#seduction at the disco

[rizlowwritessortof]

@jacklesversebingo Square #3!

Written for Jacklesversebingo2024. The prompt for this one is 'Come on. I'll show you how to dance.' This went a little bit of a different direction than I expected, but I think I like it - hope you do, too!

The big Founder's Day party for Vought International is a 70's disco theme, and your friend Camille has talked you into going, even though you'd rather stay home with a book and glass of wine. You never imagined you'd be dancing the night away with your superhero crush.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2992

Warnings: Nothing but smut (and maybe a little glimpse through the cracks in Soldier Boy's armor)

Dividers thanks to @firefly-graphics

You walk up to the entrance, shivering a little as a brisk late-October breeze dances around your bare legs and ruffles your skirt. You hand the expressionless suited man at the door your Vought ID, and he nods, waving you by.

You’re not sure why you came. You are a low-level executive assistant at Vought, and you’re honestly surprised that they have bothered to invite people at your pay grade to this Founder’s Day party. You know very few people that you work with, and you would much rather be at home in front of your fireplace in your fuzzy socks with a glass of wine. But you had promised your coworker, Camille, that you would come.

“It’ll be fun! We get to dress up retro and cut loose on the company’s dime! And who knows? You might get a chance to dance with a supe!”

The whole night was planned around a 70’s disco theme. You had raided a vintage clothing store and found the perfect dress, a jewel-toned blue that shimmers in the light, the fabric soft and clingy, with a skirt that will whirl when you dance. If you dance. And if you don’t break your neck in the platform heels you’re wearing. You even tried to curl your hair in the Farrah Fawcett style, but you’re not sure if you really succeeded. Oh, well, not like anybody will really notice anyway, right?

Vought has rented the entire night club for the event, and you’re a little intimidated at the number of people attending. Once again, visions of sitting by your fireplace where you’re safe and alone flash through your mind, and you’re tempted to turn around and leave. But you hear your name, and turn to see Camille rushing towards you, her mouth open in amazement. “Oh my God, girl, you look fantastic! Where did you find that dress?”

She proceeds to pull you into the main room, over to a table she has already claimed, and you hang your jacket on the back of your chair and let her lead you to the bar. “Tequila sunrise, please,” you order, glancing around the room. They have gone all out for this – two huge mirrored disco balls hang above a lighted dance floor, both inactive at the moment. There is music playing in the background, but the DJ hasn’t started the show yet, giving more people a chance to arrive. The bartender slides your drink over with a wink and flirty smile, and you smile back. He’s dressed for the theme, right down to his puka shell choker.

By the time the DJ is in full swing, you are actually enjoying yourself. Of course, the tequila is probably helping, but you had expected to be heading back home by this time. A few people are on the dance floor, but you haven’t ventured out there yet. More tequila is probably needed for that.

It’s fun seeing all the 70’s costumes, but most of the supes in attendance are just wearing their normal suits, and it’s kind of a disappointment. Of course, they’re all in their own orbit – most of them wouldn’t be caught dead fraternizing with Vought peons.

Flirty bartender has just handed you your third (you think?) drink when a smooth, deep baritone interrupts your conversation. “Well, well, well - where has Vought been hiding you?”

You turn to face a broad chest, leading up to even broader shoulders, and from there… “S-Soldier Boy?” you stammer, instantly star-struck. You have never actually seen him in person, and he’s more than impressive. He has actually embraced the theme, dressed in a silky shirt swirled with iridescent blues and purples, open far enough to expose a pair of gold chains gleaming against his tanned chest. His light-colored bell bottoms are clinging to his powerful thighs, and they are doing nothing to hide his other – assets.

“Oh, kitten, you can call me Ben.” The tone of his voice is like a caress, and you nod, unable to speak at the moment. You take a swallow of your drink, watching as he turns to lean an elbow on the bar. “Seriously, why have I never seen you before?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your heart from pounding its way out of your chest. “I work in the accounting department. I don’t suppose you get in there very often.”

He scoffed. “Never. Numbers are not my job. But I might have to find a reason to check in once in a while, if they’re keeping gems like you hidden in there.” You’re blushing, or it’s the alcohol, but either way, your temperature is rising. “So – how about a dance?”

You duck your head, embarrassed. “I – I don’t really know how. Especially this kind of dancing, I’ve never…”

He reaches over to take your hand in his, caressing it with his thumb, and your mind immediately begins to imagine his touch on other more intimate parts of your body. “Come on. I’ll show you how to dance. After all, I was here in the 70’s, you know. I practically invented The Hustle.”

You’re a little panicked as he leads you towards the dance floor, and you glance back at your table. Camille is staring at you with her mouth hanging open. The flashing lights make you a little dizzy as he pulls you close, his hand large and firm on the small of your back, holding you close to his body. He’s warm, and solid, and when he starts to move, he just guides you along with him. “It’s just like making love, baby doll – feel the rhythm and go with it.”

By the time you’re almost through the second song, you’re getting the hang of it. “You’re doing great. All you have to do is let your body do what it feels.” He leans closer, his lips next to your ear. “Your body’s got my body feeling all kinds of things I can’t do out here on the dance floor.” His hand moves down a little farther, and the movement of his hips is causing sparks to run up your spine. “Hold on, kitten,” he says, then spins you out away from him, twirling you and then bringing you back close, grinning down at you as he dips you back before bringing you upright again. You look up at him, your eyes sparkling as you laugh. “See, you just have to let go. Having fun?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you answer a little breathlessly, letting him have the lead and following as best you can. You’re not perfect, but he’s strong enough and accomplished enough to keep you where you need to be, and you are not hating the feeling of being held tight in his arms. The two of you are drawing some attention, and he obviously loves it, shamelessly showing off and bringing you along for the ride. You dance your way through Stayin’ Alive, Car Wash, Boogie Fever, Funky Town and yes, even The Hustle. When the DJ announces that he’s taking a break, you are a little relieved. You need a cold drink and to get off your feet for a while.

You move to head towards the bar, but Ben stops you, grabbing hold of your hand. “Come with me – I’ve got a nice, quiet spot where we can cool off.”

As soon as the two of you leave the main room, Ben backs you against the wall, his eyes fixed on yours. He bends to kiss you, slow and sensual, and when he finally raises his head, you stand there stunned for a moment. Of course, like many women, you’ve dreamed of this – but it’s so much more than you could have imagined. Then he takes you by the hand, and you follow him around the corner and down the hall. He opens a door and leads you into a lavish office, complete with a living room area and a full bar. “Want a drink?”

“I just need some water,” you say, your eyes scanning the room. “So – do you own this place or something?”

Ben laughs. “No, just a frequent flyer. Owner lets me use this room if I need, you know, a little privacy.” He hands you a bottle of water, opening one for himself and downing almost the whole bottle.

You stare at his lips and his throat as he swallows, feeling your body flush hot, finally pulling your eyes away and drinking a good portion of your water as well. You wander around the room, examining things here and there, the whole night feeling a little surreal. “So – can I ask you a question?”

“I’m an open book, baby doll.”

You pause your exploring, leaning your back against the front of the bar, looking up at him as he moves to stand in front of you. “Why am I here? I mean, why are you spending time with me? You go out with supermodels and movie stars. I’m just an executive assistant in the accounting department, just an ordinary girl, nowhere close to the glamorous people you’re usually with.”

He looks down at you, the back of his fingers brushing over your cheek. “The thing is – the people around me, they are always putting on an act. Trying to do or be or look like what they think I want. Not an authentic one in the bunch. It gets old. Sometimes – well, sometimes I just want to be with somebody real. Someone sweet and genuine,” he says as he gazes into your eyes. “Somebody who doesn’t put on an act. Somebody who just is who they are. So maybe I can fucking let down my guard for a little while.” There’s a fleeting flash of vulnerability in his eyes, gone so quickly you’re not sure you actually saw it.

His response to your question is unexpected, and you look up at him, debating with yourself for a moment. Then you step up close to him and reach to put your hands behind his neck, standing on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He sets his water behind you on the bar and slips a hand around to your back, urging you closer, the fingers of his other hand tangling in your hair as he angles his mouth over yours and deepens the kiss.

You cling tighter to him, your heart pounding, as he scoops you up and carries you over to the large sofa, lowering you down and hovering over you, your lips still sealed with his. Your eyes flutter open as he lifts his head, and he stares down at you with a warmth in his eyes that sets your pulse racing. “If you don’t want this, now’s the time to tell me,” he says, watching you closely for a reaction, but you pull him back down and kiss him again, no question at all in your mind. You want him, and you’re pretty sure your stars won’t align this way again.

Somehow he manages to slip his hands underneath you and unzip your dress, and he soon has it down around your waist. He stops, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks his fill. “You’re a beautiful girl,” he says, his voice rough with arousal as he palms your breast with one large hand, bending to flick his tongue over the nipple of the other. You let out a breathless moan, and he chuckles quietly as he sucks a mark into your soft flesh, one hand slipping up beneath your dress to explore the heat between your thighs. “So wet for me,” he murmurs, his mouth still teasing at your nipples, making you arch up underneath him. You are aching with the desire for more, and you let out a desperate whine.

He tugs at your nipple with his teeth before raising his head to look down at you, then standing up and taking your hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s get rid of this dress, shall we?” He slips the silky garment over your head and tosses it over a nearby chair. “Much better. And you won’t be needing these.” He tears your panties apart with one tug, dropping them to the floor, then pushes you gently back down on the couch. “Now, where were we?”

His lips are hungry as he bends to kiss you, his hands roaming over your skin. He finally slips a finger inside you, and your hips lift up to meet his touch. “Oh, you want more,” he teases as he lifts his head to watch your face, adding another finger and stroking inside you until he gets the reaction he’s waiting for. “Feel good, baby doll?” You nod, soft little noises escaping your lips, and you buck up hard as he begins to rub at your clit with his thumb. He ramps up the speed, and you are almost in tears, so desperate to relieve the tension in your body. When he moves his other hand to pull and twist at your nipple, that tension snaps and you cry out as you come, faintly hearing his soft, victorious laugh.

When he pulls his fingers free, you slowly let your eyes drift open, watching him suck his fingers clean. “You think that was good, just wait,” he says, raising up to one knee, his other foot planted on the floor as he unfastens his pants and pulls them down to free himself. Your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight – he is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you’re a little uneasy.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll take it slow,” he says, and you swallow hard, nodding as he watches you. He lowers himself down, scooping one arm beneath your knee as he slots himself between your thighs and begins to push inside you. He nuzzles at your neck, whispering, “Relax,” and you take a deep breath and try. He’s not hurting you, but the stretch is intense, and you grasp at his biceps, your nails digging in. He continues slowly, a low groan in his throat when he is finally flush with your body. “Good girl.”

You shudder hard, and he crushes his lips to yours again as he moves, just slightly at first, allowing you to adjust to him. Then he raises his head, looking into your eyes as he begins to thrust, slowly building up to a steady rhythm, each stroke becoming harder, deeper. Your quiet little whimpers and moans are getting louder as he ramps up, fucking into you at a furious pace, so deep it almost aches, but it feels so damn good that you never want it to stop. “Such a sweet, tight pussy,” he growls out, and you begin to wail and shout his name as he pounds into you. “Come on, baby doll, I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

And you do, so hard it feels as if every cell in your body explodes, your cunt gripping him so tight he swears. “Fuck!” He keeps driving into you as you clutch mindlessly at him, hoarsely crying out his name. You are finally starting to come down when he lets out a long, low moan and unloads, flooding you with heat and sending aftershocks through you that make you clench your teeth, whimpering as you finally go limp underneath him.

When you walk out of the bathroom a while later, after getting dressed and doing damage control to your hair and makeup, Ben is standing at the bar. He finishes snorting something white off the bar top before tossing back the remainder of his whiskey. “So, time for the real party to start?” you ask quietly, going to retrieve your shoes from beside the door.

He clears his throat. “Gotta go mingle with the elite, part of the job,” he says, watching you slip your shoes back on. “And doing that sober? No thanks.”

“Then why do you do it?”

His voice is different when he answers – cocky, arrogant. “Hey, I’m America’s first superhero. That’s my fucking life, baby doll.” He turns to look at you. “Looks like maybe you’re done for the night.” He smirks. “Did I wear you out?”

You stare back at him. “I liked you better before. When you were just being Ben. Soldier Boy might be a superhero, but I think he’s kind of a dick.” You reach for the door handle, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“How about I walk you out. My driver can take you home, if you want.” He sounds softer again, and you hesitate for a moment before nodding.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

He escorts you back through the club, stopping to grab your jacket. Camille is on the dance floor, so you’re spared explaining where you’ve been. He keeps a hand on the small of your back as he guides you through the crowd, and you take a deep breath of the cool, crisp air when you finally make it outside. The quiet compared to the deafening noise inside the club is a relief, and you turn to face him with a smile as his driver pulls up to the curb. “Thank you, Ben. I really did have a great time tonight.”

He responds with a crooked smile, raising a hand to touch your face. “Yeah. Me, too.” He bends to place an almost chaste kiss on your lips, then another not so chaste, leaving you with face upturned and eyes slowly fluttering open. “Do me a favor, kitten. Stay just the way you are.”

You smile up at him a little shyly, then get into the back of the car when he opens the door for you. “Good night, Ben.” You watch him standing there, lighting a cigarette (or a blunt, you’re not sure) as you pull away. “Good night, Soldier Boy,” you whisper to yourself.

Tags for my lovelies: 

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[my-soliloquy-chamber]

[annaberunoyume]

POV: WALLY DARLING SLAYS THE DANCEFLOOR AND WOOS YOU.

[thegreateyeofsauron]

imagining a world where instead of hogwarts houses people assign themselves disco elysium coprotypes

"single mom, 36, hobo-cop" pfp is her holding a lidi's bag full of empty tare (real discoheads only call it that) and and header is her posing seductively in an open dumpster

"male, 40-50ish?, single, superstar, i want to have fuck with you" pfp is him doing the expression. he's literally the actual harry du bois

[gothcsz]

Body Language | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 2 to this bad boy right here | ~8.2k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Caught in a charged and unexpected moment with Javier Peña, you struggle between resisting his relentless seduction and giving in to the tension that has been building since the last shoot.

Tags: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of Y/N, reader is shorter than javier but other than that no physical descriptions, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (we're in an elevator this time around), reader really doesn't like javi, steve being steve, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then my ass had to drag it out just a little because their dynamic is very fun to write 😭 he's like whyyy don't you like me and she's like how much time do you have? lmfao. this is dedicated to @auteurdelabre 🖤 #1 pornstar javi stan, i almost submitted this for your trope off but decided to save that honor for my other story! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy javier begging to eat you out 🥂 let me know what you think 🖤 mandatory mutual tags: @almostempty / @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

You sit in the cramped waiting room outside of Robbie’s office, the stale air clinging to your skin as you shift uncomfortably in the worn-out chair. The place is too quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city outdoors.

You glance at the clock on the wall, anxiety creeping up your spine. You have a shift at the bar in an hour, and time is slipping through your fingers. The laundry, the groceries, the endless list of errands— it all piled up today, and now you’re cutting it too close.

But you need this check. It’s the only reason you’re here, tapping your foot in impatience. If you don’t get it today, the money won’t hit your account in time to cover rent, and you really don’t want another lecture from your landlord. It’s bad enough you’re already behind— no need to give him more ammunition to chew you out.

You sigh and lean back, eyes closing as you try to drown out the frustration swirling in your head. That’s when you hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator down the hall and turn your head to see who’s joining.

Your stomach drops and you sit up straight. No. Not now. The air feels heavier, thick with that familiar irritation, as the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the tile grows louder. 

Javier Peña.

Just the thought of him sends a hot wave through your being, a mix of irritation and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t want to think about that last shoot, the one where things shifted. Where shit got weird. You behind the camera, filming as always, while he was balls deep in another woman, claiming you were on his mind.

“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”

“Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”

It was like he’d stripped you bare with just a few words, leaving you more exposed than them in the midst of their carnal fucking. And the worst part? You’d been affected by it. Skin on fire, pussy wet. It also didn’t help that Steve had heard it too. The mic catching the flirting, the hitch of your breath getting stuck in your throat, clear as day.

He’d asked you about it later at Lucky’s, as promised, all smug and drinking that God-awful beer. But you’d brushed him off, hoping he’d drop it. Thankfully, he had— for the most part— but you could still feel his restlessness, wanting to stir the pot.

Now, Javier is here, of course, because the universe just loves to mess with you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back against the chair in defiance. You refuse to look at him. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he gets under your skin. 

His footsteps stop just a few feet away, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. You can feel him looking at you, feel the weight of his brown eyes like a physical thing as they rake over your body.

You keep your gaze glued to the wall, focusing on the ugly, generic painting hanging there like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You gonna act like you don’t see me?” His voice is deep, smooth, and frustratingly cocky, just like always. 

You grit your teeth, biting back a response. You won’t give him an inch. Not again. This motherfucker will take a mile.

“Okay, so that’s what we’re doing.” Before you can react, he plops down beside you. You stiffen immediately, moving your crossed knees to the side, angling yourself away from him, as if the few inches of space will protect you from the onslaught of whatever the hell he’s about to say next.

He spreads his thighs wide, his posture screaming obnoxious confidence. You just barely catch a glimpse of his bulge pressing up against his left thigh and how the fuck does it look so big even when he’s soft? “You know,” he says, voice dripping with that lazy, arrogant drawl, “you’re the only woman that treats me like this, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”

You snort, the sound sharp and humorless. You still don’t bother looking at him.

Javier frowns, flitting his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “Is it because I came off too strong the first time we met? ‘Cause if that’s the case; then I’m sorry. Can’t help myself from flirting with pretty little things like you.”

You roll your eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets. He doesn’t sound sincere at all.

Thing is, you didn’t mind the flirting. Even if he, like he’s so romantically put it, does flirt with pretty little things all the time; it did make you feel like just that. Pretty. It’s what came after that soured your Javier Peña experience.

He huffs, like a petulant child, frustrated by your silence. You don’t give him the satisfaction of even a glance. Instead, you shift in your seat, your mind racing, wondering what the hell is taking Robbie so damn long. He never works, barely lifts a finger unless there’s money or something else in it for him, and now, suddenly, he’s busy? Yeah, right. He’s probably in his office jerking it to one of his films, getting off on his own work. Typical.

You’re done waiting. With a sharp movement, you stand, startling Javier, though you still don’t give him the time of day. He’s used to women catering to his every whim, hanging on his every word. You aren’t going to be one of them. Not even if he did manage to get you all hot and bothered.

You stalk over to the door and knock harder than necessary. “I’m busy,” his voice grumbles through the wooden surface, and you resist the urge to scream.

“And I need my check. Just slide it under the door or something,” you snap, the urgency in your voice making it clear that you’re not in the mood to get fucked around with.

There’s a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers before the door cracks open just enough for Robbie to stick his hand out, an envelope clutched between his fingers. He practically shoves it into your hand before slamming the door shut again.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the envelope with your name scrawled across the front. Surrounded by imbeciles. Just one shift to get through tonight, and then maybe, just maybe, you can get some peace. Enjoy the first weekend off you’ve had in months.

Now that you have what you came for, you spin on your heel and stride down the hallway, ignoring the handsome pornstar still lounging in the chair behind you. From your peripheral, you can see him sitting there, skinny jean clad legs spread, looking all annoyingly sexy without even trying. It would be so much easier if he were ugly— or literally anyone else. But no, it’s Javier fucking Peña, with his ridiculous good looks and that cocky smirk that could probably charm the panties off half the city if he wanted to (it probably has, to be honest).

You mentally map out the next hour: hit the bank, dash home to change, then off to work. You could walk to the bank, maybe catch a taxi home if you’re lucky. But with traffic in this city, luck isn’t really on your side. You start considering your options— do you skip changing and just head to work as you are? Would your other boss even care if you showed up a little underdressed? You’re so lost in your thoughts, focused on cutting corners to save time, that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you.

It’s not until the elevator dings and you step inside that you realize you’re not alone. Javier’s slipped in just before the doors close, sliding smoothly into the cramped space beside you. The sudden proximity makes your heart do this stupid little jump, and you curse yourself for it. You’re trapped now— stuck way too close to him in the tiny metal box.

The air feels charged, his presence impossible to ignore yet again. The smell of his aftershave hits you first— spicy, with a hint of something woodsy, layered under the scent of his leather jacket and the faint, lingering whiff of cigarette smoke. He tries to drown it out with minty gum, but it’s still there, clinging to him like an old habit. And damn it, your knees go a little weak, despite your best efforts to stay cool.

The height difference between you is glaringly obvious now. You’re eye level with the habitually open portion of his cream colored shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give a peek at his brown chest. It’s frustrating how effortlessly he pulls off the whole rugged look— like he doesn’t even try, but somehow manages to look better than most men who spend hours on it.

You swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you can smell him, that you can feel the heat radiating off his body in the tight space. He’s just too close, and the damn elevator isn’t moving fast enough. You’ve got a million things to worry about right now—rent, work, your life— and the last thing you need is to be distracted by him.

But, like always, he’s right there, invading your space, making it impossible to think of anything else.

“What the fuck do you want?” You snap, breaking your vow of silence. You frown up at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface as you cross your arms defensively over your chest— a bad move, you realize too late, as the motion only pushes your braless tits together beneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Predictably, his eyes drop immediately. You curse yourself for not wearing something more substantial. It’s not like I was planning to run into him today, you think to yourself.

“To understand why you hate me so much,” Javier says, his voice low, carrying that annoyingly casual tone, as if this whole conversation is nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him.

Your brows knit together, and a dry laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it. “Well, for starters,” you bite out, “you can’t even look me in the eyes when you ask.” 

His gaze snaps up so fast it’s almost comical, his dark eyes locking with yours, defiance flaring there. But there’s something else too— something that makes the air between you even more tense. You hold his stare, daring him to say something, to make this worse for himself. His expression tightens, but you continue before he has a chance to speak. “And I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. You annoy the shit out of me.” 

He flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The smallest chink in his armor. You reach around him, your hand brushing against his side as you press the button for the main floor. The contact sends a ripple of awareness through you that you try to ignore. You don’t have time for this— for him.

Javier scowls, his mouth pulling into a frown that mirrors yours, and before you can react, he half-turns and punches a button for a different floor, effectively canceling your request. The elevator jolts, shifting direction. 

You groan audibly, exasperation washing over you. “And here you are, proving my point,” you mutter under your breath. Every second you waste in this shitty elevator with him is another second closer to being late for work. Another second closer to not getting everything done that you needed to today. He’s not just in your way—he’s deliberately in your way, and the worst part is, he knows it.

“You don’t like me,” he counters, turning back to face you fully, his tone edging into frustration, “but you never even gave me a chance.” His jaw is set now, his eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit that there’s more to it than just annoyance. Like he wants you to say it’s something else, something deeper.

If you had the luxury of time, you’d lay it all out for him, explain in excruciating detail just why you’ve avoided giving him that chance. How his arrogance grates on you. How his charm, though admittedly effective, feels hollow. How the way he flirts isn’t even the problem—it’s the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t want to admit.

But you don’t have that kind of time.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. “As fun as it’d be to stand here and explain this shit to you like a child,” you say, your voice tight, “I have important things to do, and you’re keeping me from them.” You jab the elevator button again, hoping the damn thing will just go where you need it to without another unnecessary detour, but you already know it’s a losing battle. 

Javier shifts closer, just slightly, his presence looming. You can smell that damn aftershave again, all spice and leather and smoke, and it only pisses you off more because your body reacts to it before your brain can stop it. You feel your resolve slipping, just a little. His eyes are on you, unwavering, intense in a way that makes you want to both slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“I’m not trying to keep you from anything,” he replies, softer now, the edge in his voice gone. His tone is almost... apologetic? No. It can’t be. Javier Peña doesn’t apologize. At least not in any way that feels real.

You don’t even bother responding, just stare at the numbers above the door, willing them to move faster. The sooner you’re out of here, the better.

“Just—fuck, give me something. Anything,” he growls, frustrated as all hell. His eyes are wild, and you can see the cracks in his usual suave demeanor, like he’s barely holding it together. “Ever since that last shoot, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. You think you’re exasperated? How the fuck do you think I’m feeling over here?”

You raise a brow, leaning into your disdain as you pout at him mockingly. “Oh, boohoo. Cry me a river. A girl doesn’t like me back, wahh.” You mimic the sound of a crying baby, bringing your fists up to rub against your cheeks in the most exaggerated way possible. Then you drop the act, face deadpanning. 

His eyes narrow, and you think you’ve finally hit a nerve. Good. Let him stew in it. But instead of backing down, he does something you don’t expect— he turns, reaches out, and slams his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches to a sudden halt, the hum of motion disappearing as the car freezes between floors.

Your eyes widen, a sharp spike of adrenaline shooting through you as the reality of the situation sets in. “What the hell, Javier?” You’re about to cuss him out, to let him know exactly what kind of shit he’s just gotten himself into, but before the words can leave your mouth, he takes two long, purposeful steps toward you.

Instinctively, you move back, the sudden intensity in his eyes sending warning signals through your brain. But there’s nowhere to go. You can’t escape the tight confines of the elevator, your back is pressed up against the cold metal railing. You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as his broad body looms over yours, trapping you in a way that leaves you feeling both furious and breathless.

He’s too close. His chest brushes against yours, and you can feel his gaze as it drags over your face, down your neck, and lower still, lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.

Any insult you were ready to hurl at him gets stuck in your throat. You hate how your pulse quickens, how your breath catches. You can feel every inch of him— solid muscle, tense with whatever storm is brewing behind those dark eyes. 

For a brief, dizzying moment, you forget to be mad. You forget that you’re supposed to dislike him, that he’s the last person you should let get under your skin like this but somehow is the only one who’s able to. All you can focus on is the way his breath fans across your cheek, the way the small space between you crackles with tension, like a wire pulled too tight.

“You think this is some kind of joke?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, making your pussy tingle in ways you wish it didn’t. “You think it’s easy for me to just... shrug it off? Because it’s not. Not when I keep thinking about you, and I don’t even fucking understand why.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that catches you off guard, making you pause to wonder if this really isn’t a game to him.

But you can’t let him see that. You can’t let him know how much he’s getting to you (even though he’s more than aware). So instead, you tilt your chin up defiantly, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And stopping the elevator? Trapping me in here with you? That’s your brilliant solution?”

“No,” he breathes, voice dropping to a near whisper as his face inches closer to yours. “But it’s the only way I could get you to stop running from me.” 

You hate how your stomach flips at his words. Hate how much you’re fighting against the instinct to lean into him instead of shoving him away. Every part of your body is screaming at you to tell him to fuck off and leave you the hell alone.

“Do you know what I think it is?” The words come out in a low, dangerous drawl, the kind that seems to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He leans in, crowding your space, eyes boring into you with an intensity that has your pulse skyrocketing. “I think you’re too fucking stubborn to let yourself have any fun. The idea of me fucking you is enticing, isn’t it?” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that drips with arrogance and dark promises. “Could see it written all over your face that night at the hotel. That look in your eye while I was fucking Lexxie.”

His accusations slam into you, pulling up the exact moment you’ve been trying to bury. It should have been a professional gig, routine even, nothing personal… except that wasn’t the case. Not with the way he looked at you the entire time, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to react.

And, fuck, you had reacted. You felt the heat rise in your face, the way your body betrayed you as you stood behind the camera, mouth salivating, thighs pressing together.

“Javier…” You push at his chest, your hand meeting the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt. The intent is to shove him back, to create some space between you. But the second your palm makes contact, it’s like the air shifts, and instead of moving him, it’s like you’ve anchored yourself to him.

Goddamn him. Goddamn you for your spineless ass, for not being able to follow through on resisting the temptation that he is.

He smirks wider, clearly reading the war going on behind your eyes. “You were shaking,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper that coils around your insides. “Damn near moaning while you watched me go down on her. Rubbing those thighs together while this pretty ass was in my face as she was sucking my cock.” 

His large hand snakes around you, catching you off guard, fingers gripping a handful of your ass and pulling you closer. Your body collides with his, and that’s when you feel it— his erection, hard and insistent, pressing into your stomach. The heat between you flares up to unbearable levels, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, buzzing with want.

“You’re delusional,” it’s breathless but you’re still determined to keep some semblance of control. You squirm in his grip, your body betraying your words, the friction making your mind tilt. “You just can’t stand the fact that, for once, a woman isn’t throwing herself at you. That I’m not kissing the ground you walk on or falling to my knees, ready to suck you off.”

His hold tightens briefly, pulling you even closer, and for a second, you wonder if you’ll be able to break free at all. It’s damn near impossible to ignore the ache building between your thighs at this point. But somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your body twisting away from his until you’ve backed yourself into the far corner of the elevator. 

You can’t breathe. Not properly, anyway. You’ve never felt so on edge, so exposed in such a small space. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep your distance, to reassert control of the situation, but there’s a part of you— dangerous and impulsive— that wants to step right back into his arms.

Javier doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. The elevator is still locked in place, a silent reminder that you’re trapped here with him until one of you decides to relent. His jaw clenches, and you think he’s going to say something cutting, something to tear you down. But instead, he surprises you.

“You’re right.” His voice is rough, but it carries a weight that’s different from the cocky arrogance he usually hides behind. “I can’t stand it.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavier than you expected. There’s no smirk this time, no sarcastic bite. Just honesty, and it’s a fucking curveball.

You weren’t prepared for him to actually admit it. For once, he’s not trying to fuck with you, not trying to win.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

You swallow hard, the weight of his confession making your heart leap out of your chest.

You don’t know what to say, so instead, you just stand there, staring at him, your body buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline, lust, and confusion. Because as much as you want to dislike him, as much as you need to dislike him for your own sanity, you can’t deny the way your pussy responds to him. The way your mind keeps pulling you back to that night, to the way he made you feel without even touching you.

“Get over it,” you snap, cutting him off before he can sink any deeper into this conversation. You don’t need to entertain this further. It can’t happen, and it will never happen. The second you fall into bed with him, it’ll be game over. Javier Peña isn’t just a casual fuck— you know deep down he’d be the kind that wraps himself around your soul and doesn’t let go until he’s consumed every inch of you. 

The problem is, you’re terrified that you’ll let him. It’s why you’re so dead set on not giving in.

You cross your arms over your chest again, as if trying to shield yourself from the strength in his eyes, the way he seems to reach into your very core with just a look.

You try to focus on anything else— on the fact that you still need to get to the bank, then to your apartment, and finally to your bar shift. You don’t have time for this shit, for the endless back-and-forth with him.

But then he says your name.

The sound of it on his lips makes you close your eyes, every muscle in your body tensing. Damn him. It sounds so fucking sweet, almost reverent, and you know if you make the mistake of looking at him right now— if you see those beautiful, pleading brown eyes— you’ll fold.

He says your name again, softer this time, and the way his voice wraps around each syllable has your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse. “Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “Just one taste, nena, por favor.” 

And for the first time since you met Javier— he’s begging. You never imagined that he, of all people, would beg for anything. But here he is, his voice low and thick with desire, pleading with you to give him just one chance.

You blink your eyes open slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that have been ignited by his words. The synapses in your brain light up like fucking fireworks, each one triggering a new thought, a new possibility. There’s a moment— a split second— where you picture it.

You imagine his hands on your body, his lips trailing fire down your skin, his mouth between your legs. The image flashes so vividly, so intensely in your mind, that it steals the breath from your lungs. 

You can practically feel the way he’d elicit things you’ve been trying to suppress. Your legs go weak just thinking about it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, to remember who you are, what this is. 

But your cavewoman, horny brain betrays you— racing ahead, picturing every possible outcome. You can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to let him in, just once. How it would be to let him take control, to let him show you, like he’s promising, just how good he can make you feel. 

You’re already late getting to the bank. You should be focusing on that, on getting out of this damn elevator and away from him, but your body won’t cooperate. Every part of you is ablaze, screaming at you to just give in.

Javier’s standing there, staring at you with those chocolate eyes, his dark brows drawn together, pouty lips parted just slightly as he waits for you to say something. Anything. He’s laid it all out in front of you, leaving you to make the next move. And fuck, as much as you hate to admit it, you want to. You want to let him pull you into his world, even though you know it’ll consume you. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his mouth everywhere, his name slipping from your lips.

But you can’t. 

If you give in now, you’ll never be able to walk away from him, and you can’t afford to let yourself get tangled up in Javier Peña. He’s chaos wrapped in temptation, and once you let him in, there’s no turning back.

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you try to hold on to the last shred of control you have. “Javier,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering between desire and self-preservation. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and for a moment, you think you might just jump.

But then, with every ounce of willpower you have left, you take a shaky breath, shaking your head and breaking the spell he’s woven around you.

“No,” you say, the word barely above a whisper, but firm enough to anchor you back to reality.

His face falls, the fire in his eyes dimming just a little. You almost regret it, almost, but then you remember who he is. What he does. And you know you made the right choice, even if every part of you is berating otherwise.

You stand there, locked in a silent standoff, both of you doing a piss poor job of pretending like you don’t want to tear each other’s clothes off right here in the elevator. 

You’re hoping—no, praying— that he’ll finally let it go. That he’ll stop pushing, stop testing your resolve, and just leave you alone. You’re begging for him to go back to what he does best, to leave you to your job— both of them.

You break eye contact first, glancing down at your watch. You’re definitely not going to make it to your shift on time. Shit. You need to phone your boss and give him a heads up before this gets even worse. But right now, you can’t seem to focus, not with Javier standing there like a Roman statue, immovable and perfect, watching you with that infuriating intensity.

“Now, if you can get the elevator to take us down, I’d really appreciate it,” you say, but the words come out softer than you intended. You hate how small your voice sounds, like you’ve already lost the upper hand, and you mentally slap yourself for it. 

But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and it makes you want to scream. His gaze is piercing, boring holes into your entire existence, and it’s taking everything you have not to crumble beneath it.

“Do you really mean that?” He asks as he brings a hand up to smooth down his mustache. There’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips, like he already knows the answer. “Because everything about your body language is screaming otherwise.” 

When the fuck did he get so close again? He’s right there, towering over you, and suddenly the air between you feels impossibly thin.

“It’s my fuckin’ job to read a woman’s body,” he continues, his voice growing huskier with each word. “And you know what yours is telling me right now?”

Your pulse quickens, your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you can’t find the words to respond. You don’t trust yourself to speak— not when his presence is drowning you in your own body. 

He leans in, lips so close to your ear that his breath almost has you fainting. “It’s telling me that you want it.”

Your stomach flips, every nerve ending in your body coming alive as his curved nose barely grazes your skin. The touch is featherlight, but it sends electricity straight to your cunt. You grip the railing behind you like a lifeline, your knuckles flushed as goosebumps ripple across your skin. 

Javier’s smirk deepens, the asshole clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Stop fighting it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, his hand sliding down the length of your figure in a way that feels too natural, too right. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”

You should stop him. You should. But you don’t. You can’t. His hands are on you now, moving with a confidence that’s impossible to resist. One large hand finds its way to your tit, groping it gently through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your body fails you, head falling back against the elevator wall, your chest arching into his touch. 

The way his hand moves, so sure, so practiced, has your resistance crumbling, piece by piece. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your sensitive skin. “Barely done a thing and you’re already gone.” 

Your mind is spinning, your resolve completely undone as you melt under his touch. Every kiss, every graze of his lips against your neck feels like it’s unraveling the last bit of control you have. His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his erection through his jeans again, the hard (pun intended) evidence of just how much he wants you.

God help you, it feels too good to resist.

You sigh, a low, breathy sound that’s equal parts surrender and relief. His lips trail lower, his hand still groping your breast, and you let him. You let him because you’ve been fighting this for too long, and right now, you just want to feel something. 

Javier grins against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he pulls you even closer, his voice hoarse in your ear. “Told you,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I knew you wanted this.”

You don’t respond. There’s nothing left to say. You’ve given in, you’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces later, but right now? Right now, you’re letting yourself fall apart.

It’s like your whole body just deflates against his, sinking into the solid warmth of him as if all the fight has finally drained out of you. You’re giving him the green light, and he knows it. The grunt that escapes his throat is guttural, and you feel the weight of his palm pressing harder against your chest, his thumb and pointer finger expertly pinching your now hardened nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

“After this,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, “if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone.” His words are punctuated by a sharp tug at your nipple that sends a surge of arousal straight between your legs. Then his hand moves, sliding up to cradle your jaw with a surprising gentleness. He tilts your head so that your eyes meet his, forcing you to look at him— forcing you to really see him. “You have my word.”

You search his eyes, not entirely sure what you’re looking for— honesty, maybe? A hint of something real beyond the heat of the moment? Whatever it is, you can’t find the words to respond, so you just nod weakly, your breath bated. 

Javier smiles at that, a slow, predatory grin, and he leans in as if to kiss you. But you stop him, your hand pressing against his sternum with just enough force to halt him in his tracks.

“No kissing,” you say, your voice more resolute than you feel. “You said one taste, so get to it.” You’re setting boundaries, trying to keep some semblance of control in this situation. No kissing, no fucking— just head. That’s all this will be. He’ll get a taste of you, and you’ll finally get a taste of what all the hype is about. Then it’ll be over, and you’ll go your separate ways. That’s the deal.

His frown deepens, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features, like he’s not used to anyone telling him no in any capacity. But it’s brief, because he’s not about to take the proverbial bone you’ve thrown him for granted. He agrees in his own way, pivoting without protest, his mouth returning to your neck like he’s already forgotten the attempt to kiss you.

Now that the rules are clear, you allow yourself to let your guard down— just a little. It’s not like your sex life has been riveting lately, and truth be told, you can’t even remember the last time a partner went down on you willingly. At least you’re getting something out of this fucked-up little arrangement, and for now, that’s enough. 

He kisses and licks a line down your throat, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive flesh. You sigh, your breath hitching as you feel his hands roaming your body with a confidence that should piss you off but doesn’t. 

His rough palms map out your curves like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. He’s groping, squeezing, learning you in a way that makes you feel like you’re his personal discovery. 

The warmth of his breath, the skill in his movements— it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but respond, your hips shifting, your body bending instinctively toward him when one hand slides up under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast.

He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. Too damn good. It’s almost like he’s a fucking pornstar.

You hate that you’re enjoying it so much, hate that you’re already melting under his touch like some lovesick fool.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs against your skin, feeling the nerves radiating off of you. 

His touch lingers as he reaches the button on your denim shorts, undoing it with a flick of his fingers before pulling down the zipper, slow and deliberate.

“You and these damn shorts…” you hear him say, more to himself than to you. His voice is gruff, frustrated, like he’s been waging a silent battle against his own restraint. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down over your hips, watching as the fabric slides off your skin. You step out of them, standing there in nothing but your underwear, top and sneakers, exposed in ways you hadn’t intended to be when you walked into that office earlier today.

His brows shoot up, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Of course, it’s laundry day. Of course, you’re left wearing your least practical pair of underwear— this skimpy, lacy purple number you hardly ever break out. The delicate string disappears between the cheeks of your ass, and the sheer front does little to conceal the soft tuft of hair just below your navel. 

And he’s drinking it all in.

“Fuckin’ hell, nena,” he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and lust. His eyes flick back up to yours, dark and hungry. “You always walkin’ around like this?” His hands grip your hips, and before you can even formulate a response, he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, taking his sweet ass time, like this is some kind of worship.

“No, I—” Your voice is breathy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “I had to do laundry today…” It’s all you can manage, barely coherent as his lips begin pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee.

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you, his fingers gripping your thigh with enough pressure to leave you keening. You brace yourself against the elevator railing, your body tense with anticipation, your mind a chaotic swirl of logic and lust. You barely notice as the check you came here for flutters to the floor beside you, forgotten.

Don’t forget to deposit that, the reasonable part of your brain chimes in, but you tell that bitch to shut up because Javier Peña is currently on his knees in font of you, about to take you on the ride of your fucking life, and you’re nowhere near strapped in.

His head is tilted up, lips brushing dangerously close to where you want him most, and all rational thought is slipping through your fingers like sand.

He looks up at you then, his dark eyes glinting with something wicked, and your breath catches again. You don’t know how to feel about any of this anymore. There’s a line you swore you wouldn’t cross, but now that he’s right there, so close to giving you what you’ve craved for longer than you care to admit, it’s hard to remember why you drew that line in the first place.

Javier’s lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and a quiet moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow path up your leg, sending shivers coursing through you. “Relax, bonita,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I’ll take care of you.”

You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop teasing, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale as his hands part your thighs wider, positioning you exactly how he wants you. His grip is firm, possessive, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to do to you.

You don’t even have time to dwell on the thought before his mouth is on you, lips pressing a lingering kiss over the thin fabric of your panties. The sudden pressure sends a shockwave through your body, and your eyes fall closed, surrendering to the moment. His tongue teases the fabric, nudging against your already soaked cunt, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the lace. He hums low in his throat, savoring the first taste of you.

“These are so pretty. Don’t think I’ll take ’em off.”

He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric and pulls it aside, exposing you to him completely. The cool air hits your slick folds, a contrast to the heat of his breath as he hovers just inches away. He’s staring, taking you in, and when he curses under his breath, it’s like he’s caught off guard by how badly he wants this. Wants you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as he drags his nose up and down the length of your wet slit. The touch is maddeningly light, just enough to make you clench involuntarily, your body reacting without permission. More of your slick leaks out of your pussy, a response to the subtle stimulation, and you grip the elevator railing tighter to keep yourself from falling with how weak your knees get.

Javier flattens his tongue, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like your entire body ignites at once. You throw your head back, a ragged cry of his name ripping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively, searching for more of him, more of that friction that feels like pure electricity.

He’s not done, though. Not even close. One hand snakes around your thighs, strong and sure. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open, forming an upside-down V, and then he does something so filthy, so perfectly Javier— he spits directly onto your exposed pussy.

The sound alone could get you off, but the sensation is something else entirely. His saliva mixes with your slick, making everything wetter, hotter, and you feel like you’re unraveling before he’s even truly begun. A series of high-pitched moans spill from your lips as he latches his mouth onto your cunt, sucking and licking with a precision that has your entire being quaking.

Lips, tongue, teeth—he’s using everything he has, dragging you deeper into a haze of pleasure where nothing exists but the heat coiling in your belly, tightening with every flick. He’s devouring you, utterly relentless, and it’s too much but not enough, all at once. Every nerve ending is on fire, your thighs trembling as you fight to keep your balance. His grip on your leg tightens, keeping you locked in place, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back for just a moment, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. His face is glistening, covered in your arousal, but his eyes are dark and hungry, never straying from your face. “With noises like that and a pussy this pretty— you’d be a fucking sight on camera.”

His words send another jolt through you, dirty and wrong and so fucking hot that you nearly forget how to breathe. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving faint marks in his wake, before diving back in with that skilled tongue of his. He’s a man with something to prove, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles, zeroing in on your fleshy clit with a precision that makes your head spin.

It’s obscene, the way he’s working you over, all these years spent perfecting this art, but there’s a rawness to it too, a desperation like he can’t get enough of you. You’re soaked, dripping onto his face, and he laps it up like a man starved, the sounds of his mouth slurping against your wetness filling the small space around you. Your moans are louder now, more desperate, each one pushing you closer to that edge where you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.

His fingers tighten on your thigh again, and then he’s dragging them lower, inching toward your entrance as his tongue flicks mercilessly against your clit. When he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you nearly scream. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is enough to send you spiraling, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you arch into him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts when he pulls away to get a good look at your beautiful face and how you look when he’s making you feel like you’re on top of the world. It’s enough to get him to latch onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.

“God, Javier,” you gasp, your voice shaky, barely coherent. You can’t think, can’t form any rational thought, not with the way he’s pulling you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the pleasure.

“Let go,” he growls against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your core. “I’ve got you, nena. Just let go.” 

And with that, the dam breaks. You’re coming hard, hips jerking wildly as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second, working you through it with that relentless mouth until you’re gasping for air, hands clenching at the railing so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped. 

Your vision blurs, your mind goes blank, and all you can do is hold on as Javier takes you on the ride of your life, just like you knew he would.

You don’t know how long it takes you to come back into your body after letting him take the reins for a little. You’re trembling, legs weak and body heavy against the cool metal wall of the elevator. He’s still on his knees, knuckle-deep inside you, lazily curling them as if savoring every last second.

His mouth trails soft, teasing kisses across your soaked panties, and the tenderness of the act startles you, nearly pulling you under again. But then he withdraws his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with an almost obscene groan, tasting you one last time as if to commit your flavor to memory. He carefully adjusts your underwear back into place.

Javier stands to his full height, your leg falling from his shoulder, towering over you. His hand comes to rest lightly on your waist as if to steady you. “You okay?”

You nod, though your bones feel like jelly. Your eyes stay closed as you try to gather yourself, forcing yourself back into reality, back into the woman who doesn’t fold like a house of cards for her co-worker. You bend down to retrieve your shorts and check from the floor, fingers fumbling with the zipper as you button yourself back up. He presses the button to resume the elevator, the gears shifting as you’re slowly carried back to the main floor. 

And just like that, it hits you. It happened. You’ve came on Javier’s tongue and fingers. You swore it wouldn’t— swore up and down that he was nothing more than a nuisance at work, a distraction you wouldn’t let get to you. But here you are, post-orgasm, in a goddamn public elevator, of all places, with the man who was supposed to be just a headache.

“Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again,” you mutter, trying to summon the biting edge to your words, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Javier just smirks, that infuriating glint back in his eyes like he already knows better, but he doesn’t push it. Not now.

The elevator doors slide open with a sharp ding, and the scene before you is worse than any nightmare you could’ve concocted in the heat of the moment. Two firefighters, the building manager, and— of course because why the hell not— Steve Murphy are standing there with varying degrees of shock and amusement.

You can see the moment Steve takes it all in— your flushed cheeks, the slightly mussed state of your clothes, Javier standing just a bit too close to you. His blue eyes narrow, then widen, and then he breaks into a shit-eating grin so wide you could slap it right off his face.

“Well, well, well,” Steve drawls, barely containing his laughter. “What do we have here?”

Your stomach sinks. Not again. 

Javier, ever the cocky bastard, simply raises an eyebrow and slides his hands into his pockets, all cool nonchalance like he hasn’t just been between your thighs minutes earlier. “Just crapped out on us randomly,” he says smoothly, and you want to strangle him for the audacity.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head as if he’s in on some big joke that only you and Javier are the punchline for. And as you step past him, cheeks burning, all you can think is that this will never, ever happen again.

But even as you repeat it to yourself, a small part of you— the part still buzzing from the memory of Javier’s mouth— wonders if you’re lying.

[ragvas]

Friend´s Little Sister

You hadn't seen Stephany, your friend’s little sister, in years. She used to be this awkward, shy girl who'd always be hiding inside her room when you and her brother were talking about university life. But as she grew older, she blossomed in ways you hadn't expected. Standing in front of you now, she was nothing short of mesmerizing. And... She looked... Taller? You definitely didn´t remember her being 5' 9" (175 cm) tall.

"Hey," she said casually, tossing her dark hair back as she adjusted her tight black top. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin, accentuating her large C-cup breasts, but it was her ass that really caught your attention. Her hips flared out dramatically, leading into a rear so round and full that it strained against her leggings. She turned slightly, and you couldn't help but follow the curve of her backside as it jiggled ever so slightly with her movement.

Emma caught you staring and smirked. "You’ve noticed, huh?" she teased, her voice low and filled with amusement.

"I—uh," you stammered, your cheeks flushing red.

"It's okay," she said, stepping closer, her hips swaying. "I know it's… grown. A lot."

Your cheeks burned hotter than a summer day as you tried to avert your gaze from the hypnotic sway of Stephany's enhanced assets. She had always been attractive, but now, she was downright captivating. You felt a strange mix of arousal and embarrassment at being caught staring. "Yeah," you managed to murmur, "It's just... it's quite a... transformation."

Her smirk grew wider, and she playfully slapped her hand against her voluminous ass. The sound echoed through the room like a drumbeat, making it quiver slightly. "You like it?" she asked, leaning in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "It's all thanks to these sweet little blue pills I've been taking. It's supposed to help me, you know, “fill out” in all the right places."

Your heart raced as your eyes darted between her face and her breasts, trying to focus on the conversation while also processing the sudden surge of blood to your groin. The fabric of your pants began to tighten uncomfortably. "I-uh, I mean, it's definitely... noticeable," you stuttered, hoping she wouldn't see the growing bulge.

Stephany chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief as she took a step closer, her chest brushing against your arm. Her leggings were stretched taut over her hips, and the outline of her panties was clearly visible. "Noticeable?" she repeated, her voice a playful purr. "I was hoping it was a bit more than that." She leaned in closer, her breath tickling your ear. "You know, I've been feeling... different. More powerful, somehow. Like I could take on the world with these new... enhancements."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady as you felt her warmth against you. "It's... definitely more than just noticeable, Steph," you admitted, trying to keep your eyes on hers despite the siren's call of her breasts and butt. "I've never seen anyone change so... dramatically so quickly. Are... Are you sure that those... uhm... pills are safe?"

She gripped your arm, and she bit her lip seductively. "Oh, they're safe enough," she assured you, her voice a whisper. "But I'd love to show you the full effects... in my room." With a mischievous glint in her eye, she began leading you up the stairs, her hips swaying more dramatically with each step, her leggings stretching to their limits with every movement.

You followed her, your thoughts racing. The feeling of her hand on your arm sent shivers down your spine. Her newfound confidence was both intimidating and incredibly hot and alluring. "Whh… what do you mean by that?" you asked, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart.

You arrived in front of her room. With a dramatic flourish, she swung open the door, revealing a space that was filled with dancing and singing equipment. Mirrors lined one wall, reflecting the disco ball hanging from the ceiling, casting a kaleidoscope of lights across the floor. A microphone stand and a set of speakers were set up in one corner, while a large dance mat took up a good portion of the floor. The walls were plastered with posters of various pop divas, their powerful stances and fierce expressions seemingly watching over the room. "Welcome to my baby room," she purred, releasing your arm and walking over to the dance mat. "This is where I come to... let loose."

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the vibrant posters and the various pieces of exercise equipment scattered about. Then, you spotted something peculiar on the vanity - a white bottle with bold blue letters reading "MILF MAX." Your curiosity piqued, you took a step closer, reaching out to pick it up. "What's this?" you asked, holding the bottle up. The pills inside rattled slightly, drawing your attention to the exaggerated promise it made.

Stephany turned to you, her smile growing even more wicked. She sauntered over, hips rolling with each step, and took the bottle from your hand. "Those are my blue little secrets," she said, popping the cap open and shaking a pill out into her palm. "One pill a day, and watch the magic happen," she said, her voice echoing through the room. "Want to see?"

You nodded, your curiosity piqued even further. You watched as she placed the pill in her mouth, her lips closing around it with a seductive pop. "What exactly do they do?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to her.

With a dramatic flourish, she swallowed the pill, her Adam's apple bobbing in her neck. She stepped closer, her eyes locked on yours, the intensity in them making your knees feel a bit weak. "They make me grow," she murmured, her hand caressing the curve of her hip. "And not just here," she added, giving her ass another playful slap, "but everywhere."

Your eyes widened as you took a step back, trying to process her words. You felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Everywhere?" you echoed, your voice a bit higher than usual. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes danced with excitement as she stepped closer again, the gap between you and her shrinking. She placed her hand on your chest, her fingers splaying out. "In every way a woman can. And it feels... amazing," she whispered.

You felt her hand press firmly against you, the heat of her palm seeping through your shirt. Her words were like a siren's song, and you found yourself leaning in despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind.

Stephany's breath grew ragged as the pill began to take effect. Her pupils dilated, and a soft blush spread through her cheeks. She stepped closer, her breasts pressing against your chest as she looked up at you with a mix of excitement and hunger in her eyes.

"Every time I take one of these," she whispered, her voice a sultry purr, "I feel like I could conquer the world. And right now, I want to start with you." With a seductive smile, she reached up to kiss you, her soft, plump lips meeting yours with surprising force.

Your body responded instinctively, your arms wrapping around her as the kiss deepened. You felt the softness of her breasts pushing into your chest, and you couldn't help but groan into the kiss. Her tongue danced with yours, and you were totally lost in the moment.

Suddenly, you felt a strange sensation, like your body was being pushed back slightly. You pulled away from the kiss, panting, and looked down to see her body expanding before your eyes. Her leggings and top stretched tauter, straining against her newfound size as she grew from a C-cup to a D. Her height shot up to 6 feet (183 cm). She chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, and placed her hand on her chest, watching in amazement as her breasts grew even larger.

"It's happening," she murmured, her eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to love this." With a wink, she leaned in for another kiss, her body continuing to expand. You felt her power, her dominance, and it was intoxicating.

You couldn't help but stare as her body grew larger, your own desires growing with her. Her breasts swelled, pushing against the fabric of her top, now an E-cup. You felt your own body responding, your heart racing.

Her hand slid up to your neck, her grip firm as she pulled you closer. Her kiss grew more demanding, and you felt your resolve crumbling. "You like what you see?" she whispered, her voice now deeper and more commanding. She took a step back, her chest heaving with excitement. Her leggings finally gave way, tearing at the seams as her ass ballooned to massive proportions. She was now easily 6' 2" (188 cm) tall.

You nodded, your throat dry. "It's... incredible," you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away from her transformation.

Her laugh was a deep, resonant sound that seemed to fill the room as she stepped back further. The fabric of her shirt and bra gave way with an audible rip, exposing her breasts now swollen to a F-cup. She cupped them in her hands, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And it's just the beginning," she promised, her voice a seductive growl.

Her gaze dropped to the bulge in your pants, her grin widening. "Looks like someone's enjoying the show," she said, licking her lips. "Why don't you come closer?" She beckoned with a finger, her eyes never leaving your crotch.

You stepped closer, your eyes drawn to her breasts, now a F-cup, heavy and round, the dark areolae and nipples standing proudly. You felt yourself getting harder, the anticipation building.

Her hand reached out, her long fingers tracing the outline of your erection causing you to moan softly. She giggled at the way your body responded to her. "It's like you're growing too," she said, her voice a mix of tease and awe. "But I'm not done yet." With another popping of the pill bottle, she swallowed another pill, her eyes never leaving yours.

You watched, heart racing, as she grew before you. Her breasts swelled further, now a G-cup, and her height shot up to 6' 8" (202 cm). You could feel the power radiating from her, the very air around her thick with the scent of her pheromones. "Steph..." you breathed, unable to fully comprehend the situation.

"Oh, it's just getting good," she said, her voice now a powerful rumble that seemed to shake the very floor beneath you. Her hand trailed down to the button of her torn leggings, which she undid with a flick of her wrist. The material gave way to reveal her panties, which were now stretched to the breaking point over her newfound size. She stepped out of the ruined fabric, standing before you in just her panties and the shreds of her top.

With another sultry smile, she reached behind her back, her fingers deftly unhooking her damaged bra. It fell away, and her huge breasts bounced, now completely free. The sight of them, so full and heavy, was almost too much to bear. She placed her hands on her hips, the fabric of her panties straining against the pressure of her ass, which had grown so large it was like two basketballs stuffed into a pillowcase.

You stared, your eyes glued to the hypnotic jiggle of her G-cup breasts, the weight of them making your own desires grow stronger. "Steph..." you breathed again, reaching out tentatively to touch the soft flesh.

Her skin was hot to the touch, and she gasped as you made contact, her body shivering with pleasure. "Yes," she encouraged, taking another step closer, her breasts brushing against your chest. "Feel how powerful I've become."

Your hand cupped her breast gently, feeling the weight and warmth of it. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but knead it gently, your thumb circling her nipple. "It's... unbelievable," you murmured, your voice thick with lust.

Her eyes closed in pleasure at your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. She arched her back, pushing her chest into your hand. "It's all yours," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "But don't stop there."

Her hand trailed down to her panties, sliding them down her thick, powerful thighs. She stepped out of the fabric, and you could see the wetness glistening on her skin. She was fully naked before you now, her body a tower of feminine might and beauty. Her ass had ballooned even more, reaching a staggering size that you couldn't even comprehend.

"Look at me," she said, her voice a command that sent a thrill through your body. "Look at what these pills have done to me. And now," she leaned in, her breath hot against your neck, "now I'm going to show you just how powerful I really am."

Her hand guided yours down to her pussy, her fingers slipping over yours to show you how to touch her. She was slick with arousal, and the feeling of her wetness was like a drug, making your head spin. "See?" she whispered, her breath hot and needy. "You can't resist me."

With a growl of passion, she pushed you back on her bed, her massive body looming over you. She straddled you, her swollen breasts hanging down, the heavy weight of them pressing against your chest. Her ass was now so large that it made your legs below her seem tiny in comparison, each cheek round and full, filling much of the space around her with its soft, overwhelming presence. "I want you," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Your hands roamed over her body, exploring the new landscape of curves and power. You felt the heat between your legs as her pussy pressed against your thigh, wet and demanding. "I want you too," you whispered, your voice hoarse with need.

Her eyes darkened, and she leaned in to kiss you again, her breasts enveloping your chest. You could feel her excitement, her desire to dominate and overwhelm you. She reached down, her hand wrapping around your erection, and you groaned into her mouth.

"Mmm, you're so hard for me," she murmured against your lips, stroking you slowly through your pants. "It's like you were made to worship me." She sat up, her breasts bouncing slightly, and began to unbutton your shirt, her movements deliberate and sensual.

With a final tug, she pulled your shirt open, revealing your bare chest to the cool air. She leaned in, her warm breath caressing your skin as she kissed and licked her way down your torso. Her touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

As you felt her warm, wet mouth on your skin, a sudden surge of power filled the room. With a guttural groan of pure ecstasy, Stephany's body grew again, stretching and expanding before your very eyes. She was now a towering mini giantess at 7 feet (214 cm), her breasts swelling to a massive H-cup, the weight of them now unbearable for any mere mortal bra. Her thighs thickened, her hips widened, and her ass grew even more voluminous, the cheeks now so large that they could have easily swallowed a beach ball.

Her movements grew more insistent, her hips started rocking back and forth against your bulge, the pressure increasing with every movement. The fabric of your pants was the only barrier between her flesh and yours, and it was clear she was growing more and more impatient. Her moans grew louder, each one a declaration of the power she now wielded. The pressure of her body was incredible, and you felt yourself getting harder and harder as she grew on you.

Her body began to expand again, her ass and thighs thickening and growing more powerful with each pulse of the pill's potent magic. She grew to a staggering 7' 4" (224 cm), her legs now thick, powerful pillars that could crush you with a single mighty squeeze.

You felt a mix of fear and exhilaration as she grew larger, her massive H-cup breasts swaying with each movement. The fabric of your pants strained against the pressure of her weight, and you realized you were utterly at her mercy. "Steph," you panted.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at you with a grin that was both mischievous and triumphant. "You're mine," she murmured, her hand sliding into your pants to grip your erection directly. You gasped as she began to stroke you, her touch firm and confident. "Say it," she demanded, her voice now a powerful command.

You felt yourself on the brink of giving in to her completely, your body responding to her touch with a fervor you'd never experienced before. "I... a... ah..." you panted, your hips bucking up against her hand.

Her grip tightened, her strokes growing more insistent. Her eyes were dark with lust as she watched your reactions. "Say it," she repeated, her voice a low growl. "Say you're mine."

You could feel the pressure building, both from her hand and from the sheer presence of her overwhelming body. With a strangled moan, you nodded. "Y-yes... Steph... I... I'm yours." The words slipped out of your mouth like a confession you hadn't known you'd been holding back.

Her eyes blazed with power, and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Good little boy," she said, her breath hot and sweet. "Your giant goddess will fuck you now." Before you could react, she grabbed the bottle of "MILF MAX" and popped another pill into her mouth, swallowing it with a grin.

With a swift movement that belied her massive size, she sat up and gripped the waistband of your pants and underwear. With a powerful tug, she ripped the fabric as if it were tissue paper. Your erection sprang free, standing tall and proud before her. She chuckled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Looks like my little growth spurt is having quite the effect on you," she said, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire.

You looked down at your exposed self, feeling both embarrassed and oddly thrilled by her words. Her hand was so much larger than it had been, and you felt like a toy in her grasp. "Little?" you echoed, your voice trembling slightly. "W... what do you mean? You grew so big..."

"Oh, darling," she giggled, her voice a rich, velvety purr that seemed to resonate in the very air around you. "You think this is big?" With a playful smack to her massive H-cup breasts, she leaned in closer, the heat of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "This is just the beginning," she whispered, her eyes flashing with a fierce hunger that sent a thrill through your body.

Her hand slid down to your erection, her touch firm and commanding. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said, her eyes never leaving yours. With a seductive smile, she leaned back, her breasts swaying like pendulums with the motion. Her hand kept stroking you, her pace deliberate and tantalizing. "First, let's get you ready for what's to come," she murmured, her voice a siren's song that made your blood race.

You watched, your eyes glazed over with desire, as her hand worked its magic. You could feel the tension building within you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you reached the peak. "What... What's going to come?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her hand continued its rhythmic motion, her gaze locked on yours. "You're about to find out," she said with a knowing smile. "But first, I need you to be... just the right size." With that, she took another pill, her eyes never leaving your face. You watched in awe as her body grew once more, her breasts swelling to an unbelievable I-cup, her ass reaching a size that seemed to defy the very laws of physics.

Now towering at 7' 8" (234 cm), she was a true giantess, and the power emanating from her was palpable. The room seemed to shrink around her, making her even more intimidating. Yet, there was a softness in her eyes, a tenderness that belied the dominance of her form. "Ready for your first taste?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, as she positioned herself over you. Her breasts, now a monstrous I-cup, hung down, the weight of them seemingly crushing the very air between you. Your body trembled with anticipation.

"Good," she murmured, her eyes glittering with excitement. She leaned in closer, her breasts enveloping your face, the sweet scent of her arousal filling your nostrils. "Now, worship your goddess little man," she whispered, her voice a command that resonated through your very soul.

You felt the weight of her massive breasts pressing down on you, the sensation overwhelming and exhilarating. Your hands instinctively reached out to cup the soft, warm flesh, the feeling of her power making your head spin.

Her body grew even larger, now standing at an intimidating 8 feet (244 cm) tall. Her I-cup breasts had swelled to a J-cup, the weight of them now unbearable for any mere mortal. She leaned down, her huge nipples brushing against your lips. "Suck on them," she instructed, her voice a powerful command that sent a shiver down your spine. "Worship me."

Your mouth opened, and you eagerly latched onto one of her massive nipples, sucking it gently. The taste of her sweet soft skin, the feel of her sexy body against yours, was intoxicating. You could feel her power growing, her breathing becoming heavier.

Her moan of pleasure was a symphony in your ears as you obeyed her command. She arched her back, her breasts swelling even larger in your hands, now a K-cup, as she grew to 8' 2" (249 cm). The pressure of her body was immense, but it only served to fuel your desire.

With a wicked grin, she pulled away, leaving your mouth wet and desperate for more. "You like that?" she taunted, her breasts now swaying with her every move. "But I want you to see what else I can do." She leaned back, her hand sliding down to her pussy, her fingers toying with her clit. The sight was mesmerizing, and you watched, unable to tear your gaze away.

Her body grew once more, the pill's magic working its way through her. Now standing at 8' 6" (260 cm), her ass had reached unbelievable proportions, stretching the very fabric of reality. Her breasts grew to a staggering L-cup, each one heavy and full, the weight of them pulling her torso down slightly. "You see this?" she said, her hand cupping one of her massive orbs. "It's all for you."

You nodded, your eyes wide with amazement, as you watched her grow larger and more powerful. Your cock throbbed in anticipation, and you felt your body responding to her dominance. "It's... incredible," you managed to murmur, your voice trembling.

Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your reaction. "I knew you'd love it," she said, her voice now a deep, resonant purr. She leaned in closer, her L-cup breasts now brushing against your chest with each breath she took. "But we're not done yet." With that, she took another pill, her body spasming slightly with the influx of power.

Her body grew even more, reaching a staggering 8' 10" (269 cm), her breasts now a voluminous M-cup. She positioned herself over you, her legs straddling your waist. With a knowing smile, she reached behind and guided your erection to her dripping wet entrance, the heat of her pussy making you gasp. "Ready?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper. She lowered herself down, her pussy enveloping you in a warm, tight embrace. You felt yourself being swallowed whole as she took you in, her moans growing louder with each descent. "Oh god, you feel so good," she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut as she grew even larger, her body adjusting to the new sensation.

Her movements grew more deliberate, each stroke of her hips sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel her thick, powerful thighs against yours, the pressure of her massive M-cup breasts against your chest as they grew even larger, now an N-cup. She was like a living, breathing sex goddess, and you were her devoted worshipper. The sight of her was mesmerizing, her body a landscape of curves and power. Her eyes remained closed, lost in the ecstasy of her own growth. She took another pill, her moan vibrating through you as her pussy tightened around you. The room filled with the sound of her pleasure, her ass now so large it could have easily filled an armchair all on its own, jiggling with each movement.

You couldn't believe the sensation of being inside her, her tightness and warmth enveloping you as she grew even larger. Each pulse of the pill's power seemed to amplify the feeling, making you more and more desperate for release. You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your balls becoming unbearable. "Oh, Steph... I'm going to... I'm going to..." you managed to get out between gasps.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at you with a look of pure, unbridled power. Her massive N-cup breasts, now swollen to O-cup proportions, swayed with each movement of her hips, casting shadows on your face. A wicked smile played on her lips as she took in the sight of you beneath her, tiny and helpless. She leaned down, her heavy breasts pressing into your chest, her breath warm on your face. "You're mine," she whispered, her voice a seductive growl. "Say it." She took another pill, her body spasming with the influx of power, growing to 9' 1" (277 cm), her ass now so massive it filled the space behind her like a mountain. Her O-cup breasts grew even more, the weight of them now a delicious burden that seemed to press you further into the bed. The room was filled with the sound of her body expanding, the fabric of the bed straining and popping as she grew.

You felt the weight of her body, the pressure of her breasts, and the power of her dominance. The reality of the situation washed over you in waves, leaving you trembling with both fear and unbridled lust. "I... I'm yours," you gasped out, your voice shaking as you felt her pussy tighten around you.

Her smile grew even more wicked as she felt your submission. She leaned down, her P-cup breasts pressing into your chest, her nose almost touching yours. "That's a good boy," she murmured, her voice now a powerful growl. "Look at you, so tiny compared to me." She sat up, her massive body casting a large shadow over you. "Remember when I was just a little girl looking up at you and my brother?" She giggled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, I could crush you both with my giant ass."

Your body was pinned under the weight of her colossal form, your hips desperately trying to buck upwards to meet hers, seeking release. But it was futile, like trying to move a mountain. The feeling of her massive thighs, thick as tree trunks, against your sides was overwhelming, trapping you beneath her. The pressure of her swollen pussy around your cock was driving you insane with pleasure. You looked up at her, her eyes glazed with lust, and you could see the pill-induced euphoria painting a picture of dominance across her face.

With a throaty chuckle, Stephany looked down at you, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and desire. She leaned back slightly, the weight of her P-cup breasts pulling at her chest and began to playfully swirl her fingers around her large engorged nipples. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making your cock throb within her. Her smile grew wider, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Look how weak you are," she taunted, her voice a seductive purr. "You can't even make me move.

With another sly smile, she took another pill, her body convulsing with the sheer power of the transformation. She grew even more, reaching a staggering 9' 4" (285 cm) with breasts that had swollen to a Q-cup. Her ass was so large that it looked as if it could swallow you whole, and the pressure against the bed was now intense enough to crack the frame.

Her eyes never leaving yours, she whispered the question with a smirk. "Do you want me to make you cum?" The question hung in the air, thick with the promise of what was to come. Her hand slid down to her pussy, her fingers playing with the wetness that coated her folds.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words as the pressure built within you. The sight of her playing with herself was too much to handle. "Yes... please... make me... cum," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

Her eyes lit up at your words, and she leaned in closer, her massive Q-cup breasts threatening to suffocate you. Her voice was a purr, a promise of untold pleasure. "Do you accept me as your goddess?" she asked, her hand still working her clit with expert precision.

You nodded, the fear and excitement mingling into something you had never felt before. "Yes," you managed to murmur, the word barely escaping the vice of her breasts. "I accept you as my goddess." The room around you felt like it was spinning as she grew yet again, reaching a towering 9' 8" (295 cm), her breasts swelling to an R-cup. Her thighs were like steel, trapping you beneath her, and her ass was so large that just one of her massive cheeks was larger than your torso.

Her eyes flared with power, and she took another pill, her body stretching and growing even more. Her breasts grew to an unbelievable S-cup, and she was now whole 10 feet (305 cm) tall. She leaned back, her hands on her hips, watching you with a predatory gaze as she began to grind her hips in a slow, torturous circle. "Then worship me," she demanded, her voice a thunderclap that echoed in the tiny space between you. "Beg for your release."

You felt so insignificant beneath her, your body responding to her every move with a mix of fear and lust. "Please, Goddess," you begged, the words feeling right on your lips. "Please let me cum inside you..." The pressure was unbearable, and you felt yourself slipping away, your body a vessel for her pleasure. You reached up, your hands trembling, to cup the undersides of her massive S-cup breasts, feeling the weight of her power in the heft of her flesh.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took another pill, her body growing to a staggering 10' 2" (310 cm) with breasts that had swelled to a T-cup. The room was now filled with the sound of her breathing, heavy and needy, her chest heaving with the effort of containing her new size. She leaned down, her breasts enveloping you, the weight of them pressing you into the bed. "Call me Goddess," she murmured, her voice a dark promise. "And maybe I'll give you what you want."

You felt the pill's power rushing through her, her pussy tightening around you. "Please, Goddess," you panted, your voice a desperate whine. "I'll do anything." Your hands slid up to her giant breasts, feeling the softness of her skin, the weight of her power.

Her grin grew even more wicked, and she leaned down, her massive T-cup breasts enveloping your face. "Say it," she demanded, her voice a powerful growl. "Say you're mine and you'll never leave me."

You nodded, overwhelmed by the sheer power of her body, her breasts pressing into your face like soft, warm pillows. "I'm yours," you murmured, your voice muffled by the flesh that surrounded you. "Goddess." The word slipped out, feeling so right in that moment. Your hands gripped her breasts, feeling their weight, the sensation of being dominated by her overwhelming size sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You felt her hips tense, her muscles rippling like a sculpture of pure sexuality, and then she took you over the edge. Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, your body arching off the bed as she swelled to a massive 10' 6" (320 cm), her breasts reaching a voluminous U-cup.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, she leaned back, her breasts lifting off your face. You looked up at her in awe, your vision blurry with lust. Her skin was flushed, her eyes dark with pleasure. "You like that?" she asked, her voice a low, seductive purr. "You like being dominated by your giant goddess?" She took another pill, her body stretching and growing until she stood at 11 feet (335 cm), her breasts now an enormous V-cup.

Your body felt like jelly beneath hers, the intensity of your orgasm still reverberating through you. "Yes, Goddess," you murmured, your voice shaky with pleasure. "I love it." You watched in amazement as she grew larger, her W-cup breasts now heavy and pendulous, their weight seemingly too much for the bed to handle. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal, and you could feel her power growing with every inch she gained.

"Mmm, I'm so glad," she cooed, her voice a rich, velvety purr that seemed to resonate within your very soul. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she glanced at the bottle of pills. "You're going to love what I have planned for us." She leaned over, cradling your face in her massive hands, her touch surprisingly gentle despite her enormous size.

"Mmm," she purred, pressing her plush, full lips to yours in a kiss that left you breathless. You felt utterly captivated, helpless under her spell. Every movement, every breath she took seemed to draw you deeper into her intoxicating embrace.

Gazing down at you with a look that was both tender and possessive, Stephany smiled. "This is only the beginning," she murmured, her voice low and resonant. "We'll experience pleasures beyond anything you've ever dreamed of."

And as she wrapped her arms around you, her towering form engulfing you in warmth, you felt yourself surrendering completely, ready to follow her wherever this thrilling journey would lead.

-----

You can find more like this at my deviantart. 😊

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/ragvas

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

Ass phat! 🍑🥵

#for science

[bleuside97]

That Night Was Different

paring: richclubowner!Jungkook x lonely reader

genre: one night stand au smut

summary: looking for excitement you unexpectedly found someone who gave you everything you had wished for.

warnings: smut, n*pple play, coochie eating, praising kink.

This month was no doubt one of the most difficult for you. You maintained a stable position in retail that provided you with a satisfactory income, just enough for taking care of your bills. Unfortunately, it was announced to you that due to some financial struggles, the company had to let some employees go, including you. As a strong and resilient woman, however, you refused to give up and started looking for other jobs. But no luck seemed to be on your side, and to make matters worse, your landlord raised the rent. So, overwhelmed by all the stress, you decided to head to a young upscale club called "Dionysus." in Central Seoul, South Korea. To have some drinks to forget all your worries for a while. You've been coming here everyday for a month. The same night every night.

On a cold Saturday night you were sitting alone at the bar. "Alone yet again." Y/n muttered under her breath to herself. Being an introvert for so long has had its benefits but right now you were met with the down sides. In such an uplifted environment you couldn't help but feel drained. You didn't know why but you suddenly didn't want to be there anymore. Your eyes advert to the sixth shot glass you ordered and just been placed in front of you. For a moment you only stare at the alcohol. "You'll be the death of me." You say before gulping the bitter substance down your throat. It burns your esophagus and makes a quick disgusted face before slamming it down on the rough wooden table.

Your eyes gleam with wonder as you observe the recently developed nightclub. With its large dance floor shining brightly in neon lights and illuminated by spotlights and a shimmering disco ball, the atmosphere practically oozes excitement. All around, drunken and flushed bodies move along to the beat of the thumping music; jumping and swaying in a joyous and carefree manner. You can't help but smile along with them. The vibrant, pounding sound resonates within your body, making your heart beat faster. You don't know what it is, but a sudden urge compels you to take a leap of faith and join the others on the dance floor, letting the infectious music guide your body.

The rhythm of the song shifted into a captivating, slow melody. Deliberately, you began to move with a seductive grace, allowing your hips and legs to sway freely, independent of any outside influence. Your arms glided slowly down your body, accentuating every curve. Suddenly, you could feel the presence of another body behind you. His hands lightly gripped your waist, subtly indicating his presence without interrupting your movements. In perfect synchronization, his hips matched your pace, creating an unspoken harmony. Your gaze was drawn to his muscular arms, belonging to a handsome man with an olive complexion. He pulled you closer, intensifying the connection, inviting you to feel his undeniable presence. Maintaining a steady rhythm, you bit your lip, longing for increased tension. His hands on your hips guided you as he turned you to face him.

It was like a fantasy come to life, as you gazed upon this breathtaking man. With long, black locks framing his chiseled features and captivating doe-shaped eyes, he exuded an aura of charm and allure. His tight-fitting shirt showcased his sculpted chest, the muscles beneath emphasizing his strength. Utterly captivated by him, you were unable to look away. Sensing your reaction, he smirked, radiating confidence. His right hand glided from your hip, up along your side, until it reached the nape of your neck, holding you gently but with purpose. Leaning close, he whispered in your ear, "Come with me to my table."

Before you can even consider, your involuntary movements had agreed for you. You nodded your head, following closely behind him amidst the sweltering crowd of flushed bodies on the dance floor. The sensation of being amidst the flurry of the dance floor was something you had suddenly yearned for. The anticipation of what the night would bring fueled your excitement. A magnificent gold and velvet stanchion rope stood as a barrier at the entrance of the elevated section. Swiftly, the security personnel removed the rope, granting you both access. As you stepped into the new setting, you felt a sense of liberation. The section was occupied by individuals most likely of a similar age. Their closed and self-assured expressions hinted at their elevated status. You felt out of place amidst them. Jungkook found an unoccupied seat on the lounge chair and graciously offered it to you. In a relaxed posture, he placed one arm on the headrest of the couch while the other remained nestled in the space between his spread legs.

You settled down beside him, avoiding eye contact. In fact, you instinctively stiffened your posture on the couch as you sensed his piercing gaze. There was a slight eerie silence between you. "May I get you a drink, my dear?" he smoothly inquired, his gaze filled with thoughtfulness. "Pleasure meeting you I'm Jeon Jungkook." He removes his hand from between his hand and offers it to you. You take it. "Y/n." You say with a charming smile. "Y/n..." He holds your hand and kisses the back of your hand. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." The intensity in his eyes was undeniable. "I see something exceptional in you," he replied in a suave, charismatic tone. "To the extent that I believe you are the most stunning being I have laid eyes on in a considerable time." "Don't I feel like a rare gem amongst the ordinary?" you chuckled, amused by your own remark. "How do you justify deeming me special?" He smirked and playfully winked at you. "You are more than just a rare gem, my dear. You are the brightest star illuminating the entire night sky; your radiance is so captivating that it becomes impossible to look away. You are a true masterpiece."

Unimpressed you chucked, "Is this how you're gonna win me over?" Y/n scoffed shaking his head at the lame small talk. He smiles confidently in response. "I'm going to treat you to every wish of yours and to everything you could ever want. I want to show you the time of your life." He gives you another confident smirk. So you're a genie?" You sarcastically asked.

He chuckles confidently, not deterred by your sarcastic tone. "If I am, what wish would you make if I could grant it?" He asks as he leans forward slightly, his eyes twinkling with interest. She backs up a bit at his closer contact but remains quiet. "Oh come on, love," he says mischievously, giving your arm a squeeze. "Let me win you over." He smiles at you. "I know you like me already. So let me prove to you that I'm serious." "Oh. Such rumors don't exist." You turn looking away. He chuckles. "Oh you don't?" Jungkook asks with a sly smirk. "I know you're playing hard to get." His demeanor becomes confident once more. "You're playing this little game of cat and mouse as if I don't know exactly what you're trying to do." He gives you a playful wink to show that he knows you're playing along with him. "Let me be your man i know I can treat you like a princess. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." She gets up all close and personal to his beautiful face, "You know what I want." He looks at her with a mystery to her answer. "A night where I can have blissful fun and forget about my life, just for one night. I wish for the best night of my life."

He looked at her with a sad expression for a moment, a pause before answering. "I've been watching you for a while, y/n, I watch you come into my club every night for the past month. At the same time every night. I don't want you alone in your hard times." You stopped talking and just listened to him. He twists lip ring before continuing, "I'll give you an offer." You immediately shake your head. "Oh I'm not like that. No Thank you, sir."

You get up to leave but he pulls you back down. "Before I can tell you, Let me give me your wish, y/n." Y/n thinks for a moment. Wondering if this is the right thing to do? Who knows what she is getting herself into. Jungkook smirks at the kiss that you place on his hand. "I told you I'd make you feel something," he purrs. "This is just the beginning, love; I plan to show you many nights like these." He gives you a flirtatious wink and holds you closely against him. "Follow me," he says as he leans in close before pulling away. He motions with his hands to follow him and begins to walk out the door, motioning for you to follow him with his hand. Jungkook leads you from the bar and into what appears to be a private suit in his club guarded by security his best men. Before coming to a halt. The security grants him and you access. He unlocks the door with a key. Opening it to a grand suite. You are awfully impressed. "Close your eyes," he commands. "Trust me. You'll love what I have in store for you."

You close your eyes with hands unsure of this was safe. He doesn't waste time before he's kissing you sensually, licking your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your mouth his tongue swirls around yours and fights for dominance as you let him have it. Spending some time making out, getting to know each other with your mouths he begins to kiss down your neck leaving open mouth kisses down your neck behind your ears occasionally nipping at it. He rips your dress and your bra and attacks your left boob. Sucking on your nipple and palming the other one in his other hand. “Hmm? You like this don't you?" His tongue begins to swirl around the nipple. You bite your lip and you have to force your eyes to look at the ceiling. Jungkook’s inked hand reaches down your lower back. His subtle touches leave a trail of shivers, until his pads brush over the slope of your ass. He squeezes your cheek, firm fingers kneading into your skin.

Leaving you breathless Jungkook's hand graze the sides of your body. As you continue kissing, Jungkook’s hands creep bare body up your thighs until your panties are revealed. His hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear.They have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk. With hon many times you see him smirk tonight it makes you want to punch him. "All for me?" He chuckles before removing your panties. He pushes you to the nearest wall and begins playing with your pussy. He spreads your wetness with his finger. Your hand on Jungkook's shoulder squeezing it when he brushes past your clit. His finger dwells there, putting pressure on your swollen clit. Then Jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. He brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. He slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance. Your hips impulsively start to rock, a shaky whimper rolls past your mouth.

Then quickly transitions to his tongue is on your pussy. Using both his spread your cheeks open for better access. His tongue dives between your folds, inciting breathless whimpers from you. His head nudges your entrance. You inhale sharply ready for him inside you. He pulls out his cock out of pants and sdjust the tip to your entrance. Brushing the tip against your quivering hole. Jungkook pushes his cock inside "You can take it.” Jungkook’s hand finds your tit, firmly palming the smooth flesh. “You’re gonna take my cock like the good girl you are, right?” You only cry out in pleasure. He continues to thrusts deeply in you. “Damn, you feel so fucking amazing,” he grunts, a harshness surrounds his tone. Jungkook loses himself. He finds his rhythm and thrusts inside your pussy with sharp motions. “So fucking pretty.” A hand travels over your ass to your spine and back. “The prettiest girl,” he rasps. A smack on your butt was given. The pain leaving your walls clenching around his thick cock. He grops your breasts as you both reach your climax. Collapsing in your shoulder. He whimpers in your ear.

a/n: alot of mistakes and im not sure if i like it too much so i will be editing it alot tmrw but enjoy fkr now

[beiasluv]

okay, funny idea but…

sully boys in the undergarments section w/ u

masterlist

enjoyy🤍

jake (2009)

kinda used to this, but actually not

would eye out the bras and underwear shockingly on the outside but inside he’s down bad like DOWN BAD

would follow you like a lost puppy but when he see something that catches his eyes, he’s gone.

“ooo, what’s this,” and then proceeded to walk away like AWAY.

probably have go on the announcement “jake sully, jake sully, please go to the information, thank you.”

he loves teasing you with those ‘extreme’ undergarments.

probably show you a red, laced, see-through bra and be like, “i think it’ll look good on you.”

sNATCHING that out of his hand IMMEDIATELY

if you tell me this man does not squish the bras, you are LY-ING

he loves squishing them and earning a weird look from an old lady (bless her soul 😭)

loves touching the mannequins’ butts and boobs. LIKE PLEASE- NO

cheeky asf but you love him. he will grin while looking over to you and mouthing, ‘you’re next.’

def give comments on each piece like “ooo, it’s giving disco, but you know i like them laces.” “don’t pick these, it scratches my skin, don’ like it.”

he be into them granny panties 😳 like the laces and stuff definitely turned him on- SIR- JAIL

erm…will borrow your bag to cover his boner😭💀

getting really comfortable, like TOO comfortable, and asking the employee for recommendations. feeling the textures and everything

BEGGING AND THROWING himself on the floor if he finds something super hot for you to try it. making faces like ‘WE NEED THIS’

if you come out of the fitting room, wearing the ones he picked for you, he will be like: “I’M COMING IN. I’M COMING IN!”

would compliment you as you try each outfit for him.

WILL SPOIL YOU AND PAY FOR EVERYTHING

“okay, honey, if you pick this piece, i’ll buy everything for you, JUST that this piece have to come home with us,” 😏

jake loves going to shopping underwear for life

in conclusion, jake spoil you, bbg

neteyam

awkward but teasing boiii

he’s very confident EVERYwhere else (in the bedroom 🤭) but as soon as he step in an undergarment shop, he’s flustered ASF

CAN NOT stop looking at them bras and underwear.

drooling over them, my ass

hold your hand and walking behind you are a must.

can not move his body like he usually can, would just stop functioning 💀 *neteyam.exe has stopped responding*

would whisper seductive and teasing comments to you. “these will look hot on you, but it’s better if they are on the ground.” PLEASE- SIR-

if you wanna go try them on, he’ll cry, for the love of his life, he CANNOT stay alone in the shop. “pleaseee, gorgeous, i wanna come too.”

WILL and definitely secretly look through the shelves for a piece for you 🥺

he knows that you can be sometimes picky with the designs and color, but he love you for that. it doesn’t bother him that you wanted to feel comfortable in something so uncomfortable for SUCH a long time.

imagine coming out of the fitting room like neteyam just standing there like: “i think you’ll like these”

AAAAA, sir, please, let me order one of you

AND LET ME TELL YOU they will fit perfectly and FEELS great (he really knows his job, guys- wait- how did he know your size- 😳)

anyways, will look after your things while you are changing

you are lying if you say he doesn’t try some bras on just to be funny for you. gurl, snatch them OFF cuz he’s getting a little too comfortable in them.

will 100% secretly squish bras. if you catch him doing that, he’ll just say like “it’s for testing how soft they are for you.”

maybe, don’t tell anyone this, but he loves to see the hooks of each bra. definitely doing something appropriate here, neteyam.

overall just love being there to support you and tease you, hehe

lo’ak

before the day you decided to go undergarments shopping, he had to prepare himself 😭

lo’ak will get so nervous about it and asking you do’s and don’t’s. like, sir, PLEASE CALM DOWM

walking in the store would count as his top 10 scariest moments in his life 💀

he’ll clutch on to your arm as if he will die, pressing his body against you and everything

will be so uncomfortable walking around the store 😭 hands clammed up together in front and everything. slow pacing around the store like a grandpa.

WILL not touch everything and only pointing at the ones he thinks will look super HAWT on you

once he calmed down, put your seatbelts on, the show’s about to begin.

WILL 100% get excited by different stuffs. touching everything like

“wtf, these are soft asf!” “ooo, these are scratchy” “they are sparkly!” (yes, but, sir, the sparkles in your eyes are falling out)

getting comfortable, going on an adventure mode, and opening drawers to be surprised by super seggsys stuffs

being a supportive boyfriend and picking things for you

“white or black?”

“white, white all the way.”

“but they are see through”

“exactly.”

would ask question about EVERYTHING and his face will turn red 😭 once he realized how extreme some bras could get, he is red like a tomatooo

WILL ask you to try on some HAWT stuff for him, but will cry if you leave him alone outside

def picking cute sets for you and waiting outside the fitting room, holding your stuffs

if you come out to show in your outfit, his jaw is DROPPED, SMASHED, AND CRUMBLED ON THE GROUND.

“darlinggg, you- I am lost for words- I’M COMING IN.”

in conclusion, a boy holding on to his dear life and fighting demons in the undergarment store.

today’s a great day to eat and take a break! 🤍 take care

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: Trapped Together

12 Works.

nippleslime asked: Know any fics where they are trapped somewhere together? Be it like a small room/box/hole/etc. Much appreciated!

Box by Ansohura ( E | 3,028 | 1/1 )

On a stakeout for a villain with what's been reported as a lust-inducing Quirk, Pro Heroes Ground Zero and Deku find themselves boxed into a dire situation.

[Dubious Consent]

WWAMD? (What Would All Might Do?) by Ciro ( E | 40,655 | 11/11 )

Join us at Endeavour's Annual Hero Masquerade party, as Deku struggles with a too small bunny outfit that Mina was originally supposed to wear.

Hidden in shadows and cursing Kirishima with every breath Katsuki fumes and watches the strange pink bunny man stumbling about in platform heels - fascinated by the sheer number of times the scantily clad man has had to stop and use his fluffy tail to dewedgie himself.

Is anonymity enough for these two to put aside their differences and get their freak on?

Follow our two heroes on a comedic collision course. The tools in their seduction kit include - wedgies, itchy nipples, disco dancing, prat falls and a bunny fan club.

Snowed in Love by sabertoothhousecat ( T | 7,518 | 1/1 )

It’s supposed to be a simple vacation. So of course that’s why Katsuki falls in a fucking hole, gets stuck in a blizzard, and has to talk to Deku again.

Sticky by Hardwood_Studios ( E | 4,172 | 1/1 )

“Deku…” Katsuki hisses in his ear like a snake under some unfortunate bastard’s boot. “…shit! Stop moving!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just — uncomfortable!” Izuku groans against the brick, attempting to push his hips back for just a fraction’s relief.

“I don’t give a fuck, just — nngh!”

“Oh…”

Our tale of two heroes begins in a warehouse in the Chiba Prefecture. Presently, they’re encased in the cement-like substance produced by their targets Quirk: Quick-Stick, stuck to each other and a wall. Katsuki’s chest to Izuku’s back, with but a hairsbreadth of movement available to them in their temporary tomb.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan…” Izuku squeaks, screwing his eyes tight against the feeling of Katsuki pressed snugly against his —

mind the gap by charantonia ( T | 7,361 | 1/1 )

After a prank by Kaminari goes wrong, Izuku finds himself trapped in their kitchen's pantry with Katsuki until they can call a locksmith in the morning. Emotions ensue.

A Fake Boyfriend is Always the Best Wingman by NerdyGay ( T | 4,448 | 1/1 )

Todoroki needs a date that’ll piss off Endeavor. Midoriya is single, his best friend, and All Might’s protégé. Naturally, the pairing writes itself.

Bakugo is not amused.

Or, a fake dating au with a slight twist.

Trapped by GunneroftheRoses ( T | 2,677 | 1/1 )

Bakugo and Midoriya trapped in a box together because of a villain quirk that shrinks at the whim of Shigaraki. Midoriya confronts Bakugo about his strange behavior and learns a secret he's been holding onto.

Trapped in the Heated Moment by Unuotan ( E | 5,455 | 1/1 )

After graduating UA High, Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki accept their first job as side-kicks at their first hero agency…the same agency. Awkward. Then two villains appear to unknowingly…start the ball rolling between them.

Day 1: Teamwork

Closed In by MakeshiftDust ( E | 1,499 | 1/1 )

Deku and Bakugou find themselves pressed up against each other, trapped in a dark, closed-in space. They try to figure out an escape plan when Bakugou gets an awkward erection.

Closeted // BakuDeku by SexyDeath ( E | 3,308 | 1/1 )

After Sero and Todoroki get together, the two friend groups merge. But soon enough, the fighting between Midoriya and Bakugou gets too much.

So the next rational and completely thought out step they take is to shove the two in a closet together, to try and get them to get along. Ha, if only...

Or

Bakugou's masochism comes to play at a very unfortunate moment, causing a spiraling catastrophe of... This

Seven Minutes in Sexual Tension by orphan_account ( E | 5,016 | 1/1 )

“Kacchan, look at me and tell me,” he started with an intense look in his eyes. “Do you honestly think that of all people, I would be looking down on you?”

Katsuki’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Izuku didn’t let him. He felt his insides start burning with some sort of ugly emotion, his eye might’ve even twitched at one point, but he didn’t stop. It felt as if he’d been wanting to talk to Katsuki about this for a while, but he didn’t know how to go about it, and he certainly didn’t imagine this conversation would take place in a cramped closet."

Otherwise known as "Katsuki gets stuck in a closet with Izuku during their trip to the waterpark and neither of them know what to do with the feelings that occur, but they do somehow end up fucking."

[Underage]

FUCK YOU by ColourlessZero ( E | 3,317 | 1/1 )

Deku gets shot in the chest... by Kacchan's cum.

Will he live long enough to graduate UA after catching his childhood friend rubbing one out?

To see the original 2019 list, click here.

[ingravinoveritas]

Why do Michael and David in this both look like they just fell out of a gay club from 1979…

Very first, albeit short, video interview with the cast of Good Omens!

[totothewolff]

The Speed Game of Love

Toto x reader | comedy, crack humor (RuPaul's Drag Race bang), romance, fluff.

Summary: Three fierce queens will race for your love, but only one will win your heart. Could it be the spicy Carla LaTurbo Slayz, the fierce Adore D. Hammer, or the queen of England herself, GiGi Reigns? Or maybe that sexy host could get some! Hosted by the hot and only Toto Wolff. Author's note: It's short and fun. Y/N has the hots for Toto, as usual. Who doesn't?! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts or if you have an idea, here I am."

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

-

From the racing capital of the world is The Speed Game of Love.

And here is your host...

The hot and only Toto Wolff.

(Opening music plays, and the camera pans over the bright and sparkling stage. Toto Wolff is standing there in fullness, tallness, and hotness, just a few steps away from you. As you peek in from behind the entrance, he is looking as sexy as you expected that man to be, dressed in a sluty tight suit, his eyes set on you for a brief second making your knees and other regions jiggle as he starts the show).

"Welcome to the Speed Game of Love. I'm your hot, I mean host! Toto Wolff." he winks at you before moving to his mark at the cue.

(Cheers, gaps, and a loud moan come from the sound effect console as Toto passes a hand on his hair and smiles big and bright straight at the pro camera).

"Let's meet tonight's lucky heartracers!" he gestures with both arms to his left.

(Cut to a shot of the competitors, each one dressed in their best sickening drag looks, all sitting in white bar stool chairs next to each other)

"It's the Queen of tracks! And hearts! Adore D. Hammer!" Toto approaches a fierce-looking queen. "Ready to smash some?" Toto raises his eyebrows as he asks.

"Oh, dear, I'm more than keen for some hammer time!" Adore answers, thrusting with her hips slowly.

She's rocking a sparkly, sluty version of the iconic jumpsuit in neon yellow and black from MC Hammer's iconic "U Can't Touch This" music video, but cinched for the gods along with really high-platform sneakers.

The jumpsuit is embellished with rhinestones and sequins that shimmer and shine under the stage lights. Adore's dreadlocks hung loose around her ears but with a glamorous, over-the-top twist.

Her makeup is bold and bright, with bold eyeliner, vibrant eyeshadow, and a shining golden lip. Her skin is glowing with a subtle shimmery highlight that makes her look like she just stepped out of a disco ball.

Toto gives her a chuckle before moving along.

"Next, Carla LaTurbo Slayz!" He strolls to her, mic in hand. "Miss Turbo, I heard you got some horsepower tonight! How are you, honey?"

(After he asks the question, a loud moan is heard as a sound effect).

"I'm 'fuel'-tastic, Toto!" she blows a kiss to the camera and shows some lil' leg.

She's rocking a stunning, one-shoulder gown made from the finest silk in a rich, jewel-toned red that evokes the majestic flamenco dancers of Andalusia. The dress is fitted and figure-hugging, accentuating her curves in all the right places.

Her hair is a masterpiece; a few strategically placed braids and hairpins add a touch of Andalusian flair.

Her eyes are lined with bold, black kohl and smudged with shimmery gold eyeshadow to create a sultry, seductive gaze. Her lips are painted a deep, crimson red. Her accessories are chunky gold jewelry.

"Up next, it's GiGi Reigns. Is Your Highness ready to conquer this race?" Toto turns to her, bowing first.

"Keen to have a smooth pit stop and a great finish!" an old lady's voice with a thick Windsor accent answers.

She is rocking a look that's equal parts regal and ridiculous. She's donning a velvet-trimmed corset and hoop skirt that's so big it requires its own zip code.

The skirt is a riot of colors, with florals and patterns. GiGi's hair is a marvel; think Elizabeth I's famous ruff but on steroids! Her locks are styled in towering curls that resemble a pompadour.

Her makeup is a masterpiece of over-the-top opulence. Layers of foundation, blush, and powder are applied with the precision of the era, but they make her look old, really old, with wrinkles adorning her features.

Her accessories are an array of fake pearls that look like they belong on the Queen herself.

"Let's start your engines! Close that pit wall!" Toto instructs as the obstructing divider slides from the wall. It looks exactly like a pit wall fence but glamorous, all in metallic pink, blocking the view from both sides.  

As you are about to enter the stage, an empty, small white podium is waiting for you.

"Our wag tonight is from (Y/N's City/Country). Meet (Y/N's profession/studies), Y/N, Y/LN!" Toto introduces you as you step in, smiling at him.

"Mmm, you look good!" Toto runs his eyes all over your body as he approaches you and offers a hand to help you step on the podium.

You feel the heat instantly.

"What brings you smoking gear around here? Did your engine overheat?" Toto addresses you, starting to lean closer to you.

"I'm just looking for touch at this point!" you answer, plain and honest.

(Aww noises come from the sound effect panel).

"Uhmmhu!" Toto gets closer to you than his mark on the floor suggests. He gestures to you to articulate more as he stands by your side, slowly sliding a hand down on your back.

How you react to his touch makes him smile naughtily.

In between a nervous giggle, you explain: "I tried the apps and whatnot, but nothing worked, so my friends suggested I come here to speed up the process. You know, to look for something accelerated, fast-paced." You wink at him, gaining confidence, feeling his eyes traveling down your lips and neck.

"Oh, so you like it fast-paced? Who doesn't like to get their flag chequered hard!" Toto keeps your game of innuendos, flirting with you along.

You nod and bite your lip; he arches his eyebrow slightly.

"Then, you came to the right place!" his voice is deep, and he flexes his arm so you can enjoy the view of his muscles as Toto grabs his mic. "So, Y/N, here's how the game works: You ask the heartracers some questions, and they will try to win this lap for your heart with their answers. When the time runs out, you choose who steps into your podium. Are you ready to race?"

"I AM!" you feel pumped up!

(Engine noises are heard in the studio, indicating the start of the lap).

You read one of your cue cards. "Heartracer number one, finish the following sentence: If I was your car to run me on a race, you would leave me (blank...) at the end."

"In desperate need of a new set of wheels. Oh! I would run you relentlessly from one side of the circuit to the other!" Adore answers, jumping on her feet and doing the iconic MC Hammer moves, passing by in front of the other contestants.

You laugh and nod at the excellent answer. "And you, number two?"

"I would leave you revving for more! You would want me to run you down over and over again around these corners." LaTurbo answers with a very sexual voice, sliding her hand all over her body curves.

"And you, madam, number three?" you ask.

"At the finish line... eventually! I'm a lady of a certain age, darling." GiGi Reigns' elderly voice answers, making you and Toto burst into giggles.

"If it was me, I would have you shifting gears so hard that I would end up breaking you down. But that's me!" Toto jokes, inserting his answer there. "Let's move on to the next question, shall we, Y/N?"

"YES! Let me push that pedal all the way in!" you joke back.

"All the way in?!" Toto asks, now curious, in a high-pitched voice. "Fast-paced and all the way in. Taking notes!" He swaps his cue cards around.

"I think that one's hammer is starting to show! Haha," GiGi Reigns adds, inserting herself into the conversation, bumping Adore with her hand, and both of them taking a small peek at Toto's crotch.

"Please, give head, go ahead, I meant!" Toto jokes with you.

"Based on yourself, how would you prefer to be called if you were a fuel brand?" you ask the contestants.

"Piston Pumping, you gotta keep the hammering for miles long!" Adore gives her answer in perfect branding.

"Fuel-in' Around, just kidding," Carla waves her hand.

"The Lube for The Crown, cause at this age, darling, you need some extra help." GiGi slowly spreads open her legs, making rusted noises, cracking you up again.

"I'd be, Fuel Me Maybe, you know, like tonight, after this show," Toto flirts shamelessly as the game progresses, making it clear that he's interested in none other than you.

"Final question," you go ahead. "Imagine you are an F1 team. Sell yourself to me."

"On the Hammerella F1 Team, competition can't touch us! We are faster than you can say parachute pants!" Adore D. Hammer answers.

"On El Toro Racing, we are unleashing the bull full speed, with fury and passion and with a whole lot of rhythm, ahhhh." Carla LaTurbo's every word gets more sexual somehow as she answers your question, her hands going all over her neck and legs.

Finally is GiGi's turn: "On the Motor on the Bus, The Queen's Royal Racing Team, we race round and round, vroom and vroom, all through the town." She pauses before adding, "But with protocol, dear."

GiGi's stupid answer makes you gag.

"Oh, time is up! Y/N, who do you choose from our heartracers? Number one, two or three?" Toto comes near to you again.

Fuck! He smells so good! That's an arousing cologne.

(A dramatic pause comes before you turn straight at him to give your definitive answer).

"You," you point at Toto. "I choose you!" answering aloud to everyone's... actually... to no one's surprise!

"I'd love to take you for some good ol' laps!" he blows a kiss to you. "But first, let's meet the ones you didn't choose! Say hello to Adore D. Hammer."

"Oh! This hammer would have broken you in half, dear!" she jokes with you as she looks you up and passes along, thrusting the air on her way out.

"and Carla LaTurbo Slayz," Toto again shouts, extending his arm.

"This," she closes her hand at you, moving it around your body, "Has red flag all over," she says, belittling you as she goes out, pretending to be insulted by you rejecting her.

"Finally, GiGi Reigns! Madam..." Toto bows one last time.

GiGi takes her time walking there, making grunt noises as she grabs her back, complaining, making you two lose it.

"I, TOO, CAN COMMAND THE WIND, SIR!" She screams out of nowhere in the most Shakespearean voice, catching you two off guard.

Like GiGi got possessed for a second before she composes herself and gives "royal hand waves" politely as she dramatically exits.

"WHHAAT?" you say, catching your breath between laughs.

"Ready to blow my engine?" Toto triumphantly asks, holding you up like a trophy as he wraps his arm around your waist.

"Against the pit wall?!" you joke around, laughing on his lips, standing next to it.

"Another Speed Game of Love with a... happy ending! To me!" Toto winks. "Good night, everybody!"

(You two wave at the lense before you wrap him in a passionate kiss as the camera cuts to black)

You don't make it further than his dressing room.

The audio crew picks up the loud moans and smashing noises coming from there, as Toto is still wired, and they quickly turn off the equipment.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[thesakuragarnet]

fixation, psychosis, or a secret third thing (love)

Summary: Dabi used to feel so much, but, ever since his accident, he hasn’t felt a damn thing. Not genuinely anyway. Not physically. His nerves are fried. His organs barely work. It’ll be a miracle if Hawks will be able to make him feel anything…

OR

Dabi ends up falling for a hero…Hawks ends up regretting everything.

DabiHawksWeek 2024: Prompt Seven: Songfic

Inspired by: Far Too Young To Die by Panic! At The Disco

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! TAGS BENEATH THE KEEP READING SECTION

Word Count: 5,647 words

AO3 link

Tags: DabiHawks, songfic, angst, smvt, Dabi-typical body h0rror, vom!ting, a little big of canon divergence, doomed relationship, DabiHawksWeek2024, DHWeekNSFW24, swearing, s3xual content, bratty b0ttom Dabi, top Hawks, making out, a n a l f!ngering, gay s3x, a n a l s3x, Dabi cries blood, identity reveal on a first name basis, implied past prostitution, Dabi can't feel pain (or anything on the outside but the inside is fair game), Hawks is a master manipulator but it's not his fault bc the HPSC brainwashed him, Dabi has his manga body type, seduction, trust issues, accidental branding

*******************************************************************

Dabi stands at the harbor under the moonlight, pressing the pads of his fingers into the scars under his eyelids, blood wetting his fingertips as he tries to stop the bleeding. There are a handful of reasons why he’s crying…well…as much as Dabi is able to cry. Whenever he gets worked up, blood simply leaks from his fucked up tear ducts, threatening to burst the staples and welling up into his eyes until all he can see is crimson. It should be painful…but Dabi hasn’t felt anything in years. Dabi used to feel so much, but, ever since his accident, he hasn’t felt a damn thing. Not genuinely anyway. Not physically. His nerves are fried. His organs barely work. The only thing that still seems to be unwavering is his mind and his heart, ironically, considering the world believes him to be an insane, unfeeling killer. Admittedly, he does believe he’s gone insane, plagued with nightmares of his victim’s families…of what might’ve happened if he stayed in that hospital when he woke up from a coma…of what happened on the mountain that fateful night. Dabi barely slept at all anymore, scared of what might be waiting for him when he slipped into unconsciousness. It was only when his body forcibly shut down…or when he felt himself forcibly shutting down that he would sleep…if you could even call it sleeping. Lately though, his nightmares have changed. Lately, they’ve been filled with a certain pair of red wings…and they might not even be classified as nightmares anymore.

Dabi was, laughably, down bad for quite possibly the first time ever in his life. This meeting in particular had proved it. The rush he got from Hawks pulling the feather blade on him…pressing it neatly against his throat in a way that made Dabi’s skin crawl deliciously. It was a miracle he had kept his cool at all, simply putting up the uncaring front he’d crafted over the years. He found his mask slipping ever so slightly, the flirtatious tone in his voice painfully apparent when he nonchalantly pushed away the sword. He could see it in Hawks’ eyes…something wavered. That airtight hero persona flickered into nothingness for less than a moment. Was it reciprocation? Disgust? Confusion? Dabi didn’t know. He’d learned to not use the word hope anymore, so he couldn’t decide exactly what he thought about it. 

It’s part of the reason why he’s crying. It’s that he feels like…if it is…if it is that word he refuses to think…then he doesn’t deserve it. Besides, what if Hawks really is a scummy double agent, and it would all be for nothing. His paranoia pounds against his skull, wrestling intimately with his heart. Why would Hawks ever be interested in him ? His face looks disgusting. There’s the threat that he’ll burst into flames and kill them both if he gets too worked up. He doesn’t even have any education past middle school. Hawks, on the other hand, has been trained by the Commission for roughly seventy percent of his life up to this point, getting the best education, the best clothes, the best doctors…the best…everything. Dabi hasn’t had a proper checkup in…who knows how long. He knew he was clean and that was enough. The only doctor he could really go to was Ujiko…and he’d rather just die than ask him for anything…not after what he almost did. 

Truly…he feels pathetic. He’s never been good enough for anyone…not for his family…not for himself…not for this rotten society…why would he be good enough for Hawks? Why should he allow any sort of delusion into his life when he’d been carefully constructing his revenge? Why should he leave any room for Hawks to throw a wrench into his plans? 

The cold air whips through Dabi’s inky black hair, and he squints up at the constellations, unable to make anything out through his shitty vision. He takes a deep breath before pulling the microphone in the collar of his jacket up to his mouth.

“Ready, Ujiko,” Dabi sighs, the revolting sensation of black muck pooling in his stomach and surging up his throat. Dabi lurches, the dark ooze pouring out of his mouth and surrounding him. For a few seconds, he’s suffocating, until the murkiness clears and he’s standing in the doctor’s laboratory. 

…

…

Dabi’s alone, sitting on the couch of the League’s temporary hideaway, staring at the ceiling, wishing that a certain Pro Hero was sitting on it with him. He can’t get their warehouse interaction out of his head. Was Hawks really so ignorant as to think that Dabi’s incapable of thinking long-term? That’s been his whole shtick ever since he’d been living on the streets, biding his time and contemplating his vengeance. Hawks was supposed to be one of the top heroes in the nation, just a few points shy of…that thing . Perhaps Dabi really had succeeded with his plan, covering up his emotionally reactive nature with a cold and callous facade. 

BZZT! BZZT!

The burner phone on the table vibrates. Only one person has the number to that phone. A sly smirk spreads across Dabi’s face as he grabs it, accepting the call and holding it to his scarred ear. 

“Crawling back to me so soon?” Dabi sneers, prompting an irritated snort from Hawks on the other end of the phone.

“Just wanted confirmation that you’re not gonna pull a little stunt on me again,” The hero’s voice is low and laced with annoyance; it fills Dabi’s veins with a sick thrill. 

“Live and learn, hero . You never could control me. There was never a point. You’re the one that still needs to prove yourself,” Dabi trills flirtatiously into the phone, the tension so thin you could cut it with a butter knife. “But…what happened the other day was…unfortunate.”

“I understand that plans change…I just would’ve liked a little heads up,” Hawks sighs, but his sudden change in tone sets off Dabi’s paranoia.

“You can’t trace this call,” He spits into the phone, his voice taking on a malicious edge, and Hawks clicks his tongue.

“I’m not…just…waiting to see what your next task for me is. I’m too fast for my own good. You know the slogan. Wanna be on top of this.”

“What, so you can betray me faster?” Dabi snaps. 

The silence is chilling. 

“I want you to trust me, Dabi. I’m genuinely interested. If you’ve done your research you know those bastards got their claws into me early. I started my first agency at eighteen. I could’ve been a normal kid with a normal life. Record-breaking is nice…but it would be nicer to be free.”

“That’s what I’m here for…to complicate and corrupt your little bird brain,” Dabi sneers, still struggling to buy Hawks’ words…but part of him desperately wants to. Hawks could just be whispering sweet nothings to placate him…but…what if… Dabi takes a deep breath. One final task to truly prove himself…Hawks has to take a life for Dabi. 

“I’ve got a job for you alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only thing running through Dabi’s mind when he walks off the stage in the basement of the Gunga Mountain Villa is that he wonders if Hawks showed up. Hawks successfully slaughtering Best Jeanist was the hottest thing anyone’s ever done for him…and, if he didn’t think he was attracted to Hawks before, he sure as hell was sure of it now.

The PLF members part, giving Dabi a wide berth as he strides through the crowd, eyeing him warily like he’s a bomb waiting to go off. To be fair, he killed a number of their comrades…but they fucking deserved it. It was kill or be killed…and he just happened to be better at killing. Embarrassingly, Dabi’s eyes light up when he spots a familiar pair of crimson wings through the sea of anarchists. 

‘You’re too attached…’ Dabi’s thoughts degrade himself for allowing his emotions to slip through the cracks. Hawks is schmoozing with a woman…probably a fan with the way she’s acting all giddy. Something in the back of Dabi’s mind tells him to char her where she stands, but he swallows it down. He doesn’t need anyone else to catch on to his thing with Hawks…whatever the thing was…fleeting touches…light flirting…staring a little too long at one another…yet, neither of them had made a real move. 

“You look happy, number two, up to somethin’?” Dabi raises his eyebrow as he approaches the Pro Hero. 

“Nah, man. I was just waitin’ for you,” Hawks chuckles with a bright smile, and Dabi would be lying if he said he wouldn’t burn a thousand innocents to see that stupid smile for the rest of his days. 

“You know…I wasn’t even sure you were gonna show,” Dabi mutters as they make their way through the crowd. Hawks is walking close enough to Dabi that their hands slightly brush against one another, but Dabi barely even registers it. 

“Of course I’d show up for you ,” Hawks smirks, batting his eyelashes enough for Dabi to notice, regrettably making his heart skip a beat. 

“Don’t flatter me,” Dabi mutters tersely as they reach the doors leading to the exit corridor. 

“C’mon, Dabs. You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” Hawks whispers, just loud enough for Dabi to hear. “Why don’t we move this conversation to your bedroom?”

Dabi nearly chokes on his own spit, completely caught off guard by Hawks’ forwardness as he stops in his tracks. Sure, Hawks could just be seducing him for intel, but goddamnit if Dabi didn’t want him on top of him right now. Even if he couldn’t physically feel anything…Dabi at least wanted him to try . If he would just try, then it would be enough. It would be more than anyone else had ever done for him. He feels pathetic…pathetic for even letting these types of thoughts enter his brain…pathetic for romanticizing the idea… He’s supposed to be focused on one goal and one goal alone. Hawks isn’t a part of his plan…but…maybe…

“Hello? Dabi?” Hawks chuckles, waving his hand in front of the villain’s face. Dabi blinks, mouth dry and throat scratchy, zoning back into the world. 

“Why?” The word falls from Dabi’s lips, full of confusion and apprehension. Why would Hawks want him if it wasn’t for intel? His body…he hasn’t… Dabi swallows, painfully aware of his own breathing pattern as memories come fluttering back to the front of his brain…memories that he’d pushed down. Before the league…after he woke up…living on the street…what he had to do just to get enough money for food… Sex with Hawks didn’t seem like it would mirror those memories though… Sex with Hawks sounded gentle… It sounded like he wouldn’t be treated like a toy. It sounded like Hawks would take care of him…and…isn’t that really one of the things that he’s always wanted? To be taken care of? For someone to look at him? For someone to make him feel like he’s worth it?

“Because you’ve got a thing for me…and I’ve got a thing for you? Unless I’ve misunderstood something. Thought most of your talk was flirty…even if it was on the meaner side. Why don’t we celebrate your promotion, lieutenant ,” Hawks shrugs with a cheeky smile, and Dabi doesn’t know what to think. Surely, he’s not that easy to read. No one else has managed to see through him…until now. Was he really even trying to hide it? Was he really staring that much? He’d be an idiot not to take this chance. It’s not like anyone else will ever want to be with him anyway…hell…Hawks might change his mind, too. Dabi looks around, making sure that they’re not being watched before grabbing Hawks’ wrist and pulling him behind a pillar.  

“Hawks…I need you to know something…if…if we’re really gonna do this,” Dabi mutters, trying to piece together his thoughts appropriately. 

“Hm?” Hawks hums, raising an eyebrow, waiting for Dabi to continue. 

Dabi speaks incredibly vaguely, omitting names and locations and time frames, giving an extremely watered-down version of the state of his body and why. He also explains that it’ll be a miracle if Hawks will be able to make him feel anything at all...that his inability to feel physical pain also translated to an inability to feel physical pleasure. He hates the look in the hero’s eyes…he doesn’t want pity…but…there’s also clear determination in his gaze.

Before Dabi can open his mouth, Hawks is kissing him. 

It’s such a strange sensation. He can’t feel the kiss…not really . Not the soft, tender kiss that Hawks gently presses to his lips. He can’t feel the hand that’s cupping the side of his face, just a ghost of a sensation that might’ve happened. Dabi’s eyelids flutter closed, and he attempts to kiss Hawks back, moving his lips in a way that he thinks is right…still…he practically feels nothing physically. That is…until Hawks licks deliberately into his mouth. Hawks’ warm tongue meets Dabi’s hot one, and…he can feel it; the villain eagerly jabs his tongue, sliding against Hawks’ and going further into his mouth. Hawks nearly yelps when Dabi starts practically tongue-fucking his mouth, the stitches in his tongue brushing against Hawks’ lip as Dabi traces his molars. Hawks groans…a sound that Dabi immediately becomes addicted to, and Dabi wraps his arms around the hero, grasping at the back of his jacket and pulling him close.

Finally, they both come up for air. 

“Fuck, your tongue’s long,” Hawks snickers, wiping the spit from his lips with the back of his gloved hand, and Dabi swears he feels blood rushing to his cheeks and his groin. Despite his fears, Hawks has at least turned him on…which is a start. He wants more …more of this animalistic sensation that he’s gone his whole life without. He wants the electricity of mutual worship and raw pleasure. 

“Let’s get outta here, birdie.”

…

���

Dabi didn’t care who saw them. Not anymore. He practically dragged Hawks up staircase after staircase, through the halls of villa, eventually through his door before slamming and locking it behind them. 

“Gotta ask. You clean?” Hawks clears his throat as he slips out of his jacket, draping it over the chair at Dabi’s desk. 

“Yeah…you?” Dabi mutters uncomfortably, thankful that he was able to speak truthfully. He follows Hawks’ lead, letting the conductor cuffs of his jacket fall to the floor.

“Course I’m clean. HPSC regulations,” Hawks replies curtly, and, then, he’s all over the villain once again. 

This time, it’s Dabi who moans, wanton and needy as his tongue massages Hawks’, and the two manage to sloppily kick off their shoes as the hero walks the villain backward until they’re both falling onto his bed. Dabi’s fingers run through Hawks’ hair, pulling him as close as humanly possible as Hawks’ hands grip the scars on his shoulders. 

“Lube?” Hawks murmurs breathlessly between kisses.

“Nightstand drawer,” Dabi answers into Hawks’ open mouth, tongues intertwining. Dabi feels the faint wind from Hawks’ feathers, hearing the opening and closing of a drawer in the darkness. 

Dabi sharply inhales when he feels Hawks’ hands at the hem of his shirt. How is Hawks going to react to his patchworked body of skin that doesn’t even belong to him? I mean…yeah, he’s seen his arms…but…the rest of him? Dabi certainly didn’t have Hawks’ body…with all his curves of muscle that Dabi had seen in a swimsuit magazine once. Dabi hated how he looked…he hated seeing himself in the mirror…a modern-day Frankenstein, only recently having enough to eat to put some weight on his formerly skeletal frame. By comparison, Hawks was a Greek god…though compared to anyone , that metaphor would still suffice. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he never noticed Hawks freeze when Dabi flinched. 

“If you’re not comfortable we can stop,” Hawks murmurs reassuringly, letting the pulled fabric fall back on Dabi’s pale lower stomach. The sentence almost makes Dabi sob, the gentleness in Hawks’ voice…it’s almost too much. Dabi isn’t used to anyone being gentle with him. 

“I want this,” Dabi rasps, the dull throbbing under his eyes starting up again, blood threatening to seep through.

Hawks smiles, eyes sultry and seductive. Tenderly, he lifts up Dabi’s shirt, mindful of the staples, avoiding snagging; when the last of it lifts off of Dabi’s head, a few feathers send it over to the chair with Hawks’ jacket. Dabi holds his breath, waiting for Hawks to comment about his body…waiting for his lips to curl and his nose to wrinkle and for him to walk away and pretend this never happened.

Instead, Hawks’ fingertips carefully trace over Dabi’s scars that run between his pecs and stomach, like he’s memorizing a map. 

“You’re beautiful,” The hero whispers, and the muscle beating in Dabi’s chest twists. Dabi reaches around Hawks’ neck, unclasping the button above his wings that holds his top on. Hawks grins before stepping off the bed to unhook his belt and pull off his pants, which is when Dabi realizes that his top has been a leotard this whole time. In his aroused state, he fumbles with his own belt to get his pants and boxers off, and, when he’s finally successful, Hawks is on top of him again. The Pro doesn’t even bat an eye at the obvious skin grafts or the healed stitches on his dick that didn’t need staples…he doesn’t make fun of him when he sees the scars that border stretch marks on his thighs and lead down to his ankles. Hawks’ gaze is full of devotion…full of emotions and words that Dabi doesn’t think he deserves. And yet…here they are…vulnerable…skin-to-skin. Hawks mouths at Dabi’s neck, sinking his teeth hard enough into his skin for Dabi to be aware of it, and the whimper that bursts from his throat is more than embarrassing. Dabi’s face flushes, unable to fully grasp the heat of Hawks’ body pressed against him…unable to sense the way his hands dance up and down his sides…or the way his lips caress the scars. Dabi’s too focused on their staggered breaths to hear the subtle squeeze of lube on Hawks’ fingers.

The moment Hawks slips a finger inside him, Dabi’s putty in his hands, moaning and groaning like a bitch in heat as he flexes against the slow roll of Hawks’ knuckle, trying to get more friction. His insides…there’s sensation there…an overwhelming amount compared to his outsides. He’s inconsolable, mouth agape, blood threatening to spill beneath his eyes as he tries not to cry from the pleasure. He didn’t know sex could feel this good…and fuck did he feel good. It felt personal…it had meaning …things that Dabi desperately craved. 

“You’re so gorgeous like this, Dabi,” Hawks croons, lube dripping from the villain’s hole as the hero continues to pump his finger in and out. The response is only a weak groan that’s halfway between a gasp and a sob as Dabi’s arms grab at Hawks’ neck, pulling him down for a filthy kiss. Hawks’ eyelids flutter shut as he obliges to Dabi’s greedy gesture, slipping his tongue into the villain’s mouth, tracing his scarred bottom lip. Dabi, out of practice and overwhelmed, practically sticks his tongue down Hawks’ throat, whimpering and silently pleading for more. He wanted to feel more. It was heaven to finally feel …and for the sensations to be ecstasy. 

“You want another one?” Hawks whispers, voice sweeter than nectar, and Dabi nods, wincing as the hero coaxes a second finger inside. The stretch is foreign, mildly uncomfortable, but Dabi’s so used to being numb that he doesn’t care. Hawks delicately curls his fingers, the rhythmic motion making heat coil in the pit of Dabi’s stomach…heat that is far different from the fire he’s used to. Dabi cries out as his muscles relax, allowing another finger to disappear inside him. To Dabi, hours have passed, maybe even days, time no longer has any meaning as his tongue swirls around Hawks’, sucking on his bottom lip as their heated breaths fill the night air. Hawks whispers soft praises between slutty lip locks, comforting Dabi all the while until the pain resolves and pleasure pulses through the villain. Hawks takes note of how much the muscle gives and decides to carefully pull his fingers out, leaving Dabi practically writhing beneath him, half-hard for the first time in who knows how long. 

Hawks’ eyes flutter shut, head tilting back and giving Dabi a full view of his pulsing jugular as he smooths lube over his erection. Feathers gently spread Dabi’s legs, pushing them up so Hawks can get a perfect view of his hole as he prepares to slip inside.

“Wait,” Dabi blurts, heart pounding and blood roaring in his ears. 

“Having second thoughts?” Hawks raises his eyebrow.

“Touya.” The name leaves Dabi’s lips before he can take it back. It’s too late. 

Hawks cocks his head, confused. Dabi can’t turn back now. 

“My name…My real name. It’s Touya. You can…you can call me Touya,” Dabi reveals, his voice quivering. 

The corners of Hawks’ eyes…usually so sharp, focused, and calculated, seem to soften. 

“Mine’s Keigo.” Too late for Hawks to take back the secret that the Commission would severely punish him for leaking. It felt…right. It felt right to finally speak it aloud…and it felt right to exchange this secret with Dabi…sanity be damned. 

“Keigo…that’s cute,” Touya smiles, relief washing over him. They’ve both shared something intrinsic. Something precious. It makes Touya feel…safe. He can’t remember the last time he actually felt safe. 

Breath hisses through Touya’s gritted teeth as Keigo’s tip slowly stretches him open, pain mixing with undeniable pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Touya whines, hating how stupid his voice must sound all twisted and submissive, but Keigo is intoxicated by it. Inch by inch, Keigo pushes inside, punching the air from Touya’s lungs until they’re skin-to-skin.

“Just breathe,” Keigo mutters reassuringly, letting the villain’s body get accustomed. Touya feels so… full . That’s the best way he can describe it. He feels…grounded…which is saying a lot considering most days he feels like a vengeful spirit floating through purgatory. At the same time, Keigo tries not to swoon at how hot Dabi’s insides feel wrapped around his cock.

Dabi’s dick twitches, his chest rising and falling, mind numb and yet so alive all at once. His brain is fuzzy, drowning in pleasure as he swallows hard, taking in all of the new ethereal sensations floating through his body, feeling the pain ebb.

“I’m ready,” He rasps, saliva pooling in his mouth as Keigo’s hips rock, and Touya winces at the friction. 

“Easy, baby,” Keigo purrs, and Touya’s brain melts at the pet name. 

“ Keigo ,” He moans his name without thinking, and the hero almost disintegrates from the raw emotions that surge through his body upon hearing that word spoken in that voice. 

“Oh, Touya, ” Keigo groans, his tone mimicking the villain’s as he carefully digs his fingers into Touya’s unscarred hips as he grinds, watching his cock vanish and reappear over and over and over again. His golden eyes lift up, meeting Touya’s glittering turquoise, and, frankly, he thinks Touya looks angelic right now, blissed out with flushed cheeks, sweaty and uncoordinated and…gorgeous. 

Hawks fully assumed this approach to Dabi would end in senseless fucking…chasing pleasure selfishly…but he was eighty-five percent sure they were genuinely making love right now. Dabi desperately grabs for Hawks, fingers finding purchase and sinking fingernails into his thick biceps.

“Can we ~ fuck~ can we kiss - ah- please?” Touya’s broken voice practically begs, and he can’t believe he’s fucking resorted to begging but if he doesn’t taste Hawks’ tongue soon he might just explode. The request makes Hawks’ heart flip in his chest…he’s never reached this level of intimacy with anyone before…and it’s with Dabi of all people? Keigo dips down, never once breaking his sensual rhythm of rolling his hips as his lips meet the villain’s. 

Touya gasps into the kiss, hands reaching up to tangle in Hawks’ blonde locks, holding him so he can’t break free. Touya’s inhumanly long tongue slithers into Hawks’ mouth, tracing his soft palate and massaging his tongue before he pulls away with a cry as Hawks changes the angle. Keigo delicately touches Touya’s prostate with his tip, and Touya’s thighs shake feebly. 

“You feel so good , Touya,” Keigo huffs, face inches away from the villain. They lock eyes once again, the eye contact stabbing through their souls. The praise goes right to Touya’s cock, which would be painfully hard if Touya could even feel it. His insides feel like they’re on fire with desire…ecstasy boiling in his veins like a raging inferno. He didn’t know these types of sensations could even exist…especially for him. He grabs onto Keigo, palms splaying in the space between his wings, fingernails scratching red lines against Hawks’ back. The heat coils in the pit of his stomach…and then…Touya feels his emotions feed into his Quirk. 

“Not safe…gonna… hah~ah! Oh fuck, I’m gonna burn you!” Touya warns, red blurring his vision as he feels the flames prickling beneath his skin. 

In Hawks’ mind, he has to let him do it. If he wants Dabi to trust him, he has to let him do it. His Achilles’ heel…this is quite possibly the most dangerous thing he’s ever done. He’s going to risk his wings catching on fire…all to ease the process of getting as much intel as possible. After this, he doubts Dabi will let him out of his sight much. Not that Hawks wasn’t enjoying this. Dabi was attractive…to Hawks at least. Even if the majority of it was for show, Hawks was into Dabi…at least a little bit. Enough for him to feel like he's fucking with feelings involved...enough for him to tell him his first name. 

“It’s fine,” Hawks chokes out, his languid thrusts rhythmically slamming into Dabi. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Touya sobs into his ear, and he can’t even believe those words are coming out of his mouth after everything he’s done. He can’t fathom the fact that he doesn’t want to hurt Hawks. The hero blinks, abruptly taken aback; if anything, he’d assumed Dabi was a sadist. 

“It’s okay,” Keigo grunts, and that’s all Dabi needs to hear before he’s uncontrollably “crying”, rivers of red pouring from his lower eyelids and out from underneath the scars in his eyes. The smell of blood catches Hawks off guard, but Dabi had warned him about this…about the state of his body. 

Touya completely loses his composure when he comes, hips stuttering, legs clamping tightly against Hawks’ waist, palms igniting in searing heat in the space between Keigo’s wings. Dabi gasps, trying his best to turn the heat down and quiet his Quirk, more bloody tears streaking down his face when he hears Keigo stifling anguished curses. 

Keigo keeps going, fucking Touya through his orgasm, pulling moan after moan from Touya’s throat until the climax shoots lightning down his spine and into the villain. 

The fire stops...the sound of sizzling skin fills the air. 

When Hawks pulls out, the emptiness almost throws Touya into a pit of despair, and blood seeps out of his eyes for the millionth time that night. He shudders, feeling like that lost little kid on the streets again…alone. Almost immediately, Hawks' wings come cascading over the two of them, encasing Dabi in a crimson cocoon…safe…and intimate. His heart stills…the memories drift away…his mind settles. The sudden calm he’s experiencing…merely at his touch…There’s no other possible explanation. Dabi’s in love…with a hero . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four months later, Keigo Takami finds himself unable to sleep. Ironically, he’d been sleeping in Dabi’s bed just fine, vulnerable next to one of Japan’s most wanted. It felt…wrong. What he is doing is wrong. He knows it in his heart and his gut…but…he can’t turn back now. Killing Twice is going to be the second hardest thing Keigo will ever have to do…the first will be betraying Dabi’s trust. Trust that was so painstakingly hard to earn…trust that Dabi probably would never have in anyone else again…and it would be all Keigo’s fault. 

His duty is more important than such trivial things like feelings…that’s what the HPSC has taught him. But…a part of him…a part of him has grown soft. It was what he had silently been afraid of, though the Commission leader reassured him that they thought he was the one person who could do it. They told him to get information and trust by any means necessary…even if it meant sleeping with Dabi. After all, he was one of the only people they couldn’t find any intel on…what better way to get closer ? 

Originally, Hawks was disturbed by the thought. The idea of sleeping with a villain …someone who’s stolen innocent lives for his own sick and twisted ideals…ideals that solely focused on burning everything Hawks stood for to the ground. But…as time went on…he felt like he got to know Dabi better...especially once the dam broke, and Dabi spilled. Unconsciously, he was humanized in Hawks’ mind…no… Keigo’s mind. Keigo knew bits and pieces of his past…and Keigo knew his first name. The only leads he had to go on…but…he hadn’t shared them yet. It felt…wrong. Once again. On the other side of the coin. It would be wrong for him to divulge intricate pieces of information that weren’t pertinent to his mission. Keigo’s morals tended to get the best of him when he found loopholes. Because he also knew Dabi as a person now. He knew he hated fish. He knew what side of the bed he preferred to sleep on. He knew what his favorite constellation was. He knew the villain intimately…which he had never planned on. 

Keigo sits up in bed, turning to look at Dabi’s sleeping form. He’d found it was easy to tire Dabi out after an orgasm or two; Dabi even said it made him less likely to have nightmares, but that might’ve just been bullshit. 

Tomorrow…the war begins. Tomorrow…he has to break Dabi’s heart. Keigo feels his chest tighten and his throat close. Oh, he’s in too deep. He’s proving the Commission leader wrong…he isn’t perfect. 

Dabi stirs, grumbling curses as he sleepily blinks awake, roused by Keigo’s soft stifled sobs. Keigo hurriedly starts wiping away tears; he can’t be weak in front of Dabi . Especially if they’re going to potentially kill each other tomorrow. Oh God…the thought of killing Touya ? Tears silently stream down the hero’s face. 

“Are you…are you crying?” 

The question cuts through the air like a knife. 

“Bad dream.”

You could hear a pin drop in Dabi’s bedroom. Keigo thumbs away his tears, but they keep coming. The hero pulls his knees to his chest, putting his head down. 

“Hey, uh…I don’t give a shit if you cry…I used to be a big crybaby before my tear ducts got fucked up,” Dabi scoffs, using self-deprecation to ease the tension as he props himself up on his elbows, trying to catch Keigo’s silhouette in the thin rays of moonlight that pour in through the window. Touya takes a deep breath, sitting up beside Keigo before apprehensively putting the palm of his hand in the space between Keigo’s wings, rubbing the scarred shape of his handprint from their first time. It felt disgusting to care, but Dabi couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The motion of Touya rubbing his back almost makes Keigo cry even harder. He’s going to lose this forever. He’s going to absolutely destroy Touya. He has to. He has no choice; he doesn’t want that bright future he’s always envisioned to be snuffed out by the PLF’s plans. If he doesn’t kill Twice…so many lives will be lost…so many innocents…Keigo’s heart isn’t worth that price. Keigo isn’t worth that price. Keigo can’t see through the tears and the shadows, and he doesn’t know how he’s not openly losing it. He’s sitting there like a statue…eerily still. 

Touya, half-asleep and completely out of his fucking mind, decides the best way to distract Keigo is to say:

“Hey…uh…this might be a bad time…but…I want you to know…that…I lo-”

'Fuck .'

That does it. Hawks has to completely shut Keigo down. The tears stop flowing. He can’t let his mission be compromised. He has to stick to his guns…stick to everything the Commission has driven into him since he was a child. Before Dabi can finish his sentence, Hawks turns to face him…and kisses him. 

For once …Dabi feels everything. Touya feels the passion in the kiss. He feels how desperately Hawks clings to him, sucking on the unburned flesh of his top lip, gently tracing Dabi’s tongue with his own, teeth clicking together. Touya kisses him back, fingers fluttering through feathers, and they fall back onto the pillows. 

One last kiss…one last kiss while they’re far too young to die…but they just might kill each other in the morning…

[jonny-stims]

Okay, so my next job will be “Witness of the Gay Agenda Via Disco Elysium,” thank you I’m already doomed by the narrative and the sweet seductive puff of Kim Kitsuragi’s bomber jacket.

[shippergirl121fic]

Thank you @blue-disco-lights for this weeks @galladrabbles prompt: Muscle.

Ian watches Mickey doing pull-ups. His muscles flex and Ian can’t take his eyes away from his husband. It’s crazy how much time has passed. 

The first time they were here together was when Mickey got out of juvie. 

Mickey grunts and jumps onto the ground, smiling as he stands next to Ian, looking at his husband. 

“You look really hot doing pull-ups,” Ian says with a seductive tone. 

“That turned you on, huh? Wanna fuck here for old times sake?” 

Ian smirks and turns Mickey around, standing behind him as he bends him over. Like the good old times.

[jd-mp3]

In honour of his birthday, here's round 3 of pick a Pinterest!