he says softly, finger abandoning your clit and pressing into your hole a moment later. He slips it in with ease, buries it deep inside of you and immediately starts to thrust it in and out.

"Yeah, wan'me to use you, eh love?", he fucks into you fast and deep, squelching sounds filling the air, "Want Daddy to stuff your pretty little hole, don't ya?"

"Y-yes", you plead, feeling his finger brushing over your walls, his golden ring against your hole. You can hear him hum and then his hand comes down for two more hits on your ass, has you clenching around his finger, moaning against the sheets.

Tangerine wastes no time, adds a second finger, stretches your tight hole out with the way he pushes them in, cold rings slipping in a little.

The sensation nearly has you going insane on the spot, rutting back on his fingers which earns you nothing more but another blow on your right cheek. "Keep on movin' and I tie you to a fuckin' chair for the rest of the day, whore", and you moan, hips stuttering and he pushes a third finger in.

Obscene squelching sounds of your hole being fucked and filled, of your slick wetting his fingers, emerge between your legs and you gasp as his digits brush over your favourite spot. Your loins ignite with it and your abdomen clenches, cunt squirting against the palm of his hand.

"Please, p-please - oh - fuck, fuck", you brabble, eyes tearing up and he tsks, shakes his head.

"Ah ah ah c'mon, words, love. Don't ya curse - you're too pretty to curse like Daddy always does, aren't ya? M'pretty lil' thing, eh?"

His hand comes down on your ass hard, has you gasping loudly, wincing in pain while his fingers continue to fuck you.

"One more, baby", and your hips buck, "Can my slut take one more?"

Tangerine's hand caresses your reddening ass, where a bruise in the form of his hand forms, an angry red and dark red where his rings hit your skin. His bracelet rustles and he grabs a handful, jiggles your left cheek. "Y-yes", you moan, his fingers rubbing your walls, making your legs tremble.

"Ready up", he says and you can hear him grin. Still, nothing can prepare you for how hard his hand comes down and how loud the blow echoes off the bedroom's walls, how the pain shoots through your ass and right between your legs, has you crying out with both: pain and pleasure.

Your walls contract around him as your lower belly contracts, squeezes his fingers and he knows what's about to happen, knows your body like his own.

"Don't you fuckin' cum, now", he says sternly, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, pushing your slick in and out in and out, and then in once more, as he nestles his fingers deeply in your tight and hot cunt halting any movement, "Be a good girl and hold it fo' Daddy."

Your muscles clench and your thighs contract, as you're giving your best to hold back your release, chest heaving as you moan into the mattress.

Tangerine leans down a little, his other hand wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Don't" - he whispers, the fingers inside of you start moving again, their pads very very slowly rubbing along your walls - "You" - his tongue darts out, licks over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling a little, "Cum now."

Your chest heaves with every ragged breath that you suck in, hips trembling and cunt squirting against his fingers, lust pulsating wildly through your loins and making your head swim as you are trying your best to just not cum. Tangerine chuckles lowly, gaze wandering over your body, taking in the way your legs tremble and feet kick - he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers and he really, really wants to get you on all fours and just bury his cock inside of you, fucking you senseless until you're a brabbling, drooling mess. His dick is so fucking hard, pressing against his slacks and it has him on the edge, the beast inside him tearing at the seams, but he knows better than to just act upon it, wants to make it better for you.

Tangerine watches the muscles is your legs and back relaxing over the passing minutes that you warm his fingers, walls and pussy growing plush and warm warm warm, as you hold him inside of you, breath slowing down a little with it, too.

"Mhm, there ya go", your hole flutters around his fingers as he pulls them out and you mewl, legs wobbly with your denied orgasm, cunt aching for just another small touch. You can feel it pulsating, your clit throbbing.

"Daddy", you whine helplessly, hips lifting a little, "N-need your cock." And he's gonna give it to you, feels like he's about to burst anyways.

"Shh shh", Tangerine coos, sticky hand rubbing over your sore ass, the slight pain igniting your lust even more, has fresh wetness pooling between your folds, "Good girls get rewarded, don'they?"

You nod frantically, thighs rubbing together. "Well," you can hear the grin forming on his face, "Get on your fuckin' knees, then."

Tangerine parts his thighs a little and you scramble from his lap hastily, sinking down between his spread legs. Your ass is sore and burns and as you sink on to your thighs you can feel the sting, eyes tearing up a little and you blink up at him - hands resting obediently on his knees.

"Look at ya", he whispers, a dark shadow dancing over his eyes, as he licks his lips.

Tangerine cups your face with both hands, carefully brushing a few loose strands from your cheeks and forehead. Your hands brush over his thighs, feeling his muscles twitch beneath the expensive fabric and then you lean in. You're all cock-drunk, needy and wanting with your cunt pulsing between your legs. Your tongue runs over the outline of his clothed dick, leaves a damp stripe behind and Tangerine groans, eyes growing even darker. "Fuckin' hell, you really need't be stuffed, huh", he watches you running your lips over his bulge and he feels like he's about to burst; creaming into his pants like he's fucking 16 and living on the streets again, watching some hooker giving a City man a gobby behind a dumpster.

"Stop it", Tangerine husks, grabs your hair, and yanks your head away, breath already a little ragged, "Fuckin' behave ya'self."

Your eyes gleam up at him and he grins, thumb brushing over your temple gently. "C'mon, get my dick out, will ya?"

You comply, fingers hastily fumbling open his belt and pulling down the zipper, opening the fly of his pants and yanking his satin boxers down.

Tangerine inhales sharply as his long and thick dick springs free against his abdomen, tip flushed pink and glistening with precum. Your mouth waters at the sight and he wants to drag it out, he really wants to, feel arousal pumping through his veins - gets high on it like only adrenaline usually does it for him.

But it's physically impossible - the way you're looking at his hard cock with watery, dopey eyes and flushes cheeks while kneeling in front of him naked has his boner fucking aching. "Fuckin' get to it already, slut."

And you do, one hand grabbing his dick at the base, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up to the tip, flicking your tongue over it and licking his precum up.

You love his cock, you really do. Nice and long and thick, cut and resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair. You love the way he fucks you with it, too, how it never misses the spot that has you seeing stars and white spots, how it feels like it has been made for your pussy and yours alone.

You love how it tastes, salty and musky, and you wrap your lips around its tip, resting it on your tongue - not sucking, not licking - just feeling and tasting his dick.

It's fucking huge anyways, looks like it too, wrapped in by your slender fingers. You close your eyes, tongue swirling around the tip before your close your lips around it, gently sucking while your hand strokes the base of his cock.

"Mh, that's how it's supposed t'be, ain't it, sugar?", he hums, hands brushing through your hair, "Me coming home to ya, my pretty little housewife, ready to please."

You hum around his cock, slowly letting him in deeper, tongue rubbing over the bottom while your lips suck. You can hear him breathe deeply and your gaze flicks up to him.

Tangerine looks down at you, eyes dark and shining with lust, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, his chest flushed. The look on his face makes you wet wet wet, wanting to please him.

You keep your eyes on him as you take more of his dick into your mouth, relaxing your jaw but still gagging a little as the tip grazes your throat. He chuckles meanly.

"C'mon love, you can do better than that, can't ya?", Tangerine fists your hair and you hallow your cheeks, your jaw going slack as you let him in further.

You want to be good for him - good girl good girl good girl - your body practically igniting with every little praise he grants you and you want to hear it again. Thus, you move your head around his cock, sucking him off, tongue rubbing over the bottom his dick.

Quickly, you are overdoing it, choking, and gagging around it, eyes tearing up as you hastily suck in a few breaths through your nose.

"Look at ya, all pretty tits and tight holes, but no fuckin' brain", Tangerine mocks, thumb stroking your cheekbone, rubbing over your temple, and then wandering through your hair, cupping the back of your head, "You look so pretty with my cock in ya mouth like that. Only thing you're good for, eh?"

He doesn't wait for you to regain your breath, rolls his hips once, holds your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth.

You relax your throat, letting him in, the tip of his cock hitting the back of it. Still sucking in air through your nose your eyelids flutter, readying yourself for what you know is about to come.

Knowing him, you're not wrong as he starts to roll his hips again and again, groaning with the sensation of his dick burying itself deep in your throat.

Tangerine watches how his cock vanishes in your mouth, bulges your throat a little and he can't hold back anymore. His hand grabs your neck, thumb pressing against your scalp and starts to fuck into your mouth. "Fuckin' hell", he huffs, your spit slicking his cock as he slips in and out of your mouth.

You moan, sending vibrations through his cock that has it twitching in your throat, making your eyes tear up, gagging a little.

Being used by him like this has your heartbeat picking up, bruises on your ass still stinging and cunt throbbing and you rub your thighs together, hands clawing into his slacks.

"Yeah, that's it -- get's you all fuckin' wet choking on my big cock like that, dunnit?", it does, has you sputtering around the thick base, spit running down your chin, wetting his trimmed pubes.

Holding your head in place Tangerine fucks into your mouth, groaning and moaning occassionally, watches your chin turning wet with spit, eyes wet with tears - your thighs rubbing together. The way he ruts into you has his bracelet and chain rustling.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ", he groans and you can feel his thighs clenching underneath your touch, the muscles underneath his waistcoat hardening and his cock twitching, pulsating on your tongue. You know he's close and you ready up for --

Suddenly, Tangerine pulls his dick from your mouth - has you gasping for air - and takes your hand, the one still firmly resting on his thigh. He holds it in his and then wraps it around his cock, your hand resting beneath his on his dick as he starts to jerk himself off with it. His hand is so much larger than yours, cold jewellery hard and heavy against your fingers, that wrap delicately around his hard cock.

"Keep your eyes open 'n look at me", he rasps, and you can feel his dick twitch in your hand as your gazes lock and then he moans, deep and feral - thick, hot ropes of white cum shoot out of his cock onto your cheeks. He strokes himself through his orgasm with your hand, sucks in a sharp breath as he paints your face white, marks you up.

Your eyelids flutter as you try your best to keep them open, his cum missing your eye by mere millimetres.

Tangerine groans as the last bit of cum lands on your face, goosebumps raising on his skin. His dick slowly goes flaccid after he sucks in a few breaths. Looking at you, he grins, licks his lips.

His free hand brushes through your hair, keeps the strands out of his cum, gently stroking your forehead. "Put m'cock away, will ya?"

You comply, kitten licks cleaning the few droplets of cum from the tip and then his hand lets go of yours, allows you to carefully put him back into his boxers, pulling the zipper back up.

Watching your blown-out dark eyes and puffy lips, he sucks in another deep breath, cheeks reddened a little and the colour spreads down down down his throat, tints his chest in a pretty pink beneath his chest hair, vanishes underneath his unbuttoned shirt. "Y'wanna cum, too, hm silly?"

And you nod, nod, nod.

"Atta girl, jus' a second - we should get ya cleaned up, shouldn't we?"

Tangerine's slender fingers run through his cum plastered on your cheek, scooping some of it up before tapping your lips. You open up obediently and he wastes no time pushing them in, feeding you his cum like it's cream. "There ya go, lick 'em clean", and you do, tongue swirling around his fingers, before he pulls them out and moves them across your face, collecting some more of his cum until he is pushing them back into your opened mouth, "Least that ya clean up well."

You can feel your cheeks turning red, the taste of them mingling with his cum and the remaining taste of sucking him off, has you moaning around his fingers. "Maybe I should fuckin' cum on everything I want'ya to tidy up? Would you like that, whore?"

Your eyelids flutter, nodding like you are fucking possessed. "Yeah, bet you love that. House would be fuckin' spotless. Bet I could fuckin' shoot a load on the floor and you'd lick it up, huh?"

You hum around his fingers and his lips tilt up. "And what would you say then, hm?", his clean fingers, sticky with your saliva, slip from your mouth.

"T-thank you for keeping me busy", you croak.

"So ya do have manners after all", he mocks, looking genuinely amused and gives your cheek a light pat, rings connecting with your sticky skin, "Alright, get back on the bed. I ain't fuckin' done wit'ya."

Tangerine gets up, grabs your hand, and helps you back on your feet, watches your naked form as you crawl onto the mattress. He is still fully dressed and your whole fucking body tingles as you catch him staring, eyes roaming over your flushed backside, your plush and aching cunt resting firmly and exposed between your thighs as you kneel on all fours before rolling on your stomach. You bite your lower lip and - deciding to make a show out of it for him, to finally, finally get what you want and need - you stretch one leg out delicately, arching your back a little.

Tangerine huffs. You look so fucked-out, used, with your swollen lips and dark, lustful eyes. Your cheeks are flushed and your hair a mess, nipples hard and cunt all puffy. But you can't help it - you feel like you're on fire, hands darting out for leverage as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him.

He kneels between your spread legs, the mattress dipping a little and his hands run over your thighs. You hum, gaze flicking over his strong arms, as one of his hands brushes higher, over your hip and waist, cups your tit and squeezes your nipple.

"Back to actin' like the whore you are, eh?", you squirm as he toys with your nipple, pleasure shooting through your body, fresh wetness pooling between your legs. His other hand brushes up your thigh and his fingers quickly dip between your legs, running through your slick. "C'mon, spread your legs f'me", following his command your knees fall to the side, giving his gaze way to your wet and aching cunt.

Tangerine licks his lips, giving your tit one last squeeze before running down your body, spreading your folds apart with both hands.

"Jesus Christ, you just have the prettiest cunt, don't ya?", Tangerine's thumbs stroke your outer labia, pulling them apart while he watches your cunt throb, hole fluttering open, wanton for his attention. "Wouldn't want to fuck another one, 's perfect."

He grabs the pink bag that had been laying discarded on the mattress and ziiips it open, reaches inside. You stomach tingles as he pulls your favourite vibrator out of it, tosses a bottle of lube onto the sheets. It is slightly curved and has just the right girth and length to be sufficient; you love to fuck yourself with it when he is away, having him cooing pretty things into your ear over the phone while he jerks himself off to your sweet sounds.

Your breath hitches and you watch his every move, cunt aching for any sort of friction and the unspoken promise of being fucked by him with the toy has you going a little dizzy. It's not quite like being fucked by his dick, but it's strong and usually leaves you with shaky legs.

Tangerine's gaze flicks over your face and a smug grin dances across his lips, one hand running over your thigh. "Y'gonna let Daddy have some fun with your cunt?", he brushes the toy over your sensitive clit and the cool silicone has your hips bucking immediately, "Wanna see ya come, such a pretty thing." You roll your hips onto the cold and quickly dampening toy, the friction being nice enough to make you moan quietly.

"P-please", you whisper, "T-turn it on."

Tangerine lifts an eyebrow. "You gotta speak up, whore, don't act like you still got cock in ya mouth."

His command has you blushing, eyelids fluttering. "C-can you", you swallow, speaking up a little, voice shaky, "Can you please turn it on?"

He scoffs, one hand grabbing your thigh. "Oh, of course. Why didn't you say that earlier, hm?"

And then, his thumb presses down onto the little button, has the vibrator coming to life in an instant, presses the tip down on your clit.

"Oh my god", you gasp, throwing your head back, hands grabbing the sheets. "Jus' me, love", he grins, licks his lips and presses the toy flatly onto your cunt. The vibrations are running through your abdomen, and you moan lewdly, grinding against it.

Your cunt pulsates and your clit throbs against it, mouth falling agape - moaning and panting in rhythm with your hips rolling onto the toy.

"Look at my silly little whore", he grabs your chin roughly, his gaze boring into yours as you look at him heavy-lidded, mouth slightly agape. Tangerine runs the vibrator through your folds and you arch your back into it. Squeezing some lube onto your cunt he is running the toy through it, until he decides it's slick enough and pushes it into your hole with one rough, quick stroke. Your hips buck with the sudden intrusion, the way you can feel it vibrating inside of you has you moaning, throwing your head back.

Tangerine gives you no time to assess to the feeling as he starts to immediately fuck you with it fast, obscene sounds filling the air as he pushes the toy in and out of you.

You gasp loudly, closing your eyes and fisting the sheets below you. Incoherent, dumb little sounds escape your throat as you moan and gasp, lips parted a little. The stimulation quickly becomes a lot, nearly too much, has your head falling to the side and eyes darting open, watching how his hand shoves the toy in and out of you. It's also not enough, had your stomach tingling and loins feeling they are on fucking fire, a strong pulling sensation in your lower belly that makes you feel like you might go insane.

"Daddy", you plead uselessly, clenching around the toy, "'S not enough."

"Ah, you poor thing - too bad", Tangerine tilts his head a little, smiles at you meanly, "You'll take it."

His hand abandons your chin and runs over your chest, roughly cupping your tit and giving a light slap before running back up up up, over your throat and then grabbing your chin again. Your gazes meet and something dances over his, dark and dangerous and you know that he is holding back just a little. And you know, that you don't want him to. Do it you mouth and his eyes fall shut for a split second, before opening up again, dark navy hazy with lust.

Your brain goes all foggy and swims with anticipation, as his hand vanishes. It comes back down on your cheek with a loud smack, throws your head to the side.

You moan like you are some cheap whore out of some fucking porno - high-pitched and loud -, throwing your head back with your hands grabbing the sheets hard as your body rocks down on the vibrator.

Tangerine scoffs at you - watches the way your slick mixes with the lube and spreads around the pink shaft - makes his fingers all sticky with it - shakes his head a little. "Needy fuckin' thing."

It's all too much and your legs fall shut, knees pressing together as your body tries both: to flee the immense stimulation and to embrace it, drown itself in it. But Tangerine is having none of it, grabs your knee forcefully and spreads your legs back apart, grabs your thigh and holds it down onto the matress. You whine, chest heaving and body shaking, has your tits bounce with it - his eyes follow the movement hungrily.

"'S too much", you whine, throwing your head to the side, eyes falling shut. You feel like you're on fire, toes curling and eyes rolling back, your cunt all plush and plump and throbbing and so so ready to fucking cum already but you just can't, it's just not enough.

"You'll take what I fuckin' give ya", and your whole body rocks with it, the pent-up pleasure running rampant through your body and you pull one knee up, angling your leg, feeling the toy gliding in deeper. You moan desperately, eyes watching how it drills into you, hips and legs starting to shake.

Tangerine grins at you, tilts his head a little. "Oh", he pouts at you playfully, cocks an eyebrow while his eyes gleam down at you, "Does she wanna come? Does she, yeah?"

His tongue kisses his teeth as his thumb flicks over the button on the vibrator. The sudden increase of the vibration has you gasping loudly, a very vocal Oh leaving your lips, followed by a high-pitched moan. One of your hands darts out and grabs the pillow above your head, giving you some more leverage to thrust down onto the toy.

You can feel the vibration of the toy pulsing through your whole lower body and it has you gasping with it.

"Yeah, that's it, innit?", his thumb presses down on your clit, rubs small circles and it has you coming loose, finally, a near scream ripping from your throat, shaking, and rocking onto his thumb and the vibrator. You squirt, wetting his arms and wrists, jewellery shining with your juices and the sheets get sticky and wet with it. Tangerine whistles lowly, watches how you come undone in front of him - tits bouncing and cheeks flushed - moaning and gasping, the ecstasy has your face in a near angelic expression.

And it gets him so fucking hard.

He knows that you will be ready for him again in no time, edging you leaves you wet and horny even after an orgasm and he just has to feel you now.

Tossing the toy onto the mattress, he runs a finger through your hot and sticks folds, has you whining and squirming. He feels you up, asses your slick and teases your hole for a short while, until sweet sweet moans replace your whining, until he can feel your clit throbbing beneath his finger.

"C'mon", Tangerine unbuckles his belt, "My stupid little whore has another one in her, don't she? One more f'Daddy?"

You whine, knees falling apart like you are his personal fucking sex doll, hole clenching around nothing. Your hands run over your tits, squeezing them while you watch him getting undressed - shredding the waistcoat first, followed by his tie and shirt and then his pants - one of them wanders down down down your body, lazily circles your clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hard dick that springs free as he tosses his boxers away, curving against his abdomen, the taste of it still on your tongue and your head swims with it.

"Don't ya fuckin' touch yourself", he swats your hand away and leans in, spits onto your hot and plush cunt, thumb immediately rubbing over your sensitive clit. Your legs shake, hips bucking and it takes only a few strokes of his finger for you to squirt again, adding fresh wetness to the sticky sheets below you. "No one touches you like I do, eh?", and you shake your head, eyes tearing up a little with lust, "Mh, thought so - not even yourself. Always need me to get ya off nice and proper, don't ya?"

He's right. Whenever he is gone and allows you to touch yourself over the phone you do come, but it's nowhere as good, toe-curling and le-shaking as it is when his tongue and fingers are on your cunt, dick buried deep deep inside of you. And thus, you nod -Yes yes yes escaping your lips like a chant.

He is so much taller, so much stronger than you - could snap your neck in a blink of an eye, rip your throat out with bare hands - and it has your head swimming while you watch him stroking himself, tip of his hard dick flushed pink and your brain practically shuts down fully at the sight. It tips you over, has your mind enter a foggy state and limbs going slack as subspace embraces you.

"You like that? You like being my slut, don't ya?"

"Y-yes, Daddy -- l-love it", you moan sweetly and then he looks up at you, lips curling into a crude smile.

Stretching his hand out towards you, he tilts his head a little. "Spit then, slut", and you do, leaning forward and spitting into his hand. Some of your saliva runs down your chin and he scoffs at that, wets his dick with your spit. You watch how he spreads your saliva around the flushed skin and your lips fall agape, a soft moan crawling from your throat. Your legs spread further, hands running over your thighs - up up up - spreading the lips of your cunt apart.

His gaze flicks up, watches how you expose yourself to him, practically offering him your hole, stretching it out for him. "Jesus Christ", he huffs, feels his heartbeat picking up and then he grabs your ankle forcefully, pulls you closer. You barely have any time processing him manhandling you as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushes in with one strong stroke, buries himself fully in your pussy.

He grabs your hands and pulls them away from your folds, carelessly drops them at the sides of you body, holds your hips up by your waist - watches the way you split on his dick while you gasp and pant.

His cock is so much bigger than the toy, longer and thicker and you gasp as he pushes in. The way your hole stretches around him is delicious, slight pain igniting your loins. No matter how often you take his dick, you are never fully used to it - the dull pain increased by a tenfold with your overstimulated and plush cunt, welcoming his cock home. "Ssh, there ya go, take it all", Tangerine coos, and you moan as his cock pushes in all the way, rests between your walls, hot and pulsating.

"Such a tight fuckin' cunt", he hisses, as you squeeze around him, while he starts to move slowly inside of you. Tangerine watches your lower belly bulging a little with his large cock, sees where it is fucking into you through your skin. One of his hands hooks around your knee, lifts your leg up a little, the other one gently caresses the small bulge in your lower stomach, feels himself beneath your skin.

Tangerine starts to roll his hips faster, angles his thrusts deeper as he looks at you, brows furrowed a little, hand cupping your lower stomach. You whine and mewl with the agonizingly slow way he pushes his cock into you, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches your face slowly coming apart, eyelids fluttering while you watch him fucking into you.

"You feel so fuckin' good, takin' me so well, eh", Tangerine's thrusts speed up, and your body slightly rocks with it, your hips meeting his. Your head falls to the side and you loose yourself into the way he fucks you - losing all track of time, your body going a little numb, feeling nothing more than his cock inside of you, his hands on your body.

"You fucking slut - fuckin' made to only please me", and you hum, a little drool gathering in the corner of your mouth, slooowly creeping out and dropping onto the mattress. Tangerine's gaze follows it hungrily and his eyelids flutter, while you look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Shit", he huffs, hips bucking into your hole wildly, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into them hard.

You are so fucking pretty to him, all fucked-out with your body obedient to him and your mind buried deep deep in subspace and a part of him wishes you'd never come back - staying in this blissful and stupid state, chasing nothing but pleasure and waiting for him at home, on your knees and offering your waiting holes to him.

And Tangerine can't stop his mind from going there, conjuring up the delicious image of you bend over the kitchen table in nothing but a tiny apron, cunt stuffed with some fucking toy, waiting for him to come home and take you. And that's what he'd do, drenched and dripping in blood, would leave red stains all over your soft skin when he grabs you, pushes his dick into your hot cunt.

It makes him moan, head falling forward a little, a few strands of hair coming loose. He has to hear you say it, feels his balls tensing at the thought. His eyes dart up at you through hooded eyes and dark lashes.

"Who d'ya fuckin' belong to?", he growls.

"'M all yours, fuck fuck fuck", sweet sweet moans fall from your lips and it has him going fucking feral. Tangerine moans deep in his throat, wraps one arm around your waist and with all his strength pulls you up, rests you on his muscular thighs. His shins are resting on the mattress as he hammers you down onto his dick and it has you seeing stars, the way his body presses against you, cock pushing into your hole deeper and deeper.

Desperate for any sort of leverage your arms wrap around his neck, fingers clawing at his shoulders while you turn into puddy in his arms, as he lifts your hips up and bounces you on his dick, manhandles you while you fuck yourself with it. Your tits bounce against his firm and sweaty chest, his breath tingles on your throat.

"There ya go", he grunts as you roll your hips, toes curling with the way the thick head of his dick brushes over the spot that has you seeing stars. You moan and gasp, head falling back as you rock onto him, chasing your release.

"D-daddy", you pant, breath hitching in your throat, blinking away the tears forming in your eyes. It's all too much but not enough and you need him to say it - need him to tell you that it's alright, that you're allowed to come. "'M gonna cum, p-please, I-I -- y-you", you whine incoherently, looking down and watching how his cock drills into you, your juices wetting his pubes and abdomen, running down your thighs, sounds of naked skin slapping onto each other filling the air.

There's a heavy pull in your loins and you gasp loudly, sweetly, hips stuttering.

Small tears of pent-up arousal run down your cheeks and he cups your face with one hand, leans in and licks them away, tongue gliding over your cheeks. "Shh shh", he murmurs, his dark blue eyes prettily framed by long lashes as they transfix your fucked-out gaze, "I'll let ya cum, love - whenever ya want, jus' let go."

"C-can't", you stutter, goosebumps on your skin as you gasp, fingers entangling his dark locks that curl right above his shoulders and pulling on them lightly. And that, that gets him fucking going.

Tangerine moans loudly, his cock twitching deep inside of you. He grabs your chin roughly, holds your head in place. "You fuckin' slut", he growls and you can't help but to tug again, completely out of it and unaware that it might have consequences for you - you just need to feel his cock twitch inside of you again.

It does, has you moaning, lips falling agape. "Fuckin' behave", he growls and then, in a blink of an eye, his hand leaves your chin and connects with your cheek with a loud smack, throwing your head to the side. It tips you over.

You squirt heavily around his cock as you cum, milking him, while rocking down on it and spreading your slick, making it shoot up and wet his abdomen, skin glistening with it. His trimmed pubic hair rubs your overstimulated clit and you release more wetness, obscene squelching sounds filling the air.

Tangerine's cock pulses inside of you as he comes, too, shoots thick ropes of hot cum into your cunt that seem endless while filling you up. You squeeze around him and you feel so so full, his cum already pooling at the base of his dick, pushing out of you, and mingling with your creamy release.

He roughly pushes you back onto the mattress, hands grabbing your knees and then he is rutting into you with near inhuman strength, fucking both of you through your cojoined orgasms. Tangerine's cum squelches in and out of you and you cry out as waves of pleasure roll through your body, makes your limbs tremble and squirt shooting against his dick, wetting his pubic hair and abdomen like you're a broken hose. You can feel it run down your legs, dripping down onto the sheets.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you cry out, shaking wildly and then everything goes white - your own body feeling far far away. Your limbs feel so so heavy but you also feel light, like flying, not a single thought remaining as you feel your orgasm running through your veins, making you shake with it.

It takes a while for your body to snap back out of it, slowly drifting back into reality. The first thing you feel, is a warm body pressing against your back.

"Are y'lright, love?", Tangerine whispers, strong hands running over your arms, your sides, your hip. Your body feels so, so heavy as your mind is slowly coming back.

"Yeah", you croak, throat sore and voice raspy.

"Don't ya move, dove - I'll get ya cleaned up", you turn your head and blink at him, still a little out of it and he smiles at you, presses a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead, his stache tingling a little, "You did so good for me, didn't ya? 'M so proud of ya."

You nod lazily, your hand brushing over his strong forearm. "Thank you, babe", you whisper quietly, all worn out and tired, "I really needed that."

"Mh, you're welcome, love."

***

It's the faint smell of coffee in the air that carefully tickles you awake the next morning. Outside the opened window birds are chirping.

The first thing you notice is, that your legs hurt. The second thing is, that the other side of the bed is empty.

You call out your lover's name, his actual, real name but there's no answer. Groaning, you get up, legs heavy and sore from last night, and walk out of the bedroom. You can hear water running and follow the noise.

"Babe?", you peek through the half-opened door of the bathroom. There he is - in all his glory, with no shirt on - freckles dusted over his back like stars, scars and tattoos on full display, a cigarette dangling from his mouth while he is hunched over the sink. His hair curls over his shoulders, a little damp from what you assume must have been a recent shower. The air is still a little damp, despite the opened window. You can hear water splashing.

"Mornin'", Tangerine says, puffs out a cloud of smoke.

"No smoking indoors", you sigh, suppressing a yawn and he chuckles at that, deep in his throat.

"'M sorry, love, won't happen again."

"We both know it will", your hands brush over his shoulders and then you lean against him. You inhale his scent, feel his warmth against your palms. The muscles in his back and shoulder are working, flexing beneath the skin and you close your eyes, feeling the way his body works beneath you. He is oddly alive like this and you hope that he'll be home for a long time, won't leave again soon.

"Why are you up already?", you mumble against his firm back.

"Wanted to wash the stains out", and he sounds so, so annoyed by it, "But it's no use - it's either gonna be the dry-cleaner's or the bin, innit?"

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #smut #tangerine bullet train #tangerine imagine #my writing #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you

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justporo · 1 year

Text

Scenes from a bathtub

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 1

Author's Note: Here we are, I'm so excited to share the first chapter for this story. The part in which Tav and Astarion start getting ready, enjoying a nice soak in the tub - and some other stuff. Let me know what you think!

Song: Royals - Lorde

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: Some light smut at the very end of the chapter

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

A few weeks had passed. The night of the ball had finally arrived.

Astarion had actually been excited ever since the invitation had been delivered. He really seemed eager to make it a night to remember for the both of you: so you had actually spent some more evenings waltzing around your space (also trying other dances) and Astarion had very cryptically promised you he’d take care of ‘wardrobe and grooming’. You dearly hoped he’d remember his promise about corsets and wouldn’t turn you into someone you wouldn’t recognise if you passed by a mirror.

It was still hours from then until the event started but Astarion had insisted on starting to get ready. You had looked at the clock and back to the vampire and back at the clock. Had it been only you, you’d probably only have run a bath half an hour before, then quickly dressed and done some basic makeup before arriving a little late. But as you told Astarion that he’d cocked an eyebrow and looked you up and down in such a judgmental way you’d first felt like a young girl getting scolded. And when he hadn’t stopped you’d gotten pissed at his pretentious behaviour. “My sweet sweet love, if you can’t even stand passive-aggressive stares for more than a few moments it’s going to be a very short evening. These people live off judging others and elevating their pitiful selves over you. And the trick is to just always be twice the bastard they are.” “Great, sounds like such a fun evening, Astarion.”

You had crossed your arms over your chest and had felt anxiety creeping up inside you. Already you had worried that you’d be awfully out of place at this event. But Astarion had grabbed your hands that you had firmly tugged away under your arms and placed them on your cheeks, covering yours with his own long fingers. “Don’t worry, my love, you’re fortunate enough to have a master of the art at your side to show you how it’s done”, he had said with a big smirk and given you a quick kiss. “And if that still doesn’t help just step on someone’s skirts or elbow them so they splash their drinks on somebody around and watch the chaos unfold. You wouldn’t believe how quickly these elitist people get physical if they feel their ‘honour’” – he dramatically air-quoted and rolled his eyes – “is at stake”, he had continued with an even bigger almost feral smirk when he’d noticed you were still tense. This – a good old brawl? You had seen and partaken in a fair share of those in your time as a Baldur’s Gate lowlife. You slowly had grinned back at your soulmate then: “No promises, I won’t do that anyway if these rich fuckers annoy me too much.” Astarion had thrown his head back and laughed: “Oh my lovely little anarchist.”

So now you were sitting in your big tub that was lowered in the stone floor of your bathroom.

The two of you loved spending almost whole nights just enjoying the warmth and comfort of a hot bath – talking, drinking wine, taking in the scents of exotic oils Astarion picked up from specialty stores, caressing and massaging each other; often times resulting in more passionate actions. This time the vampire had brought some ‘special’ stuff to really doll yourselves up for this big ball.

Currently, Astarion was sitting in between your legs, leaning back against your naked chest while you washed and detangled his curls and just enjoyed your care while breathing softly. Before, he had put some mud all over his face he claimed would “make his complexion glow even more”. The stuff indeed smelled nicely as it drifted into your nose while you massaged Astarion’s scalp carefully, but he still looked kind of ridiculous. Also you weren’t entirely convinced that this was how it worked for vampires.

Seldomly was the pale elf this relaxed. And this fact alone filled your heart with joy. You let your fingers move through his hair and softly massaged his neck and his ears as well which resulted in a soft, relaxed moan from him from time to time.

Astarion’s chest lifted in a particular deep breath, causing droplets of bathwater to run down his toned chest and the light from the candles you’d lit all over the room danced over his smooth skin. He really almost caused you to forget to breathe sometimes just by existing.

“This is heaven, my love. If this is what the afterlife is like I’ll happily perish right on the spot”, he sighed and let out a long breath. You smiled happily and really buried your fingertips in his curls once more causing the vampire to groan in pleasure and making his head loll from side to side.

With his eyes still closed he reached one arm slowly behind himself – obviously with the intention to reach your face. “Only thing missing now is a kiss from you, my sweet honey pie.”

“Sweet honey pie? What’s gotten into you?”

“Hmhm, can you blame me? Your fingers caressed me into oblivion, cherry muffin.” You scrunched up your nose and pinched the back of his neck. It seemed you really had worked common sense out of the man; he was talking mad.

“You know the implication it makes when you call me food related pet names, don’t you?”, you asked him, leaning close to one of his pointy ears. “Oh, very much so, even though I must inform you, that you taste neither off honey pie nor cherry muffins.”

Astarion started to stretch while speaking, tensing his muscles, reaching his arms even beyond you and yawning. The comparison to a cat was more than imminent. On their way back his hands found your head and stroked your hair despite the awkward angle.

“Aha, so what do I taste like to you, hm? Indulge me”, you requested and wrapped your arms around Astarion’s chest as he sidled up against you again. Your hands rested on each other on his stomach now, you leaned your chin on his shoulder. His arms were still stretched around his back to let his fingers wander through your hair.

“Well, when I first compared it to a good wine that was a very accurate description. But now, with some more, shall I say, expertise in your bouquet, I’d describe it like this: sometimes it’s like a wonderful red wine, full-bodied but with soft floral notes. But sometimes it’s more like delicious fruit covered in dark chocolate. It just… varies slightly: depending on what you eat, how you’ve been feeling, what time of month it is…” The last part surprised you: “You can taste… my cycle?” “Oh, not only that, but I can also smell it as well – I mean besides the obvious. You’d be surprised at what I can find out about you from taking a single nose full of your exquisite scent alone, my love.” You felt dumbfounded, he’d never mentioned that before. And you also didn’t need to see the smirk when he said that to know that it was there.

“Like?”, you simply asked, a bit embarrassed but also very much intrigued about this particular skill of his. Astarion didn’t like talking about the specifics of his condition very much so whenever he opened up about it you grasped the opportunity to learn more about it and him.

“Oh, for example, I can definitely always tell when you want me. And, if I dare say so, the intensity and frequency surprised even me, my wicked little siren”, Astarion explained, his tone deep and full of seduction. Your cheeks were burning, your whole neck and face actually. You softly slid down Astarion’s back and into the bathwater, desperately hoping for a sudden hole at the bottom of the tub that would hopefully swallow you whole.

The vampire had to grip the rim of the tub and straighten himself when you slithered down into the depths of the bathwater. You heard him laugh: “I can also most certainly tell whenever you get one of those full body blushes, my sweet.” He slowly moved to turn around to you, while you had sunk into the water, only your eyes and the top of your head still showing above the water level. Bubbles rose up while the last of your air left your nose and you looked at the vampire in embarrassment who simply looked back at you with a smile – face still covered in mud and only his red eyes contrasting with it; what a ridiculous scene.

Astarion softly grabbed you by the shoulders to prevent you from your attempt to drown yourself. You could see his signature smirk on his face. “Now, now, no need to feel ashamed, my lecherous little nymph. I couldn’t blame you, could I?” His grin split his face and his teeth glinted at you – most prominently his fangs. “Also, I can assure you that the feeling is very much mutual, beautiful. Now give me a kiss!”, he demanded while he had dragged you up from the water successfully.

With his hands still on your shoulders he pulled you towards him, lips already pursed in expectation.

“Not while you have dirt on your face”, you replied in disgust and placed your flat hand against his face to hold him off.

“It’s not dirt!”, Astarion exclaimed, voice rising in annoyance and grabbed your hand from his face. You still looked at him in disgust. “Ugh, fine!” He rolled his eyes and splashed water on his face and rubbed himself clean with his hands.

“Better?”, he asked after a few moments, tone still a bit annoyed. “No wait, there’s still a little bit”, you said and leaned close to him as if wanting to clean a speckle off his perfect face, brows furrowed in concentration. But with a lightning quick move you pinched his nose, making him growl back at you. He grabbed you by the shoulders once more and pulled you close until you were nose to nose while he stared angrily at you. “No poking the vampire!”, he said sombrely. “Or I’ll eat you!”

You giggled and closed the last bit of space to finally kiss him. And that seemed to calm down the beast. Letting go of your shoulders, one of his hands wandered to the front of your neck, softly resting on your collarbone. The other cupped your cheek while his tongue entered your mouth – tasting you, tangling with yours, exploring. Then he broke the kiss, leaving you to gasp, and trailing little pecks from the corner of your mouth over your cheek up to your ear.

You softly arched yourself to him, offering up your neck. “If you want to find out if today’s more of a wine or chocolate day.” The vampire laughed. Promise rang in it. “Deeply appreciated, my sweet, but maybe later. Can’t have you running around tonight with two fresh puncture wounds on your neck, can we?”, he whispered and let his lips wander lightly over your quickening pulse. His hand on your neck applying just the tiniest bit of pressure on your throat.

You could only gulp. “Also, I fear that if I would get lost in your neck now, we are never making it to this event”, Astarion added while lifting his face from your neck. Ah yes, you’d almost forgotten.

The pale elf smirked again at you: “And we still have some work to do on you, my sweet.” “Excuse you?” Whatever had heated your blood was immediately gone – this prick.

“You heard me, now turn around and let me take care of you in return, my love”, he insisted. You sighed and complied because you knew there was no point in denying him. And also, you wouldn’t say no to getting pampered by your vampire.

You let yourself be seated in the same position Astarion had been in at first: between his legs, your back to his chest. He put some of the goo on your face despite your protest (“It’s only going to bring out your beauty some more, my love.” “This face is as good as it gets as is, Astarion, no need to try.” “Hush and shut your nasty mouth or I can’t promise to keep the dirt out of it!”). Then he softly scrubbed you all clean and massaged your whole body, pouring some heavenly smelling oils in his hands from time to time.

The night before he had gone out to run some errands – and returned with bags and bags of stuff. It had been clothes and apparently lots of toiletry. One of the things had been large and very heavy. But about that and some other stuff he’d brought he had wiggled his finger at you to not take a peek.

Everything for your bath time he had neatly lined up next to the tub. You barely had a clue what all the small jars, flasks and crucibles were for but if it made him happy to indulge in it you were the last person to stop him from it.

Then he’d carefully run the bath you were now sitting in. And you couldn’t complain: the bath water smelled heavenly of lavender and cedar. Whatever he was massaging you with smelled of oranges and other delicious fruits and he himself deliciously of bergamot.

You sighed deeply and were aware that you must’ve been the perfect mirror image of what Astarion had looked like some minutes ago.

“Enjoying yourself, my love?”, Astarion asked gently while his hands worked your neck. You only hummed in response. “We should do this more often, darling. You’re allowed to indulge in luxury sometimes, you know?”, he said softly while starting to work on your hair.

“Speaking of – mind telling me how much exactly everything was you brought home yesterday?”, you asked while letting your head fall back into his touch, eyes closed. “Yes, I do mind. Part of indulgence is not looking at the price tag, my sweet”, Astarion scolded you sweetly. “And you deserve to take better care of yourself”, he continued while trying to get out a serious knot from your braids.

You felt your body tense a little and sighed: “You know I’m not good with either of those things, Astarion.” “I know”, he replied simply and shortly lifted one of your hands out of the water to press a kiss to it. “That’s why I’m going to teach you. I’ll have you be a high-maintenance lady ready to splurge at every opportunity in no time, dearest.” You laughed and readjusted your sitting position to lean back against the elf’s chest more. “I don’t think that would be a good look on me.” Astarion sighed dramatically: “Oh well, a shame. I guess I’m going to have to fill this role then.” You softly chuckled at that and thought to yourself that he was already well en route for that.

“I guess I could take up some of your suggestions though – I’m tired of feeling like a gutter rat standing next to you in all your luscious, white-curly glory.” Astarion snickered: “I’ll have you remember you chose the description ‘gutter rat’ for yourself. Also, I think you’re the most beautiful creature the Gods have ever created but to each their own I guess.” You blushed again and sank down a little further between his legs while he grabbed another one of the flasks.

Sometimes he just made you so casually swoon you couldn’t believe it – and never did you know how to reply to his genuine and sweet flattery.

“So, lesson one: you have really beautiful hair, my love, and I know you love your braids, but it all turns into a tangled mess easily. But fortunately,” – he poured something from the flask onto your prepared and detangled hair; it smelled deliciously flowery – “some clever soul came up with conditioner. You use it after you’ve washed your hair. Use only a little and work it into your hair like this.” He worked the thick liquid specifically into the lengths of your hair, combing through them with his fingers and then softly scrunching the strands in his hands. “Then you let it sit a little and only then rinse it out. It helps with tangles and also will make your hair deliciously soft.” Astarion basically purred the last words. Oh, good thing to know this was something he delighted in.

He did as he had instructed you while you patiently sat there and let him work his magic. Afterwards he proceeded to comb your hair through.

You both sat in silence. You enjoyed being taken care of and thought of the evening to come. You couldn’t help but feel some anxiety again creep into you at the thought of having to deal with the society of the Upper City. You’d probably take a good old-fashioned tavern brawl or a heist every day over having to make small talk with people who’d probably also choose the description “gutter rat” for you.

“Now”, Astarion said after a while “for tonight’s event I would like to propose to you to put your hair in some waves. Nothing major, just pinning them, letting them dry and then putting some strands up later.”

You were still way inside your head to fully understand what he was getting up: “Oh uhm, go ahead. Just don’t make me look like a coiffed poodle please.” Astarion scoffed at that and started to pin your hair up carefully.

“What’s troubling you, my love?”, he asked casually because of course he had noticed how you were absent-minded and your body had tensed. By what he had earlier revealed he’d probably smelled it too.

For a second you wondered if you ever could hide something from this man. But then again – why would you have to?

You sighed deeply while you grabbed your one hand with the other and started to press your thumb into the palm of the other – a nervous habit. “I guess, I’m still a bit scared of how the evening will play out”, you confessed and let your head fall down. Astarion wasn’t having it: “Ah ah, my sweet, head up or I can’t work. But also, head up because you don’t need to be worried. If push comes to shove, we can always leave.” You sighed again and relaxed a little. You shortly lifted your hand to grab one of his to squeeze it in thanks.

“Aren’t you scared at all? I mean, like of meeting someone… from before… or from before before?”, you asked silently and looked down at your hands still kneading each other in the water.

The vampire didn’t respond immediately. “You don’t have to answer-“, you started but then Astarion replied. “Not really. Cazador sometimes had us spawn ‘entertain’ his guests during his events but seeing as he either altered their memory or killed them off in the end… No one will recognise me albeit I may know some of the attending guests”, he explained pretty matter-of-fact while his hands kept working on putting up strand for strand of your hair.

Another silence followed.

“As from before that…” Astarion’s words trailed off. You grabbed his hand once more and almost already wanted to say again that he didn’t have to tell you but you kind of felt he wanted to let it out. “I haven’t seen or heard a shred from anyone I knew or was related to since I’ve been turned. Never. And my surname is pretty common among elves – there probably are at least five other Lord Ancuníns running about the city. I guess we might meet our lovely elder neighbour and that’s about it.”

His hands had stopped their task. Your hand was still grabbing one of his and you squeezed it again to try and provide some comfort. “I’m sorry, Astarion”, you whispered quietly and leaned your head back. It connected with his forehead as he leaned forward a little.

“Don’t be”, he whispered back while his fingers started to move again. “You’re my family now”, he said and at that your heart swelled with warmth and love.

“I love you, Astarion.” “Love you too, my little gutter rat.”

You tried to splash him with water.

How could he go from genuine, sincere and melancholy to unbelievable bastard in point two seconds. He was a handful at the best of times.

The vampire just laughed at your petty attempt of getting back at him. Shortly after he proclaimed being done with his work.

“There you go, now wash off your face, my dear”, he instructed. You did as told, then turned around to him: “Are we done now? I feel like I might’ve already grown some fins!”

Astarion smirked at you. “Oh no, there’s one more thing we need to take care of, my sweet”, he said slowly and threw you a glance that immediately made your blood boil. “And what might that be?”, you asked, already barely trusting your mouth to form words with the way he kept staring at you with his crimson gaze.

“Well, I can’t let you go to this event all tense and anxious, can I?”, he asked and moved closer to you, his gaze almost predatory. You gulped and moved back until your back hit the rim of the tub and there was no more space to escape from the prowling vampire. You felt heat form inside of you.

He moved in even closer, putting his arms around you as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“Luckily, I know just the right treatment for this kind of ailment”, he whispered and let his lips wander to your neck where your pulse had started hammering. He grabbed you then and lifted you up, so you sat on the floor just in front of the tub that was lowered into the ground. “That’s lesson two my love: always grasp onto the pleasures life offers you”, he whispered sinfully as he moved your legs, so your thighs were placed on his shoulders. You were already shuddering in expectation. You let one of your hands enter his soft curls as he made you lean back.

Astarion lowered his mouth to the space between your legs, letting his devilish silver tongue work its magic and devoured you as if you were a feast and he a starved man.

When lightning had struck the first time with your back arched impossibly at the way he had made you feel and your hand buried in his curls, he rose out of the tub. You watched him as trails of water ran down his perfect body, already yearning for more. To feel him, to love him.

You looked at him expectantly, seeing the love and the desire you felt mirrored in his ruby eyes. He lowered himself onto you on the edge of the tub, moving you back a little and made sure the second lightning struck both of you.

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies

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random-fandom1984 · 3 months

Note

Hello! If it's okay to request Can you do the reactions/interactions of TF earthspark to a pod full of sparkling beans?

thank you!

Okay, let's do this!

(I also made a little headcannon about Elita-1, and it's been a while since I started watching the series so I don't know if it would seem like she would do that. I'm not doing the Terrans because I don't have the mental will to do them. And I'm only going to be doing ones that I can actually think of.)

Autobots:

Elita-1, Optimus and Megatron

I feel like if these three were put in charge of taking care of a rouge sparkling found in the woods, they would all co-parent. Elita is the mom, Optimus is the dad, and Megatron is the papa.

Optimus would obviously teach the little one what's right and wrong and would give them a light scolding if they did something bad. I mean, it's a sparkling, they have no awareness of what they're doing.

Elita-1 would teach the little one to fight in self-defense, and somehow actually works? Like, if one of Mandroid's bots tried to take the sparkling, the little one would body slam, the elbow, and all types of wrestling moves. Meanwhile, Optimus and Elita are in the corner, watching this go down. He turns to her and asks, "Did you have them watch W.W.E.?" Meanwhile, Elita just has a proud, smug smile, hands on her hip plates, proud of the little one.

And Megatron would teach the little one about morals and ideals. Considering that he was a warlord that hurt and killed many innocent lives, who is now a better person; he has experience going down a dark road and doesn't want them to come across it and go down that same path that will on bring pain and misery to not just everyone around them, but also themselves once they've acknowledged what they've done.

Bumblebee

Sorry, excuse me, older brother coming through-

He's a good older brother figure and is not afraid to admit it! He does gets annoyed when the Terrans, Mo, and Robby tease him for it.

He's very excited about what their alt-mode's gonna be. Maybe an ice cream truck!

When he sees the sparkling somehow fighting, he's kinda surprised before he recognizes those moves and his face turns into a -_- and asks, "Elita let them watch the W.W.E. again?"

Arcee

Cool aunt, all the way.

Will spoil the sparkling and teach the little one some moves other than the ones in the W.W.E. that Elita-1 let them watch. They need to learn real moves, such as martial arts!

She finds it cute how the little one wouldn't cry when they fall to the ground, but instead stubbornly get back up with some cute honks with a determined face, causing her to cover her smile and hold back laughing at how cute this is.

Will visit the Malto's frequently just for the little one.

Grimlock

I see him as the wise uncle.

He always gives out words of advice and they work, for example, Jawbreaker.

He'll be gentle with the little one but would be aggressive to those who intend to harm or use the sparkling for evil and/or greedy purposes. He does not want them to go through what he went through in the Bot Brawl in Philidelphia.

Doesn't really care about the sparkling biting him, he just sees it as the little one letting out their inner Dinobot, and it's not like it'll hurt him; he can barely feel it.

Wheeljack

The fresh-out-of-jail uncle because of his experiments.

I can see him more like his G1 version around the sparkling. So, if he's doing an experiment and the little one is around, make sure someone will nab the sparkling before it explodes in Wheeljack's face.

Had the things on the side of his head glow every time he speaks because the sparkling enjoys it.

Unknowingly a bad influence with the amount of times they watched him perform experiments only for them to blow up.

Decepticons

Soundwave

New sparkling acquired. Kids, you now have a younger-

Feels like this is a blessing from Primus because of what happened to Rumble. Because of that, he's overprotective of the sparkling, and so are the other Minicons: Frenzy, Laserbeak, Ravage.

He now has something to fill in the part of his spark that died with Rumble's death.

When the sparkling accidentally hurts themselves, Soundwave will feel a sense of guilt as he's trying to heal them up. He's supposed to protect them, but they ended up getting hurt and he feels like he should've done better. But if someone tries to hurt the sparkling, all hell breaks loose. Soundwave and his minicons will hunt down the person who hurt the little one and tear them a new one.

Shockwave

Isn't really emotionally attached at all.

He does take care of them, but will raise them to be strong because, to him, the weak should serve the strong, and he will not raise a weakling. He is also glad that the sparkling isn't a disgusting hybrid like the Terrans.

He would even perform experiments on the sparkling, such as chemical enhancements to make them stronger than the traitorous Megatron.

Would pull a Mother Gothel and manipulate the little one as they grow up that what he's doing is for the greater good and that they are the key to that future.

Tarantulas

Unlike Shockwave, he does get emotionally attached and cares for them like a parent should.

He doesn't want them to live in fear because of GHOST thinking that the sparkling is affiliated with him because he's considered a Decepticon, which is why he decided to make the hologram avatars so they can hide and be safe.

Gave, even made, some toys for the little one that will enhance parts of the processor so they can be an intelligent individual just like their Sire.

At the end of the Missed Connections episode, he gave them to Nightshade so then they would be out of GHOST's hands. Believing that he was captured by GHOST, I think that he would stay there for the sake of the one he considers his own. When in custody, he would never mention anything about his sparkling for their safety.

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Note

How would Poe react if you sewed something for him? 👉👈 idk what, something nice or something silly. I think he'd appreciate it and I feel like he might be someone who's always giving gifts to ppl and no one thinks to get him anything.

Made With Love

Poe Dameron x Reader

TW/CW: None! Fluff!

A/N: As someone who sews a lot (sometimes by hand when I need to calm down) this is something I'd totally do askbdlsh

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

You cursed as the needle slipped and pricked your finger, bright blood welling up in a tiny pinprick before you squeezed what your boyfriend designated your "blood-sponge".

It was just a spare chunk of fabric you sterilized every time you began sewing, because stabbing yourself with the thin little metal slivers was always inevitable. You had more callouses from hand-stitching and embroidering than you did working on fixing consoles and electronics.

You were an analyst, not just the person who repaired the much-needed tech for the Resistance.

A battle analyst, statistical analyst, a "tech jockey" some called you--but many simply knew you as Poe's "partner in crime" as you oversaw many of his flight missions and dogfights.

You tied off the last stitch and held the fabric up to the light.

Poe's last scarf had gotten torn to tatters in a cantina brawl; so, the next time you were planetside, you hit a local market and scored some nice fabric to knit him a new one. It was a wonderful pass-time for you, especially if you were stressed out. The repetitive motion of seeing and embroidering soothed your mind enough to relax. Once, Poe had even caught you passed out with a half-patched shirt clutched in your hands, your head lolled back on your chair, the angle making you snore loudly.

Poe actually had BB-8 snap a holo of it. He still says it's his favorite holo he has of you--completely relaxed and at peace. (Although the pain in your neck was awful when he picked you up and laid you in his bunk.)

The scarf you had made Poe this time had the Resistance emblem embroidered in bright colors to match his flight suit, as well as a tiny BB-8 next to it.

Just then, the voice of one of the air traffic monitors buzzes through your comm; "Hey, tech jockey. Your boyfriend's squad is back. If you high-tail it now, you'll be able to make it to the hangar before they land."

You grin and jump to your feet, folding the scarf and stuffing it in one of your deep back pockets as you made a mad scamper, scrambling to lace your boots back up to make your way to the hangar.

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

"Poe!" You giggle excitedly, shouting across the hangar as the mechanics carefully extract BB-8 from Poe's X-Wing.

Poe turns to you with a grin, spreading his arms wide as you throw yourself into them; his thick limbs wrapping around you in a tight hug, picking you up and spinning you around with a very nice welcome-home kiss. May have had a bit too much tongue on his part, but you were just happy to have him back and be in his arms once more.

BB-8 trills at you as he sets you down nudging your leg affectionately, and you reach down to pat the little mech's cranium. "Awww, hey lil buddy! I missed you too!"

Poe grins again and slips an arm around your waist, his dark eyes glimmering mischievously. "So... How's the best analyst in the Resistance been doing since your handsome boyfriend has been doing suuuuper important scout work, eh?"

You roll your eyes and snort. "The usual, you goof. I've actually had a bit more downtime, lately. General Organa actually smacked me on the head and told me to go and get some rest when I overworked myself."

"Oooh, not surprised there. She's scary when you don't do what she says." He snickers, kissing your cheek again. "Anything else?"

You gasp, remembering your present, and fish it out of your fatigues. Poe tilts his head curiously at you, then, as you pull out the scarf.

"Here! I finished it today!" You chirp proudly.

Poe takes the scarf with his eyebrows raised high, holding it up to examine it. He grins when he spots the little bits of embroidery you did for him; BB-8 beeping happily and bumping into your shins affectionately when he spots his likeness in the fabric.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it?" He says, his brow furrowing and his lips pursing tightly. At his expression, you feel a lump of anxiety well up in your throat.

It is quickly quashed when he grins once more, his eyes lighting up as he slips the scarf over his head and hangs it from his neck, flicking the edge over his shoulder and striking a dramatic pose.

"How's it look? C'mon, tell me. Does it bring out my eyes?" He said, waggling his eyebrows. "I bet I can use it as a disguise!"

You clap your hands and laugh, "Poe... How would that even work?! People can still see your face!"

He pulls up the edge of the scarf and covers up the lower half of his face and nose, but you can still see his lips peek out from the fringe.

"Not if I hold it like this!" He says.

You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully, "You're not funny, Flyboy."

"Heyyy! I'm adorable." He argues humorously, wagging his eyebrows once again. "And handsome, and talented, and--"

BB-8 cuts him off with a dismissive trill, tweeting as his antennae bob.

"You're right." You nod at the little astromech. "He is full of himself, too."

Poe clutched his proverbial pearls, gasping in offense at the two of you.

"Ow! Whose side are you on?!"

#🌙 answered #poe dameron #poe dameron star wars #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader

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cosmicdumpling · 1 year

Text

monster » choi san

SYNOPSIS: You’re the devil-may-care daughter of a rich conglomerate, and that’s why you need Choi San, a top-notch bodyguard, for protection. The problem is, you want and need him in more ways than one, and while he remains professional albeit not naive to your advances, his patience is starting to wear unbearably thin.

PAIRING: san x fem!reader (no pronouns used)

GENRE/S: suggestive with a hint of angst

THEME/S: bodyguard!san, reader is a brat (you get the dynamic haha)

⚠️ WARNING/S: profanities, so much sexual tension, anxiety, smoking, mentions of blood, violence, brawling

WORD COUNT: 2k

➺ MAIN MASTERLIST

Brat.

San clicks his tongue as he wipes his knuckles free from a mix of dirt and blood, the bathroom door slowly creaking shut behind him. He hears a few muffled clicks and clunks, groaning, and then a poor bottle hitting the door as a result of being thrown out of a sheer tantrum.

With a huff, he turns his head and looks at the door from over his shoulder, the gears in his brain slowly rotating as he contemplates whether to help you out or not. But after a few moments of hesitance, he chooses the latter.

He finishes wiping the remaining grime off of his hand, then chucks the wipes into a nearby bin. San’s footsteps echo inside the large yet empty bedroom, his hand fishing the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his suit as he slides the balcony door open and steps out. He lights the cigarette, inhales an amount of smoke, and then exhales it back out.

He needs it to relax after tonight’s storm-tossed events.

San is the type of bodyguard who will settle things borderline politely as long as he can, maybe merely twisting one’s arm or grabbing somebody by the collar as a last-minute defense mechanism. But tonight, you definitely pushed him to his limits.

You’re allowed to go clubbing, yes, but under San’s supervision.

You’re allowed to drink and get wasted, but still under San’s company and supervision.

You’ve never tried to break free from it, ever, that’s why when you tried to do just that tonight, San went off the deep end. After a few moments of panicking, aggressive searching, and maybe a little bit of threatening, he finally found you getting thrown over the shoulder of a man, maybe to bring home or up the stairs into one of the rooms for him to enjoy.

Sadly enough for the stranger, he didn’t get to take his fourth step up the stairs, and San had him beaten into a pulp.

And surprisingly enough, you were sober enough to actually stop him and tell him to just bring you home.

“Daddy!” Your muffled voice makes San snap out of his trance, and he whips his head to stare at the door past the windblown curtains.

So, you’re about to throw a drunk tantrum all over again, calling for your dad to whine and complain about what San had done once more. Your dad, who will obviously take his side because you’re reckless, and everything that San has done is what your dad had expected of him to do for your safety.

“Daddy!”

San drops the cigarette butt on the ground, steps on it, and throws it into the bin on his way back in. He slides the glass shut, draws the curtains back, and knocks on the bathroom door.

Before he could speak, the door flings open, and he’s surprised to see you still fully clothed, leaning against the wall next to the crack of the door. San jerks his head to the door of your room.

“He’s not home. He went out.”

“I know, silly,” You sigh, removing your other earring before you slam it down onto the surface of the sink. “I was calling for you.”

San’s brow jerks discursively in response.

So, you think it’s playtime.

“You reek of smoke. You know I don’t like the smell of smoke,” Chuckling, you open the door wider and take a step closer to him. Eyeing him up and down, you take notice of the broadness of his shoulders and the buff of his chest, your eager fingers coming up to toy with his tie.

“You’re doing that on purpose to keep me away from you, aren’t you?”

San angles his head away as he swats your hand using the back of his wrist. His gaze is intense as he clenches his jaw while looking at you.

Of all the tests life has given him, maybe this is still the hardest. Patience. You really like to mess with his patience, and that’s because you know his tolerance is a little low.

“What do you need?”

“You,” You say and raise a brow, narrowing your eyes at him as much as he remains stoic. And then silence; he seems unfazed and yet you’re not embarrassed, so you chuckle to yourself and turn your back against him.

“I need you to unzip my dress, I can’t reach it.”

Click.

He takes a step closer, his large hands fiddling with the little zipper that’s barely half an inch of his finger. He unzips it just low enough for you to reach, and before you could say more, he makes eye contact with you through the huge bathroom mirror.

“Is that all?”

You smirk. “Unless you want to do more for me, then yes.”

San clicks his tongue, and he huffs before finally moving out of the door, making sure to slam it shut and make it known to you that he’s pissed after everything.

Perhaps, your homegrown personality and attraction to your bodyguard is a bad combination as well; it takes all of San’s strength to maintain professionalism when you act like a whole bratㅡ for instance, at times like this, when you’re tipsy and even more whimsical and flirty than you already are.

He’d been with you for three whole years, doing the same thing. Standing by your side, making sure nobody gets too close, and ensuring that nobody harms you in any way. And of course, in those three years, you’ve shown him kindness. You’ve shown him goodness even if you try to conceal it with another playful remark right after.

Heck, sometimes he even wonders that if you’re not so closed off and stuck up in your own arse, you would become friends. You always say that. You always tell him you want friends, that you want him to be your friend. And if he’s going to be honest, he wants to be your friend, too. But the problem is, he thinks you don’t mean what you say, only because you say it when you’re drunk and sad and a little playful.

San hopes you’re sober when you say you want to be with him while having this whole different look in your eyes– one he could possibly mistake as the desire to be loved by him.

But you’re always drunk when you do exactly that.

Sure, a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts, but a part of him wishes to hear them from you without alcohol clouding your head. He wants to see you mean it.

But then the other part of him thinks that it’s better off this wayㅡ for you both to be distant and nothing near friends. For one, it’ll be harder for him in his job. And two, you both belong in two different worlds that don’t cross.

You’re meant to be in the center of the room in all your lavish glory. He’s meant to be somewhere in the room ensuring you don’t get robbed of it. That’s it.

San stops pondering for a moment, and the night goes completely still. It’s suddenly so quiet. No grumbling, no stomping, no throwing of things, and no running of the shower.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

“y/n?” He turns around and calls. A few seconds pass, and then he hears it. Your troubled screams echo into the still night, and San pugnaciously pushes the bathroom door open.

The door goes wide ajar, with San frantically looking around for the possible intruder. And just then, the worried look on San’s face is wiped off; replaced with a rather restrained expression when he sets his eyes onto your. . . rather. . . relaxed figure on the tub.

“Woah there,” You chuckle, looking up at him with an amused expression as you toy with the water your body is submerged in. “Easy, big boy. It’s just me,”

An airy snort leaves your nostrils, and you purse your lips in an attempt to hide your smile.

You sit up slightly, pulling on the tub’s drain stopper as the water begins to clear out. San turns away, shoving his hands inside his pockets.

“I needed help because my towel was too far from me. Could you hand it, please?”

Mischief clouds your voice, and with the way you sounded, San could visualize the shit-eating grin on your lips.

Clenching his jaw for the umpteenth time tonight, San forcefully tugs the material off of the golden hook, eyes locking with yours as he hands it to you; persistent enough to not let his eyes wander anywhere else.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Alarming me when there’s no emergency.”

With this, you chuckle in mischief, the long, dragging, hum enough to tell him it’s nowhere near your agenda nor in your vocabulary.

“I’m just playing around with you because I want to be friends. Father never allows me to socialize with other teens and I have nobody but you. Is that too much to ask?” You say, faking puppy eyes as you grab the towel from his hands, sparing him a fleeting flirty gaze and a quirk of your brow as you wrap the towel around your body.

He rolls his eyes, stepping away to walk back out into the bedroom. You snicker at his signature expression, finding fun in the way he reacts to your flirting, and so you step out of the tub to play even more.

“Why don’t weㅡ”

“Stop testing my patience.” He growls, cutting you off by pushing your hips against the nearby sink when you try to place your hand on his shoulder, taking you by a rather pleasant surprise with his sudden roughness; the tips of his fingers digging into your towel.

“I’ve been holding myself back for a very long time and your mighty daddy won’t like what ungodly things I could do to his little princess if she continues pushing my buttons,” San says through gritted teeth, his lingering gaze piercing through your own orbs.

“Nobody said you should hold yourself back,” You grab his sleeve before he could pull away. San tries to avoid your eyes, so you push yourself up from leaning against the sink to run your fingers, ghosting them against his clothed chest.

“You’re not an imbecile and you know that I want you, San.”

His fingers dig deeper into your towel as you speak, his lashes fluttering prettily against his cheek as he rethinks his actions. Then, he lifts his head, jaw clenching again whilst his gaze flutters from your lips and your eyes.

You cup his jaw and lean in, just as San pulls away.

The sudden action is enough to leave the both of you stunned, and you stare at him as he shuts his eyes close, shaking his head at himself before he moves out of the bathroom and slams the door shut.

The door closes, and so you scramble to compose yourself, shakily opening the door before looking at his retreating figure in desperation. It’s your first time miraculously sobering up completely, and you refuse to believe it’s because you’re passing fancy for your own bodyguard, and you’re about to get rejected.

“You can beat somebody into a pulp but you can’t give somebody a kiss? I didn’t know you were such a coward, San!” You taunt and tease from the doorway, and you try to hide the trembling of your voice by feigning a jesting tone, in an attempt to stop him from walking away and make him come back.

But he doesn’t; not even when you’re wrong.

There’s a reason he’s learned how to protect, to fight, to kill. He isn’t a coward nor a good man— he’s the farthest thing from one.

You’ve already got him going crazy, and now you’re letting him in as he pleases, so he musters the strength to walk away.

He walks away, because the moment he sets a single foot over the line between you two, he knows he’ll never let you go, even if the time comes when you beg him to. He’s going to keep you, love you, indulge you, break you— and it’s an obsession he knows he will never let go of until the day he dies.

Why there's always been a monster in him waiting to be roused, after all.

#san fluff #ateez san fluff #choi san fluff #ateez fluff #san suggestive #ateez san suggestive #choi san suggestive #ateez suggestive #san x reader #ateez san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #san imagines #ateez san imagines #choi san imagines #ateez imagines

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howlingday · 7 months

Note

AU idea jaune the street fighter.

Combining elements from street fighter 6 as jaune becomes a well known fighter on the streets. He's no hero or villain. He just doesn't want to be bored.

Jaune: "well now...let's see if you care do something about my boredom..."

You have... NO IDEA how much I've wanted to do something like this. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to finally bring this AU I've had in mind to life. I just wasn't sure how to start it off, so... I'll go for a three-fer on this one. Three short bits to start off this story I've had in my brain for what feels like YEARS. And once again, thank you, for giving me the chance to create... My Bare Knuckle Arc.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Again!" Jaune came charging across the yard, sprinting as hard as he could, before leaping and kicking the strike pad in his father's hands. As he landed, the pad came back in kind. "Don't slow down!"

Jaune, however, was caught off guard by the sudden rush and fell to on his back. Knowing better than to be stuck to the ground, he clapped his hands against the dirt and rolled to his feet. The pad came swinging at him too fast for him to dodge, so he held his fist up to guard his face.

But it wasn't good enough and his fist crashed into his face, bringing a stinging pain to his eye and nose. Another pad came for the other side of his head, so he brought his fist up proper this time. Learning his lesson, the impact was much less than stunning than the one before.

"Block!"

The pads retreated and a leg curled in front of him. Jaune swung his arm down to block, but it was easily batted away before his chest was struck by the heel of his father's foot. He stumbled back, grunting through the pain, bringing his hands up to block any more blows.

"Jaune!"

In a blink, the match was over, and not just because Mom called his name. No, his father's massive foot close enough to his face that he could smell it, and it was only by the grace of his mother that it didn't bash his face in today. When the foot came down, he looked to her on the porch.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"It's from Beacon!"

-------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune still couldn't believe it. He was here in Vale, waiting for the bullhead to Beacon Academy, one of the four huntsmen academies, all of which were deemed the most prestigious schools in the four kingdoms, and he was so... so...

"Aaaaaah~!" He yawned.

Because he was so bored! I mean, he was excited, too, but there wasn't anything to do in between waiting for the bullhead and actually getting on the bullhead. The gym was closed, so he couldn't work out, and the comic book shop was closed, so he couldn't read anything other than his mom's "Special Little Guy" book in case he got homesick. Not in public, anyways.

Suddenly, he heard a crash coming from inside a dark building. Judging by the pulsing lights, the thrumming music, and the open door, it looked like a night club. Nobody was standing at the door, and his curiosity got the better of him. He peered inside and he couldn't believe what he saw.

There was a fight going on! A real-life bar brawl, just like in his dad's stories! Setting his bag down, he got closer to the scene.

Okay, what was it he was supposed to do? He wanted to get in on the action, but he'd only really done one on one at home. The girl in the center of the dance floor was taking on two other girls at once! Should he wait his turn, or should he help her out?

Well, time to try out the old tried and true.

"Hey, uh, you need any hel-"

Jaune's vision blurred as he was sent into the guard rails. He felt his body slump with an arm hanging over the metal bar. Heck of a sucker punch on the blonde girl, and those two other girls weren't anywhere to be found either. Guess he was supposed to wait for his turn, right? Well now it was his turn.

"What, you still want some?" She asked, snarling with red eyes. She must have hit him really hard because he was still tearing up. Why else was her hair glowing? "I've got enough in me to put you down, too!"

Jaune didn't say anything this time. He learned a long time ago that running your mouth was an invite to running the other person's hands. He put his fists up and approached in a boxer's stance. She put her fists, letting one loose to flip the "C'mere!" at him. He wasn't falling for it. Not this time

She tossed a jab at him, testing the waters. She tapped his knuckles. He flared his nostrils. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She swung with a hook, Jaune moved in and drove an uppercut into her ribs. She backed up a bit, grunting, before she came back with a yell and another hook. Jaune kept his guard up and stepped in again, this time driving a cross into her face. She stumbled a bit, blinking at the face-shot. He was doing pretty good. Not bad for his first-

Was she getting brighter?

-------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune was in hell. He died at that bar fight last night, and he was now in hell. How else would you explain his aching body, his stomach turning, and the mocking chatter around him? The only comfort he had was his bag/pillow under his head. That, and his memory of last night's fight.

Though that last bit was only made all the more awkward by the fact that same girl was standing across from him. His saving grace was her standing with a bunch of people standing between them. Well, that and the smaller girl in her arms. He heard the fighter calling the smaller girl "Sis" which made him a little happy that she had family on the bullhead with her. Kinda made him homesick.

He didn't pull out the book, though. Too many witnesses.

"Hello, and welcome to Beacon." He looked up to see a woman speaking on the screen. "My name is Glynda Goodwitch." Suddenly, there was turbulence and whatever was said next didn't matter to Jaune. He needed a bathroom or a trashcan NOW! He bolted for the front of the bullhead, beating on the bathroom door.

No good, AND he was getting worse! He bolted for the back, the woman on the screen now gone and leaving only the beautiful view of the waters below. He didn't have time to admire the view because he was about to ruin everyone's day all over the floor of the bullhead.

How were both bullhead bathrooms occupied right now?! The statistics will show that Jaune didn't have to consider the odds. He was gonna hurl in three... two...

The bullhead door opened and Jaune bowled over everyone in his way as he rushed out. The nearest trashcan by the door, thank god, was his target. He spilled his guts into the can, making people groan and retch as they passed. So much for good first day.

Wiping his chin, he walked back into the bullhead, hell itself, and grabbed his bag. Thankfully, nobody took it while he left to... relieve himself. Which was good. Stepping out to Beacon, empty belly and sure of himself, he took in the sight of what must have been straight from a fairy tale! Tall, towering, er, towers... towered over- There were towers, okay?

Oh, and students were already walking around with weapons, too! Guess they started handing them out now. Okay, he just had to find out where the armory or the forge or whatever was making their weapons was and he could get started on building his weapons!

Oh wow, they really got some pretty neat weapons, huh? I mean, that kid has a collapsible staff, and she has a fire sword, too! Then he saw one girl whip out her scythe in the middle of the street! And nobody is batting an eye! Okay, time to ask somebody.

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Uh, yeah?" A bald guy replied, a bow strapped to his back.

"Where did you get your weapon?"

"I, uh, built it myself back at Sanctum." He replied. He then looked Jaune up and down and around, then pointing at Jaune's bag. "Is your weapon in your bag?"

"Huh?" He looked down. "Uh, no, that's just my bag. Wait, hang on, where do I get my weapon?"

"You should have had it since you got here." He then checks his watch. "Oh, shish-kabob! I gotta go, but, uh, I'd ask a professor whenever you can!"

He then ran off, leaving Jaune alone. In the street. With his bag. And nothing else. It was at this moment that Jaune knew... he done goofed.

"Fu-"

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #ruby rose #glynda goodwitch #papa arc #mama arc #rwby au #bare knuckle arc #bare knuckle jaune #no weapons jaune #bare knuckle arc au #bare knuckle jaune au #no weapons jaune au #my answer #my answers

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enchantedflameandflower · 9 months

Text

A Billy Butcher Christmas

YOU try celebrating Christmas with Butcher...

Co-written with CheshireCat

*-*-*

Waiting alone in your dark apartment, you wondered what could possibly be keeping Billy so long.

M.M. had texted you that they were wrapping up the stakeout for that Supe they were trying to tie in with a known gun-runner and explosives smuggler. His contact had gotten spooked and never showed.

You stopped pacing and sat down on the couch again with a huff and then a long sigh. Billy was probably in some bar drinking away his anger. You only hoped he didn't start a brawl. "I suppose I should check my first-aid supplies," you griped at the empty room as you got up to check the kit you kept in a cupboard in the bathroom.

On your way back to the living room, you glanced out at the Christmas lights on the houses below your balcony twinkling like multi-colored stars in the dark. "Yeah...Merry Christmas," you said softly, thinking the best gift you could have would be Billy coming home safe and not too badly banged up.

Sighing softly, you went to the kitchen to pour a glass of whiskey. Pulling the bottle down from the top cupboard you tipped a bit of the liquid into your glass and then you poured some more. It was rich and warm on your tongue and burned just the right amount going down. Kind of like Billy.

Turning all the lights down, you went curl up in your favorite chair and just gaze at the lights. Billy would be here soon, and the alcohol helped to calm your worry.

For a bit, you made yourself relax but when you finally heard the keys jingling in the lock you jumped up from the couch, almost spilling your drink.

Damn...you could hear him grumbling and cursing through the door before it even opened. You knew how any perceived failure that amounted to wasting a night without nailing the perps they were after frustrated and angered him. You just hoped the end result wasn't too bad. Well, at least you knew you had plenty of everything to patch him up, if needed.

Setting your glass on the coffee table, you went to the door just as Billy got it open. “Hey,” you murmured. You couldn’t help but scan him head to toe checking for both injuries and his mood. He had a small cut on his temple, but that seemed the extent of his physical ails, at least.

You inwardly breathed a sigh of relief but put on a sympathetic face nonetheless. "M.M. told me tonight was a bust. What happened?“

You knew it was good to let him grumble a bit and get it off his chest while he actually processed things. As soon as he shrugged out of his coat you took his large hand and pulled him inside leading him to the couch.

Good thing you'd thought to bring the bottle of whiskey and an extra tumbler to the coffee table.

He sat down heavily and looked up at you, dark eyes swirling with emotions but warming and calming a little as he gazed up at you. He poured himself a measure of whiskey and put his strong arm around you when you curled up on the couch beside him, pulling you in against him, tucked into his side.

Happily, you nestled in against him and waited while he gathered his thoughts.

“The cunt never even showed,” he growled. “Worthless piece of shite. I should have known better than to think he would come through. He were only someone Frenchie knew through someone else and M.M only met the fucker once.” He huffed a sigh and took a long drink of the whiskey before setting it aside. “Fucking waste of a whole night.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, nestling closer to him and rubbing your hand over his chest. “There’ll be another chance. It’s Christmas Eve, maybe something just threw his plans off.”

Billy turned to look at you. “It’s what?”

"It's...it's Christmas Eve," you said again softly then cleared your throat. You'd told yourself you would not be disappointed if he didn't remember, but you'd still kind of hoped maybe he felt a little of the magic in the air and would want to share that just with you.

You looked over at the little tree you'd bought and his present you'd wrapped last night and tucked under the branches. You knew he didn't have the fondest childhood memories of Christmas and had hoped to maybe make it special for him this year.

You swallowed down your own disappointment. "I just meant he might have family or a girlfriend or something and had a last minute change of plans. We’ll get another chance.”

Billy looked out the window as if he was seeing the Christmas lights for the first time and the expression on his face lightened just a little…

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Let us know if you want more! 🎄❤️

Part 2

#karl urban #karl urban fanfic #the boys #the boys fanfic #billy butcher #billy butcher fanfic #fanfic #billy butcher fic #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #karl urban fanfiction #billy butcher fanfiction #christmas fanfiction #christmas fluff #christmas

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purplecoffee13 · 10 months

Text

‘Heaven’s On Fire’ - thin lines pt. 1*

“I want it all, give me what you got. It’s hunger in your eyes. I’m getting closer, baby hear me breathe” ~ Heaven’s On Fire by KISS

Summary: “You meet the infamous rockstar Harry Styles after your opera performance. He is an arrogant and self-centered prick, but you can't help but feel incredibly attracted to him.”

Wc: 4.6k

Tropes: rockstar!Harry X opera singer!MC

Warnings: smut (fem!receiving), Harry being a cocky asshole, degradation, dirty talk, mention of exhibitionism, dom & sub, slight age gap (19 & 23)

A/N: Hey! Welcome to this new series of mine! This will include a little bit of darker Harry, so don’t expect a lot of lovey dovey things here. Isn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes. Also be sure to check every chapter’s warnings before u go on with reading

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The Opera.

Of all places, that's where Harry's team had decided to send him to give him some 'good press'. It was absolutely ridiculous. He wasn't even allowed to bring a date. They knew he'd run off with them.

In a black suit, Harry stood outside in the common room of the theatre, waiting for the dreadful announcement that the two hours of high notes and absurd costumes could commence. He ran his hands through his now long hair, which he had spent a year growing out. It was freshly washed, and parts of his curls were still damp.

A guiding hand was put on Harry's back by Rob, his manager, and he was led to their seats. Harry was still being a grump to his manager, but Rob was used to it by now.

Harry had tarnished his image enough over the past two years, and he was in dire need of a clean slate. The media would only be so nice before sales started to decline.

It was a difficult job, what Rob had been put up to. While Harry's band mates knew how to keep their antics hidden from the public eye, Harry reveled in being in it. Mikey, his drummer and lifelong friend, had once called him a proper psychopath after two consecutive nights in a sex club somewhere deep in Hollywood.

There was no denying it, Harry had completely changed from the moment he came into the public eye. He wasn't the sweetest kid, but he'd always been pretty decent. But the flash of the cameras, the whiskeys and the lines of coke were enough to change a man. For the better, he thought. The people around him had a different opinion about it, but he didn't care. As long as he delivered on stage, no one batted an eye at him.

And he did deliver, both on stage and off of it. More than half of the bands' songs were written by Harry, whose impeccable songwriting proved itself time and time again.

But over the last few months, there had been one too many brawls at clubs, where paparazzi would catch a coked out Harry trying to beat up some local guy. It was also becoming difficult for the media to keep track on the amount of women he was fucking, and above all, his outspoken, atheist outlook on live didn't help much either.

So, Rob had sent Harry to a few socially acceptable events, where he'd have to make small talk and be nice, and look like he was actually dressed for the occasion.

Harry hated it, and he despised Rob for thinking going the opera would be a good idea. Nevertheless, he sat down, slightly slouched, and tried not to sigh too hard as he waited for the lights to dim.

It'd be a good way to get some sleep; he'd need it.

Harry had already closed his eyes for a few minutes when all of a sudden an angelic voice hit his ear drums, your voice. His eyes softly fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of an actual angel. Well, at least he thought.

On stage, you singing with such adoration and love in her voice that Harry could feel it, and despite not knowing what the play could've possibly been about as he had not informed himself, he knew your character was supposed to be in love.

From that second on, Harry's eyes were wide open. He'd rest them whenever you were not there, and was wide awake as soon as you, his little nightingale, would bless the room with your presence and your voice again. As the opera slowly worked its way to its climax, Harry leaned over to Rob.

"I need you to get me backstage."

"Why?" Rob turned to his client, a frown on his face.

"She has a beautiful voice. I want to tell her in person." He turned to his manager, who was eyeing him skeptically. Of course he thought Harry was getting in there for a quick fuck, and while those were exactly his intentions, he didn't need Rob to know. "What? You were the one who wanted me to have respectable acquittances."

"Right... you're right. I'll be back in a minute." He said before getting up and tasking care of Harry's commands.

Harry couldn't do anything else for the rest of the play other than think about his little nightingale in all the ways he wanted to have you.

(((|)))

Opening night was the most nerve racking thing you had ever experienced, but despite your fears, the opera had played out wonderfully. The overwhelming amount of applause at the end made you tear up, and the first few minutes back in your changing room consisted of nothing but staring out into the distance, thinking about how lucky you were to have ended up where you had.

You had always wanted to sing, ever since you was a little girl. You had always had the gift, but your parents didn't really believe in the unstable career that came with singing as a profession. That was, until you were accepted for the role of Liesl von Trapp in a sound of music musical held in the region's biggest theatre and ended up being scouted by your current manager, Reece.

This role was your ticket into the business, he'd said. After this, you would be able to work your way to what you truly wanted to do. Write songs. It was all you've ever wanted to do, but your operatic voice was the gateway into record deals.

'You need to be heard first, then you can write your story'. That's what Reece had told you, and you trusted him. Your succes was money straight into his pockets, so he would do what was best for you and your career, at least you assumed.

Your rattling mind was interrupted by a knock on your door. You watched through the mirror as the door opened, and Reece popped in.

"Good job, Y/N, truly." He said as he walked over to you. You turned around to get up and gave him a hug, your stomach tingling at the smell of his perfume. Reece always smelled very good.

You had slowly started to develop a slight crush on your manager. At first, you weren't attracted to him at all. In fact, you knew he had a girlfriend of a couple years so the thought never even entered your mind.

But then, one night, after a business dinner, Reece offered to get a drink at the local bar. You agreed and together you took off the a dive bar near the restaurant. It was a very fun night and you both got quite tipsy, and barriers had slowly faded. His hand lingered on yours very long, as did his gaze. And he knew just what to say to make you blush, then outwardly admitted he liked to get you flustered.

Since that night, Reece has been a confusing push and pull game for you. Some days he is extra touchy, others he acts like you're not even close to being friends. He doesn't like it when you talk to other guys, he'll act very distant and walk around with his jaw clenched, but at the important events he always brings his girlfriend. It's excruciating, but the second he touches you, all the bad parts of him fade into the nothingness.

"There is someone who wanted to compliment you in person." He says with a smirk on his face, and you tilt your head at the twinkle in his eyes.

You had to try your hardest not to let your mouth fall open as none other than Harry Styles walked through the door. His tall frame, dressed in a black suit, strolled into the room with his hands on his back. His long hair fell over his shoulders and you didn't think you'd ever seen a prettier man in your life.

"Harry, this is Y/N Y/L/N. And Y/N, this is Harry Styles." Reece introduced you two as you walked towards Harry to shake his hand.

"I know— I mean, nice to meet you." You corrected yourself quickly in hopes of not seeming like too much of a fan girl. Harry and his band had made some awesome songs and you had always been fascinated with his songwriting. You felt like you were in a dream.

"Nice to meet you too." His low voice made your cheeks heat up, and he caught it. The corners of his mouth tugged up, and then he turned to Reece. "My manager wanted to talk to you. He's outside."

Reece nodded, but stayed put. "I'll contact him."

Harry's nice gaze turned a bit cold. Could that guy not take a hint? Or did he not want to? Nevertheless, Harry didn't like not getting his way. Then, as if the gods had decided to favor him, Reece's phone rang. He silently excused himself as he slowly walked towards the door.

"Hi baby... yes, I'm in Y/N's dressing room right now— no I'll be right down there." He said, looking at you the whole time. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest at the sound of him talking to his girlfriend, who he of course belonged to. "Come on, babe, you know— okay, okay, fine."

He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket, a sigh leaving his mouth. "I'll be back shortly."

Then, Reece was gone. Open field, Harry thought.

He didn't miss the way you looked at Reece, but he didn't give two shits about that. Harry could make you forget about him in fifteen minutes, if you'd let him.

You were standing in front of him, not very sure of what to do or say, so Harry decided to be the one to talk first.

"You did a really great job on that stage." He complimented you, and you looked down at the floor, a sweet smile on your face while you fiddled with your hands.

"Thank you." You replied, forcing yourself to meet his eyes as you didn't want to be rude. "I... uhm, I really like your music. Your songwriting is amazing."

"Yeah?" Harry smirked, taking the smallest step towards you, and your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You were very nervous for a multitude of reasons, and his raspy voice didn't make it any less scary to talk to him.

"Yes, I can always feel your lyrics, even if it isn't a necessarily familiar experience for me. I don't know how you do it." You beamed as you turned around and walked towards your vanity desk, grabbing the pitcher on it and pouring some water into an empty glass. "Would you like some water?"

When you turned around with the glass in your hand, Harry was standing in front of you, leaned against the back of the couch behind him. You extended your hand out, and he took the glass from you.

"Thank you." He said, and you nodded.

"Was it not too boring? The opera, I mean." You couldn't help but ask. You'd always felt like they were a bit of a yawn, but being on stage was so thrilling that it wasn't half as boring as it might've been for the audience. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"With you in it? Absolutely not." He shook his head before taking a sip from the water, and you couldn't contain the smile that crept onto your face. Harry thought it was adorable, how much his words affected you, the rose colored cheeks that came with it. Your doe eyes that looked up at him with a desperation to please, to be liked. It was innocent, and that was dangerous, for the both of you.

Harry just wanted to take you right then and there and show you all the ways you could please him, then reward you with a string of orgasms for yourself. But he had a feeling that was a bit of a foreign concept to you, something that only made him want you more.

You were leaning against your vanity desk with your hands leaning on the table, when Harry got up and stalked towards you. Just the way he walked was so intimidating and a bit scary; you felt like you had to run. Your heart began to beat faster with every step he took towards you until finally he stood in front of you, way closer than necessary. He leaned forward and you felt your breath hitch in your throat, the smell of his aftershave making you a bit dizzy. A thud on the desk made you jump ever so slightly and upon looking down you saw the glass back on the table.

When your gaze met Harry's again, he had stepped back, knowing exactly what he needed to now. It was evident in his face; he knew you were attracted to him.

You tried to steady your breathing, gripping the desk until your knuckles turned white. He caught you off guard, and you were feeling so many things at once, but somehow it was overruled by the ache between your legs.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked, and at that very moment, you felt like pleading the earth to suck you under.

"What?" You asked, offended by the question. Not because it was necessarily insulting, but she didn't like to think she had the word 'virgin' written on her face. It couldn't have been that obvious, could it?

"I'll take that as a yes." He tilted his head. "So you're not fucking your manager?"

What the fuck?

You were flabbergasted by the rudeness of Harry. You knew he wasn't exactly the sweetest guy around — you didn't miss the news articles about him — but you thought he'd at least be decent in conversation.

"What?! N-no!" Your eyes were wide and you didn't know what to say. If Harry would tell people that you were sleeping with your manager — which you weren't —, Reece would never look at you again. He'd drop you and then your career would be destroyed.

"How old are you?" He went on, not paying attention to the quiver in your voice and the stressed out look on your face.

"Harry, why would you—"

"I asked you a question." He stepped in front of you, towering over you now. The low growl was extremely stern and the sheer sound of his voice made your stomach turn. Whether that was in a good way or bad way, you didn't really know.

"Sorry." You looked up at him, too scared to take your eyes off of him and accidentally pissing him off again. "I’m nineteen.”

Harry’s cock strained in his pants at the way you immediately obeyed him. Your age did explain your virginity though; he thought you were older. Four years was not a very big age difference, but your sexual knowledge did differ a lot. But that didn’t matter, he’d teach you.

“Good girl.” Harry whispered as he took your hand and stepped backward until he could sit on the back rest of the couch again. You slowly walked with him, it only seeming fit if he was holding your hand. He wanted you to follow, and you wanted to follow him. He was unprofessional, and rude, but you still wanted to do everything he said.

“How is it that a pretty girl like you has never been touched before, huh?” He asked, the sweet tone of his voice distracting from the vulgar question that had your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. When you didn’t answer him, he decided to make up some theories himself. “Are you waiting for your knight in shining armor, hmm? Or are you waiting for your manager to dump his girlfriend and decide to fuck you instead?”

That hit you like a slap in the face. You knew you wouldn’t be able to deny it with a straight face, so you turned around. But upon trying to get away from him, he pulled you back by your wrist until you were standing between his legs, your back against him. He snakes his left arm around your waist to pull you into him, and your eyes widened when you felt something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling.

You did not want to get in trouble, and your heart was racing at the awareness that the door was not locked, but you panties were ruined anyway. If confused you, why the knowledge of this being bad, forbidden or even risky, was making you all the more hot for it.

“It’s okay baby, your secret’s safe with me.” He purred, mouth on your ear after stroking your hair away from it. You spotted the sight of you two in the mirror, and you had to restrain yourself from letting out a whimper.

Harry was good at body language, and thus he knew you wanted him to touch you, even if you were too afraid to admit it yourself. There wasn’t an explicit yes yet, but there wasn’t talks of a ‘no’ either so Harry would carry on.

“You know, baby, I can teach you a thing or two.” He spoke up again, his fingertips stroking over your thigh as he talked to you. You swallowed, not being able to think straight with his breath in your neck and his hands on you like this. “Have you all prepared for when your little manager makes up his mind.”

That piqued your interest. You were quite insecure about the whole situation with Reece, especially because he was so much older and more experienced. You had never even seen a cock in real life, and while you had watched and read a thing or two, you didn’t have any actual sexual experiences — vibrator excluded.

You had always been quite the introvert, and no one ever sparked the desire in you to have sex. You were also the one to run away when things got too real or too intimate, and the unattainable part when it came to Reece is what made your attraction turn into a full blown crush. You could want him from a distance.

But what if the day indeed came, and you were unprepared? Then what? You didn’t want to disappoint Reece. You wanted it to be worth it for him, if he’d ever leave his girlfriend.

“What do you say, baby? Will you let me show you?” He asked, and then started kissing your neck. Involuntarily, your eyes started to roll back, and you felt yourself starting to relax in his hands, but that was only for a second before you came back to your senses.

“Harry… we— I don’t want to be unprofessional.” You squeaked out, trying to pull his arm off your waist, but you weren’t nearly strong enough.

“Weak excuse.” Harry scoffed, his fingers nearing the fabric of your black mini dress, now dangerously close to your soaked underwear. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to think of a better reason not to do this, but your mind wasn’t helping you at all.

“The door is unlocked.” You sounded out of breath, and it made Harry grin. You were trying so hard to resist, it would be easier and more enjoyable if you just gave in.

“That’s true.” Harry agreed, and you sighed, not sure whether it was out of relief or disappointment. “But you like that, don’t you? The idea that you could get caught any time.”

Harry’s fingers were grazing your panties, and he chuckled at the feeling of drenched fabric against his hand. He let you out of his grip and moved you until you were standing straight. He waited for a few seconds, but you weren’t moving. You were waiting, for him. The smirk on his face reached from ear to ear as he reveled in how right he was about you. He hiked up your dress a bit and pulled down your panties, letting them fall to your feet.

In a swift move, he pulled you back against him again, your bare ass now pressed against his jeans. He groaned at the sight of it, but focused back you. Then, he caught it, the way you were staring at you and him through the mirror. He met your eyes through the glass, and feeling like you’d been caught, you quickly looked away. In a matter of seconds, Harry’s hand was on your chin, directing your head back to the tall reflective glass.

“No, no. Watch yourself.” He ordered, before grazing his fingers over your slit. You gasped at the contact, and your head tilted back ever so slightly. Harry took it as a sign of full compliance; he knew better than to wait on a verbal answer by now. He knew you wouldn’t admit it, because it would be easier to pretend like it didn’t happen afterwards.

From that moment, Harry begin to suck on your neck as he rubbed circles on your clit, and held you in place with his free hand.

“You never answered my question, love.” He said lowly. “Tell me, do you like the idea of getting caught?”

“Yes.” You whispered, the confession feeling to scandalous to say it in anything other than a hushed tone.

“That’s what I thought.” Harry said proudly, fingers nearing your entrance. You whimpered in slight pain when two of his fingers slid inside you at the same time. It was easy, because of how wet you were, but it besides your vibrator there had never really been anything in there before, and it had been a while since your vibrator.

“God, you’re fucking tight.” Harry groaned in delight, mostly to himself. His fingers curled inside of you and your entire body jerked up. He held you into place with his other arm, but the devilish smile on his face wasn’t missed by you. You were still watching his every move through that mirror. “And so reactive.”

“Harry… what if someone walks in?” You tried to argue, and you weren’t even sure why because if it were up to you, his fingers would stay inside of you forever. But you still felt like you were breaking the rules, like you were betraying Reece. Which, you instantly realized, was absolutely ridiculous because he was currently with his girlfriend.

“I think we just established that you wouldn’t care very much about that, and I don’t either.” He rasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a lazy pace. “And you’ll do whatever I tell you, won’t you?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Exactly.” He planted a few kisses in your neck. “So even if someone would walk in, I wouldn’t stop until I have you cumming all over my fingers.”

You let out a soft moan at the sinful image he created with his words, and he let his free hand travel to your clit as he started fingering you faster and faster.

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” His voice was becoming more strained with every second, because he was trying his hardest to keep himself from cumming inside his pants. Especially when you hummed in agreement.

He didn’t have this problem with other people, but then again he didn’t take this much time with others. You were different, in this sense. Harry knew that he needed to ease you into this, otherwise you’d never agree. And there was something about you, he guessed it was your pure aura, that made him want you more than he had ever wanted a girl before. He needed to fuck you, so he wouldn’t mind taking a detour.

“Can you see it yet, him walking through the door and seeing your little pussy getting wrecked by my fingers?” He knew you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm. “Tell me.”

“Shit— yes!” You cried out, not being able to think straight with that vision clouding your mind.

“But you wouldn’t stop me, would you? You’d let me fuck you with my fingers until I’ve had enough, right?” He asked, but you knew these were all rhetoric questions. Harry knew you were completely at his mercy, and somehow he had found out how much you got off on that too.

“Yeah— ah! I… would.” Your legs had began to shake and you knew your high was just around the corner. Harry wasn’t slowing down, and neither were the gasps and whimpers that left your mouth as he worked his magic on your clit with his other hand.

“You’d even let me fuck you in front of him if I wanted to, wouldn’t you? Fuck you stupid against that mirror while he watches you fall apart for me. You’d get off on it.”

“Harry!” You begged. You just wanted a release at this point, and you were on the brink of it. He rubbed your clit harder, and you began to see stars.

“Go on, you can cum now, knowing you’re nothing more but a desperate slut, just begging to be my personal fuck toy.” He said, as you came all over his fingers with a string of agreeing words leaving your mouth. “There you go, you wanted it so bad, huh? Good fucking girl.”

You panted as Harry’s fingers worked you through your high, and you had let your body lean against him, too tired to hold yourself up. You were extremely out of breath, but barely had time to recover when there was a knock on your door. You stepped forward, away from Harry, and pulled your dress down. Turning around and leaning against the vanity just like you were before Harry decided to give you an orgasm.

In the mean time, Harry had leaned down and grabbed your panties, quickly stuffing them in his pockets.

“C– come in!” Your voice sounded hoarse, but you acted like nothing happened as an unfamiliar head peeked around the door. Harry turned around to see who it was and smiled at the man who had knocked.

“Hey, Rob!” He said, sounding way too smug and casual for your liking.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Rob said, sounding a little bit disappointed with Harry, and you crossed your arms, feeling too naked, still. It felt like this Rob guy could see right through you and Harry’s antics, and you were feeling very exposed at the moment. Harry got up and winked at you before making his way towards the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N. See you soon.” He said, earning a frown from both you and Rob. Harry didn’t look back as he walked out the door, Rob following him as he said his goodbyes too. You awkwardly waved, feeling extremely confused, turned on and fucked out at the same time.

You sighed, exhilaration coursing through your veins. You jumped when Reece’s voice sounded from the other side of the room all of a sudden.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, suspicious with the look on your face. You faked a smile, and nodded.

“Yeah, just… overwhelmed.” You shrugged. Technically you were telling the truth. You were overwhelmed, just with the orgasm you just had rather than the show of tonight.

“Let’s go to the party, I need to introduce you to some people.” Reece said, sending that there was something with your answer that didn’t make it entirely truthful.

“I’ll meet you out there in a minute.” You smiled innocently, and he nodded before walking out the door. You sighed the moment the door shut, and leaned down to grab your panties, only to realize that they weren’t there.

Bastard!

…..

Masterlist

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #smut #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction #one shot #series #opera #singer #rockstar

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