#she meant my body temperature

[be-bisexual-eat-hot-chip-and-lie]

“you’re a frigid bitch” - @darcyfangirlsfrequently

after i open the doors to my house

and lend her my pajamas

and loan them my squishmallows

and brew her tea

[kitten4sannie]

imprint

pairing: werewolf! mingi x hunter! reader (fem)

genre: fluff, romance, smut

summary: you seemingly end up biting off more than you can chew upon discovering that the beast you hunted down for dinner is not what it seems.

w.c: 4.5k (more plot than smut this time hehe)

warnings: needy soft dom! mingi, sub! reader, pet names + praise only (shocking ik), pheromones mentioned, possessiveness, kissing, groping, tit play, spit + drool bc wolf mingi is a messy boy <3, mingi eats out reader like she’s his last meal 🫶🏼, SIZE KINK,,, feral unprotected sex, knotting <333, bulge kink/cum inflation, breeding kink ofc

a/n: IT’S FICTOBER TIME BITCH LETS FUCKING GOOO 🗣️ i am fashionably late ~ but i have come here to humbly offer you lovestruck werewolf mingi 🐺 <3 this is the softest my fictober stories will get btw lol it’s gonna be depravity from here on out ^^ oh and i’m sorry if this fic seems disjointed in any way,, i have a lot on my mind these days but regardless i hope you enjoy ~~

pssst: thank you so, so much for 5.5k followers !! it’s honestly insane to me and i still can’t fathom it hehe but the support and love means so very much to me <333

song rec: say - keshi

fictober 2024

You knew better than to hunt at night, but your rumbling stomach begged to differ. The evening air was frigid, sitting heavily inside your lungs each time you regrettably breathed it in, your hefty pelt only doing so much to keep you safe from the powerful winds that continually blew through the vast forest around you. You pulled the hood of your pelt down for a moment, the familiar sounds of wildlife finally making their way to your now exposed ears, though a freezing breeze made its mark on the soft flesh of your rosy cheeks and nose. You bit into your chapped bottom lip, surveying your surroundings for something you’d be able to feast on once you were back inside the safety of your cabin, thanking the gods for the decent visibility you had from the full moon above. 

The longer you sat there in silence, your body never growing acclimated to the fierce winter temperatures, you began to fall susceptible to exhaustion, the kind that had sunk its way deep into your bones in the same way your loneliness had for years at a time, feeling so heavy you retired from your once rigid stance and slumped down against the oak tree behind you. A few winks of sleep couldn’t possibly hurt you, not when you were quick to rise and fight if need be, your trusty bow and arrow at your side, as well as a pocket knife always sitting in its holster at your hip. You would be up as soon as you had the strength to open up your eyes and go on. 

You eventually woke up to the sound of howling. It had been so distinctly powerful that it was most likely produced by a large wolf, perhaps the leader of a pack. It was then that the culprit of the noise stalked past a few nearby trees and bushes, its dark shaggy coat leaving it virtually impossible to see due to the way it blended in so seamlessly. Leaving abnormally big paw prints behind in the ground below, it slowly paced back and forth in front of you, still quite a distance away from you, but getting closer and closer with each step it made, its large brown eyes piercing right through yours and seemingly gazing upon your soul, deeply fixated on your presence. 

It was much larger than any wolf you had seen in your entire lifetime, more akin to a dire wolf, which you had only seen in books, as it had been extinct for hundreds of years before, yet it was…so familiar. Still trapped inside the limbo of the dream you were initially having and your reality, you weren’t completely sure if what was happening before you was actually real. Not only that, but you had the sudden urge to be at the mercy of the wolf, even if it meant that you’d end up with your throat between the beautiful creature’s ragged teeth. However, you weren’t going to roll the dice with death, not when you’ve seen past loved ones get their lives snuffed out by a predator half the size of the one that was suddenly eagerly making its way towards you. 

Just before the wolf could reach you, your bow was drawn, the feathered arrow slicing into the cold skin of your cheek as it sailed through the air and lodged itself into the creature’s shoulder, your eyes shut tight all the while. What you expected to hear were the familiar pained whines of a canine but you instead were exposed to the lower pitched groans of a man, causing you to freeze, your eyes opening back up, now widened like marbles. The last thing you were expecting to see was another human, not when you lived alone in the woods for so long, and especially not a man that was stark naked and cowering in pain, with tears in his glistening eyes, looking at you as though you had betrayed him. 

You dropped your bow in favor of being at the strange man’s side, surveying his wound, realizing you were so exhausted and hungry, you must’ve simply imagined the wolf. “I-i thought…” you whispered, mostly to yourself, your voice trailing off, almost surprised to hear it after not using it for so long.

“Is that your way of saying hello?” The man hissed in pain when you touched the site of his wound, pushing your hand away from the broken shard of wood that was still lodged inside his bare shoulder. 

“I thought you were…going to kill me…” You reached down and tore off a portion of your thick linen blouse, about to wrap it around the man’s wound when you blocked you with his forearm. “I saw a wolf…” 

“Do I look like a wolf?” he pouted, reaching over to hold his shoulder in pain. 

“I’m sorry, I–…Please, let me help you. I need to apply pressure,” you reasoned, your face contorted with growing regret and concern. 

Studying your body language, the man cautiously let go of his arm and allowed you to wrap the torn linen around the wound site, biting into his lip all the while, letting out a few pained grunts. “Hurts…” 

“I know, I’m almost done, I promise…” you whispered softly near him, taking a second to share a look with the man, apologizing once again with your softened gaze and upturned brows. 

Once you were done, he leaned forward slightly into your personal space to study you, his eyes widened once again, this time with curiosity and admiration, already trusting you despite remnants of your arrow still left inside him. 

You bit into your lip, letting out a small breath, which turned into condensation as soon as it left your mouth. “I didn’t think anyone else lived in this forest…Where did you come from?”

Afraid that you would find his true identity to be far too much for you to handle, he thought it would be better to hide it. “Some would call me a nomad…I’m here, there, everywhere, really.” 

You nodded at his words, noticing once again that he lacked clothes when you were finally able to pull your attention away from his hypnotizing likeness, never having been drawn to someone like this before. It was then that you averted your eyes with diligence, your once cold cheeks growing warmer the more he stared at you. It took all your strength to return his gaze for just a moment. “Do nomads usually wander around the woods without proper clothing?” 

“Well–” The werewolf’s vision went dark for a second, as your pelt was thrown onto him. He pulled it down just enough to continue admiring the human he had been watching from a distance for so long, blowing a few strands of dark shaggy hair out of his sight. “I’m Mingi, by the way. What’s your name?” 

“Y-Y/N,” you answered sheepishly, not sure why the strange man was so keenly interested in you, especially after you just shot him with an arrow. 

“Y/N,” he repeated lovingly, enjoying the way it sounded, slowly sitting up until little white dots began to dance around his vision. “I don’t feel so good.” When Mingi fell forward into your arms, he couldn’t help but smile. You smelled so pretty, just like he had imagined. Warm like cinnamon, smoky like the fire you always kept burning inside your cabin, sweet like flowers in a garden he would roll around in when no one was around. You smelled like home. 

-

It took most of your strength helping the injured man back to your cabin, immediately laying him down in your bed and pulling your warm blankets up over him. To beat the freezing temperature inside your cabin, you quickly tossed a few pieces of wood in the fireplace and lit it up. You stayed crouched near the controlled flames for a little while to make sure the fire stayed alive, until your company let out a soft groan of pain. Now at his side, you pulled the pelt from his shoulders and frowned at the extent of the damage you caused, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re still bleeding, Mingi…I’m so sorry…I need to stitch you up.”

Just as you stood up, Mingi reached up to hold onto the corner of your torn blouse, blinking hazily up at you, a few beads of sweat cascading along his straining neck. “Please, don’t worry about me, love. You’re the one who needs rest.” 

“Nonsense.” You shook your head, pulling away to find your sewing kit, your cheeks hot to the touch. Once you found it inside one of your drawers, along with a sleep shirt that had belonged to a previous loved one, you returned to Mingi’s side. “Now, stay still, okay?” 

“I’ll do whatever you need from me.” Mingi slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard, watching with interest as you expertly sewed his wound closed, quite fond of the way you took care of him, and of how close you were to him, your hand resting on his chest for stability as you worked. Before you could pull your hand away from his body, he placed his over yours, unintentionally allowing you to feel his rapid heartbeat. “Thank you for this. Anyone else would’ve left me for the wolves.”

Biting into your lip, you couldn’t help but take into account the way his hand completely enveloped yours, truly forgetting just how important physical touch and connection with others was until this very moment, now that his warm skin was pressing into yours. “I-it’s nothing, really…”

“No, it’s not just nothing,” Mingi pouted, slowly bringing your hand up against his cheek to gently nuzzle into it. He couldn’t believe he had gotten this close to you, the special human he had been head over paws for ever since he had seen you for the first time. “It’s everything. You saved me.” 

It was almost as if this stranger had escaped one of the novels you read over and over, seeming too good to be true. “It was the least I could do after I hurt you…” 

It was when Mingi began to look at you for too long, with that unwavering longing in his eyes, that you cleared your throat and stood up, announcing, “I think I’ll make us some nice, warm soup. How does that sound?” 

It took everything in Mingi not to let out a few celebratory howls, instead nodding his head eagerly, his shaggy brown hair bouncing. “I’ve always wanted to try your food. I can smell it from outside sometimes and it always makes my stomach rumble.” 

You began to expertly chop up vegetables, stopping mid slice when you digested Mingi’s interesting choice of words. “So you know of me?” 

“I-i do,” he nodded shyly, despite your back being turned away from him.

“Have you been watching me, Mingi?” you asked after a few more minutes of silence, your knife now slicing into the last few potatoes you had pulled from your garden before winter began. 

“….Admiring you,” he gently corrected, knowing his big fluffy ears would be splayed out in embarrassment if they were there. 

Just as you began to pour the cut up vegetables into the pot of boiling broth, you blushed and jolted suddenly from the implications of the handsome stranger’s words. Your elbow knocked into the side of your cleaver, causing it to slip off the edge of the wood counter. Before you could blink, Mingi had already caught the handle of the cleaver, slowly standing up by your side, officially displaying the sheer size difference between the two of you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, love…” Mingi set the cleaver back down onto the counter, reaching over to touch your hand with a gentleness you hadn’t experienced before. 

The speed and quickness of Mingi’s reaction was incomprehensible; you were still reeling from it. Now he stood beside you, his size and stature more akin to a beast in human form than a simple man. Not only that, but the hand that was overlapping yours felt hot to the touch, like Mingi had a furnace burning away inside of him. You had heard stories of shapeshifters that lived in dense forests much like the one you called home. They had been around for centuries, living amongst themselves, never interacting with humans, able to take the form of beasts at will. You glanced out your window, peering up at the bright orb looming over you. It was a full moon, after all — but did myths like that really exist in the real world? 

“Mingi…are you…?” Your words began to die inside your mouth as soon as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place inside your mind. You couldn’t deny the connection you felt with Mingi, knowing that your total isolation played a part in your desire to let him in. It clouded your mind. You were growing so tired, you almost didn’t seem to mind if he wasn’t strictly human. 

Mingi smiled softly down at you, one of his canine teeth poking out past his plump lips, leaning himself down a bit to shorten the distance between you. He waited eagerly for you to finish your question, tilting his head to the side, having to blow his hair out of the way. 

“Are you hungry?” you finally asked, lowering the flame on the stove so that the soup could settle now that it was ready to serve. 

Mingi’s lips formed a silent ‘o’, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He thought you might’ve been on the same page about your mutual attraction, but he was beginning to suspect that his obsession with you was one sided. It’s not like you had imprinted on him; it was the other way around. Silly wolf. 

Before Mingi could cry about it, he tasted something so delicious, he couldn’t help but let out an enthusiastic ‘mmm!’. You had slipped a soup spoon into his open mouth, allowing him to try the first homemade meal he’s ever had in his life, one that you had made for the both of you to share together within the sanctity of your cabin, away from the bitter isolation of the forest. He was a silly wolf, after all, because this, this was love. 

“Good?” you gauged softly, your eyebrows upturned with sheepish anticipation. 

“Good! Ahhh~” Mingi licked his lips and opened up again, savoring the warm, comforting feeling inside his stomach once you fed him another bite. “I’ve never had something this delicious before.” 

“Oh, stop,” you blushed, pouring some soup into a bowl and handing it to Mingi, shocked to see him bring it up to his mouth and gulp it down. “Oh, you weren’t lying…were you?” 

Mingi’s brown eyes were round, shiny like marbles, filled with unwavering sincerity. “Everything tastes better when you’re with the one you love…” 

You almost choked on your own soup, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. “D-did I hear that right…?” 

Mingi was a romantic at heart. He couldn’t help it, especially when the moon was so big and bright, glowing with everlasting light. She was reminding him to be brave. “Y/N, do you believe in love at first sight?” 

Your heart thumped away inside your chest, a steady reminder that you were alive, and not alone for the first time in a long time. “I think I might…Is that crazy?” 

Mingi brought his hand up to his face to hide the way it scrunched up with pure joy, his cheeks rosy and full of warmth. “If it is, then I must be too.” 

“Where…have you been all this time? I’ve been waiting…for someone like you…” You slowly reached up to pull his hand down, bringing it to your own face, pressing your cold cheek into his large palm. “For someone to keep me warm.” 

He had been there all this time; you just hadn’t seen him yet. But now, you would see all of him. Without thinking, Mingi brought his other hand to your face, gently cupping your cheeks and bringing himself down so that he could press his lips onto yours. It took everything in him to pull away just enough to whisper, “I’m here now. Is that…better?” 

For the first time, you felt like you could let your guard down, not be the lonely, hardened hunter you had to be. Now that you were safe, you could take a rest. “Better,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around Mingi’s neck just in time to lay against his chest, losing the strength to stay awake. 

-

You woke up to the sensation of something intensely warm wrapped around you from behind, someone’s lips idly pressed to the nape of your neck, what felt like fluffy ears twitching near your hair, the soft fur tickling your exposed skin. The air around you was hot and heavy like you were stuck inside an oven, an enticing aroma of spiced cinnamon and woody musk clouding your senses. Your eyelids fluttered open, first noticing two strong arms locked around your middle, realizing Mingi was holding you close to him, his heated chest pressing into your back. 

Overcome by the memories of earlier, the forgotten intimacy of being touched and held by someone, the intense pheromones you were practically doused in, and the want, the need to be truly seen by Mingi, despite having just met a few hours ago, you attempted to turn around to face him, only to have him tighten his grip just enough to keep you still. “M-mingi, I want to look at you…I’m not mad, I just–”

“Do you know what you’re getting into, love?” he whispered in a gravelly voice into your ear, sounding like he had just woken up out of a deep sleep, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin with just his words. “I’m not…what you think I am.” 

You sheepishly pushed back against Mingi, hearing him let out a soft groan, knowing he was just as satisfied with the way your body felt against his. “I already know, Mingi…I trust you. I’m not scared.” You felt his grip loosen up around your waist, opting to cement his hands around your waist.

His lips were now pressing directly onto the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Do you know what I am, Y/N? Do you wish to see?” 

“I do…” 

It was then that Mingi climbed on top of you, his broad naked body keeping the glowing orange light of the fire from reaching you, the pelt you had offered him earlier falling into a pile on the side of the bed. Filled with a sense of lustful wonder, you studied Mingi, your half-closed eyes trailing along his tan skin, noticing how his wound had already healed completely, unable to ignore the arousing addition of his elongated canine teeth and the way his tongue ran across them. “You’re a…werewolf…”

Mingi’s fluffy wolf ears twitched slightly, listening closely to the way your breath hitched. “Most would be scared of me, but you…you like this.” 

You swallowed harshly, still finding it very difficult to breathe in the air around you, Mingi’s dominating presence further encouraging you to submit. “Will you eat me?” 

Mingi let out a small puff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth curling up into an amused smile, lowering himself further onto you, knowing his heavy cock was pressing into your heat through your linen trousers. His lips ghosted along your jaw, the bushy end of his tail gliding back and forth along one of your ankles, replicating the light strokes of a paintbrush. “Only in the way that would have you begging for more.” The small moan that escaped your throat didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He nosed at your neck, resisting the urge to lick and bite at it. “Though, i won’t do anything without your permission, love.”

You cupped your hands around his heated face, your insides feeling as if they had been set ablaze. “Do with me what you will, Mingi. I insist.” 

When Mingi’s lips parted, you pressed yours onto them with a fervor you didn’t realize you possessed. The kiss grew more and more intense, the two of you holding onto one another as though you were afraid it all would end too soon, taking turns licking into each other’s willing mouths, breathing in each other’s air when you grew dizzy. 

Growing frustrated with the lack of skin on skin contact, Mingi pushed his large hands up past the hem of your woolen top and slid it off of you, admiring the soft curves of your exposed breasts, before his desperation kicked in and he nuzzled his face against them, sighing onto your skin. “Beautiful…” He dragged his tongue up in between your tits, grabbing one while he sucked desperately on the other, a low growl erupting from his throat. 

“Mingi,” you moaned out, your back arching, only encouraging him to see what other pretty noises he could get you to make, gasping when his sharp teeth teased your sensitive nipples. 

He licked over them to ease the sudden bout of pain, unable to keep himself from sucking one of them into his mouth, apologizing with his upturned eyebrows and his big, round eyes. 

You simply couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him to make a mess of your aching cunt, feeling your wetness stick to the thin linen material of your pants as you kicked them off. “Mingi, more, please, need more…” 

The werewolf knew what you needed when your fingers slid into his soft hair, leaving kisses along your bare body as he moved down south, getting himself comfortable between your spread thighs. “You want me to eat you up, yeah?” He spread your pussy open with his thumbs, nosing at it to inhale your flowery scent, quite aware that it bumped into your clit when he gave your slit an experimental lick, just enough to collect your essence on his tongue. “My beloved needs me to ravage her?” 

“Yes, plea–oh, my god,” you reacted whinily, your thighs involuntarily pressing into the sides of his head just as he dove in, which he grabbed onto, pushing them up and out of his way, his lips and tongue already working in tandem to drive you to a place of pleasure you’ve never been before. 

Mingi devoured your cunt in true animalistic fashion, licking and slurping up your juices as soon as it spilled out of you, just to spit it it back onto your slit and drink it all down, eventually plugging you up with his large tongue to feel you throb, unable to keep himself from fucking you with it until you began to cry out his name in between unintelligible words, your fingers tugging on his hair.

So good, it’s so good, nnnghh, i’m–” You cut yourself off once your impending orgasm took over your body, barely able to register Mingi rubbing soft circles into your shaking thighs and leaving kisses across your inner thigh and on your sensitive clit. You were finally brought back to earth when Mingi’s arousal coated tongue slipped into your mouth, his heated body pressing heavily into yours, gasping into his mouth as soon as Mingi began to desperately rut against you, doing your best to swallow his drool. It was when he whimpered that you broke the desperate kiss, asking softly, “What is it, dear? Tell me what you need.” 

“Need you, need to be inside you,” Mingi exhaled against your jaw, letting out a few shaky breaths, unable to keep himself from sinking his claws into your sheets, clearly at his limit. “Can I…? Please?” 

“Have your way with me, Mingi,” you granted his wish, welcoming him with open arms, just as he folded you up into a mating press and began to pound himself into you.

Mingi knew that such an intimate position would almost guarantee that you would home his pups after the very first knot. It drove him crazy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you as hard and fast as he could, emitting a animalistic grunt or growl with each thrust he made into your dripping cunt, a few drops of drool escaping past his plump lips and landing on your flushed, sweat-ridden face. “You’re mine now, love. My mate. I’m going to breed you.” 

“Y–ours…!” you could barely enunciate, not when he kept punching the air out of your petite body when his oversized one came in contact with yours, his heavy cock continually slipping back into your willing hole with so much ease, it was clear that you were made for him.

“Mine. My pretty little mate, all for me.” It was then that Mingi bit down into your neck, hard enough that he could leave his mark on you, a white hot streak of pleasure shooting through your spine as he did so. 

It felt so good, you could’ve swore you were already cumming, dragging your nails down his broad back, your eyes disappearing underneath your fluttering eyelashes. The werewolf didn’t seem to get tired, no matter how many times you came undone, his large hands still tugging on your hips, forcefully guiding you back onto his cock as though you were a simple doll, at least until you felt a new sensation, something stretching you open even further. “Haaah, it’s so big…”  

“That’s my knot, love. Will you take it, Y/N?” he panted into your ear, licking and nibbling at it as his husky voice finally penetrated your hazy mind.

“Yes, give it to me, please, Min…”

He hummed against your skin, running his hands along the soft edges of your heated body. “I’ll breed you full…so full of my cum, you’ll be carrying my pups by the next full moon.” 

Something about what Mingi said altered the state of your mind on a primal level, your thighs automatically hooking around the werewolf’s waist, your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly close. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You had a “mate,” like Mingi had lovingly coined the phrase. You would be his, and he was yours, and something so simple made you feel safe. 

“Yes, please.” 

It wasn’t the heavy knot that stretched you wide and locked you in that brought tears to your eyes, but the sudden, hot, seemingly endless rush of cum that flooded your womb that made you cry. Mingi rubbed gentle circles over the small pouch that joined the prominent bulge his cock made inside your abdomen. “You did so well, love, so good for me,” he cooed at you, giving your cheek a few loving licks. “You were made for me.” 

“I was just thinking that,” you sighed softly, running your fingers through his matted, sweaty hair, loving how it felt to have him still stay inside you, keeping all his love from pouring out. It just felt right. Being here with Mingi felt right, like you had always been waiting for him to fall into your life. 

“That’s because you’re my other half.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before resting his against yours. “It was destined.” 

“For me to shoot you with an arrow?” you joked, reaching up to gently play with one of his furry ears. 

Mingi nuzzled into your touch, wanting to stay with you in that moment, that warm bed, that cozy little cabin that kept you both safe for as long as he could. “I would get shot a million times over, if it meant that I could meet you again.” 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

[reidmania]

KILL FOR YOU | spencer reid

summary ; one time Spencer wanted to propose and the one time he did.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of injuries, protective Spencer, reader gets hurt by an unsub, spencer beats said unsub, normal criminal minds stuff, angst if you drink vodka, hit ur head then squint a little. they are so in love

an; this was gonna be 2 times spencer wanted to propose and the one time he did but i couldnt be fucked writing it. NOT PROOF READ.

this gif is my fav ever bc he is so bloody cute oh my gosh

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Hey spence.”

It rolled off your tongue simply, easily like nothing. Like it was made to leave your lips. The little nickname, the sweet tone so gentle without intention. Spencer had grown to love it more and more everyday.

Your hand fell gently on the top of his shoulders, Spencer could feel the indent of your rings over his sweater — the one he wore often after you mentioned it was one of your favourites on him.

“Hi honey” He turned in his chair to face you. You had been busy doing case work all day with Emily and unfortunately she deemed Spencer too much of a distraction to be around, so he was sent away sulking for the last three and a half hours.

His eyes met your face and his lips tugged up into a smile. How could he help it when you looked so beautiful. Your hair tied back into a ponytail, a simple fleece sweater of his folded upwards enough to look like it didn’t completely bag on you, over a simple black skirt. It stunned him how you made his home clothes look so professional and good. 

“I missed you” He said, taking ahold of your hand in his. Letting the warmth of your skin raise the heat in his own — although skin to skin contact from wasn’t necessary to raise his body temperature. Just you being around was enough. He would see you from across the room, laughing or smiling and his stomach would flush with warmth. It was inevitable.

You giggled — god he loved the sound. “Your hands are freezing.” You muttered as you interlaced your fingers from his, despite the comment you relished in the small contact you two shared. You tried to keep it professional at work as much as possible.

“Warm them up?” He suggested innocently tilting his head to the side as his gazed remained fixated on your face. He couldn’t pull his eyes away even if he wanted to — which he didn’t.

You smiled and squeeze your fingers around his hand. “I missed you too.” You said back — replying to his earlier comment. He adored that, how to often got sidetracked, over excited and distracted jumping from topic to topic without even realising you were doing it before finishing your sentence. He loved that about you, he watched and adored you every time, no matter what you were saying, or how much he sat there and listened to every word.

“How did you go?” He asked, he subconsciously swung your arms softly as he spoke, eyes locked onto yours. He didn’t needed to explain what he meant — he was talking about how you went getting on with the work. He knew you understood that.

You hummed, other hand straying to fidget and pick up things at his desk. Normally people touching his stuff and messing it about would annoy him — but it didn’t bother him the slightest when it came to you.

“It went good — once we were distraction free” You muttered before turning your head back to face him, he noticed the teasing smile on your face instantly.

He snorted, “Once you were distraction free. Emily was fine” He said.

You shook your head, “She was distracted by my distraction. You are very distracting Spencer Reid” You pointed out, hand leaving his desk to poke the top of his nose gently. Spencer scrunched up his face at the touch but the smile remained on his lips.

“Oh! I was thinking about dinner, maybe we could get take out tonight? I saw a new Chinese takeout spot on the way to work tod- I also saw the cutest puppy earlier, we should get a puppy spence, just a little one” You cut yourself off in the way he already expected you to.

“We can try it tonight” He said fondly, “And we can speak more about the dog thing later” He said. He loved animals but he didn’t know how he felt about having a dog in his house, the amount of germs they would track inside the house set an unsettling bundle of nerves in his stomach, but he knew if you wanted it there was nothing more he would do then get you it.

Your face lit up, he felt his chest swarm.

Yeah definitely worth the germs.

You audibly yay’d. Spencer felt his chest rise and fall as the all familiar thought ran through his head. His hand reached into his pocket to fiddle with the small box in his pocket. He knew deep down it was stupid to carry it around all the time but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t want to plan the perfect moment — he wanted it to be the perfect moment. He wanted it to feel perfect when he proposed, not be made to feel perfect. Grand gestures weren’t him, and it wasn’t you. But he wanted it to feel right.

Right now, the look on your face, the feeling in his chest was one of those moments where he couldn’t get the idea out of his head, he couldn’t stop himself for thinking about how gorgeous you would look walking down the aisle towards him. He couldn’t stop picturing spending the rest of his life with you.

He said your name, causing you to look back at him from where your gazed was fixated on your intertwined hands. His tone was hesitant and nervous but you made every nerve worth it.

His fingertips wrapped the velvet box, “I-“ His hand paused when your head swung around at the sound of your name. Seeing Emily calling you.

“Emily!!” You said excitedly, “Me and Spence are getting a dog!” You cheered as you looked over at her, your smile bright and wide as you once again got distracted subconsciously.

The slight disappointment slipped away in moments as Spencer watched you smile excitedly. He knew you were probably playing the idea out in your head.

“Maybe.” He reminded — but he knew he would give in.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you looked back on him. “��Probably?” you negotiated, raising your eyebrow hopefully. He chuckled shaking his head before sighing. “Probably.” He agreed.

“I love you” You leant down to place a quick, simple and sweet kiss on his lips before you bounced away to continue your conversation with Emily as she reminded you that there was still more work to do.

Spencer tapped his fingers against the velvet material in his pocket, licking his lips chastely as he tried to push the thought from his mind. Turning back to face his computer screen he let out a soft sigh.

It would be perfect.

“Where is she?” Spencer pushed through a group of people, eyes wide and mind a completely and utter mess. The only thing he could focus on was you. He had zero regard for the people he shoved out of the way trying to get to Hotch.

His looked around — trying to find any glimpse of you possible as he stood in front of Hotch. He was scared — he was absolutely terrified and he couldn’t see you anywhere. “Where is she?” He repeated

He felt Hotch’s hand on his shoulder which normally he would find comforting but he flinched away from it. “Reid.” Hotch said, his tone gently but still holding the stern component that never seemed to leave.

He was trying to be respectful he really was but his mind was apanic. “Hotch, Where the fuck is she?” He hardly swore but it slipped out as he avoided holding eye contact with the older man, scared maybe he might burst into tears as his chest felt unbearably tight.

“Shes with the paramedics, she’s in a lot of pain— Reid.” Spencer didn’t stay to listen to the rest of what his boss had to say, instead walking off towards the ambulance through the crowd of people.

He was panicked beyond belief. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking his he heard that you were down. He was pissed that Emily and you decided to split up while searching around the house, only ending with you being grabbed from behind, pushing you so hard against the wall that when you hit it — you were knocked out.

The minute Emily found you around the other side she was telling everyone over her speaker, Spencer was rushing outside of the house he had been checking with Derek and his feet were moving faster than his brain could compute. His hands were shaking when he came in contact with the unsub, who immediately went for him.

Spencer was unable to help himself, his hands didn’t reach for his gun instead he pushed the man up against the wall, like the unsub previously had done to you — only his fist found their way to the unsubs face, over, and over, and over again until it was nothing more than a bloody mess.

He had little injury from the unsub, he endured a few hits to the face which did nothing more than leave his nose and lip bloody but he couldn’t of cared less about that when all his mind could think about was you.

He was pushed away by Derek, and the unsub taken into custody by Rossi and Emily after Emily had called the paramedics for you. He fought Derek briefly trying to get his hands back on the unsub.

“You could have had a murder charge” derek had said, finally somewhat calming Reid down once the Unsub was taken away. Spencer remembers thinking nothing more than how much he wanted that man dead — he had never really wished that on anyone.

“He should be dead.” Was all Spencer had replied before walking off.

His eyes landed on you, sitting with a blanket over your shoulders in the back of an ambulance, leaning on the side of it with your knees pulled up to your chest, hand held to the back of your head holding what he could only assume was an ice pack.

He called your name as his feet rushed towards you before they stopped right in front of you. You met his eyes and he could’ve swore his heart had shattered into a million different pieces at the sight of tears in your eyes.

“Oh baby” He cooed as his hands hovered slightly over your side. He was scared to touch you, scared to hurt you more than you had already been hurt. His chest was tightening more and more and he found it hard to breathe.

“Im okay” You pushed out, but your voice was contradicting your words as it cracked slightly. You almost lunged towards him letting your head bury itself in his chest, arms wrapping themselves around his waist. He took it as an okay to touch you, his arms immediately wrapping around you as he stood in-between your legs.

“Im sorry” He whispered, hand running up to your hair to smooth it out gently, hands careful over the bloody spot in your hair. You shook your head but stopped as it only sent a throbbing sensation throughout it. You pulled your head away and Spencer moved to sit beside you.

“You don’t have to apologise” You said softly, hand coming up to wipe a tear from your cheek. Spencer’s hand stayed on your back. “Im okay. Really.” You reassured.

“I should’ve been there, someone should’ve been there.” He said, shaking his head. He was holding back the urge to scold the stupidity it took to separate yourself and Emily in a situation but he knew deep down you were just doing what he thought was right — and he could hardly think about that when you were sitting here with that look in your eye.

“Wh- What the hell” you muttered as you looked over his face. For some reason the state of him didn’t register when you first saw him, maybe it was because of the tears blurring your vision or maybe the fact you were just in relief that he was there, but now you did as your entire chest fell.

“Im sorry” He apologised again. “I was so— I was so angry, I was scared” He said, He watches the way your face falls into something he can only explain as panic and guilt. He hated the way you looked guilty.

“Spence..” You sighed, grabbing ahold of his hand gently, thumb rubbing back and forth of his soft skin. He relished in your touch. His eyes closed as he tried to neglect the burning sensation in the back of his throat and bridge of his nose that came as a warning sign for the tears brewing in the back of his eyes.

“I wanted to kill him” Spencer said, his voice cracking as the lump grew in his throat. He despised the way it gave him away. He didn’t want to be in this position — he was supposed to be the one comforting you, not the other way around.

“That would only get you in trouble baby” You said gently. The headache subsided slightly as your head filled with nothing more than Spencer. An unfamiliar feeling filled your stomach as it dawned on you that Spencer would quite literally kill for you.

“He hurt you” Was the best Spencer could muster up. And to him it was enough of a reason.

An unfamiliar feeling filled your stomach as it dawned on you that Spencer would quite literally kill for you. Your hand tightened around his as you turned your body to face him more. Your hand leaving his to cup his face in your hands.

A frown tugged on your lips and Spencer groaned at the way tears ran down his cheeks. He tried to pull his face away from your hands in-order to hide it in his own, but yours stayed around his face.

“Oh baby.” Spencer’s chest tightened as your thumb dragged the softest against his cheeks wiping away stray tears. “It’s apart of the job baby. We both know that, theres always a risk of us getting hurt. But I’m right here yeah? Im okay.” You cooed gently.

It dawned on him in that moment at your words. Of course before he knew there was a risk — he was well aware of that but now he completely understood it. He understood how much he needed you, how much he would do for you.

He realised there was no life for him without you in it.

He said your name, his tone clear, you raised your eyebrow with a quick nod. You repeated his name but his mind was elsewhere unable to process it as he stared at your face.

Perfect or not. There wasn’t ever gonna be a moment where he felt like he needed to do this more. He needed to be your husband. He needed the future with you. He needed this and he needed this now.

“Marry me.” He said, it wasn’t how he wanted it to come out but his lips worked faster than his mind. He watched your eyes widen, your brows furrow in confusion as your lips parted before shutting again.

“W-What?” You muttered.

“Marry me.” He repeated, “Please. I don’t want to spend another day wondering if we will get a future together. I don’t ever want to endure this again without you being my wife. I want everyday with you, I want the arguments and the bad days, I want the long nights and the kids. I want you, today, tomorrow and every day after that. I want to marry you, I want to be your husband” He ranted.

Your eyes widened as he rambled on as tears rushed all the way back in your eyes from where they had subsided.

“I can’t lose you. I am so in love with you, it hurts. It hurts so please—“ He sighed, “Marry me.”

You were at a loss for words and Spencer almost expected that. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it, but he didn’t think he could go another day without asking you.

“Im sorry, I know this is probably the worse time possible” His fingers tugged at the box in his pocket, pulling it out. He used his other hand to open it. Your eyes fell from his onto the ring sitting inside the black velvet box. It was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning and so you.

“I wanted it to be perfect, I have been waiting but I cant w-”

“Yes.” You said, cutting him off as you pulled your eyes away from the ring back to his face. “God- Yes- Spencer” Your voice was quiet and breathy.

His eyes widened. “Wh- really?” He almost expected you to shut him down.

“Are you stupid?” He knew it wasn’t serious because everyone knew Spencer Reid was a lot of things — but he was not stupid.

“Of course I will marry you!” You lunged towards him, pressing your lips against his. Unable to even care about the headache beating against the back of your skull as all you could feel was him.

He smiled into the kiss, deepening it as his hands tugged against your waist, pulling you in closer to him. He pulled away for a moment to take the ring out of the box, grabbing ahold of your hand he slid the ring on — it fit perfectly.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gaze returning to your face as he remembered you were infact still injured.

You beamed at him, “Im happy. Spence Im really happy” You said, unable to focus on anything else.

Spencer smiled back. “I love you”

[wileys-russo]

forget me not II l.williamson x reader

forget me not II l.williamson x reader

"only me lee!" you called out, slipping out of your coat and hanging it by the door, tugging your beanie off and running a hand through your hair. you sighed happily at the much warmer temperature in the house compared to the brutal winter wind bellowing outside.

but there was nothing that could wipe the grin off of your face, having just wrapped up your final day of your degree and handing in your final thesis, you were on top of the world.

and at that moment, leah had been determined to keep you there.

"leah?" you called out for your girlfriend, eyebrows furrowing in concern when there was nothing in return, though you could smell the orange blossom throughout the house where she'd had the diffuser on, and her car had been parked right next to yours when you pulled in.

"babe?" you yelled a little louder, unwinding your scarf and slipping off your sneakers leaving them by the door, frown deepening as you wandered further and further into your home with still no sign of the blonde to be seen.

but you melted as you rounded the corner and laid eyes upon a perfectly set dining room table, takeaway from your most treasured italian restaurant plated up beautifully with a glass of champagne poured to accompany it, an expensive looking bottle sat in a bucket of ice in the middle of the table.

you could see the food was still steaming which must have meant that-

"congratulations!" you jumped almost a foot in the air at the booming voice behind you, jolting around for a split second before leah engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet and cheering.

"leah!" you laughed, clutching onto her shoulders as the defender spun you around and carefully placed you back down on the ground. "i am so so unbelievably proud of you." her hands fell either side of your face, palms rough and callous but her touch warm and comforting as you melted into it.

"hold that thought." leahs finger smooshed against your lips for a second as she let go and stepped away, disappearing for a moment but returning with a huge bouquet of flowers in her arms.

"oh leah, you didn't need to do all this! i'd have been happy with a takeaway and a cheap bottle of wine." you exhaled with a soft smile, leah rolling her eyes affectionately and placing your flowers down on the table.

"only the best for the best. we can get wine drunk and have a greasy chinese any day of the week my girl, but its not every day that you graduate university with top marks, honors and three job offers!" your girlfriend reminded, shaking you proudly as you threw your head back with another laugh.

"i love you." you sighed, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around her neck, her own hands settling on your hips and drawing your body closer into hers, the scent of her perfume intoxicating as you drowned in it.

"i love you, i love our life, i love our home. and i love that i don't need to fight a big dusty stack of text books for your attention anymore!" the blonde teased as you grinned, leaning in to press a few short but sweet kisses against her lips.

"i knew that was coming." you sighed with a shake of your head, leah pulling a face and nodding, stealing another kiss and moving to pull your chair out for you, gesturing for you to sit down.

"i hate when you pull my chair out for me." you reminded as leah shrugged, pushing it in and stealing another kiss. "at restaurants, you didn't say anything about at home." leah winked taking her own seat as you rolled your eyes fondly.

"to you my love!" leah raised her glass with a beaming smile across the table, a fond grin on your own as a gentle clink sounded around the kitchen.

in that moment you felt loved and supported, as leah showered you with praise and hung off your every word as she asked you question after question about your finally completed thesis and how you were feeling.

if only you'd known it wouldn't last.

~

leah and you met through your cousin alessia.

the pair of you both the only girls in your immediate family and only a few months apart in age you'd grown up thick as thieves, adopting one another as the sisters you weren't given, both instead having older brothers.

you only grew closer as the years flew by, you making your way across the world to visit her when she was in college in america and the two of you vacationing together time and time again in italy with your families.

when alessia moved to manchester for football and you stayed in central london you saw less of one another, but still you did your best to make it to as many of her matches as you could, never gifted with much of a sporting ability which all three of your cousins had teased you for growing up.

you'd seen leah around in passing at the international games but never really had much to do with many of your cousins teammates bar the ones you saw more often that she played with at united or on the youth teams.

you had first been properly introduced to leah on a night out, arsenal playing united meant several of the england girls were going for dinner and given you'd gone to the game and hadn't seen alessia in well over a month she'd invited you to join them.

you hadn't interacted with leah all that much that night, spending most of your time glued to your cousins side making the most of your time with her, your exams now done for the semester you were making plans with her to go to ibiza after the season wrapped up.

but unknown to you, you'd stuck with leah a little more than she had with you.

you hadn't had anything else to do with her until a couple of weeks later, you were in between lectures and desperate for a coffee which actually tasted like coffee and not something from a gas station pod machine.

so you'd ducked out to a little cafe just down the road from the university, it was a fan favourite amongst studnets and often quite busy so you weren't surprised to see all the tables occupied and people stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting their takeaways.

you'd ordered your usual and a ham and cheese croissant to snack on along the way back, moving away from the counter to wait for your order, smiling apologetically at a blonde you'd accidentally backed up into.

you assumed that would be it, off in your own world as you started to daydream, which is why you missed the girl speak to you, only zoning in once she tapped you on the shoulder and you turned toward her with a curious frown.

"sorry, what?" you blinked realizing she'd said something and you'd missed it. "i said you look really familiar, have we met before?" the stranger asked and you let out a small puff of air in amusement. "is that supposed to be a pick up line?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as the blondes eyes widened.

"no! honestly. i would never try to pick you up-" she started but with a small scoff of offence from you her eyes widened further. "no! not that i wouldn't try to pick you up at all you're not ugly, but i wouldn't do it like that?" she cringed at herself as you hummed, turning back toward the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.

"hey no please, i'm so sorry this is all coming out wrong." the girl huffed with a shake of her head as again you only hummed and she seemed to give it up as there was a few beats of silence.

"oh! i know. you're...someones cousin." the girl seemed to light up, seemingly quite happy with herself as you threw her a side eye. "aren't we all technically someones cousin?" you questioned still facing the counter as the girl rolled her eyes.

"well yes but i swear i've seen you somewhere before." the blonde huffed in frustration and you sagged a little in relief as your name was called.

"let me guess. in your dreams?" you chuckled, stepping forward to grab your coffee and the small paper bag, good mood returning at the overwhelming scent of the croissant which was toasted, warm and calling your name.

"look. you're not unattractive but the whole 'oh i know you!' thing? it doesn't work. really, do yourself a favor and get a new tactic!" you shook your head with a slight smile, leaving the blonde gobsmacked as you moved past her and shuffled your way out of the cafe.

only if you'd just waited another thirty seconds, you'd have heard her own coffee's called out, all under the name leah.

again a couple of months passed and the coffee shop interaction disappeared from your mind, alessia laughing about it with you a week later teasing that even if you didn't date boys you couldn't avoid shitty pick up lines.

you didn't run into leah again until the very first friendly leading up to englands home euros run where they beat belgium 3-0. you'd been sat with everyone in the family and friends section, wedged between gio and your own older brother leo. the rhyming names in which you and alessia had teased them for for years.

naturally after the game and the crowd had cleared everyone was mingling with their families, and you'd been so busy laughing at alessia's brothers taking the piss out of her for having kept count of how many times she tripped over in the game you missed a familiar blonde spot you across the room.

however you were made aware of her presence around a half an hour later as your family had started to break off into groups, all headed to a local restaurant for a nice meal to celebrate alessia and everyone being together again.

"want a lift?" alessia offered twirling her keys around on her finger as she finished saying goodbye to a few of the girls. "yes but i'd also like to arrive to dinner alive." you sighed as the girl scoffed and hit you on the shoulder.

"well i'm your last option so you can walk if you'd prefer piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed teasingly, pinching your cheek as your eyes narrowed and you shoved her taller form away.

"alessia. you promised you'd stop calling me that." "i did, but i've changed my mind now. it brings nonna so much joy...i'd like to also feel that joy." "would you also like to feel my fist against your cheek?" "aw you're so cute, piccoli ravioli!"

"i hate you." you sighed in defeat unable to muster the energy for a proper comeback as your cousin only grinned and waved goodbye to mary over your shoulder.

exchanging goodbyes with ella and promising you'd come visit manchester soon you turned to follow after your cousin and her long legs which were already halfway across the room when there was a tap on your shoulder.

"you look really familiar. have we met before?"

"you." you realized quickly, eyes widening at the smug grin on the familiar blondes face who stood before you, clad in the same england tracksuit your cousin was wearing which could only mean one thing.

"you mean you're-" "yes i am, and you are someones cousin. alessia's!" the girl grinned victoriously as you winced a little at your previous interaction.

"told you it wasn't a pick up strategy." the blonde beamed even brighter, rocking back and forth on her heels and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"well you could have just asked!" you rolled your eyes at her smugness. "i did and you bit my head off!" the blonde huffed in defense. "i mean directly. like 'oh i think you might be related to someone i play football with'." you mocked in an attempt at her accent.

"i don't talk like that!" "thats what you took away from that?"

"well i didn't want to freak you out." the girl rolled her eyes as you snickered. "and how well did that go? i've been calling you coffee shop creeper when i tell that story, and let me tell you it gets some laughs!" your voice dripped with sarcasm but that just seemed to cause her lips to curl up into a more prominent smile.

"well then you're welcome for the ice breaker, maybe now you'll have some more success reading cues of when someone is trying to chat you up or just asking a curious question. not everyone wants to date you right off the bat, sorry for the let down." the blonde pouted though the sarcasm was obvious in her own tone.

"leah." your own response was cut short as the girl held out her hand, grin still plastered on her face and damp hair pushed to one side of your head as you sized her up for a second before sighing and exchanging your own name.

the interaction was paused as alessia yelled out for you, gesturing from the door and tapping her wrist making you scoff given she was one to talk forever the last to show up at any family event and notoriously known her lateness.

"well leah, i'm glad we cleared this up. good game!" you smiled sincerely for the first time and leah felt her stomach flip as you turned to head over to your cousin.

"wait! can i get your number?" you glanced back in surprise to the blonde who shrugged at your raised eyebrow. "only following your advice and asking directly!" leah teased with a smirk that you couldn't lie and say wasn't a little endearing.

"fine, but just so you know i will be saving your contact as coffee shop creeper."

~

years down the track and the coffee shop creeper charm had won you over, you were very happily in a long term relationship and a few months ago had taken the next step of moving in together.

with alessia now living in london too it meant the pair of you were near inseparable much to both leahs delight and frustration that your cousin loved to invite herself over, often interrupting date night.

you'd been by leahs side throughout her injury, sticking by her through the highs and lows, the lashing out, the icing out, the apologies and the crying and eventually, the peace and the healing.

you'd be lying if you said that despite how clearly proud of her you were, you missed having leah around as much now she was medically cleared and back fit and fighting for her beloved arsenal.

date nights were often forgotten, leah hanging back in the gym to do some extra work or to meet one on one with the physios ensuring her recovery was still right on track.

despite your own studies you made sure to be at every single game each weekend if leah was playing or not. but when she used to greet you afterwards with a bear hug and a sneaky kiss, whisking the pair of you away back home for a night of takeaway and horrendously cheesy rom coms, had disappeared as she instead spent time looking back on game footage with the head defensive coach or watching at home on her own ipad, normally requesting some space to do so.

but as always, you knew what this meant to her. football wasn't just leah's passion it was her life, and you wouldn't be the person to stand in the way of her achieving everything she wanted to and more, you were always her biggest cheerleader.

there was an international camp coming up and you knew that was her next goal, her focus narrowed down to have her name on that squad list her sole vision for the next few weeks, and of course as usual you'd been nothing but supportive of her.

but you had your own milestones incoming, your own goals to lock in on and finalizing your thesis was one of the last. leah had of course showered you with praise and attention and affection that night and you felt like things had started to slip back where they left off.

but then a few days later and again you were left sat at the dining room table alone on date night, reading a book and looking longingly over to the door awaiting the jingle of your lovers keys in its lock, but by the time it came you were long asleep in bed, leahs dinner left wrapped in cling film in the fridge, untouched and discarded by you that next morning.

as much as you put on a brave face, there was always someone who saw through any attempt at a wall you threw up for your own defense, and that was your cousin.

it had taken a little bit of clever reverse psychology and a mountain of carbs in the form of your favorite pasta dish but eventually alessia had you opening up about feelings you'd pushed down and down and down.

having known you longer and family meaning everything to alessia you knew the blonde would take your side, not that there was even an argument or 'sides' to be taken at all. but also always level headed and your go to for advice your entire life you took on board what she had to say.

she encouraged you to open up to leah and talk everything out, urging that the older girl was clearly head over heels for you and likely didn't even realise her actions were making you feel like this.

alessia cautioned that the longer you let these feelings sit the bigger chance they could begin to turn into resentment, to fester away and become much more negative, eating away at you piece by piece, the more likely that leah would continue on forward blindly, unaware of your feelings of neglect and you could both wind up hurt.

you wished you'd listened to her.

finally a week later your final hurdle arrived, your graduation.

given it was quite the extensive class you'd been apart of you only had a small handful of tickets to extend, but of course your cousin and your girlfriend had received their invitations weeks ago.

alessia had taken you out shopping a few days ago to find a dress, leah very kindly offering to come but you could see the slight grimace on her face at the thought and dismissed it with a smile, thanking her with a soft kiss for offering.

you needed to arrive earlier than your family, so alessia had texted leah the night before offering to pick her up and carpool. your girlfriend however assumed the blonde had meant a lift to training that next morning and declined, advising she would make her own way.

you'd also of course spoken about your nerves for tomorrow, leah only half listening as she studied the training footage she'd requested on her ipad, assuring everything would be fine and kissing your forehead as you hummed and settled down in bed beside her.

you were used to falling asleep first, back turned to your girlfriend as her fingers drummed away against her screen, wishing for nothing more than the nights where leah would be pressed up against you.

where she was present, involved, attentive. but again you chose not to mention it, afraid she'd take your feelings of neglect for neediness and the voices in your head warned it would mean your blonde lover would pull away even further out of reach.

it wasn't unusual for you to be up and gone when leah woke for trainings some mornings, the early bird out of the pair of you you often loved a morning run to clear your head, having long given up trying to convince your sleep loving bed hogging girlfriend to join you.

so she thought nothing of it when the time ticked by and still you hadn't returned, chalking it up to you maybe going for breakfast afterwards with a friend.

if she'd been paying attention when she raced out to her car, piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and her shoes in hand she might have noted your car was gone too.

leah was so wrapped up in training preparing for this weeks game, knowing sarina would be there to watch, she hadn't even tweaked your cousins absence, missing the flittering conversations that alessia had a family commitment.

never having her phone on her during training, leah was surprised to check it after showering to see an abundance of missed calls, messages and facetime attempts from a handful of different people.

"what the fuck?" the blonde mumbled, muttering her goodbyes to her teammates as she made her way quickly out of colney and sat down in her car, deciding to just start from the last missed call she had which was from her mum.

the girl couldn't even get a word in to ask what had happened before amanda was speaking, exhaling in relief at her daughters contact popping up on her phone.

“finally! I understand you might not have been allowed your phone for a face time during the ceremony but you better have some photos and videos to send me." amanda laughed, leahs frown only deepening but again she couldn't get a word in.

"god i bet she looked beautiful, she's such a gorgeous girl i've always said that! but now with a doctorate. oh leah did you cry? i bet your brother you'd cry!" amanda laughed as leah opened and closed her mouth in confusion.

"sorry, mum what are you on about?" leah finally managed to speak, a brief pause of silence on the other end. "fine so you didn't cry! you are a softie though bubba you can't deny me that. but i'm with your grandma so send me some photos at least to show her!" amanda encouraged as leahs eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry i'm a bit lost here. photos of what mum?” "the graduation of course, what else?" "whose graduation? you're not making any sense."

there was a few beats of silence, amanda having moved away for a moment to somewhere a bit more private.

"leah if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.” her mum warned seriously, tone shifting as leah scoffed. "of course its not a joke! i don't know what you're on about with this gradua-" but the words died in her mouth as finally things seemed to click.

"oh no no no fucking hell please no!” leah panicked, putting the phone down on her centre console as her chest tightened and her heart began to race.

"leah catherine williamson. please tell me you didn't forget your own girlfriends graduation ceremony." amanda spoke much more quietly, disbelief evident in her voice as leah fumbled around, knowing it was in here somewhere.

then she found it, the invitation.

you'd both been in the car when you'd shown it to her, leah having picked you up from a friends house where you'd had a few too many drinks for her to want you in an uber, smiling in amusement as you toddled your way down the driveway to her.

she hadn't seen you all day but the moment she'd gotten you safely in the car you'd presented her with the small slip of paper, leah's eyes widening in pride for a moment before her lips were showering every inch of your face in kisses as you'd laughed and shoved her off.

but the melodic sound of your laughter was a stark comparison to the stuffy horrendous silence which filled her car now as leah stared in both horror and disgust at the date on the paper clenched tightly in her fist.

"mum i need to go."

[shroomdreams]

She Makes Me Laugh (WLW Special)

Dom!HSR Women x Girlfailure!GF

cw: oral sex, collaring, hypnosis, fingering, tit/nipple play, public sex, usage of strap-on (reader receiving), temperature play a/n: happy pride month! and also happy yuri day! here's the wlw special, i hope you all like it! it took me a while, but I finally got it done!

Kafka:

You met Kafka while she was on a mission from Elio. You were one of the key pawns in her script, so she started getting closer to you in order to ensure the completion of the plan. What Kafka didn’t expect is to start feeling... fluffy things things for you. When you would hand her a flower you picked off the street, stuttering about how you thought of her, you were unknowingly plucking at her heartstrings.

She can’t help but pity you. You, the clumsy IPC grunt getting tangled with a Stellaron Hunter. Just the slightest scent of her perfume has you wrapped around her finger, giggling and twirling your hair as she purrs your name. Sweet, silly thing, do you know just who you’re dealing with? Kafka can’t help but lament your innocent nature, but such things were not meant to last. Not when it comes to the script.

But Elio had a surprise for her. He left out a crucial detail before Kafka was briefed on the mission. When she came to you, covered in blood and viscera, she expected this to be the last of your meetings. What she was not expecting was for you to blubber about how her clothes are all ruined, and that she NEEDS to come home so you can try and scrub her outfit clean. My my, aren’t you a curious one?

Being an employee of the IPC means you had more than enough money to pamper your girlfriend with a nice, relaxing bath. Sure, your face was the color of a tomato the whole time you were scrubbing her back, but Kafka can’t help but tease you during this intimate moment. She turns to face you, exposing her soapy chest. She laughs when your hands fly up to cover your vision, then letting out a cry when the soap solution makes stings your eyes. Kafka seizes this opportunity to use her ability on you.

You were already compliant before she used her hypnosis on you, but now you eagerly stripped off your clothing to join Kafka in the bath. Your hands roam her body as you feverishly kiss her neck, Kafka letting out a giggle when you try and fail to capture her lips, whining as she presses a finger to yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” Kafka says, holding you close and stroking your hair. “I should give you a reward. So sit pretty for me, alright sweetheart?”

Her dexterous fingers knead your breasts, cupping and tugging at your nipples with ease. You whine, laying your head on her shoulder as she teases your hardening nubs. The soapy water that clings to your skin makes it all the easier for Kafka to tug your nipples, rolling the buds between her index and thumb fingers. You squeal when Kafka slides one of her hands to the valley between your legs, her middle finger rubbing circles on your clit.

“K-Kafkaahhh...” She lets out a breathy laugh when you moan her name, teasing your entrance with her fingers. You whine, hands resting on her wrist as she eases a finger inside your wet cunt. “Ah! Kafkaaa-” Her middle finger moves in and out, rubbing against your walls. A sob escapes your lips when she adds another finger, adding to the intense pleasure you feel. Sure, you may have masturbated a few times, but your awkward fingers were nothing compared to Kafka’s. Speaking of which, Kafka nibbles at your ear before plunging another finger inside. Mouth hanging open, you’re powerless to stop the stream of moans and cries escaping you as Kafka’s fingers speed up, bringing you to orgasm. Your hips twitch upwards trying to chase her touch when Kafka pulls out.

“Open wide, little fly.” Kafka places her fingers in your mouth, watching as you eagerly clean your release off her digits. “You felt good, didn’t you? How about you show me some gratitude and eat me out?” She whispers. “A- Ah wan’ eat you ouff,” You whimper, still suckling on her fingers. “Mommy, wan’ taste you! Please!” Kafka raises an eyebrow, amused at how she managed to drag out this side of you.

The two of you don’t even bother to wipe yourselves dry as Kafka lays on the bed, spread out like a goddess. You hastily kiss up her legs, nipping the flesh of her thighs as your breath tickles her pretty cunt. Strings of Lightning wrap around your neck, collaring you to Kafka’s hands. “Go on then, little fly. Show mommy just how much you love her.”

You didn’t need her to tell you twice, as you start licking up her pussy, moaning as she tugs the strings leashing you to her. You eagerly push your face in, nose bumping against her clit as your tongue enters her pussy. Kafka rewards you with a low moan, her free hand playing with her chest as you eat like a starved man. Through the fog of lust and residual hypnosis in your mind, you thumb at Kafka’s clit, causing her to raise her hips into your face. Her moans grow progressively louder when you seal your lips over her clit, suckling on it while you desperately finger her cunt. Kafka throws her head back, her juices spraying all over you while you whine and lick at her cunt.

You kiss her stomach as Kafka pets you, praising you for a job well done. A week later, you quit your job by exploding your office as Kafka whisks you away, aided by Silver Wolf wiping away your records from the IPC’s database. You’re as clumsy as ever, but Kafka thinks its the most adorable thing ever, especially since you started making explosives for them to use.

Kafka secretly thanks Elio for letting the two of you meet, happy that you can stay by her side until the script eventually tears you apart.

Himeko

The fact you manged to pull a woman such as Himeko is something not even the Genius Society can comprehend. You, who trips on air and frequently knocks things off the table, having Himeko pepper kisses to your face while you blubber about whatever topic you’re interested in. Even the Astral Express jokes about the differences between you and Himeko.

In your first meeting, you spilled some coffee on Himeko’s dress. She had to pull you up from the bow you were in, her golden eyes looking into your tear-filled gaze. Eventually she managed to calm you down. Himeko couldn’t help but laugh whenever you stuttered, finding you oh so adorable.

Your consequent meetings had her observing your movements. You were trying so desperately hard not to mess up, constantly in a nervous sweat while you pointed out some interesting things in the environment. The way your eyes flicker to her when you talk about your favorite things, and how you stare up at her with such adoration when she talks about her journeys on the Express.

One day, you bring her to the opera house, dressed up all pretty in a white number that matches her dress. From the outside looking in, it looked like the two of you were getting married, and you weren’t exactly helping when you present her with a bouquet of flowers. Seeing you go through so much effort makes Himeko want to keep you all to herself! You even rented out a secluded part of the balcony just for the two of you. The opera performed below went forgotten when Himeko initiates a kiss, pulling you close into her embrace. You drown in her perfume, eyes squeezed shut as your hands awkwardly place themselves on her waist.

You had to be quick and subtle- Else you risk a shot reputation and being banned from the opera house. Taking off your gloves, you graze your hands over Himeko’s exposed leg, slipping under the slit of her dress and cupping her clothed pussy. She giggles, whispering in your ear. “Daring today, are we?” “I want... I want to make you feel good, Himeko. Can I?” Oh, you’re just too cute to handle! Where did that clumsy girl go? Either way, Himeko lifts herself off the seat just a bit, swaying her hips as she pulls down her shorts and underwear.

You wet your fingers before doing anything, licking them up and down before shyly ghosting your fingers over Himeko’s clit. She sighs, running her hand through your hair as you palm at her sex, teasing her lips and gradually building up the courage to dip a finger inside. Himeko softly moans in your ear as you wriggle your finger around, pulsing around the digit while praising you. You eventually dip another finger inside, receiving contented sigh from Himeko.

Keeping a delicate balance of speed and quiet was not an easy feat to achieve, but you managed to make it work. You bury your face in Himeko’s chest, kissing the valley between her breasts while kneading her nipple through the cloth. Himeko places a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her moans. “The opera’s... mmmh~ Ending soon... Better make it quick, honey.” You heed her words, angling your fingers to the sensitive spot in her walls. Himeko leans back into her seat as she cums, squeezing your fingers as they piston in and out, fucking her through her orgasm.

When the two of you get cleaned up, Himeko rewards you by fucking you senseless with a brand new, shiny strap-on she got just for you. You babble and keen as you feel the toy reach the deepest parts of your cunt, clawing at the sheets as you push your hips up against Himeko’s. She lightly pats your ass, pushing your back in a sinful arch. The position has you cumming quick, gushing around the dildo and creating a white ring at the base. However, it wasn’t over just yet, as Himeko grabs your leg and settles it over her shoulder. You’re pretty sure the neighbors would have filled a noise complaint from how loud you were screaming from the pleasure.

Even though she couldn’t bring you with her on the Express, Himeko still makes time for you whenever they stop by. She loves her adorable, silly girlfriend so much!

Jingliu

First off: How the FUCK did you survive meeting such a dangerous woman? No seriously, just... how? You should have died by her sword the second you made contact with her, but you’re still alive? Not even Jingliu herself understands why she hasn’t killed you yet- Whenever she raises her blade to deliver a killing blow, something within her falters. Hanging around with a mara-struck is dangerous, you know? So why do you still accompany her?

Maybe it’s because you’re still quite young. You’re a few centuries younger than her, pursuing someone who reached reached her 1000s at the least. Shouldn’t you be going after people your age? And the fact you can barely fight with any weapon annoys her a lot. If you’re going to be clinging to her like some lost puppy, she should at least discipline you to hold a sword.

So that’s exactly what she does, demanding that you bring a sword before meeting with her, or not bother seeing her if you fail. Thankfully, your grandfather’s sword is still in good condition, hopefully enough to survive Jingliu’s training... Okay maybe you overestimated your sword, since it sustained damage after the first session. But you weren’t about to give up. So when you come back, you had managed to find a craftsman willing to refine your sword.

Subsequent meetings with Jingliu devolved into training sessions, where she would bring your body to its lowest point and push you to your limits. She will admit, she was a bit fascinated by your ability to bounce back from your injuries like it was nothing. Perhaps you were touched by the Abundance? The thought of the Plagues Author extending THEIR filthy touch to you makes her blood boil.

At the end of one particularly intense session, Jingliu has you pinned down with the blade of her sword pinned to your neck. Instead of the normal fear, you just looked at her with such love-filled eyes, as if she wasn’t about to slay you right then and there. Jingliu’s icy breath hits your face as she stabs her sword to the ground, as she ravenously captures your lips, shoving her tongue inside as you squeal. She tears off your clothes, revealing a canvas for her to ruin.

The feeling of a cold tongue invading your cunt was definitely something new. Jingliu keeps your thighs apart, her cool touch making you shiver from the contact. Her crimson eyes stare up at you as she nibbles on your clit, making you whine from embarrassment. Jingliu closes her eyes as she continues sucking your bud. A string of saliva connecting her mouth to her pussy is visible when she releases her hold on you. “Keep your legs apart for me, pet.”

You immediately do so, using your hands to keep yourself spread wide open for Jingliu to ravage. She pulls you upward by your hips, sitting on her legs as she licks her lips. You mewl, wiggling your hips to try further entice her. This earns you a sharp bite to your thighs. “Naughty thing. Remember your place.” That’s all she said before she dove her face in your pussy, while her hands sneaked down to play with your tits, causing you to cry out from the icy sensation. You rut against her face, which makes Jingliu groan in approval, smearing your juices all over her.

In combination with your clit being abused and your nipples being roughly tugged, you came quick, squirting all over Jingliu. Of course, it wasn’t the end of it, as she tugs off her dress. You suddenly feel yourself being horny all over again when Jingliu’s pussy kisses against yours, whining from the sensitivity. Jingliu sighs as she perfectly slots between your legs, rutting against your pussy, fluids mixing in a puddle beneath your sinful dance. She plays with her tits as you babble about how good it feels. “You’re mine, you got that?” She growls, feeling her release building. “I’ll carve myself into your body so you’ll always remember who owns you.” Jingliu moans as she cums against you, pushing down into you to the point your delirious mind hopes you’ve melded as one.

You can never go back to your boring job in the Divination Commission after that. For until you become mara-struck as well, you become Jingliu’s personal pet. Hooray?

[ellecdc]

hi elle! would u mind doing the poly!domestic prompt “we need a bigger shower.”₁ “or, we could just stop showering togeth- “₂ “hey, hey, let’s not get too extreme!” with poly!jegulus please? 🎀

sure! thanks for the prompt <3

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who need a bigger shower, Jamie [741 words]

CW: non-sexual nudity, Regulus joking that reader is definitely showing signs of a concussion (she isn't)

You could tell Regulus’ temper was rising; his teeth were chattering when he was too far away from the warmth of the spray, but he clearly preferred that position if it meant you (and to a lesser extent, James) were more or less directly under the shower head. He winced every time you managed to whack your head against the shower wall, and murmured something pitiful in French when James’ hip ended up accosted by the built-in soap dish.

But you think it must’ve been the seventh time that he hit his elbow against the glass shower door - no doubt sending shock waves of tingles right to his finger tips - that did him in.

“This is awful.” He declared.

“What? No! This is lovely!” James argued, narrowly missing your jaw with his elbow when he moved to lather soap along his ribs. 

“This is going to see amour in hospital for a concussion.” Regulus countered darkly, though he protectively cupped the back of your head where it threatened to meet the tiles (again). 

“Oh angel, are you alright?” James cooed then, apparently having missed every painful sounding thwack and worried murmur that followed it. 

“M’fine, Jamie.” You offered with a tight smile as Regulus rolled his eyes. “I think we need a bigger shower.”

Regulus scoffed derisively. “Or we could just stop showering together.”

“Well, okay, hang on.” James started, lowering his loofa and holding out his hands placatingly as if this were a hostage situation. “Let’s not get too extreme here.” 

“James, this side of the shower is a completely different temperature.” Regulus explained impatiently. “And her head has absolutely more bruises than hair at this point.” 

“Well, I don’t think it’s that bad-”

“Absolutely concussed, without a doubt.” Regulus continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “I think one of her eyes is even going crossed.”

“You knock it off!” You laughed as you swatted at Regulus, your smile growing wider when the relatively aloof boy smiled uninhibitedly in return as he fended off your assault. 

“Has the shower really been that bad?” James asked then, causing you and Regulus to turn your attention back to your now rather sullen looking boyfriend having long since rinsed the suds from his body. 

“It’s not been that bad.” You relented as you pulled him into you - he didn’t have far to go, mind you, seeing as the three of you were already touching to some varying degree.

“It’s not been that good.” Regulus countered, though he acquiesced when you pinched him in the ribs. “I do like getting to appreciate the two of you naked, though.”

James let out a surprised laugh and you rolled your eyes good naturedly. 

“See? It’s not all bad.” James offered confidently. “Can I wash your hair, angel?” He asked then, lifting his hands to rub the skin at your neck only to earn himself a painful thwack of his elbow.

“Actually, Jamie?” Regulus started in his most ‘I have him wrapped around my finger’ voice that you seemed to be able to pick up on but poor sweet Jamie never could. 

“Yes, my love?” He responded quickly.

“Are you finished washing?” 

“I am!”

Regulus smiled gently at his boyfriend - the final blow. “Mind fucking off, then?”

“Wha-”

“There’s not enough room, Jamie.” You whined then. “Reg and I will be fast, okay? You won’t miss out on anything.”

“But…” James started, looking between the two of you a little heartbrokenly. “But what if you guys kiss?”

“What if we promise not to kiss?” Regulus countered.

“But…what if I want you guys to kiss.” 

“What if we kissed right now?” You offered, pausing for James to consider the offer.

“Can I have a kiss too?” James asked, and Regulus actually laughed.

“Yes, Jamie, you can have a kiss too.” Regulus confirmed.

Appeased, James accepted a kiss from each of you and appreciated the kiss you and Regulus shared before he stepped out of the shower, calling out a promise to place your towels in the dryer before exiting the steamed up bathroom.

“God he’s perfect.” You murmured as you leaned your forehead against Regulus’ chest.

“He’s so lucky that he is.” Regulus agreed, though whatever grumblings he pretended to have about James, you could just feel the fondness oozing right out of him for your loveable boyfriend. 

You were sure a similar fondness was oozing right out of you for your two loveable boyfriends.

[clockwayswrites]

@cannedinternets @darkstarsapocalypse @idontcaboose Phantom + Young Justice, Heads, Blue cw for Miss Martian's mental manipulation

The hatch slammed behind Conner as he stormed out onto the roof.

She was��

She was going to—

He was so stupid! He really had though that love could be enough! Like life was some sort of fucking fairytale. Like life worked out like that. But that’s what Megan had sold him, wasn’t it?

Him and her, perfect together.

A teen romance like the movies.

Meant to be.

Conner clapped his hands over his mouth to cover the ugly laugh that bubbled free without his permission.

Meant to be as long as she could make him into what she wanted. As long as he didn’t disagree. As long as she didn’t have to be wrong.

He wasn’t, he couldn’t—is this what it was like to be out of breath?

He really didn’t like the feeling if it was.

His whole body felt weak. Black was creeping into the edges of his vision. His knees buckled under him.

But he didn’t hit the roof hard. He was lowered down gently. Someone was speaking to him.

“Con, hey man, breathe for me, okay?”

Gentle but almost impossibly firm hands actually managed to pry Conner’s hands away from his mouth. That narrowed the pool of who it could be down a lot, but Conner just couldn’t get his mind to work.

“Come on, like me.” His hands were pressed against a slight chest that took an exaggerate breath.

Conner did his best to follow along.

It still took what felt like ages for the black to recede.

“Sorry… I don’t know what…”

“Panic attack,” Phantom said. He was sitting (or floating) cross legged across from Conner. He still had his hands cradled gently. “Or that would be my guess. I think you had a panic attack.”

“Oh.”

Conner didn’t how to take that. He didn’t… he was Superboy. He wasn’t supposed to panic.

“Conner… you, um, you were talking while you paced. What did you…” Phantom closed his eyes and took a breath he didn’t need. His eyes were bright when he opened them. “What did you mean about Megan making you into what she wanted? Like, was she trying to tell you what to do or—”

“She tried to wipe my memory.” The words were out before Conner could take them back. But he… he didn’t want to keep them inside him like rot. “She was going to use her powers to wipe my memory about… something.”

The temperature on the roof drops so quickly that Conner felt it. Phantom’s power crackled through it like the coming storm.

Like reckoning.

“She did what?”

[blimpintime]

jade green prologue

azriel x reader

in which Azriel has a personal healer, and she needs to be saved.

word count: 830 words

warnings: light angst, head injury, rhys is an asshole!

unedited

Being a traveling healer meant a few things; one, knowing how to defend yourself is the most important thing next to healing. Two, paying attention to new science and healing techniques will always benefit you and your patient. Lastly, being kind to everyone you meet, will get you further than having people fear you. 

Well, for the most part. Sometimes defending yourself and staying kind contradict one another hence why you are running, no, rolling down a snowy mountain trying to outrun some bandits. 

The snow is wet and mushy, not quite the firm snow that Illriya gets further into the cold season, so you are having a hard time grasping anything to regain balance and stability. Your winter gear is starting to become soaked with the cold and wet ground you have been sliding in, and eventually, you are wet head to toe when you slide into a river with no way to slow yourself down or stop.

Your head reemerges from the frigid water rushing around you, face freezing and refreshed at the same time. The sky is a bright white reflecting off the snow on the mountain making it hard for you to see. At this point, you have no idea what direction you are even facing or heading towards, and your body is dropping its temperature rapidly. 

“Shit.” You manage to cough out, your bag of healing items now long gone in the river.

 You try swimming toward a branch you see floating near you but get swept by the current and smack your head on the branch instead, causing everything around you to go dark.

There is not much that will get a reaction of Azriel but seeing one of his close friends (who he hasn’t seen in years)  floating lifeless in the Sidra was a scenario that made his stomach drop to his feet. 

He isn’t sure how he recognized you, floating face up in the water and blueish gray, but he is glad he did because he quickly shot down to where you were and ripped your frigid body out of the painfully cold water his hands going numb with pain. Your hair glowing around your face no doubt your healing abilities trying to save your body a little, but it is clearly having a hard time considering you still have a large gash on your forehead dripping sticky blood. 

He lifts your lifeless body into his strong arms and winnows to Madja’s healers’ cabin. He feels your pulse faintly but at least it is still there. A bit of panic flushes through his body when he realizes how long you have been in this state. And then anger washes over him, who could do this to someone so kind? He thinks harshly to himself.

Where are you, brother? A voice appears in his head, Not now Rhys. He responds sharply. 

Oh, at a pleasure house? Finally, taking up my advice? Don’t forget about family dinner. Rhysand quips back in a joking tone, to which Azriel blocks him out completely. 

He could not care less about family dinner more than he did right now. You limp in his arms freezing cold with blue lips and eyes faintly closed with what looked to be ice crystals around your lashes and eyebrows. You who have saved him from the brink of death on more than one occasion. You were all that mattered in this moment. 

When Madja finally helped you in, you were lying there with your chest softly rising on the bed. He couldn’t leave your side nor did he want to. 

“It is good you found her when you did,” Madja spoke to him. “She was getting to dangerous levels of freezing. Without her abilities, I am fairly certain her blood would have frozen.” 

Azriel winced and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t even know what she was doing here. I have never met with her in Velaris.” He responded softly.

“You know her?” Madja asked in the same tone.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, “Long time friends.” 

She nodded in response. “She should wake when she is warm enough. If there is anything else I can do just yell for me, but I will be in my office.” With that, she walks off and closes the door gently.

Azriel for once does not know what to do, sitting there feels like a waste of time when he could be hunting those down who did this to you. However, he does not want you to wake up alone and confused.

Then he thinks about how he is expected to be at family dinner with his happily mated brothers and the girl he thought he was infatuated with. He felt guilty for a moment thinking about his family being happy when you were lying here lifeless, but then felt anger towards someone he calls a brother. A pleasure house? He scoffs verbally. His soul aches for companionship but right now all that matters is when you wake up. 

a/n: it is a little guy but welcome to the prologue!

[ferrarirossa]

𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓾

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut/NSFW, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, cursing, size kink

summary: three words: Red. Like. Passion. But red is also the color of the car driven by Charles. Red is your lingerie, as red as your dirty thoughts about the Ferrari driver…

author’s note: do not copy or give credits

The smell of alcohol, loud music, people crowded together, temperature too high: the definition of a busy night. A night in Monaco meant this to you. Boundless fun and one-night stands with whoever came along.

After your breakup with your ex-boyfriend, your sweet and delicate personality has transformed into hate and lust personified. Temptress with your gaze, you conquer every boy who looks into your eyes, driving him crazy.

This one night seems long and empty just like the others. You enter the club, approach the bar counter, and ask for a Bloody Mary. The bartender can’t take his eyes off of you because of how gorgeous you look this evening.

With your cocktail in your hands, you wander around the place feeling observed differently than on other nights. You begin to feel in awe, your skin begins to sweat for no reason. You turn around to understand the reason for all this, and you are struck by a pair of sea-colored eyes that study every curve of your body highlighted by the red silk dress you are wearing.

Brown hair. Ice eyes. Sexy body under the black shirt that struggles to contain his muscles. Who is this man? His appearance seems familiar, but you had never noticed him in the different clubs you frequent almost every night, you would have noticed his gaze and his charm.

So you decide to move in his direction casually. You walk past him and look at him with cat eyes and out of the corner of your eye, you notice him getting up from the sofa where he was sitting just a few seconds ago, following you to the bar counter. When you’re about to ask for a second drink, you hear a familiar voice say: “I’ll pay for the young lady, she’s with me, thank you”.

You turn towards him, meeting his gaze directly toward your breasts. To attract his attention you say in a confident voice: “Oh yes? So are we together? Is today our anniversary by any chance?”

The sound of his laughter sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. His aura of mystery makes you moisten between your thighs. No one had ever succeeded until now. “Who are you? Why do you seem to already have a place in my mind if I have never met you?” you think in your mind. “So what are you waiting for to drink? Are you going to stare at me all night, princess?” he says, smiling mischievously and moving his gaze toward your thighs pressed together.

Suddenly your favorite song comes on from the speakers so you take his hands, take him to the center of the dance floor, and start purposely seducing him with your sexy moves. You notice his gaze moving toward your hips and then looking at your ass every time you turn your back to him while dancing.

The atmosphere gets hotter and hotter until the sound of his sensual voice reaches your eardrums as he whispers: “How about we go away for a while, princess?”

That nickname drives you crazy, it makes you even wetter and more in need of finding out everything about the man whose name you don’t even know. Placing his hand on the lower part of your shoulder, he guides you toward the exit in a confident manner, leading you to his car.

You can’t believe your eyes: it’s a Ferrari 488 Pista, titanium-colored with a livery featuring red and white stripes reminiscent of the Monaco flag. You already saw that car before. With his hand, he motions for you to get into the car. Still shocked, you enter and observe the interior of it, just as beautiful as the owner. As you look around, you fall into the swirls of his eyes, now just millimeters away from you, which immediately bring you back to earth. Then, without asking, he starts attacking your mouth with his kisses.

You immediately turn your head slightly to allow him access to your neck. You feel his teeth on your sensitive flesh stimulating your pleasure, your nipples stiffen, and your hands tighten on the leather of the seat. His hands instead roam all over your body, exploring every area still covered by the soft fabric of your dress, which is slowly becoming more and more wrinkled due to the contact with his powerful body.

He leaves two purple marks on your neck, you still feel his warm breath near your earlobe. Without wasting time, you bring your delicate hands near the zip of his pants. You too, without asking, slowly unbutton it, until you glimpse a protuberance trapped in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Without speaking, you look him in the eyes and he responds with a nod of approval, encouraging you to continue. You quickly lower his boxers below his knees and take out his cock, already full of pulsating veins visible from afar due to how excited he is. This vision makes you feel so horny that you let out a moan of pleasure without him touching you.

You begin to move your fingers up and down his length, and then focus more on his head with circular movements. With your other hand, you stimulate his testicles so that he dies from the pleasure of having you. Watching his head go back in pleasure and his moans mixed with excitement and lust sends you into ecstasy. You bring your mouth closer to his cock, first licking it lightly and then suddenly taking it all in your mouth until it reaches your throat. This sends him into a frenzy, so much so that he can no longer feel his legs. You watch his abdomen contract and his moans become louder and louder as he holds your hair forcefully, pulling it slightly toward him to make his cock go as deep as possible into your throat.

He cums all over your mouth and hands. You look at him with eyes full of appetite and continuing to look at him you lick all the liquid from him, tasting it and swallowing it. This gesture drives him crazy enough to tear your dress and then throw it somewhere. He is shocked by the color of your lingerie. Fiery red like blood, like the stitching of the seats of his Ferrari, like the sex you are about to have. Quite violently he turns you around to unbutton your lace bra. Your lush breasts enchant him, enough to invite him to leave hickeys right next to your nipples. Your cries of pain infused with cries of pleasure are music to his ears, his favorite tune. He leaves hickeys all over your abdomen until he reaches your inner thighs. He looks at you with his icy gaze for a second, then takes your thong with his teeth and pulls it down until your crotch is exposed.

He enters you without any warning, enough to make you scream so loudly that the people outside the club look around. Luckily the windows of his Ferrari are tinted to hide the obscenities you are doing inside. His pace is fast like his car, his moans resemble the roar of an engine. Together you create perfect music, harmonious notes that blend with the noise of your flash making contact. As he moves inside you he bites your earlobe and moves to your right collarbone. You have never been so at peace. For the first time, you forget all the pain of your past, this man is magical. His cock adheres perfectly to the walls of your vagina. “Fuck you’re so tight, you're perfect for me, princess”. You can’t even answer him, you can only let out a moan of pleasure. Suddenly you feel a knot in your stomach getting stronger and stronger and then you cum hard like never before. “This man is phenomenal”, you think. After a few seconds, he also cums for the second time, still shouting how wonderful you are.

“So? Don’t you ask my name?” he says. “Is it possible that you don’t remember me, princess?”. Immediately that nickname, his voice, his toned muscles, and his icy eyes come back to your mind. It's Charles Leclerc. The famous Formula 1 driver. Your first meeting? A night of fire like this. You have tried to track him down but since so much time has passed you lost all hopes. “Charles,” you say, your pupils widening as does your smile. “I have never forgotten you, princess”. “I hope you can forgive me, it took me a long time to find you, but here we are, perfect as we were that night, made for each other”. With eyes full of tears, you lie down on the seat starting to fantasize about a future together, about a life full of red and love.

[talaok]

A small bed

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: During a cold night at Nevermore, you seek shelter in your friend's, Xavier, room, but as it turns out, sleeping on a single bed in two, is not as easy as it sounds. Warnings: SMUT (protected sex and oral sex- female receiving-) a/n: Let's play a game. Guess who's depressed and has done nothing other than "write" and watch Wednesday for the past few days? Please find the answer in the following text.

It was so cold in the room. Those stupid wooden thin walls never actually isolated the building from the cold. Funny how the headmaster seemed to have money to donate to the Mayor's campaign but none to invest in the infrastructure she herself was managing. The bedroom was way too large and the ceiling way too high for the mere thermostat to be enough to fight the cruel Jericho's cold. You could hear Edvin's low snoring coming from the opposite side of the room. You wondered how she did it, how she could fall asleep with this temperature. Maybe it had something to do with her nature, and if that was it, you wished for a moment to have been born a werewolf too. Able at least to close your eyes without the fear you'll freeze to death in your sleep keep you from doing so. you sighed. there was no way you were gonna do it. The alarm on the nightstand indicated the time. 3:46, plastered in red lightning, the only thing illuminating the room besides the sheer light coming from outside, the moon still emanating her immortal glow through the branches. The howling of the wind seemed almost sinister, as it infiltrated from the window. You gripped the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, sitting up on the bed. There had to be something you could do right? You intently thought about it, as the cold spread itself all over your body. They were no more blankets, so that was a no. there was hot tea in the kitchen, but that meant stepping outside, where the cause of your suffering had originated, not to mention you were still going to have to come back to this infernal room after, so that was another no. the gears in your brain were desperately operating, trying hard to find a solution, but it seemed the temperature had compromised also them, not just your body, which was now trembling, as the only one they could find was the first one you had thought of, but had deliberately discarded. It's not like it was a bad idea, he would have said yes, you knew. there was just something about it that didn't convince you, a feeling or, better even, a presentiment, that made you doubtful on whether it was a good idea either. But you didn't have time to think about it as you slipped through the door, glancing one last time, at that shadow-filled space.

The sound resonated through the whole corridor as your knuckles met the door's hardwood. Silence filled it just moments after. It's not like you were expecting a prompt reply, or one at all for that matter. Light footsteps echoed in your ears just before the doorknob turned. "Y/n?" Xavier whispered, his voice still hoarse and full of sleep. "I know, I'm sorry. can I come in?" He frowned, visibly confused "Uhh, sure" "Thanks" you immediately sneaked in. He closed the door and leaned on it, still incredibly perplexed. "Did-did something happen?" "No, nothing like that" You smiled "I just-" you bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him "I can't sleep in my room. It's too cold." "Oh" he exhaled relieved, calming you with him. "I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry. I can go if you want" you said, realizing just now how crazy you must look. Showing up to his room at 4 in the morning trembling and without shoes on. "shit you're freezing" he noticed, immediately taking his bed's blanket and walking up to you. He was silent as he gently wrapped it around you, his hands remaining on your arms once you had gripped it. "Thanks" "don't worry." he shook his head. A sincere expression spread over his face, and you let yourself stare at it, loving the way he was doing the same. "so, can I stay here?" you asked again "Of course" he said, looking offended by the fact you even had to ask. He glanced at his bed, an eyebrow-raising itself "There's only one thing" he offered you an apologetic smile "There's only one bed. Rowan's old one doesn't have any blankets". You looked around. He was right. Only the single bed surrounded by drawing-filled walls seemed to be suitable to sleep in. Especially today. You laughed softly. It wasn't funny, well maybe just a bit, but most of all it was ironic. you had come here for shelter and the only one you had found was a very thin mattress you now had to share with someone else. You wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't for the fact that there was no other option. You definitely weren't going back to the hellhole you had just escaped from. "I think we can fit" "you sure?" "Well, we at least have to try" you said "If I go back to my room there's a 90 % chance that I'll die of hypothermia" "and we wouldn't want that" he chuckled, his thumbs stroking your arms through the cover. "no" you smiled "we definitely wouldn't". You liked looking at him, the moon illuminating only the left side of him, lightening his long amber hair to champagne ones. "all right then" he let his arms fall to his sides before indicating the way     "Ladies first" "Why thank you, kind sir" you grinned as you went to the bed, laying down on it. It smelled of him. His scent was soaked in the sheets and in the pillow and you immersed yourself in it as you closed your eyes. You liked it. More than you should have, probably. "comfortable?" he asked, and you nodded sleepily as your eyes stayed shut. He laughed softly at how cute you looked, peacefully sleeping in his bed, and a weird feeling invaded his chest. He didn't pay attention to it as he walked towards you. You felt the bed creek and move as he climbed on it, laying just beside you. You hadn't really understood how small the bed was when you had looked at it before, but as you laid here, your two bodies glued together, you realized just how wrong your estimate had been. Silence filled the room again as he set the cover on you both. You were still shuddering, it seemed like the cold had made its way into you and had now little to no intention of ever leaving you. "You're still cold" he whispered, his hand finding your arm again, just to caress it kindly. His touch felt like fire on your frozen skin. You opened your eyes, finding his already on yours. You swallowed nervously at how close you were, a few inches was all that separated you. If you hadn't been best of friends this would have looked romantic, you thought. But you were, so there was nothing to think about. "mh-mh" you nodded. "can I-" he murmured as he turned to lay on his side "I can hug you" he bit his lip "if that's ok" "Y-yeah sure. I'd like that" you said shyly and he smiled "ok" He scooted closer to you and you turned to your side, just like he had,  facing the wall. You admired the extremely detailed spider on the drawing in front of you as he put one of his arms around you, tightly holding onto your chest, pushing you against his, and the other under your head. His body was flat against yours, from head to toe following your body's position. You could feel every inch of his body, his hair brushing against your neck where his breath was giving you goosebumps, his chest moving up and down against your back, and his knees on the back of your legs. He was warm, and as much as you were grateful for the cold beginning to leave your body, you weren't thinking about it anymore. What you were thinking about, was his hand on your stomach, and your ass-well- your ass dangerously close to his crotch. You gulped, if you had been on the verge of falling asleep before, you doubted you were ever gonna do it now. You kept staring at the drawing as you let yourself melt into his touch, so gentle and yet so reassuring. It felt nice. More than nice actually. Your neck was starting to hurt and you readjusted yourself to get more comfortable, inadvertently moving closer to him, and well,  grinding against his lap. A small groan, clearly not intended for you to be heard, left his throat. "sorry" you whispered, faintly "don't worry" his hoarse voice traveled to your ears, as he tightened his hug. Shit. There was a weight on your chest and a familiar feeling in your belly, and you preyed that you would have fallen asleep soon, zeroing out all the possible mistakes that you were afraid you couldn't stop yourself from making, and that right now were all you wanted to do. All the thoughts passing from your head were things you knew you would have regretted later, like what would have happened if you ground again against his crotch, or if you turned and leaned just a few inches over, meeting his lips with yours. They were all potential, doable possibilities, that you could have explored in a matter of seconds, but you couldn't, you shouldn't. You were just tired, that was it. Xavier was your friend, and friends don't kiss each other, even if they really really want to. "Y/n?" a soft whisper in your ear. "Hm" you hummed "are you sleeping?" You turned your neck around, now really inches from his face, from his nose, eyes, and stupidly pretty mouth. "no" you answered There was a moment of silence, as he inspected your whole face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your mouth and then up again. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You had never understood that expression, but now, all of the sudden, it seemed to make a lot of sense. "are you feeling better?" "yes, thank you" He moved his hand from your belly and brought it up to your face "good" he murmured, as he stroked your cheek. You felt your cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. "I-" your voice died in your throat, as you forgot what you wanted to say. "You're very pretty you know?" he kept caressing your face "I don't think I've ever told you before" he smiled "but you really are" shit. He was making it really hard not to want to explore the possibilities. "I- thank you" you murmured. He looked at you, seriously now, penetrating and studying you, like he was really seeing you for the first time. "Y/n" he murmured, his eyes blinking slowly. "Xavier" you whispered too, before he slowly leaned over, indecisively getting closer and closer to your lips. you looked at him as he reached them, pressing his mouth on yours, in a chaste kiss. you barely reciprocated, still shocked this was actually happening. He leaned away, his eyes moving between your mouth and your eyes, desperately trying to understand what you were thinking, while also desperately wanting to kiss you again, this time, like he really wanted to. You looked at him, his beautiful eyes always so confident, now looked so hesitant. It was a weird image, a new one. You smiled subtly as you leaned over and pressed your lips with his, this time better, harder and more passionately as his hand on your cheek traveled to your hair. He stroked your hair as he kissed you lovingly, his warm mouth on yours, as you both closed your eyes. It felt like floating, like flying on cotton candy clouds. You had never felt something like this. he smiled as he leaned away, and you couldn't help but do the same. "you're a good kisser" he murmured" better than I expected actually" you gasped, pretending to be mad " you expected me to be bad? " you asked, realizing just at that moment something "and what do you mean by expected?" "well" he moved a lock of your hair behind your ear "let's just say there have been times when I wondered about this" "have there?" you grinned "yes" he kissed  you again quickly "there have been" " Good to know"  you bit your lip "and by the way, you're a good kisser too" "Oh I know" he chuckled, retracting his hand from under your head to place it on your shoulder, his fingers trailing on it. "I'm good at a lot of things" he looked at you. A fire burned in his eyes. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he kissed it uncaringly. His tongue infiltrated your lips as he forced your head together with his hand. You could taste him in your mouth, Xavier, all of him. from his toothpaste to the tip of the pencil he bit constantly. It was all there. "And do you want to show me those things you're so good at?" you said, surprising even yourself "pleeeease" he begged, desperation clear in his voice as he gripped your head one more time, kissing you hard and messily as he pushed you to lay down on the bed. He didn't waste any time as he got on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face, while his hands explored every inch of your body, leaving a trail of shivers with his touch. You whimpered as one of his hands found your breasts "We can stop if you want" "no. please no" He smiled "thank god" he lifted your shirt and sweater "I was just getting to the good part," he said, as he lifted it over your head with your help and shamelessly stared at your bare tits " fuck you're hot" he said bending down to spread kisses all over them while groping and caressing them hungrily. "so" he started kissing down your belly "fucking" he trailed down under the covers "hot" he said, kissing your fully clothed pubis. You moaned softly at the hint of a touch he just gave you. You were desperate "please" as I said, desperate "patience my dear" he whispered sarcastically, as he hooked the hem of your pants under his fingers, toying with it. You whined softly "a virtue you clearly don't possess" he chuckled under his breath as he slowly took your pants off, finally freeing you. he bent down immediately between your thighs, looking up at you smugly. You met his gaze and bit your lip. This was crazy. You were friends and had been such for so long, and apparently, all it took was a very cold night and a much too small bed to make you forget about it, and for him to end up between your legs. Fuck, he looked pretty that way. He brought you back to reality as he bent down and kissed your clit, still looking at you. You moaned softly, and then he did it again, this time for longer, and your moan became louder and kept doing so until he was sucking your clit and you were screaming his name, your hands gripping his hair and the sheets mindlessly. Lost in the pleasure he was provoking you He was looking at you mesmerized as you threw your neck back, your eyes shutting close and your mouth open, those filthy sounds coming out of it. Xavier thought he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. "you taste so good y/n" he said, his words vibrating against your cunt, as his fingers came up to your pussy, slowly moving towards the entrance. You cried out as they entered you, Xavier pumping them in and out relentlessly. A very dirty sound echoed through the room as he kept doing that, not even your voice able to cover it, as he went back to sucking and licking all he could find. "xavier" you mumbled "s-shit" you tried to speak, but the pressure forming in your belly distracted you "I-I'm coming" you finally spat out, and he smiled against your cunt "then cum y/n, come all over me" he stopped just to resume again, even harsher than before. You felt a knot in your stomach and as he scissored his fingers inside of you again, hitting your g-spot perfectly, it broke down. Making you come undone, loudly moaning his name as you came down from your high. "shit" you sighed incredulously, as he came back up to your face, pressing his lips with yours once again, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. "you weren't joking when you said you were good" you giggled, and he smirked "I'm a man of my word" his hand found your side again "now" he looked at you "let me show you my full potential" he said, making you laugh giddily, exited for what was about to come. His hands left you momentarily as he took off his shirt and just moments after, his pants. You had never seen anyone undress that quickly. He leaned over you to reach into one of his nightstand's drawers, his hand reappearing with a tinfoil package between his fingers, the same ones that were inside of you moments before. You squeezed your thighs shut, just at the thought He looked down at your legs and smiled knowingly, as he slid the condom on his cock. You weren't nervous. It was weird, usually, you were always nervous at moment like this but you felt safe, and more than a bit turned on. "you're gonna have to open your legs y/n" he raised an eyebrow, and you tilted your head to the side, biting down a smile "and what if I don't?" he bent down over you "then I'm gonna have to open them for you" he ghosted your lips. you swallowed thickly. Fucking shitty shit. Hot. That was hot. You spread your legs and he smirked smugly " so obedient" he joked and you rolled your eyes. "look at me" he commanded as he positioned himself at your entrance "I want you to look at me when I'm inside you" Your mouth slaked open but you still nodded "use your words" "ok" you answered finally, and he looked at you proudly before slowly pushing himself into you. A series of stroked and interrupted moans escaped your mouth as he bottomed out, filling you up completely. You were doing as he requested, looking at him intently as your face contorted in all sorts of expressions. "you're perfect" he sighed faintly, as he placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently " so fucking perfect" he looked at you, making your heart miss a beat. his lips twitched up into a very thin smirk as he started moving in and out of you slowly, his veiny cock wrapped tightly around your walls. "feel so good " he groaned as he quickened his pace. One of your hands flew to his shoulder as you gripped it to bring him down to you. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you did, as you hooked your arm beside his neck and reached up to kiss him desperately, leaving pointless little whines in his mouth as he kept thrusting into you. "shit Xavier" you cried out as he brought one of his hands down to circle your already overstimulated clit. "I know," he said without an ounce of real sorriness "just take it " he pecked your lips again "It'll be worth it" You were out of breath as you kept bouncing on his bed, your tits moving with you. his movements were fast and you were feeling so many things at once that you weren't sure you knew exactly where you were at the moment. The same knot from before was starting to form itself again. "you're coming" he said, through his panting, anticipating you. Some of his hair were stuck to his forehead, and his mouth was open, gasping for air in between his sporadical groans of pleasure. "mh-mh" you nodded desperately, your hips moving with his to get even more friction. "come baby" he murmured, the pet name echoing through your ears, and traveling straight down to your cunt "come for me" "oh god xavier" you had the time to murmur before a wave of pleasure overwhelmed you, a series of little fireworks exploding inside you as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm while letting you ride yours out. "fuck" he growled as his thrusts got more sloppy "you feel- so f-fucking good" he groaned, before with one final push, he came, a series of profanities leaving his mouth before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder. You smiled as you realized what had just happened, and when he raised his head, you could see he was doing the same. "I think the bed was too small" you grinned "What makes you say that?" he laughed

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?

For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits

**Not dark sorry**

Lady in Red (1) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k

One || Two || Three || Four

You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent. 

“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing. 

“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.

“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”

Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.

A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship. 

“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.

Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for. 

Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.

Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”

Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”

Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”

“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”

“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.

“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”

“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”

“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”

You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly. 

“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between. 

You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more. 

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around. 

You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.

“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”

You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”

His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos. 

But your wish was ignored.

 “Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”

You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña​?”

“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.

“Open your legs.”

“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”

“I would like you to please focus on driving.”

“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”

“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”

Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.

Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.

“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.

“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.

The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”

He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.

“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.

Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.

“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”

One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.

You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.

“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.

You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”

Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”

You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.

“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”

You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”

“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.

“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.

“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”

You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.

“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.

Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.

But he was persistent.

“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.

“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”

“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”

“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”

“No…”

“Why not?” he asked knowingly.

“Because…”

“Yes?”

You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”

“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”

His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”

You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.

“Just dinner.”

Click here for part two.

[reiding-writing]

Hey can i ask for cold!Reader where someone calls her heartless and stuff like that, cuz u know, she has that reputation, and then Spencer finds her crying and comforts her?? cuz she has feelings but it is hard to show them

BREAKING THE ICE [ONESHOT]

/ˈbɹeɪkɪŋ ðiː ɑ́js/

Sometimes people just cry, there doesn’t really have to be a reason. But when you have a reputation for being cold and uncaring, being emotionally vulnerable with other people isn’t very easy. Spencer doesn’t care though, he’ll get through to you either way.

spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.3k I series masterlist!!

WARNINGS: fem!reader, depictions of a panic attack, reader is a lil mean to spencer but it kinda comes with the territory

a/n: cold!reader is my roman empire i love writing emotionally complex characters man (i also feel the need to let everyone know that this fic was originally called ‘micheal in the bathroom’)

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ part two!!

You hated crying.

You hated the way it made you look, with tears staining your cheeks and a blotchy complexion from your fluctuating temperature, the way your shoulders trembled like a leaf in the wind.

You hated the way it made you feel, your throat tight and constricting your airflow, your head pounding with an impending headache from your irregular breathing and the constant dread at the idea of somebody finding you in the state you were in.

The worst part was you didn’t even have a valid reason to be crying. You hadn’t gone through a life-altering trauma, you hadn’t lost anyone, hell you hadn’t even had a mild inconvenience today; But here you were, crying in the unisex toilets during your lunch break, because apparently the gods had decided your life wasn’t miserable enough already.

Your hands gripped the edge of the sink like it was your only anchor to the physical world, your hands tensing so hard that your knuckles were turning white and the tips of your fingers were beginning to ache.

Your laboured breathing was echoing through the stalls, reminding you of just how pathetic you sounded and only amplifying that sinking feeling in your chest that decided to invade your mind for no apparent reason and rip your brain to pieces until the only thing you could think of was how horrible you felt.

You weren’t just crying anymore. It was like your body was trying to tear itself up from the inside out. And there was no reason for any of it.

Then there was a soft knock on the door, almost quiet enough that you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of your own anguish.

It was to be expected at some point you suppose, you’d locked the outside door instead of just locking yourself in one of the stalls, providing you with complete privacy for your breakdown but also inconveniencing the rest of the office by taking up twelve stalls instead of just one.

Still, you weren’t ready to unlock the door yet. There was no way in hell you were going to let one of your coworkers walk in and see you bent over one of the sinks like the pathetic failure you felt.

You had a reputation to uphold. They could find another bathroom to piss in.

You weren’t ‘heartless’ by any means, but you were strong, and that is what your coworkers needed to see, not this.

You didn’t mind being called an ‘ice queen’ by Morgan every morning if it meant that they didn’t see you like this. You didn’t mind keeping a barrier up between you and the rest of your team if it meant that you didn’t break down in front of them. But god sometimes you wished they’d see you as more than a wall of stone with no emotional capacity so that you could actually have someone to lean on in moments like this one.

But you suppose that half of it is your fault. They wouldn’t see you as some emotionally removed robot if you weren’t presenting yourself like that in the first place.

There’s another knock at the door, joined by a voice this time, Spencer’s voice, and it was calling your last name.

He was literally the last person you wanted to see.

Of all the people on the team, Spencer had been the one to slowly chip away at the obsidian shield you protected yourself with, and with no force whatsoever. He’d settled for taking place besides you and letting you acclimate to him in your own time. He never pried or pushed, he respected your boundaries and your wish to not get emotionally attached, and he never judged you for how you presented yourself to the world.

He was the best type of person that you could surround yourself with, and that made him the worst type of person for you to see right now.

You’re trying to compose yourself, not make your emotional rampage worse at the hands of someone so caring that your walls may as well be made of glass and have them shattered the second his breath hits their surface.

The knocking doesn’t stop whilst you mentally curse Spencer’s kindness in your head, nor does his voice, but he’s transitioned from calling your last name to calling your first. It’s not helping.

“I’m fine Reid,” You strain your voice so it doesn’t crack under the weight of your emotions, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face your reflection in the mirror. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” You can hear the concern lacing his voice even through the way it’s muffled by the two inches of wood between you. “The average time taken by women when going to the bathroom is 4 minutes and 39 seconds, you’ve been in there for over 12 now,”

Curse Spencer Reid and his inherent ability to make everything logical.

“I’m fine.” Even in a state of absolute distress you still manage to push absolutely everyone away.

“I really don’t want to pry but you don’t sound fine,”

“Reid, leave it.” You know he’s not going to. He might stop trying to verbally get you to admit your feelings, but you know for a fact that when you open that door he is going to be waiting for you on the other side.

You’d given Spencer a bit too much leeway in not enduring the wrath of your psychological defences, and now he’s slowly becoming impervious to your dismissals.

He’s not as intimidated by you as he was four years ago, and it is not doing wonders for your attempts at keeping people at an arms-length.

You’re going to have to face him eventually.

You take in a deep breath as you resign yourself to your fate, inhaling until you can feel the pressure of your lungs against your diaphragm and letting it out slowly through your mouth, forcing your heart rate to slow to an acceptable level as you swipe your index fingers under your eyes to rid your cheeks of the mascara stains painting your face.

You glare at yourself in the mirror as you try to make yourself look presentable again, wetting your hands and pressing them to your cheeks to cool down your face and fixing the wrinkles in your shirt from having been bent over in an awkward position for so long.

You’d say it worked to an extent, and the natural narrowing of your eyes in your resting expression helped to hide the pink irritation from you rubbing them constantly over the last ten minutes, but you worked with profilers, so you’re sure they’d be able to see right through you.

Alas, you’d made your bed by crying in the office bathroom in the first place, now you had to lie in it.

The clicking of the lock as you open the door stirs Spencer’s attention, and he stops leaning against the wall with a furrowed expression to stand straight in front of it like a pet waiting for their owner to come home.

You’re fairly confident in the stability of your emotional state as you open the door to enter back into the office, and that confidence is immediately ripped away the second you meet Spencer’s eyes.

The look on his face is nothing less than absolute concern for you, and it causes the wafer of your remaining emotional shield to disintegrate as soon as those hazel eyes lock onto yours.

You swallow back a lump that rises in your throat at his gaze, averting your eyes from him as you feel them prick with tears again and turning your body back in the direction of the bathroom you’d emerged from, fully intent on locking yourself back in there for as long as it takes for you to get yourself under control.

You cannot believe you just allowed Spencer to see you like that.

“Hey-” Spencer catches the door with his foot as you try to close it on him, most definitely causing him pain in the process from how quickly you tried to slam it behind you. But his expression didn’t show that, it continued to show that soft, sweet kindness that was entirely concerned for your well being. “You’re not fine…”

“No shit Sherlock-” You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you speak, your tone harsh and icy as you turn your head over your shoulder towards him. He knew it was an emotional defence mechanism, but it still stung just a little.

Spencer sighs softly as he follows into the bathroom after you, locking the door after him like you had done earlier to provide you with at least a bit of the privacy you desired. He wasn’t exactly sure to to approach the conversation about what you were feeling with you, afraid that if he misstepped he’d only push you further into your emotional pit of solitude.

“Did you know that a person’s emotional state is best presented in what they wear?” Resorting to statistics was always the first choice. “Studies have shown that the type and material that a person’s clothes are, as well as they way they’re worn, correlate with the type of emotions they are feeling,”

You’re wearing a shirt and slacks, which most would agree was fairly typical office attire, he was wearing almost exactly the same. But you’d undone an extra button on your collar today, presumably to try and help alleviate the restricting feeling against your throat, and your slacks were wide-legged instead of straight-legged like usual which was likely again to try and help with the constriction you were experiencing.

If he had to wager a guess, he’d say you woke up on the brink of an emotional breakdown today, which meant that it wasn’t caused by something that had happened during the day. That usually left the only explanation as something much deeper at play than just some off-hand experience.

“And let my guess, my clothes are displaying complete patheticness?” You gesture your hands exaggeratedly as you turn around to face him once more, the tears rolling down your cheeks illuminated underneath the overhead lighting. “Because that’s how I feel right now,”

“Being upset doesn’t make you pathetic at all-” Spencer sounds genuinely offended at the idea of you finding yourself pathetic for feeling regular human emotions. There was nothing wrong with crying or being emotionally overwhelmed. “It’s a beneficial part of human nature,”

“It doesn’t feel very ‘beneficial’ to me,” You lean your lower back against the line of sinks as you continue to blow of his attempts at opening an emotionally vulnerable conversation with you, but you also weren’t completely shutting him down either.

Spencer takes a step closer, his eyes still filled with genuine concern. "I know it might not feel like it now, but allowing yourself to feel and express these emotions is healthy. It's okay to not be okay sometimes."

You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a bit of the tension ease out of your shoulders at his words. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to stop pretending everything was fine when it wasn't. "I just... hate feeling like this," you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer nods in understanding, his expression softening even more. "I get it, I really do. But you don't have to hide what you’re feeling because you’re trying to protect yourself. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment you feel like your mind is just going to give in and forget everything that had become a staple of your character so that you could feel that emotional connection that you knew was going to be good for your mental health.

But if wasn’t exactly that easy.

You offer him a small, tentative smile, grateful for his unwavering support even though you weren’t going to actually take it. Not entirely anyway. "I appreciate that,"

He returns your smile with one of his own, small and awkward and the perfect encapsulation of Spencer’s character. “Of course,”

He knew you weren’t just going to magically change your personality and start emotionally leaning on him, but he was glad that you were acknowledging his efforts in at least trying to be a pillar of support for you.

You’d stopped crying now, so that was a good sign in itself that the conversation had benefited you in some way or other, and for now, that was enough.

You could think about the complications later.

part two!!

[pickingupmymercedes]

“you’re so warm.” blurbs with lewis. reader is pregnant and the hormones is acting up so she's dying to give love bites on lewis' neck.

That was fun, maybe it has its own part 2 someday. Hope you like it anon!

"You're so warm"

The sun was beaming down on the sleek lines of their yacht, the Mediterranean Sea shimmering like it always did. Y/N, laid down on a chaise lounge in a breezy sundress, tried her best to relax.

Keyword: tried.

The reason for the unrest? Lewis, of course.

He was striding across the deck, phone on his hands, a mischievous grin plastered on his face, while he sported a pair of swim shorts, the kind that left very little to the imagination, and his adorned abs.

Y/N knew for a fact there were paparazzi lurking somewhere nearby, their long lenses trained on Lewis, as photos of their little summer getaway had already filled the gossip pages.

"Lewis?” she called out; her voice laced with mock sternness despite the fluttering in her stomach "care to explain why you're practically mooning the entire Italian coastline?"

Lewis chuckled, sauntering over to her with a playful strut "Just catching some rays, love" he winked. He leaned down, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Besides, who says I can't share the beauty with the world?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow and glared at him. He knew damn well what she meant. But still there he was, flaunting his abs to the world to see as she tried to hide the small, but very visible, tiny bump on her stomach.

"You are a menace," she mumbled, but couldn't help a smile tugging at her lips. He had been extra playful and carefree during the trip, a constant reminder of one of the many reasons she had chosen him.

"Jealous?" he teased, leaning in closer.

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. "You know I haven’t been the best at resisting you lately" she admitted, unable to tear her eyes from him, and succumbing to the urge of running her fingers across the expanse of his sculpted chest.

Lewis's grin widened. "Well then," he murmured, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "how about I give you a private show later?"

Y/N's whole face and neck flushed, her body temperature going up by at least a couple degrees. "Don't tempt me" she warned, though her voice lacked conviction.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. "You’re so warm, babe. Something the matter?"

Y/N responded with the mischievous glint in her eyes. The pregnancy hormones, their new constant source of amusement and occasional bewilderment, were at it again.

"As a matter of fact" she declared puffing out her chest. Reaching out, she pulled him to her on the lounger, his arms holding his weight just above her as she gently nipped at the exposed skin just below his ear, leaving a faint mark.

Lewis yelped, more in surprise than pain, his hand flying to the exposed skin of her thighs. "Babe" he exclaimed, his voice sounding just like a warning more than anything.

She giggled, the sound his favorite melody. "There," she said, feigning satisfaction. "Now everyone knows who you belong to."

Lewis mused her a grin "Alright, alright," he conceded, shaking his head but unable to hide his amusement. "You win this one, love." He pulled her close, her warmth enveloping him.

"What’s my prize?" Y/N murmured, nuzzling into his chest.

"Tell you later" he teased, nuzzling back.

______________________________________________________________

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[written-in-flowers]

His Mistress: Demon!Jongho x Fem!Reader

Pairing: demon!Jongho x Fem!reader

Genre: smut, some angst/fluff

Word Count: 11k

Summary: YN takes to her new status as "Lady" very well. Yet, even as she edges closer to her former self, YN cannot help feeling the loneliness of the big keep. Only her servant, Jongho, could reassure her that even if she's in Hell, she isn't alone.

Tags: sub!jongho, switch!reader, mistress/servant synamic, 69-positions, bondage, restraints, monster fucking, demon fucking, light bdsm, rough oral, oral sex, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, thigh fucking, pet names, nipple play, dirty talk, tiny bit of squirting, exhibitionism(?), reader's first time as a femdom, emotional hurt/comfort, reader gets angsty at one point, childhood guilt, childhood trauma, mentions of abuse,

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

***

“You remind me of a bear sometimes.”

On the ledge of your bathroom window, you watched Jongho prepare your morning bath. He wore his usual butler uniform with its tailored lines and shiny buttons. You couldn’t help seeing it while you looked at him. His square shoulders, his round cheeks and height gave him the presence of one. The fact he smelled like pinewood in fresh air strengthened the image. 

“A bear?” he scoffed in a laugh. “What makes you say that?”

“Your size,” you thought out loud. “Your body and what’s in your pants.” 

Even with his back turned to you, you knew he’d blushed. No matter how many times he’d seen you nude, been close enough and alone long enough, Jongho kept his distance. The moment in the bathroom was as far as he’d gone with you. Not that it bothered you. It felt nice knowing not everyone in the house desired you that way. 

“Bears are meant to be scary,” he said, testing the water with his hand before deciding the temperature suitable. He looked over at you, brown hair hanging in his eyes, “Are you saying I’m scary?”

“To the wrong people, I’m sure you are.” 

You walked to the tub, removing your thin chemise in the meantime, and stepped into the bubbly bathwater. Jongho appeared more than shocked when he woke up to the state of you and your bed. The peonies and vines you’d grown last night covered most of the bed; the moss parts acted like a blanket that trapped your body heat inside. The fact you'd gone to bed muddy bothered everyone but you. The dirt on your body felt more like a second skin than grime. You thought about staying that way until Jongho insisted you clean up.  

Everything that happened yesterday came back in a blurry haze, staying in emotions and sensations than mental pictures. You thought you might have dreamed it all. You expected to wake up to Hongjoong’s kisses on your skin again, about to spend the day with San next. Your experience in the greenhouse felt akin to a religious experience. In the dirt and plants, an epiphany came. You aren't a slave. You are a goddess. A goddess of the trees. You'd dreaded waking up that morning in case it didn't really happen. However, you only woke to a stunned Jongho. 

“I meant it in a kind way,” you inhaled the steaming scents coming from the water, “It’s comforting.” The water felt better than before. With it located near the windows, the sunlight energized you. 

“How so?” Jongho took a gentle bath poof, and began washing you. He’d used the orange blossom oil this time. You soaked your lungs in the aroma, letting it wash over you along with the cloth. 

“Sometimes…” you paused, unsure whether to be honest. “Sometimes, I feel alone here.”

“Alone? Psh, hardly, YN. You’re always around us and The Masters.”

“But even then, it can be lonely at times,” you said. “People around here usually talk to me just to end up sleeping with me. I’m not complaining, because it’s great, but…”

“It sucks when that’s all that happens?”

“Yeah,” you admitted in a groan. Lifting your other arm from the water, Jongho ran the wet cloth over your skin. “I wish they knew I was more than my body. They all talk as if we’re deeply in love, but they hardly know anything about me. They only know the bad things I’ve done, not anything else. If it wasn’t sexually related, they didn’t ask about it. Seonghwa might dig a bit deeper but that’s because he’s used to peeling back people’s layers.”

“Well,” Jongho let you sit up to wash your back, “That can change now. You’re not a slave anymore. You’re a Lady of Eden, and that’s not an empty title.”

“It’s not?”

“Psh, not at all. Lilith is a pretty important figure in Inferno,” he went from back to front, “She’s King Lucifer's only daughter, so naturally she is a princess. You’re one of her granddaughters, so you get the title of ‘Lady’.”

“Wow,” you soaked in the information, a giggle in your throat, “I’m a lady.”

“A beautiful one at that,” he said. 

“Aw, Jongho,” you cooed, pinching his cheek. 

He laughed softly. “You don’t have to go to breakfast, if you don’t want to. You can do whatever you want without their permission. You could even go outside the keep if you wished. You aren’t a slave anymore, Mistress. You’re a lady, and you will be treated like one.” 

You rested your arm on the edge, head on top of it, and you grinned at him. “That means I can do whatever I want, right?”

“Absolutely. You don’t even have to go through with the schedules they’ve given you.”

“What a relief that’d be!” you blurted out to his laughter. “San has me do ‘housewife’ duties but not actually do them at the same time? It makes no sense. Cook also hates it when I go into the kitchen, but I have to on San’s days.” 

“Don’t take that too personally,” he said. “Cook doesn’t like having anyone in the kitchen. He doesn’t even like the other cooks being there.” 

“Hongjoong and Seonghwa don’t make it easy either,” you continued. “Seonghwa always wants to talk about things that happened in the past. His schedule feels like school, and Yeosang can be the worst.” Even with the last lesson going better than anticipated, you hated it nevertheless. “I can’t play music I like. I can’t read books I like. It only has to be the boring, classical stuff that nobody understands or cares about. Hongjoong just wants to fuck all the time. Literally, everything with him is sexual to one degree or another. I don’t normally complain about it, since it’s mind blowing, but it’d be nice if…if we just sat and talked. It'd be nice to know them and for them to really know me. It's stupid that it takes me being their equal to earn that, but it's a start.”

“It certainly is. The Masters have always respected you, Mistress. They only had good intentions with you.”

“I'm sure that was true but it never felt that way. Jongho,” you addressed him, “I spent my entire life living under someone else. I had to go by their rules and their standards. I only got power after I took it from them. For once, I felt important. I felt good. The only rules I lived by were my own. Then I came here, and became that nobody again. I ended up in this pretty cage to dance and bend over whenever they wanted. It's…”

“Restraining? Suffocating? Exhausting?”

“Yes,” you sighed, sinking back into the water. “I was somebody, Jongho.” 

“I’ve heard,” he said, rubbing the loofa over your feet and toes. “A big hotshot businesswoman who conned people out of their money.” 

“I wanted to be something more. I didn’t want to grow up to be my mother: getting pregnant right after college, working and slaving away to scrape by and putting up with an abusive husband.” It turns out, you’d been completely wrong about that. “I wanted more from life. I saw she was a little nobody, and decided I’d be the opposite. I became friends with the popular kids at school; I dated the hottest boys, wore trendy clothes, and everyone knew me. When I graduated, I became a mail worker at a big corporate place. I managed to get a desk job after I paid a friend to falsify documents and degrees for me to use in resumes.”

“Then, you went on to become a stock broker.”

“In the worst way,” you said. Your previous life came back to you in the warm water and Jongho’s gentle touches. “I once got a girl fired so I could take her manager position. I made it look like she’d been stealing important documents from the big boss’s desk. He was paranoid that the competition was ‘stealing secrets’ from us. All I did was make it seem like she worked for them, and he fired her on the spot. I got the promotion, and earned more money.” 

“What happened to her?”

“Have no idea,” you shrugged. A pang of guilt hit you thinking about it. “I assume she got a job elsewhere. It wasn’t like she couldn’t get one.”

“It was still a dirty move to pull.”

“But I pulled it.”

“So, the big boss just believed you? He didn’t investigate himself?”

“Yup,” you shut your eyes, enjoying his caresses on your body. “He said I was the only person he could trust.”

“Huh, that’s interesting.”

“Why?”

“You’d think somebody who is paranoid of everyone wouldn't blindly trust an office assistant.”

“I spent a lot of time around him. It's easy to manipulate people when you know what moves them. His happened to be his big ego and attention.”

Henry should have known better, in your opinion. Eventually, you ended up leaving the company after his wife found out about you both. It surprisingly worked in your favor since a friend of Henry’s took you on as his office manager. You don't feel good about it now, but at that moment it brought you on top of the world. The men who sought to control and own you became your puppets. They danced to your tune, all with the hope of gaining your love and affection. Some genuinely wanted a relationship, but you never went for them. You wanted to live without attachment back then, but as you thought to yourself, perhaps that wasn't so true anymore. 

You'd lived an shallow, empty life.

Jongho sunk his hand down to your thighs, which made you jump at first contact. He didn’t do it with the sexual caresses of your masters or Yeosang. Jongho remained precise and professional. 

“You don’t like it?” you asked him, seeing his flustered cheeks. 

“Like what?”

“Touching me there.”

“Oh, that…Um, I mean…Of course…”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you said. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“No, no, you are,” he stammered. “You are my cup of tea, for sure.”

You giggled. “That’s hard to believe when everyone’s gotten a sip but you.”

“I had my sip,” he said. “I sipped it right here.”

“You only watched.”

“So did Yunho.”

“Yes, but he’s hardly around me. You’ve had plenty of opportunities and haven’t given in.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No, just curious.”

“I suppose because I can control myself when the others can’t,” he shrugged. “You were the Master’s pet, not mine.”

You leaned against the edge of the tub, bringing yourself within inches of him. “But I’m not anymore,” you said, moving closer to him. “I’m sure I can take up as many pleasure slaves as I wish. Would you if I put a collar on you?” 

He laughed shyly, “Is that even a question? Naturally.”

“At least you can control yourself,” you noted. “If any of the others were here, they’d bury their faces in my pussy.” 

“I understand I have a job to do,” he said. “Things like that can be saved for another time.”

“You mean when there’s no schedule or hurry to get somewhere?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “If I want to do anything with you, I’d wait until there’s plenty of time. I don’t want to rush through it.”

You grinned, rolling on your side to face him. “You want to enjoy me the right way.”

“Yes. You deserve that.”

“I do?”

“You’re always being fucked in a hurry,” he said. “The other servants do it in between schedules or when the masters are already going at you. I like to go at my own pace.” 

“How sweet,” you said. “It’s nice to know for future reference.”

He finished cleaning you up, and you stood from the water. Despite what he’d said, you saw the way Jongho’s eyes lingered on your naked body. You never got over their lust for you. You’d lived in the keep for three months, and you still caught them looking at you. You swore they watched you through the mysterious peepholes around the place. It boosted your mood whenever you managed to arouse one of them, even if momentarily. With your new status, you knew you could manipulate that. The charms you’d worked on weaker men seemed to work on full-blooded demons as well. 

You couldn’t wait to see how well it works. 

Leaving the bathroom, Jongho took you to the dressing room. Wooyoung already picked out the ‘San’ outfit of the day: a light green dress with its cinched waistline, frilly full skirt, and closely snug bodice. The pretty, elegant housewife that San adored. It disgusted you. Turning to Wooyoung, you put your hands on your hips and said:

“Yeah, I’m not wearing that.”

“What?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. He turned to Jongho, “She’s kidding, right?”

“I’m the one talking, and no, I’m not kidding. I’m not June Cleaver. I’m not wearing this.” 

“Master San-”

“-Can wear it if he likes it so much. I want something newer, something more modern, and doesn’t constrict me.” Visions of a former, fully-human YN sprung back to you in a series of fond memories: Going to dance clubs with friends on weekends; taking drives around town listening to music and smoking cigarettes. “I want to wear high-waisted pants and shorts again; ripped knees, lacy shirts and leg warmers. I want bright, funky colors and makeup styles. I want my teased hair or in tight curls or whatever I’m into at the moment. I want the elegance of Princess Di and the sexiness of Madonna. I want to be cute and feminine like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles.” You thought about it with longing, “I want to be me again.” 

Wooyoung nodded, hand on his chin as he considered your request. “An 80’s babe, huh? I can make that work. I’ll need time though.”

“That’s fine,” you said. “I’m sick of being dressed up like a Barbie doll. I’m more than that.” 

“Then what are you wearing today? Nothing?” 

You looked around the dressing room. For once, you browsed the different outfits yourself. Seonghwa’s styles bordered between lolita dolls to elegant rich girls. Hongjoong like the hot goth girl with fishnets and lace. San, as you knew, liked full skirts and heels. No. None of that. You found a button down in Seonghwa’s section, white with a red polka dot design. With scissors from the nail kit, you cut it across, creating a loose crop top. You discovered a pair of distressed acid wash shorts in Hongjoong’s part, which you paired with a white belt with a crescent-moon buckle. Simple white sneakers remained hidden behind San’s shoe collection, which you tied on yourself. 

“Accessorize,” you said next, grabbing oversized hoop earrings, multiple bangles and necklaces. 

Excitement shoots through your nerves as you put yourself together. It reminded you of nights out with friends or trips to the mall. 

“Oh my god, I remember doing stuff like this at the mall!” you sighed fondly, slipping on several bangles. “I’d go there every weekend with my friends and we’d shop around, try stuff on, get food at the food court, hang out and gossip. It was the best,” you beamed.

“Like a true 80’s teen.”

You turned around, and Wooyoung wore a bright, wide smile. Shaking his head, he had clasped hands over his mouth as he took you in. He let out a cheer, clapping as you twirled in front of him. 

“Get in the chair, girl,” Wooyoung said, excited beyond belief. “Get in the chair. I know exactly what to do. Jongho, get my hair kit.”

You’d never seen the stylist so ecstatic before. 

“I have been dying to experiment!” he confirmed, working gel through your hair. “I love a good lolita style or a punk rock look, but gosh it got so dull. Where’s the pizzazz? The flare? The fire? Everything looked so dated! If I had to make one more frilly dress, I was going to puke.”

By the time Wooyoung finished, you felt refreshed. Staring at yourself in the long mirror, you didn't feel like a slave anymore. You might as well be at Saks, trying on new clothes for your wardrobe after being at the salon. You twirled again, trying to see it from all angles before deciding you loved it. 

“It's gorgeous!” you beamed, fixing your hair around your face. The old you. The one who didn't wear a collar or work in a brothel. Happiness swelled in your chest, burning your eyes with tears. “I love it so much! It's absolutely wicked!” you turned to Wooyoung, jumping and hugging him tightly. “You're the best!”

“Thank you, I know.”

“I need more,” you told him, still in his arms. “I need so much more. How soon can you have it done?”

“Next week,” Wooyoung said. “Any icon you want in particular?”

“Surprise me.”

“Done.”

He kissed both your cheeks, snapped his fingers for his assistants to pack up everything. Wooyoung made a box with his fingers, eyeing you through it like a photographer does to their subject. 

“It's totally inspired,” Wooyoung said happily. “I'm going to make you an absolute icon. Everyone will be talking about it. Everyone, everyone, everyone!” 

“That's exactly what I want.”

“Good. Come by my shop tomorrow. We can go over designs together.”

“Perfect!”

You saw the clothes people wore in the city. It spanned between medieval and contemporary, but mostly remained drab and dark. You didn't mind a bit of black from time to time, though not every day. Fluffing up your hair again, you left the dressing room and walked to breakfast. You knew you'd be late, and that Cook will grumble when you change your menu, but you didn’t care. A light, airy feeling came over you, making you feel positively giddy. 

“Today is the start of something great, Jongho,” you smiled going down the stairs. “I can feel it!”

“Absolutely, Mistress. I'm glad to see it.”

When you walked into San's dining room, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered more. Sitting at his usual spot at the table, coffee and breakfast in front of him as he read a newspaper.

“Morning!” you said, strutting into the dining room with hopes that he'd notice you. The daisies in the centerpiece did. You didn’t know how, since they didn’t move, but they did. 

“Morning, Darling,” he said, sipping his coffee and continuing to read. “You took quite a while. I thought I was going to have to go to your dressing room myself. Wooyoung being indecisive again?”

“Not really,” you stood in front of him, “He and I were collaborating on something new.”

“Oh? Like what?” When he finally put the paper down, his face dropped. San sat there taking you in for a minute or so before he spoke. “This is certainly a change.” 

“A big one,” you grinned. “Do you like it?”

“Does my opinion matter?” he said, unable to look away from you. 

“Of course it does,” you said, sitting down in front of him. Jongho poured your coffee and set out the cream and sugar for you. You began fixing it yourself, “I might not be your slave anymore, but I still care about you. I hope you’d feel the same?”

“Yes, you little fool,” he said with a slight head shake, smiling softly. “I'd never stop caring for you, Darling. I can still call you that, can I?”

“I kinda like it, so yeah,” you beamed, getting a sip of coffee. Jongho served your breakfast, a spinach omelet with nothing else. “Yeah, I'm not eating this. I want pancakes and bacon.”

“But, um, the masters planned healthy meals for you, Mistress,” Jongho said timidly. “I’m not sure if Cook can go outside the plan.” 

“Tell him that he can, and he will because I want crispy bacon and a stack of fluffy pancakes.” 

Jongho glanced at San, and you knew what he was asking. Even with your new status, you needed permission.

“With some eggs, at least?” San suggested to you. 

“Eggs are fine. Could you tell Cook I'd like pancakes, eggs and bacon, please?”

“Right away, Mistress.”

He took your plate back and left in a puff of smoke. San still grinned in amusement over his newspaper. 

“Someone's changed overnight,” San noted, surprised by your new attitude. “You took to your new status easier than I thought you might.”

“It isn't much different to my previous life,” you shrugged, fixing your coffee on your own. “I just get called ‘Mistress’ instead of ‘Ma'am’.”

“What about the clothes upstairs?” he asked. “We paid a lot of money for those. I'd hate to see them get wasted.”

“I can still wear some of them,” you said. You took a sip of your coffee, and hummed at the sweetness. “I'll keep the ones I like. I'm tired of rotating the same outfits because you three wanted to dress me up like a doll. Everything in that closet is so old and lame. You wanted me to shine, but I was doing anything but that.”

“If you hated your dresses-”

“-I didn't hate them. They just weren't me.”

“Well, if you wanted something else, you could have asked me. I would've had Wooyoung make you new things.”

“I didn't know I could.”

“I'm not Seonghwa,” he said, going back to his coffee and newspaper. “I don't mind bending my own rules every so often. I told you I wanted you to be happy.”

“I thought you meant the type of happiness you approved of at the time.”

“No. I want you to be whatever type of happy you feel.” He then said, “Even if you prefer sleeping in a greenhouse now.”

“I didn't sleep there.”

“One of the maids said your bed is covered in flowers and moss.”

“That kind of happened on its own? I was thinking about my mother again and she loved peonies. I guess that extended to the vine I had on my arm.”

“That is one thing we hoped you'd at least want to do,” he said. “We don't know the extent of your powers yet. You need to learn how to control them the way other demons do. We can't have doors getting blown off whenever you throw a tantrum.”

 “How would I do that?”

“With a mix of people.”

“Like?”

“Yeosang, Yunho, Mingi, Seonghwa, Hongjoong and myself,” he said, “To name a few. In a way, they are still those lessons you hated but now actually things you need. It won't be easy, but we'll be there to help you.” He noticed the wilting daisies, and said, “Let's do something now: truly making those healthy again.”

“They are pretty sad,” you frowned, looking at the flowers in their tiny vase. “The vase is too small for them and nobody’s changed the water.” 

“You can make them grow. Give it a shot.”

You reached out to the lowest hanging one. Delicately, you touched one of its smooth petals, seeing where it began withering away. You smiled when gradually, the small bundle began filling with color again. Their stems turned their normal green, and the tiny buds along the stems bloomed right before your eyes. 

“There…” you smiled at the flowers, “All better.” 

“Plant manipulation,” San concluded. “That much is obvious. With a bit more training, we can find out what other abilities you have hidden inside you.” 

“Does Yeosang have to be there?” 

He chuckled, “Not all the time.”

Jongho brought your breakfast, and you groaned at the sight of it. “I always used to get pancakes after a night out,” you said, drizzling syrup on them. “Nothing's better than stuffing your face after getting plastered.”

San smiled as he watched you eat your breakfast. He took in your new look and attitude from afar. You're sure he'd hoped you'd keep wearing the dresses, but he knew you wouldn't. You'd broken free of your collar, and you'd never do what you didn't want to again.

“Before you go gallivanting around the city,” he said, finishing his coffee and breakfast, “You'll have to go to the registration office. You have a meeting with Jackson.”

“The department head guy?”

“That's him. He has paperwork you need to read through and sign.”

“Ugh, even in Hell you can't escape red tape.”

“It's an essential part to the system unfortunately,” he agreed. 

“Do you have paperwork? I'm not even sure what it is you do there.”

“I work the battleground most days,” he said. “But, there are days where I commentate instead so yeah, there's paperwork sometimes. You know, reading off the list of challengers and fighters, knowing their stats and skills.”

“So, like sports?”

“Yeah. Everyone goes to the arena, so there’s also ticket sales, concessions, and other boring financial stuff too. It's the worst part of it.”

“Can I go sometime?”

“You're free to do as you like.”

“But I still want to ask. I'd be a dick if I showed up without you wanting me to be there.”

“Why would I not want you there? I'd love to have my Darling cheering me on from the stands.”

“I don't know,” you shrugged. “I had a boyfriend who hated it when I showed up to his football practices. He said he felt embarrassed because his teammates would talk about me.”

“Shitty boyfriend then.”

“Very. I dumped him a week later.” 

San laughed, and you began discussing previous partners. Talking to him as normal couples do felt refreshing. The barrier between master and slave lifted and you became equals. Whether they liked it or not, they had to address you like a person.

“I am going to miss coming home to you,” he said as you walked with him to the apartment door. “I liked walking in to see you all dolled up and waiting for me. It felt nice.”

“I’ll still be here when you come back,” you told him. “It’s not like I’m going to completely throw out everything.” You wrapped your arms around his midsection, “I’ll always want to have dinner and spend time with you. That part doesn’t change.”

“Like I said, the schedules were Seonghwa’s dumb idea,” San assured. He kissed your forehead, “I didn’t mind you having freedom. Now, it seems I have no choice in it anymore.”

“Not entirely,” you kissed his lips, then said, “Have a good day.”

“I will now that I’ve gotten kisses from you.”

“Ugh, you’re so corny sometimes,” you laughed. 

“You love it.” 

You both said goodbye again, and you turned to Jongho who stood behind you. “San says I have a meeting with someone named Jackson?”

“You do,” Jongho nodded. “Yunho gave me the news in the kitchen. He’s expecting us soon. Unless, you’d rather not go?”

“It sounds important, so we should probably go,” you said. “I love a little city excursion. Go get Mingi and bring a car around. I’ll go grab a purse.”

“Will do, Mistress.”

He disappeared and you left the apartment. Purse options being quite limited, you chose one and transferred things from the last one. Determined to make the most of your day, you’d go to the boring meeting, then do something fun. You didn’t know what yet, but Jongho might have an idea or two.

****

Demon transportation varied depending on taste. Hongjoong liked the sleek luxury vehicles befitting a rich boy; Seonghwa’s white and gold carriages reminded him of his times in mortal world; San drove old fashion muscle cars and motorcycles. You remembered from times in the city that demons drove all kinds of cars and bikes. Taxis could be cars or horses and buggies. In the backseat of a fancy black car, you watched the multiverse of Inferno move past you. On paved roads, you saw the metropolis demons created for themselves. You learned fashion spanned centuries: you saw men dressed like Roman gladiators and women dressed in the height of Victorian style. One street vendor wore a jester’s costume and sold peppermint sticks and hard candies. A couple strolling the market district wore the Korean hanboks of kings and queens. 

“I never realized how diverse this place was,” you said to Jongho. He sat beside you while Mingi drove down the street. Your bodyguard never refused a trip into the city. “People really just kept on living whatever life they lived upstairs.”

“It was a lot easier than adapting to a new society, I suppose,” Jongho shrugged. “Not many demons like admitting it, but when we started going up into the living world, we picked up a lot of human customs. Everything from fashion to music to sports and entertainment. We sort of absorbed it then regurgitated it back out.” 

“Mingi mentioned that to me yesterday,” you said, staring out the window. “It’s messed up. Demons like looking down on humans, but they actually take so much from us. They hate us, but won’t admit how much they actually need us.”

“Us?” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“And not all demons hate humans,” he said. “I quite like them. They’re fun to mess with.”

“In what way?”

With a click of his fingers, the purse on your lap vanished before your eyes. Before you could protest, you saw it in Jongho’s hand. He gave you a mischievous smile, handing you the bag back, “You should’ve seen what I could do in the living world.”

“Huh?” 

“Up in the living world, I used to possess people and cause general mischief,” he shrugged, “No big deal.”

“Sounds like a big deal,” you snorted. “What’s it like possessing someone?”

“It varies,” he said. “Some people made it incredibly easy while others put up a fight. You kind of have to linger around for a bit and do stuff. You know, like opening all the drawers in their house, making weird sounds, and the usual tricks. Professionals know to start with the soft stuff before pulling out the big guns.”

“You mean general ghost stuff to make them think it’s a poltergeist or a spirit and not a demon?”

“Precisely. It’s all in the mind games. Get them paranoid. Gaslight them and make them see stuff or question their own sanity little by little. Ooh, and if it’s a couple?! Double the pleasure, double the fun,” he laughed, delight in his soft eyes. “I used to like turning them on one another. The negative energy really opens up the gateway into possession. Then, when you finally got ‘em good and angry, then the fun begins for real.” 

“Tell me more,” you insisted. 

Jongho then divulged into various possession stories. He told you about the young man he took on a crime spree across South Korea. He mentioned the young couple he terrorized for months before they found a priest unafraid of demons. He delivered every story with the same delight a person does with fond memories. It felt good sitting next to him, listening and talking without sex being involved. You enjoyed a good fuck as much as anyone, but must it be every time?  

“Did you ever possess anyone, Mingi?” you asked, resting your head on the partition window. 

“Nah, not my thing,” he shook his head. “It feels like wearing someone’s old, dirty clothes. It’s gross to me.”

“Have you done it?”

“A few times. It’s sort of a right-of-passage thing for younger demons,” he answered. “It’s expected.”

“Oooh, can I possess people?” you asked, excited.

“Nope,” Jongho said from behind you. “You’re part-human, Mistress.” 

“I have demon blood though.”

“Not enough for you to enter another person’s mind and corrupt their spirit,” he smiled at your excitement. “Besides, you don’t need to possess someone to get them to do what you want. You have your charms and your lips to do that.”

“My kisses just make people horny. That’s not that special.”

“I’m sure if you experimented, Mistress, you’d be able to do more than control a person’s genitals with those lips.” 

“You think I can control people?” you asked, sitting back in your seat beside him. “Like, their minds?”

“Maybe. I’ve seen it done. We’d have to test it as we go.”

“And here we are,” Mingi interrupted, stopping the car outside an office building. 

You might be back home on the way to work if it weren’t for the eternal smog covering the skies and the constant heat. The range of different demons also changed the scene considerably. On a sign outside, you saw the words “City of Inferno Official Headquarters” with a directory sign beside it. There, you glimpsed departments such as “Crossroad Appeals Office”, “Possession and Infestation”, and “Cambion Counseling and Aid”. Jongho didn’t lie. Demons truly modeled themselves after humans in every aspect of life.

Mingi opened your door for you and you stepped out. Putting on sunglasses from your purse, you gazed around the front area while Jongho discussed a wait time with Mingi. You always imagined Hell being a landscape of fire and brimstone, not a city with buildings and parking spaces. The revelation had been startling at first. When Jongho came back to you, he led you into the building. 

“Just let me do the talking,” he told you as you entered. “Master Seonghwa submitted your initial paperwork already, but you do need to sign and confirm some things with Jackson.”

“What paperwork?”

“Nothing major,” he said, pressing an elevator button, “Just basic information to have on hand: family names, occupations, housing, offspring and all that. Since you went unregistered your entire life, you’ll have a few more questions than most people.” 

It sounded dull, but you didn’t want the masters getting into trouble. They may have kept you like a pet, but they didn't ongoing mistreat or abuse you. At least, not in a way you didn't consent to. You entered the elevator, and Jongho pressed for the fourth floor. You rode in silence, nerves starting to pinch as the elevator climbed. 

“Fourth Floor: Department of Cambion Relations, Cambion Counseling and Aid, and Cambion Registration,” a cool female voice said as the doors opened up onto the floor. 

Across the entire floor, you saw dozens of cubicles and desks. Demons worked on computers, typing up reports or answering phone calls. A few passed by you with folders or boxes with more papers inside. The hum of general chatter, printing machines, computers and keyboards reminded you once again of home. You breathed in the crisp air, letting it sink into you. Jongho brought you over to a reception desk near the doorway, where a female succubus sat working on her computer. 

“Morning,” Jongho said, “We’re here to see Mr. Wang from Registration?”

“Room thirteen,” she said, without looking away from her screen. 

“Thanks.”

Jongho led you alongside the office space, both your footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. The atmosphere remained alive and buzzing. It brought back memories of the YN you left behind. Finding Room Thirteen, Jongho gave a soft knock before a voice spoke out. 

“Come in.” 

Jackson Wang appeared suave and chic in his emerald suit and trimmed, parted hair. You understood immediately why he and Seonghwa were friends. He'd finished typing on his keyboard when he saw Jongho in the doorway. 

“Jongho, good morning! How are you?”

Jackson stood up to greet your handler. His office looked similar to many you'd seen before: clever unopened books on the shelves, fake plants in pristine pots, cluttered paperwork and leather furniture. All on top of a light blue carpet that muffled all sounds. Jackson and Jongho exchanged pleasantries while you looked around. Degrees and certificates came from universities in the living world; what sort of demon goes to a human college? You supposed college campuses might be full of “sin”. But, it sounded so unlike what demons claim to do. 

“And this must be YN,” Jackson turned to you, and you shook hands. “Seonghwa told me all about you. Your story truly is unique. It's incredibly rare for a cambion to go unregistered in this day and age, especially with the new system.”

“I suppose my mother hoped I never ended up here,” you shrugged, eyeing the fake fern in the corner. You hated the fake ones. They had no life and carried that cheap plastic shine. “Seonghwa mentioned paperwork?”

“Yes,” Jackson gestured to the two armchairs, and went around to his desk chair. He began withdrawing a folder from a file drawer, “Nothing too complicated. It's mostly just documents saying you come into our world understanding our laws, and will abide by them at all times. There are a few consensus forms, since that helps us keep track of the cambion population.” He passed you a vanilla folder, “Seonghwa already went ahead and put himself down as your demon host, so the housing document is already filled out.”

“Demon host?”

“The demon you're living with until you find your own place to live or until you live with him permanently,” he said. “They're responsible for making sure you keep yourself in line, and learn our way of life down here. In normal cases, the host is usually the parent if they come back from the living world. But, in your case, it'd be Seonghwa, since he's the heir.” 

The first form seems simple enough. It asked for age, date of birth, date of death, height and other useless facts. The second form listed the basic laws of Inferno, and that you understood and respected them. You didn’t see yourself committing any crimes, so you signed it. The third described what the form called “Acknowledgement of Inheritance and Social Status”. 

“Inheritance?” you looked up to Jackson. “I inherit stuff?”

“Yes,” Jackson consulted his computer, typing in a few words before turning to you, “You’re a Lady of Eden so naturally that earns you a garden patch in Eden, should you want that. Since your mother is a daughter of Lilith, making you a first-generation granddaughter, you earn the title of Marchioness-”

“-Marchioness?!-”

“-Which affords you special nobility status, obviously,” he said finally. 

“For example,” Jongho said, “Master Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San are Prince Asmodeus’s sons, so they’re technically Dukes over regular lords. They don’t like to flaunt their titles so much, but they have them on paper. Any children they should have would be a Marquess or Marchioness. I thought Yeosang would’ve covered the hierarchy system with you.”

“We were getting there.” 

The news surprised you. You knew you’d be a person of some importance, but YN, Marchioness of Eden, sounded so official and regal. 

“Your title, as it says there, changes if you ever married someone of a higher rank,” said Jackson. “Let’s say you end up marrying Seonghwa. You’d go from Marchioness to Duchess. Most demons don’t marry below their social class, but it does happen and that person goes a step down instead. Psh, it’s embarrassing in my opinion but true love conquers all I suppose.” 

“Why didn’t she tell me?” 

The question slipped out before you could stop it. With it hanging in the air, heat filled your cheeks at once. The question crossed your mind several times since learning about it. Wanting to protect you from Inferno seemed to be the only logical answer, but protect you from what? You guessed being a royal in Hell had more downsides to upsides. Your mother left her entire demon life behind her. She could have returned at any time, but chose the living world. Thinking back to the masters’ mother, you wondered if she’d originally planned on coming back home but never did. No, not Mama. She wasn't like that. Finishing up the next few documents, mostly “Visitation Confidentiality” and “Eternal Stay”, you handed the folder back to Jackson. He double checked all the forms before smiling up at you. 

“Perfect,” he beamed. “I’ll send these to the certification and identification departments so you can get your identification card. It helps us keep track of the population, you see. It’ll take a few days, but with this information in the system, you’re free to visit Eden.”

“Visit Eden?”

“It’s customary for newcomers to visit their homelands, so to speak,” he placed one paper in a fax machine, punching the right number into it. “Lilith loves welcoming her children and grandchildren home. She’ll be delighted by you specifically, since you’re a first-generation grandchild.”

“What’s she like?” The thought of meeting such a high ranking demon made you anxious. 

“Pleasant most of the time. Just don’t step on her hydrangeas. The Sisters of Eden will be expecting you, so I’d get it out of the way if I were you.” 

“Would my mother be there?” you asked in a small voice, fear injecting itself into your veins. It made you sick. “I…I don’t know what happened to her before I died.”

You never bothered asking. Guilt stuck to your chest thinking of every time you screened her calls or pretended not to be home. You were so mean. If you had any regret, it’d be what you did to her. Would she forgive you? You pushed her away from your mind, and stood up. 

“I guess we’re done here then?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded, standing to shake your hand and Jongho’s, good to see you as always. Let’s get together when you’re not busy waiting on people. Though, to be honest,” he turned to look at you, “I wouldn’t mind waiting on her.”

Too blinded by guilt to really take in the compliment, you just nodded and smiled. You and Jongho left the office, and ended up in the elevator before you knew it. The last conversation you had with her came sliding back into your head.

‘Julie’s having a baby shower. You should come.”

“I hate Julie.”

“I know, but I’d…I’d like to see you, honey cake.”

She loved you so damn much. You resented her weakness, but it turned out you’d been wrong the entire time. That desperate need to fix things poked at you as you got back into the car. Yet, fear kept you planted. What if she did hate you? You’d never consider her capable of hate, but that’d been before the truth came out. You wouldn’t blame her. You’d hate yourself too if the roles were reversed.

“Mistress?” Jongho broke through your train of thought, trying to catch your glazed eyes. “Mistress?”

“Huh? Wha…Oh yeah, what’s…What’s up?”

“Where do you want to go next? The Quarter Cafe is open, and they serve the best beignets in the city.”

“I’m not hungry right now.”

“The Merchant’s District, then? They have fashion boutiques spanning across different centuries of clothing. I know this one dress maker who makes gorgeous 18th century gowns. She worked for Marie Antionette I heard. Master Seonghwa would enjoy it, for sure.”

“I’m…That’s not my thing.”

“Shopping is your ‘thing’ though.”

She wouldn’t hate you. Mama never hated anyone; not even annoying customers at the shop or that bitch Loraine who stole her peach cobbler recipe. But, you’d treated her so terribly. Your father had been alive when you died, which left her alone. Safe, but alone. You like to think she came back home.

“Mistress, we can’t stay here all day.”

“Destination, please,” Mingi said, “That rent-a-cop keeps eyeing me.”

She sought out the comfort of home and her demon family. She’d be surrounded by her flowers and plants in an endless spring. Jackson suggested you go see your grandmother, which will be a different kind of anxiousness, but what if she’s there as well?

“Are there any gardening stores or florists in town?” you finally asked. 

“A fair few,” he answered. “Why?”

“Take me to the best one. I want to see Octavius,” you told him, “And the rest. That greenhouse is in need of some serious TLC. Maybe the supply store will have whatever I need.”

“Perfect!”

Mingi drove you to a small hardware store that had a gardening station. The potted “starter plants” all cooed when you walked past them, though you’re sure only you heard them. You decided you’d buy them another time. You had plants who needed you at home. Toiling the earth and regrowing those neglected plants would force her from your mind. It’ll erase the questions and worries floating around in your head. Too much went on today for you to add her to the list. Buying the standard supplies, bags of fertilizers and fresh soil, you went back home determined to keep yourself occupied. 

Anything to keep her away. 

****

“I just died in your arms tonight. It must’ve been something you said. I just died in your arms tonight…”

They liked the music. You watched the yellow-mouths sway side to side to the song in separate pots as you refreshed their soil. A row of purple and pink hibiscuses sat on a shelf moving to the beat of Cutting Crew’s ‘Died in Your Arms’ above you. The small stereo you’d stolen from Hongjoong’s bedroom sat on a wooden table where Jongho placed snacks for you, but you didn’t have an appetite. Instead, you asked him to bring you a bucket of innards for Octavius’s offspring, who only ate meat. 

“You guys are going to feel so good when I finish,” you said, adding a bit more soil to their box, then digging separate holes to transfer them. “Seonghwa should be ashamed of himself honestly. He created all of you, then left you to suffer here alone. You must be starving for attention.”

A low rumble came from nearby. You looked to see the purple and blue plant wiggling its stamen in the air. You smiled. 

“I’ll get to you soon enough, Lucius. You just hang on. Everyone’s getting their turn.” As you delicately placed the yellow-mouths back in their planter, you felt something shift behind you. “No, Jongho, I don’t need anything right now. Thank you.”

“It’s my job to stand nearby in case you need me, Mistress,” he said, coming up beside you. 

You noticed he’d changed out of his butler uniform into a flannel shirt, boots, and denims. He looked different outside his uniform, which always looked so clean and proper. Here, he might’ve passed for a human were it not for his horns. You noticed he'd rolled his sleeves to his elbows, showing off his lean forearms. He picked up a bucket of loose soil and a spade, walking over to Lucius. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” you told him, standing up from the planter and wiping off loose dirt from your knees. “I really don’t mind working here myself. It’s sort of therapeutic for me, especially after what’s been happening.”

“Mistress, you are my sole responsibility around here,” he said. He examined Lucius, taking in his withering curved petals that resembled a seat. “If I left you here alone, and something happened to you, The Masters would have my head.”

“It’s not like I’m their property anymore,” you told him. You saw Jongho starting to dig around Lucius, but you stopped him. “His soil is fine. He’s just thirsty. Samantha, watering can, please.” 

One of Ocatvius’s offspring approached with a watering can. You tossed her a strip of raw meat from a bucket, and she slumped away. Once you began pouring around Lucius, the bulb glowed with life and squealed happily. It made you smile. These plants might be sentient creatures made for pleasure and pain, but they had the same needs as any other. Lucius, getting enough water, closed himself up and glowed dimly. He was good for a while. 

“Like I said,” you continued, moving over to a shelf of various normal plants. “You don’t need to worry about them. I’m your mistress, and if I say you don’t have to be around, then you don’t have to be.”

You touched their faded, dry leaves and petals, feeling them clinging to life. You assessed the damage to be too much direct sunlight and no water. Pressing your hand to a nearby vine, you coaxed it omto spreading across the wide window, the vines creeping along slowly. You grabbed  the watering can and began pouring generous amounts in each pot. Their relief radiated off them as water seeped into their dry soil. You hated thinking how long they'd sat in the sunlight, left to die. You knew you could heal them with a simple touch, but working the plants yourself felt better. You also sensed they liked their sunlight and water given directly.

“And if I want to be?” he asked, grabbing a spray bottle to water the smaller, more delicate plants. “Would you still send me away?”

“Not really, I don’t think so. It's not like anyone around here actually talks to me,” you said. With the first shelf finished, you moved to the next one. 

“I talk to you,” he said, mildly offended. 

“Obviously I didn't mean you. I meant other people.”

“The others talk to you too. The Masters as well.”

“They talk about me,” you pointed out, “Not to me. They only do when they’re horny.”

“Alright, yes that’s true at times,” he said, uncertain of how to continue now. He watched you begin repotting a dying orchid, and you knew he fished for something to say. “The Masters and the rest of us might enjoy sex with you, but that doesn’t mean it’s all we want. We are incubi after all. It’s in our nature, and it’s in yours too.” You saw him grin out of the corner of your eye, “You’ve gone after them a few times in the past. The lust isn’t entirely one sided.” 

“I suppose not.”

“Since when have you cared about an emotional connection, anyways?”

“Never, but…” you held the soil bag in front of you, “But, it’d be nice if there was one.” 

“And there is,” he insisted. “Master Hongjoong typically throws people out of his bed when he’s done with them, or leaves before they wake up. With you, he stays and you stay. He curls up and holds you as if he thinks you'll leave him. Master Seonghwa never lets anyone in his private library, but here he is, letting you have your lessons there. Master San, psh…” he scoffed, “You should’ve seen what he did to that one demon in the arena. He decapitated him after he said he was going to take you from him.”

“What? When was this?”

“It happened in the arena, supposedly. Some of the footmen go there on their off day to see the fights,” he said. “Occasionally, they’ll throw in demon challenger to sort of spice things up, you know? And this one big guy said he heard you’d become San’s pleasure slave. This is all just bravado a lot of the time, by the way,” he added quickly, “But what I heard through the grapevine was that he said he’d cut off San’s head then claim you as his prize. Well, according to one of the guys, San ended up chopping off his head instead.”

“He…He killed someone for me?”

“In a way,” he shrugged. “It was the night he came home with that really bad cut on his torso.”

You recalled that night as you stuck the orchid back in a brand new pot. San not being home on time was your first clue something might’ve gone wrong. Not wanting to make a huge deal out of it, you prepared dinner like normal and waited. And waited. And waited. It was nine o’clock by the time he came through the door with Yunho in tow. He’d taken off his shirt and jacket, so you saw the thick bandages wrapped around his lean torso. The spot of black blood broke the confusion right away. You remembered everything suddenly being about San and his injury. The roast you’d “made” no longer mattered. You’d gone with Yunho into the bedroom, where the butler went to work redressing San’s messy bandages. It’d been ghastly. Ripped, thick and deep, you worried Yunho might not be able to stitch it properly, but he managed expertly. 

‘Don’t worry, Darling. I’ll be alright by tomorrow.’

Which he was. San’s demon blood helped him recover overnight. The shredded skin appeared to be knitting itself back together little by little, and no longer needed bandages. He never told you about the fight or what happened. He said it wasn’t important because he won. A soft smile went across your face thinking of how he spent that entire week at home with you. There’d been cuddling, kissing, talking, and soft, passionate sex. You felt entirely one with him in that moment. 

“Just because it’s never said out loud doesn’t mean it’s not there, Mistress,” said Jongho. His body heat transferred to you as he stood behind you. His touch created goosebumps down your arms and up your neck. Middle knuckle tracing up your spine, he dragged it lazily up and down as he spoke. “I know I’d do anything you asked of me.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve come to realize how special you are. You’re bold, confident, ambitious and clever. You aren't afraid to be yourself,” he said, “And you don't stand down when someone insults you. Yeosang insults everyone, and they take it because of who he is. But, not you. You fought a grandson of Satan, and while you didn't win, you still did it.”

“We ended up fucking then too.”

“It's in your nature, like I said.”

You turned around to face him. Close up, you found Jongho more fascinating. His eyes, dark brown, had the typical red ring around the iris. They carried the same gentleness he showed whenever he saw you. Jongho quickly became the only person you really talked to anymore. Anything you told him stayed between the both of you. He became your friend, your assistant and confidant. Pushing a piece of his hair from his face, you took in his handsomeness. The Masters and the other servants had the conventional attractiveness of demons: lean bodies, sharp jawlines, sultry eyes and smirking lips. He had one of his own. Like a bear, he came across as cute and soft. You knew if you took off his clothes, you'd find him just as fit as the others. Hands sliding up to his shoulders, you felt his breath rise and fall. In his shirt, you could feel his muscles much easier than his uniform. Reaching his shoulders, you gave them a tender squeeze. 

“Does that mean it's in your nature too?” you asked, sultry and flirty. 

“At times,” he answered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back. The touch warmed your body considerably. “I believe all demons, regardless of classification or status, carry lust inside them. I know,” he kept one hand behind you as the other slowly reached up your body, “That I've had trouble resisting my own instincts lately.” 

“How could that be, Jongho?” you asked, gasping softly when he cupped your breast. He kneaded it gently, thumb brushing where your nipple might be. “You're always so strong and resilient.”

“You weaken me, Mistress,” he breathed, eyes focused on the tit in his hand. The touch brought back the tingling sensation. “Being around you constantly challenges my resolve. I bathe you. I see you naked regularly. I watch you be fucked relentlessly by my masters. All the blood in my veins rushes to my dick when I see you through the peepholes. I stand there behind that one painting, leaking all over my hand and wishing it was your pussy instead. You drive me insane, and I suffer through it constantly.”

“These hands, you mean?” You covered both his hands with yours. He moaned, feeling your hands guide him over your breasts. “The ones right here?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He gently pushed you against the shelf, trapping you between him and the plants. 

“How often?”

“Too often.”

“What do you like seeing the most, hm?” you flicked his lips, letting him taste the intoxicating saliva on it. “Me getting fucked from behind? On my back? On my side? Riding their dicks? Which one?”

“I like watching them tongue your pussy,” he said, trembling from the hard nipples pushing into his hands. “Your pussy is…”

“Pretty?”

“Yes, especially when soaking wet. I just want to eat it all day, even if my jaw gets locked up. I love seeing you wriggle around when they do it. You always look so needy and you're always begging for more. You claw the sheets,” he shuddered at the mental image, “And hold onto their hair to keep them there."

“I just love it so much,” you said, putting one of his fingers in your mouth. He looked up to watch you suck the digit softly. “I love it most when they finger me while they do it.” You moved even closer, toying your tits with one hand while you sucked another finger, “Or when I'm giving one of them a blowjob. You know how much I love sucking dick, particularly big, long, thick demon dick.” You finally touched the tent forming in his pants, smiling when he whimpered. Lifting his head by the chin, you made eye contact as he said, “And I’d love to suck yours.”

“Mi-M-Mistress?”

“I remember all your little whimpering and moaning when you jerked off in front of me,” you told him, feeling him through the denim. “It looked so tasty, I drooled from looking at it. I want to be the one making you whimper like that. Could you do it for me again?”

“Ye-yes,” he nodded hurriedly. “For as long as my Lady wishes.”

“Then let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” you said, lips centimeters from his before they touched. 

Jongho involuntarily squeezed both your breasts as you locked lips. Lips caressing each other softly, you started unbuttoning his shirt before you appeared in your bedroom. Once the expanse of smooth, warm tawny skin became exposed, your hands smoothed right over it. Nipples already hard, you rubbed them with the sides of your thumbs. Jongho gave a short huff as the touch sparked his aroused further. You both only broke away only to remove your shirts, coming back together so your skin touched skin. Kissing him, you stayed as close as you kissed. You noticed a certain type of hunger taking over the longer your tongues explored each other. The lascivious toxin in your spit mixed with his, and you knew the effect it’d have on him. He seemed to get harder, hungrier and needier. The kiss weakened Jongho, who let you slide off his jeans and underwear together. His cock free of its confines, your mouth drooled seeing the throbbing muscle. Having him fully nude, you guided him over to your bed. Lust filled his dark eyes, and he looked nowhere except at you. 

Climbing on top of him, your center grinded your clothed sex to his bare crotch. You placed his hands over his head towards the board where your vines wrapped themselves around his wrists. Jongho did not pull against the restraint. If anything, it caused him to push up against you. Kissing down his neck, you left small bites and hickeys that marked his tender flesh before you reached one nipple. Jongho whimpered loudest as you licked around one nipple, so you did the same to the other. Your teasing strengthened the feeling between your legs as well. You didn’t mind being the submissive one, but the change felt nice. Jongho sounded so sweet whining underneath you, eyes closing as he relished in the pleasure you created. Leaving his nipples, you pecked down his front to the tip laying on his lower stomach. 

One thin vine slid over to where you knelt, and you saw the yellow-green creeper wrap around the base of his dick and balls. The natural cockring brought on new sensations that Jongho bucked into for friction. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, kissing the inner areas to leave more small marks on them. Having you so close yet so far from his dick made it twitch on his stomach. You kissed right up to the underside of his hilt. Jongho sighed when your tongue only slid between the bottom and halfway to the shaft repeatedly. His fists clenched in his restraint, not fighting it even if his body craved more. Each time you licked upwards, you drew closer to the thick, leaking tip. It was when you cupped his balls that Jongho grew louder. 

“Mistress,” he breathed, eyes closed, “Please…”

“Hm?” You started swishing your tongue over the backside of the tip. 

“Please…suck on it…Please…”

“We’ll get there soon,” you promised between licks. 

Swirling your tongue over the most sensitive part, you began lightly stroking him. Interchanging between hard and soft squeezes, you moved your tongue from back to front, sliding over the slit on top to taste a bead of precum. Then, you continued only sucking the very tip while you moved your hand up and down. Jongho kept watching you through heavy lidded eyes, lips parted in every moan and whimper as you teased him. Every lick across his head had him quivering. Watching him slowly unravel before you became amusing. Using your spit to coat him, you watched your hand gradually work him. The muscle pulsed in your grasp, somehow getting harder than before. You spat on it again to see it shine in the sunlight, before taking the whole head in your mouth. 

This rush of relief had Jongho writhing into the soft blankets and moss. You couldn’t get over the feeling of him dripping on your tongue. The salty drops smeared over your tongue and cheeks, and you swallowed each one. As you went further down, you tasted the smooth skin and felt each vein cross over your lips. The vines restricting his length kept him from cumming while you reached the end of his cock at last. Inside your throat, Jongho let out an uncontrollable series of moans. You let him hear you gag on him, constricting your airway each time and creating more drool to wet him with. You let him push into your face once you buried him in your throat, unable to stop himself with your hand on his balls. 

“You really are so well behaved,” you croaked, spitting on his dick before licking it back up, “Letting your mistress do whatever she likes with your lovely cock. I can stay down here forever,” you sucked him further, throating him once more to hear him moan. It was when you moved hand and mouth together that he began quivering. “Mmm,” you licked up the string of precum coming down the sides, “Does my little toy want to cum?”

“Yes,” he moaned, “Yes, I do, Mistress.”

“Are you going to?”

“Only i-i-if you wish.”

“Hm, I don’t think so just yet,” you said, “I’m not done playing.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Such a good…good boy,” you cried out, not stopping him as he attacked your sensitive sex. “Keep going like that,” you spat and continued jerking at him, “Make me cum again. Make your mistress cum again.”

You maneuvered yourself to face him in reverse, your sex inches from his face and continued sucking him slowly.

"Eat my pussy," you ordered in a gentle voice, "I want to feel your tongue on my clit."

Tiny bouts of relief came once his hot tongue slid around your aching clit. His thick cock muffled any moans it brought out, which gave a vibrating sensation Jongho loved. Unable to touch you, Jongho could only trace the folds around your pussy before sucking that hard numb. You wiggled your hips over his face, soaked pussy smearing over mouth, chin and cheeks as you did it. The light brushes drove you crazy, needing him to make you cum. You moaned loudest when he captured your clit in his mouth again and quickly swirled his tongue around it. His tongue teased out the orgasm sitting inside you little by little, not focusing on anything else than your tingling nub. Sensing your enjoyment, Jongho continued the same speed and pattern until you finally came. Even as you trembled and shook, your muscles constricting, Jongho kept going. 

This time, his tongue slid deep into your sex. You bounced and rocked against the appendage wriggling inside you. Jongho’s mouth had you seeing stars as he tongue fucked you. 

“Don’t stop licking, Jongho,” you said, enjoying the overstimulation his tongue made, “Don’t stop.”

Jongho whimpered into your center as you sensed his orgasm approaching. You quickened the pace with your hand, counting down the seconds in your head. His toes curled inwards and his thighs shook as it came closer and closer to the edge. Right when you sensed him there, you pulled away. A muffled ‘Mistress’ came from behind you and you cackled. 

“I told you I wanted to play with it,” you said innocently, sliding off him to let him breathe and come down from the edge. Kissing his wet lips, you licked up whatever juices escaped him before sliding your tongue into his mouth. “It’s so much fun.”

Laying on top of him between his legs, you squeezed his dick with your thighs. His thick shaft brushed across your drenched sex in steady, measured thrusts that drove you wild. Fingers rolling his nipples, you smiled as he haphazardly rocked his hips into you. Jongho’s heavy breaths came out with whimpering moans. You never thought you’d see your bear so frantic for a release. It brought a sense of pride to see him like a putty in your hands. You became used to submitting to your partners, since you enjoyed that more, but this felt good. For once, you are in control.

Feeling him shivering once more, you forced yourself to spread your legs apart. Jongho cried, thrashing from the slight pain of being edged once again. When he started coming back down, you lightly grinded against him. Your pussy aching to have him inside, you knew dominants didn’t particularly give into their own desires. They took pleasure from withholding from their submissive. Yet, you craved to have him deep inside you. Everytime he brushes over your entrance, you feel tempted to ride him. 

‘Then ride him, Mistress.’

Octavius. His deep, raspy voice sounded in your head like your own thoughts. You glanced up to the peonies around your bed. Your carnivorous, licentious friend had eyes and ears anywhere flowers grew. You wondered if you could do the same. 

The vines around Jongho’s wrists slid away, and your servant immediately grabbed your hips to angle you properly. You didn’t stop him as he filled you completely. Hands on either side of him, you steadily moved up and down on him. His cock throbbed against your walls, passing over ridges and bumps within you. Once you started, you did not want to stop. Jongho knew this, and began meeting you in the middle. He only ever came an inch or two out of you every time, and the tip pushing your g-spot made you see stars. Knowing your plant-friends watched nearby made you eager to keep going. Some of them, you knew, needed more than water and sunlight. 

“Mistress,” Jongho breathed, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, “You feel so good. Please, don’t stop,” he began pushing into you harder and faster, “Don’t make me stop. I want to make you cum. I want to please you.”

“Is that so?” you asked, whirling your hips to move him around inside you. “You wish to please me?”

“Yes,” he whimpered. “Let me make you cum again.” 

“Then go ahead,” you whispered in his ear, trying your best not to completely lose it on top of him. 

Jongho flipped you onto your back right away. Putting your legs on his shoulders, your servant pumped his cock into you at a deep angle. The perfect angle, if you were honest. Balls smacking your ass, hands palming your tits and nipples, he brought you in for another kiss as he fucked you. Soon enough, your third orgasm crawled towards your center again. It became more sensitive in every thrust. His touches on your nipples, his lips and tongue on your mouth, you broke away when it finally hit you. Something wet squirted onto his balls as he kept going; you could feel that taut feeling erupting again in every cry. You thought you might go insane from his cock. The mere feeling of it stretching and filling you elongated your climax. By the time you finished, Jongho had pinned you down. 

“Mistress,” he breathed, “Mistress, Mistress….Can I cum now? Please, please,” he pleaded through gritted teeth, whining as your pussy gripped him. 

“Yes,” you replied, rubbing your clit to produce another orgasm. You knew your plants wanted more of it. They needed as much as they could get. “I want you to cum on me. Cum all over me, now.”

Jongho withdrew from you and violently jerked his wet dick. A couple of pumps later, Jongho’s hot cum shot over your stomach and breasts. You watched his entire body clench and shake as he came, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth open. When the last few drops fell onto your sex, you pulled him closer to kiss him again. You wanted him to stay hard just a bit longer. On your mossy bed, you rolled onto your stomach and grinded into his dick. Apparently, your butler wasn’t fazed by how he hadn’t grown soft. He didn’t question or object. He almost seemed incapable of comprehending what was happening. Perhaps your kisses can be dangerous to a person’s sanity. 

You giggled as Jongho plunged back into you. 

***

A/N: Talk about some big changes in this house. Is YN truly loved or simply lusted over and coveted? That remains to be seen. At least she's got her big bear <3 please like and reblog <3

[crguang]

wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.