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atlabeth · 2 months ago

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unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp.

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible.

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through.

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether.

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner.

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.”

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time.

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it.

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name.

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal.

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk.

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.”

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over.

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?”

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?”

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.”

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours.

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.”

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.”

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.”

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.”

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.”

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back.

Oh, how you loathed group projects.

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong.

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted.

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.”

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.”

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.”

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.”

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.”

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.”

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.”

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.”

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.”

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.”

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.”

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away.

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it.

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?”

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed.

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.”

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.”

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?”

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?”

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.”

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said.

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!”

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.”

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.”

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing.

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you.

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more.

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there.

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together.

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless.

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled.

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said.

“I know my way around a lot of things.”

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled.

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said.

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed.

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you.

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead.

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?”

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said.

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.”

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.”

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?”

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.”

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.”

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent.

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?”

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.”

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.”

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.”

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.”

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?”

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!”

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?”

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.”

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?”

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him.

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.”

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?”

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.”

“Like?”

“Like my studies.”

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?”

“Ha ha,” you said dryly.

He tilted his head. “Do you?”

You frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected.

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.”

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.”

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.”

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.”

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.”

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.”

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked.

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften.

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now.

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign.

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence.

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all.

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all.

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?”

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?”

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.”

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming.

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed.

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.”

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?”

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.”

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said.

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?”

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.”

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.”

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand.

“You need a break.”

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look.

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly.

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed.

“Shall we?” he murmured.

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you.

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast.

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile.

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him.

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm.

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before.

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience.

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them.

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps.

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh.

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep.

#fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x reader #wicked x reader #fiyero x you #fiyero tigelaar x you #fiyero movie x reader #wicked movie x reader

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

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In the Willamette Valley of Oregon, the long study of a butterfly once thought extinct has led to a chain reaction of conservation in a long-cultivated region.

The conservation work, along with helping other species, has been so successful that the Fender’s blue butterfly is slated to be downlisted from Endangered to Threatened on the Endangered Species List—only the second time an insect has made such a recovery.

[Note: "the second time" is as of the article publication in November 2022.]

To live out its nectar-drinking existence in the upland prairie ecosystem in northwest Oregon, Fender’s blue relies on the help of other species, including humans, but also ants, and a particular species of lupine.

After Fender’s blue was rediscovered in the 1980s, 50 years after being declared extinct, scientists realized that the net had to be cast wide to ensure its continued survival; work which is now restoring these upland ecosystems to their pre-colonial state, welcoming indigenous knowledge back onto the land, and spreading the Kincaid lupine around the Willamette Valley.

First collected in 1929 [more like "first formally documented by Western scientists"], Fender’s blue disappeared for decades. By the time it was rediscovered only 3,400 or so were estimated to exist, while much of the Willamette Valley that was its home had been turned over to farming on the lowland prairie, and grazing on the slopes and buttes.

Pictured: Female and male Fender’s blue butterflies.

Now its numbers have quadrupled, largely due to a recovery plan enacted by the Fish and Wildlife Service that targeted the revival at scale of Kincaid’s lupine, a perennial flower of equal rarity. Grown en-masse by inmates of correctional facility programs that teach green-thumb skills for when they rejoin society, these finicky flowers have also exploded in numbers.

[Note: Okay, I looked it up, and this is NOT a new kind of shitty greenwashing prison labor. This is in partnership with the Sustainability in Prisons Project, which honestly sounds like pretty good/genuine organization/program to me. These programs specifically offer incarcerated people college credits and professional training/certifications, and many of the courses are written and/or taught by incarcerated individuals, in addition to the substantial mental health benefits (see x, x, x) associated with contact with nature.]

The lupines needed the kind of upland prairie that’s now hard to find in the valley where they once flourished because of the native Kalapuya people’s regular cultural burning of the meadows.

While it sounds counterintuitive to burn a meadow to increase numbers of flowers and butterflies, grasses and forbs [a.k.a. herbs] become too dense in the absence of such disturbances, while their fine soil building eventually creates ideal terrain for woody shrubs, trees, and thus the end of the grassland altogether.

Fender’s blue caterpillars produce a little bit of nectar, which nearby ants eat. This has led over evolutionary time to a co-dependent relationship, where the ants actively protect the caterpillars. High grasses and woody shrubs however prevent the ants from finding the caterpillars, who are then preyed on by other insects.

Now the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde are being welcomed back onto these prairie landscapes to apply their [traditional burning practices], after the FWS discovered that actively managing the grasslands by removing invasive species and keeping the grass short allowed the lupines to flourish.

By restoring the lupines with sweat and fire, the butterflies have returned. There are now more than 10,000 found on the buttes of the Willamette Valley."

-via Good News Network, November 28, 2022

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enha-cafe · 1 year ago

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I <3 NERDS (c.s)

PAIRING: nerd! soobin x afab! reader SUMMARY: just y/n not expecting nerd! soobin to be a sex god inspired by this very long thought with @gyuthmics WARNINGS: smut, basically no plot, afab! reader, switch! reader, dom! soobin, big dick! soobin, oral (m rec.), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (please it's soobin i can't not include it), usage of the words "slut", "baby", "good girl", snowballing, literally like one spank WORD COUNT: 1.7k

you thought playing around with the cute little nerd in your class would be funny. he was absolutely harmless, you thought, blushing whenever you made eye contact with him and always watching anime in the back of class. all you wanted was to make him your partner for the project and watch him get flustered at every moment. so now you're left wondering: is this really happening? are you really getting the best dick of your life from some guy who has openly said his favorite anime is bunny girl senpai? how did he manage to have you crying and screaming his name?

you remember how his cheeks and ears reddened when you invited him over to your place to "work on the project," when you just wanted to see how long it'd take before he'd beg for your pussy.

oh, how you've missed having someone to play with. you wore a low-cut tank and shorts, leaving little to the imagination. gently patting the spot on your bed, inviting him to sit beside you. relishing the way he stutters each time he looks to talk to you. constantly looking up at him with doe eyes, brushing your shoulder against his, and pushing your breasts into his arms. how badly you're just waiting for him to snap. look at you through those overgrown bangs and grovel for you to give him a sweet release.

he did break, just not in the way you were hoping.

it was a swift motion, with soobin taking you by the wrists and pinning you down. "well, someone is acting like a little slut today." never would you have thought this absolute nerd would have you at such a loss for words. those words make you have to take a pause and leave your mouth slightly agape. "what's wrong? cat got your tongue?" he says this, cocking his head to the side and chuckling.

you're completely lost as to who the man in front of you is; this isn't the nerd you were toying with all day. this is some sort of demon you decided to summon. "c'mon, baby, use your words. i know you want this; you've been messing with me all day. don't back out now." he says, staring into your eyes, and all you can do is let out a broken please. "that's what i like to hear," he says right before planting a kiss on your lips.

you're needy for him, and soobin can't help but chuckle. the way you try to grind down on his knee between your legs, he thinks it's cute how you're slowly becoming putty in his hands. he wants to—no, he needs to ruin you. he's having to hold himself back, and you can tell. for now, he's content with just the taste of you. moving his lips from yours to your neck, you can't help but let out a moan and squirm more. "you're absolutely insatiable; tell me what you want." you're not sure how, but he's already managed to make your head dizzy. "i need you—i need you inside me, please, soobin." you can feel him smile into your neck as you plead. "of course, baby, but i need something from you first." he says letting your wrists free and using his other hand to unbutton his jeans. "get on your knees and suck my cock like the slut you are."

you feel like a woman possessed by how quickly you get on your knees for him. staring up at him in anticipation and hoping he won't notice as you rub your thighs together. when he pulls his pants down, it almost hits you in the face, and you can't help but stare. he's huge. "soobin, you're going to break me." he nearly throws his head back and laughs, "i thought sluts like you were supposed to like big cocks. c'mon, don't be shy now. suck." his order sends a jolt of electricity down to your core.

opening your mouth, you try to take as much of him as possible, and what you can't, you wrap your hands around. bobbing your head up and down his cock, your eyes never leave him. the way his breathing becomes gradually more labored as he groans. his eyes are hungry as he looks at you. "good girl, i knew you could take me," he tells you, and you can feel your walls clench around nothing, and you can't help but moan around him. it's enough to make him curse and grab the back of your head. you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he pushes your head down. feeling his head hit the back of your throat and his cock twitch. you barely have a second before you feel hot cum spill down your throat.

soobin pulls you off his cock and places a hand under your chin. forcing you to stare up at him through those thick-rimmed glasses and overgrown fringe. he pulls you up to him and forces his lips on yours. swapping his cum between you before you finally decide to swallow it. "you're nasty," he says before giving you a light spank, making you let out a yelp. he grabs you by the hand and guides you back to the bed.

his eyes are blown with lust, and suddenly your clothes feel too hot for your skin. you're telling him to pull off your shorts as you tear your top off, and you're left in only your underwear. soobin is quick to start marking and playing with your breasts, telling you how perfect they are. feeling his right hand on your clothed core, you can't help but grind against it. he notices the way you grind on his hand and moves your panties to the side. watching how drenched you are, he decides to dip two of his long fingers inside you, and it has you reeling.

feeling his fingers inside your gummy walls is enough to have you screaming for him. he reaches places your pathetic fingers could never reach. he's so mean and fast with them too; the noises made by them are so lewd, you'd be embarrassed if you weren't enjoying it so much. you think you can't get enough of his fingers until he uses his thumb to circle your clit. the stimulation is so great that he has you chanting his name. his name is dripping like honey from your lips as you try your hardest not to cum. soobin knows you're close; how couldn't he? with your walls fluttering against his fingers and your thighs trembling. "it's okay, baby, you can let go for me," and it's almost as though that was the final piece of a puzzle. you're suddenly seeing stars, and your walls are convulsing around him as you cum.

"is that all you can take, or do you want more?" he asks you as if he doesn't already know your answer. without a second thought, you're screaming once more for him, "please, soobin, i need you inside of me—going insane—need your big cock inside me." you're so needy and desperate for him, it's borderline pathetic. "okay, let me just grab a condom," he says, going to get up, but you grab his arm, pulling him back in to stop him. "no, i need you raw." such a simple sentence, but it's enough to make his cock twitch. "you really are insatiable," and his lips dive back into yours.

as you kiss, you can feel him lining himself up with you, his large cockhead teasing your opening. moaning into the kiss and telling him to put it in already, only making him smile against your lips. when he slips into you, you swear you see heaven. the stretch like nothing you've ever felt before; he's so big, and he's already hitting you so deep. when he bottoms out, you're already grinding against him, begging him to move. soobin is more than happy to oblige, digging his fingers into your hips and slowly pulling out of you, only to ram back in.

you think he'd be rough with just that one thrust, but he continues to be hard and fast. as he thrusts his cock inside of you, you can't help but stare. he makes your head fuzzy, and all you can do is lay there and moan. feeling him lay his hand over your stomach and press down has you clenching around him, making him twitch deep inside you. "god, you're so tight, and you take me so well, like you were made for me," he says. all you can do is moan at his praises, making you teeter closer to the edge.

his groans sound like heaven, his glasses are foggy, and his fringe slightly hangs over them. you don't think you've ever seen anyone look hotter. you don't realize how long you've been staring until he says something like, "see something you like?" and in that moment, you realize you're drunk on him, and you don't ever want to get sober. he chuckles and gives you a smirk right before playing with your clit again. "i can feel the way you're clenching down on me; I know you're close." he's acting almost as if he isn't close, too. "please, soobin, i need to cum—need you to fill me up too, please, soobin." you punctuate your words by wrapping your legs around his waist.

his thrusts become sloppier, and his head falls into the crook of your neck. feeling his hot breath as he curses. "cum for me, y/n" it's not a request but an order. your legs tighten around him as you cum, locking him in as you let out loud moans while your body is wracked with pleasure. you barely get a second to recover before soobin's hot cum floods your insides. there's so much, and you don't think you've ever felt fuller than you do in this moment. after he slips out, you can feel his cum starting to dribble out of your hole.

your head is fuzzy, and you're barely coherent when soobin tells you he's going to grab something to clean you up. however, even with the burn in your legs, gasping for air, and cum spilling from your hole. you can't help but think there's no way this absolute sex god of a man is a damn nerd.

but god, you love nerds.

perma tag list: @hoonslutt @moonlighthoon @love4heejayke @jouliejihan @majestyjun @yizhoutv

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #choi soobin smut #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt drabbles #txt reactions #soobin imagines #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader

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cornsoupflavour · 8 months ago

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Office Space Rivalry (aespa NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested by: @shockbot54

Office!Giselle/Aeri Uchinaga x Office!Male Reader

Tags: 3.4k words, rivals to lovers, wholesome?, romance, creampie, build up, office siren

You sat at your desk. It was yet another day of being a regular office worker at SM Entertainment, surrounded by piles of paperwork. In a world filled with idols and popstars, you can't help but feel a little damp about it all. The hum of the AC droned throughout the silence of the office accompanied by distant keyboard clicking.

Your eyes occasionally caught glimpses of Giselle, a member of aespa who had taken up a job amidst her break from stardom. Her long, dark hair flowed over her shoulders as she tapped away at her keyboard, her expression sullen and distant. You couldn't help but feel a pull towards her but stopped yourself. Her presence here has squandered your opportunities to gain a promotion, or at the very least made it ten times harder.

Giselle's hiatus from the limelight was a recent and well–kept secret. The public knew little about her personal life, only that she'd be away for a bit and won't be joining the performances. But here at SM Entertainment, the company was aware of her need for a break. She was dressed in a black blazer overcoat and a long flowy white skirt. A silver necklace with a small 'A' charm dangled between her cleavage.

The office manager passed by your desk with an air of importance. "Y/N, you'll be working with Giselle on a special project. It's for a new idol's profile, which includes a short bio, her discography, and a photoshoot concept."

You nodded in acknowledgement as your boss walked over to Giselle's desk to let her in on the same news. As he walked back to his office, you could see the disgruntled visage of Giselle peaking right above your desk divider.

You let out a drawn out sigh as you reluctantly made your way to Giselle's desk. The two of you never saw eye to eye, and your distaste for her was palpable. Maybe it was your jealousy... Maybe it was just that you wanted her so bad and you couldn't admit it to yourself. Giselle, on the other hand, couldn't stand your uppity attitude, regarding you as just another brown–noser.

"Good morning, Giselle. Looks like we've been assigned to work on a project together." you said, your voice monotonous and devoid of emotion.

Giselle looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Fantastic," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

With that, the two of you began to begrudgingly work on the project together. Your dislike for each other radiated from your pores. As you two scrolled through the new idol's information and material. Giselle would intentionally misplace important folders, and you would occasionally interrupt her while she was voicing out an idea to steal said idea. This back and forth would increase in passive–aggressive animosity gradually for the course of the first few weeks of the project.

On the first checkpoint, the two of you presented a draft of the idol's profile. The manager looked pleased and thanked you for your hard work. "It's a great start, and I believe with a few more tweaks, we'll have a solid profile. Keep up the good work, you two."

You and Giselle both nodded, unable to muster a smile. As you parted ways back to your respective desks, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered between you. It was like, despite not clicking on a personal level, you and Giselle complement each other well on a business level. It had been a tiring, stressful and oddly entertaining few weeks, but you two had made some progress... with the project, of course.

As the weeks dragged on, the project began to slowly take shape. You found yourself unable to deny the professional synergy between the two of you. Giselle, as an idol with experience, gave insight into the music industry, allowing you to form a cohesive and realistic looking profile for the idol. This gave you two the edge and even sped up the progress by a substantial amount.

As you worked on the profile, you found Giselle's opinions invaluable, much to your chagrin. Every time you'd disagree, you couldn't help but reflect on it when you got home and realised how right she was. She knew exactly how to word things to make the new idol's story more relatable and engaging. It pained you to agree or even highlight her ideas and opinions but... her knowledge is what helped you two progress this far.

The discography was a slightly different beast. Giselle's experience in the studio helped guide the project in the right direction. You'd listen to the songs she recommended, incorporating them into the discography, and as a result, the new idol's work was steadily becoming more cohesive. Despite still being in aespa, Giselle opted for you to go through the discography of other groups and idols.

The photoshoot concept was where Giselle shined the most. With her fashion sense and styling, she could see the complete picture of how an idol's story should be told through visuals. Not wanting to let the rivalry go, you'd argue over the smallest details, like the color palette and the type of props. Much to your dismay however, you'd eventually settle on something that worked for both of you.

Tensions between the two of you had seemingly eased. You were unable to pick her apart anymore for you never had a reason to. It felt like you might be on the path of... becoming friends... You found yourself laughing at her sarcastic remarks and even cracking a joke or two. The project brought you closer in a way you didn't expect. You could feel yourself wanting to be closer, wanting to be around her, wanting... her? However, there was still a simmering animosity there, like a fuse waiting to be lit.

On the day of the final presentation, the two of you were decked out in your respective work attire. Giselle was in a short, black dress with long sleeves that hugged her waist and curves, paired with black, knee–high boots. You, on the other hand, were in a navy blue suit with a crisp, white shirt beneath. Once again, you felt your disdain towards her challenged as the way she dressed sent an odd feeling surging through your body. It's like you couldn't look away.

The two waited in a meeting room, sat on opposite sides of the long desk. The manager walked in, his expression impressed. "This is fantastic work, you two. You've done an excellent job in bringing this new idol's profile to life. It's a perfect reflection of who she is. I should put you on more projects together."

The moment the manager left, Giselle smirked. "You know, for a minute there, I almost thought we were a team." Her tone was slightly aggravating, and her words were a clear jab at you.

You clenched your jaw, the familiar dislike and disdain for her bubbling back up. "Y–Yeah, well, it was all an act on my end. You're lucky I needed this project to succeed." The words were spoken without a single glance in her direction. You felt an odd ache in your heart, it was almost as if you actually thought things were straightening out between the two of you.

Giselle's eyes narrowed, and she stood from the desk with a huff. "Whatever. I'm going to head out for lunch. I'm too hungry for this right now, Y/N." With that, she stormed off.

You shook your head, letting out a sigh as you stood from the desk as well. You made your way to the desk to lay your stuff down before heading out of the building to grab lunch, you noticed that it seemed to be raining heavily and brought your coat with you. That's when you spot a familiar curvy figure at the building's entrance, hiding just out of sight. You walked over to her as you stepped out of the sliding glass doors.

"I thought you were heading off to lunch, what happened?" you asked, your tone smug.

Giselle looked up at you, obviously not pleased to see you, "...are you blind or something? It's raining, and I haven't got an umbrella. I'm just gonna sit here and wait it out."

You playfully pouted as you too looked out at the pouring rain. You sighed and hung your head. "Get up." You gestured for her to stand up before taking your own coat off and handing it to her.

She hesitated before grabbing it reluctantly and scurrying off into the rain.

"HEY– THAT'S MY COAT–" you chased her as she ran.

You couldn't help but stand for a moment and laugh to yourself as this hiatus–ridden idol ran through the rain using your suit coat as cover. You shook your head before braving the downpour yourself, trying to catch up with, but she seemed to be quite fast. Her black dress hugged her curvy frame, and for a moment, you couldn't help but admire how well it fit her. Wet strands of her hair clung to her face as she turned back to face you teasingly, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of protectiveness.

You ran through the rain as she did the same. Eventually, you caught up to her, finding shelter under a building. "Jeez, for someone in high heels– you run fast..." Giselle glanced at you, a hint of a smirk forming. "Yeah? Well, I'm hungry, sorry if you can't keep up~" she tossed the wet coat into your arms, granting a look of slight discomfort from you.

You began to ring your coat out as she approached you once more, "When you're done, just come and find me. I guess I could let you eat with me." As quickly as she approached, she left, back towards the table.

About half an hour passed, you sat adjacent to her, enjoying a delicious meal. "Thanks for the jacket... by the way." You raised your head from your meal, nodding with your mouth full. "Don't worry about it. Figured it was the least I could do since you kinda helped us get the project done as quick as we did."

"Sorry for throwing your jacket back at you..." she apologised with a hint of brattiness. It was as if she wasn't really sorry. "It's fine. You don't like me and I was kinda expecting you'd do that."

She sighed before turning to face you, "And what do you want in return?" She batted her eyes, her confidence and sex appeal on full display.

You cleared your throat, feeling the heat in your cheeks. "Uh... Just pay for lunch, and we're cool," you stuttered out, trying to play it cool.

"Fine," Giselle replied, her face returning back to looking void.

As you two continued eating, Giselle started to open up. She wasn't letting you in on her lore, but more of just, coming out of her shell and speaking to you. You found yourself laughing at her jokes, enjoying her quips and sarcasm. The more time you spent with her, the more you realized you were starting to fall for her. You couldn't deny the way her gaze made your stomach flutter, or how her touch sent shivers down your spine.

Giselle, however, tried to maintain her distance. Every time she caught you staring, she'd make a snide comment or change the subject. You could see the unapproving glare in her eyes, but it only fueled your desire to win her over. It wasn't that she hated you, she was just, not into like that... not yet, at least.

However, as time went on, more lunches and work sessions went by, and Giselle began to open up around you. The sarcastic remarks became more playful, and the subtle glares disappeared.

One evening, a few minutes till the end of the work day, your manager approached your desk to let you know that you and Giselle will be joining the new idol on a tour. You looked up, your expression surprised. "What do you mean? You want us to buy tickets for all her shows?"

"What? No– You two will be joining her as she goes around for her tours. I'll book you one extra room for you two to share because that's how much we've got left of the budget. No funny business, or do, I don't really care."

His voice growled at the end as he turned and walked to Giselle's desk to tell her the exact same thing. As he left, you could see Giselle's eyes poking right above the desk dividers, a knowing eyebrow raise etched on her face. A few days go by and you two have found yourself in a hotel room together after the new idol's first performance. Giselle, now much more comfortable with you than before, leaned in close to you, her chest almost touching your arm. "Y/N, I think you've done a great job with this project," she whispered in your ear. You could feel her warm breath, and your heart raced.

"Wha– Huh?" you stuttered, your cheeks burning red.

She smirked before returning to unpack her things. "You wanna go out for a drink?" She asked, her ass swaying in the air as she reached down for her suitcase. You couldn't help but be drawn to her, like she was some sort of siren. You slowly approached her before deciding to grab her waist and gently buck yours against hers.

"What are you doing?" Giselle asked, standing back up. "You need something?"

You snapped out of your trance–like state, "Huh? What? Oh, uhh nothing. Sorry, just uhh– Yeah, it's nothing." You waddled back to your side of the room, blinking sporadically. "Yeah, I'd be down for some drinks." Giselle raised an eyebrow at you, not entirely sure of what just happened, but decided to brush it off.

You both arrived at the bar later that night and ordered a cocktail each. Giselle sipped her cocktail, her hair tousled, and her makeup a tad smudged from the hectic day of watching over this new idol. But your gaze settled on Giselle, entranced. As the night went on, the air grew thick with flirtation.

Eventually, Giselle reached out and took your hand, her fingers entwined with yours. "Y/N, I don't know what it is about you, but you've grown on me," she admitted, her eyes searching for yours, unsure.

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "And I've grown on you, too, Giselle," you responded, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. It was an odd feeling. You could tell she was still quite reserved but she said it. You'd grown onto her. Maybe... just maybe, you should seize this opportunity, with a kiss...

You leaped into her arms, pulling her close for a passionate, deep kiss. The grumpy and unapproving façade slipped away, replaced by passion and desire. Her tongue began to intertwine with yours, as both your hands gripped onto her ass. Was this the cocktails? Certainly not, right? It can't be that you two got this drunk over one cocktail.

But alas, it wasn't the alcohol. It was the gradual build up of desire fostered through business rivalry and the need to be better than the other. You couldn't take it anymore, you lifted her into a bridal carry and rushed her back to the hotel room. Your frantic movements looked as though you were about to piss your pants. You probably were, but not due to poor bladder management, maybe just excitement.

Once in, you slammed the door shut, still holding Giselle in your arms. You could feel her heart racing against your chest, echoing yours. With a smirk, you laid her on the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath her. Giselle's plaid skirt clung to her hips and thighs, and her black lace panties revealed themselves.

She nodded, a hungry look in her eyes. "Then have me~ Take them off, Y/N."

You slowly pulled her panties down, until they reached her ankles. Giselle lifted her legs, slipping them off, revealing her moist, wet folds. Your cock twitched, eager to be enveloped by her. You licked your fingers before gliding two of them over her folds.

You unbuttoned your shirt, letting Giselle gaze at and caress your chest with her fingers. "Damn, you were hiding that from me?" Your pants pooled somewhere on the room floor as you lined yourself up with her entrance. Giselle laid there, her eyes teasing but also begging. She adjusted her glasses and rolled her top up, just enough for her gorgeous twin girls to be seen, still confined by her lacey black bra, but not enough for her top to be off.

"Not yet, Y/N~ You wanna see them? Feel them? You've gotta earn it~" She teased, tracing your jawline with her finger. She reached up and grabbed you by the back of your neck, pulling you in for another, intense kiss. The kiss was deep, hungry, and passionate, your tongues mingling as you plunged yourself into her.

Breaking the kiss, you feel your cock bottom her out, the tip of your cock already dripping with pre–cum inside her. "FUCK– YOU'RE SO TIGHT–" Giselle's eyes widen as she feels you inside her for the first time.

"NNGH~ Fuck yes, Y/N!" she responded, her voice shaky with desire.

You smirked as you began to pound her roughly, your lips unable to pull themselves away from hers. She bit her lip, moaning softly.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm...", she let out a breathy moan, "...so full. You feel so fucking good, Y/N."

You smirked, thrusting in and out of her slow and steady at first. Giselle's legs wrapped around your waist, her nails digging in.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." Giselle moaned, arching her back, hips moving to match your thrusts.

Giselle's desire is burned brightly within her, and you loved feeling the power of being inside her. You're in control, the rhythm of your thrusts increasing in speed, causing Giselle's moans to grow louder.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop... Mmmf~" Giselle encouraged, her moans garnering more intensity.

You couldn't, you wouldn't stop. Your thrusts quicken, your hips slamming into her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You lean down to kiss her, your mouths crashing together, your tongues tangling, each thrust aligning with a sharp inhale from Giselle.

The heat between the two of you was intoxicating, and Giselle's moans grew louder, her grip on your back tightening. You can feel the walls of her pussy gripping you tighter and tighter, milking you for all you're worth.

"You like this, don't you? You like feeling my cock bottom you out."

Giselle nodded, her eyes rolling out as her tongue stuck out. You leaned down and used your teeth to lift her bra off her tits before helping yourself to them. You flicked each nipple with your tongue, letting your head swim onto them like a baby being breastfed.

"Y/N, I'm... I'm gonna cum... oh, God, Y/N," she panted, her walls clenching around you as she reached her climax. "Please– Kiss me–"

She pressed her lips onto yours as she let herself indulge in your taste. She felt your cock twitch and throb within her. "Cum inside me. Breed me."

Hearing the way she begged and commanded nearly pushed you over the edge. "I'm... I'm close, Giselle..." you panted, your thrusts became more frantic, the build–up to climax an intense, heady feeling.

Giselle's eyes fluttered open, her face flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Cum with me, Y/N, I want to feel you cum inside me. Fill. Me. Up."

You gripped the sheets tightly, your thrusts growing more erratic, your cock pulsating inside her.

"Oh God, Giselle– I'm gonna cum~!" you shouted, your cock twitching, the tip of your cock pulsating inside her, spurts of hot, thick cum flooding her insides, your body trembling. Giselle screamed as she orgasmed, her pussy clamping down onto your shaft. She shuddered and gasped.

You collapsed on top of her, chest heaving, a mixture of sweat and lust coating your bodies. "Fuck– Giselle– I– I–" you struggled, pressing a kiss to her lips, spent.

She's panting, her chest rising and falling. "That was... unexpected... We should uhm... do more of that... maybe not tonight, but we definitely should..." Giselle says, her hand tracing your back, her fingertips gentle, her eyes filled with a newfound appreciation for you.

You smile, gazing at her, "I agree, I came so hard... But I'm glad I could... surprise you, Giselle."

Her smile is small, tender, her eyes soft and forgiving. "Yeah..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

#x male reader #smut #kpop smut #x male!reader #girl group smut #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x you #giselle smut #giselle x reader

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lovelytsunoda · 3 months ago

Text

its going to be a cold winter | lando norris

summary: it’s landos first christmas with his girlfriends family, and as long as he doesn’t let his ugly christmas sweater catch fire, he should be fine. right?

pairing: lando norris x female reader

warnings: family christmas content, lando and y/n both have some major moments of self doubt, but it's mostly just holiday fluff. some suggestive content, but barely any. i'm sorry its so short lmao i kind of lost steam towards the end, but i started out super strong!! it's a fic about nothing lmao enjoy it.

frank sinatra played softly in the background of the country house as y/n puttered around, straightening the christmas pillows and lighting the pine candles throughout the house. her dad got a fire burning in the living room, and the kitchen smelled like warm apple pie. snow was falling gently outside, blanketing the roof of her old audi.

lando would be here any minute, and it was important that everything be just perfect.

it was their first christmas together, and y/n was anxious as all hell about having lando visit the house where she grew up. she knew that the country house was different from the house where lando grew up, and the lifestyle he was accustomed to now.

of course, she didn't know that lando was just as nervous as she was, anxiously drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he pulled off the highway. what would her parents think of him? would they find him pretentious? too much of a player?

it was obvious as he steered his top-of-the-line mercedes into the gravel driveway, parking next to his lover's aging audi sedan that the environment where she grew up was so different from his. a decrepit volkswagen beetle sat next to the garage, no doubt a project for her dad to tinker with.

snowflakes dusted his hair as he attempted to maneuver the laundry basket full of wrapped presents out of his narrow trunk. he knocked on the door, hiding his shaking hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. he could hear music coming from inside, see the shadows of a figure rushing to open the front door.

"lando! you made it." y/n beamed, opening the front door, a wide smile on her face. she threw her arms around him, kissing him softly before brushing the snow off of his jacket. "i'm glad you're here. everybody is so excited to meet you."

lando stepped inside, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. as his hands began to thaw, family members came rushing at him from all sides, gushing about how they were glad he'd found the place all right, and how it was so lovely to meet him. y/n shooed them all out of the main hallway, but not before her mother managed to shove a christmas sweater into his arms, insisting that he wear it.

"let's try that again." y/n grumbled, clearly biting back a curse word as she wrapped her arms around lando's midsection, resting her chest just over from his heart. "thank you for coming. and mom's sweaters are horrific, please don't feel like you have to wear it."

lando chuckled, unfolding the sweater, which prominently featured a reindeer with a blinking nose, activated by a button hidden in the right sleeve. "why wouldn't i wear it? this thing is hysterical."

"here, let me help." she smiled, helping him out of the jacket. "and you didn't need to bring gifts either. nobody would have been mad if you didn't."

"baby, i think you're worrying too much." lando laughed, pulling the sweater on over his black t-shirt. "everything is going to be fine."

"says the man who worried the entire drive here and called me over his bluetooth three times before he got of the m60." she joked, poking him over the heart. "this is new for both of us."

the pair wandered through the house, converging in the living room with the rest of the family. a christmas tree stood against an exposed brick wall, and two young men in christmas sweaters just as atrocious as the one lando was wearing were sat by the fire with their arms around their partners. a four year old girl was running around the room with a jingle bell paddle in her hand, shaking it up and down. from the expressions on the faces of the other guests, she had been doing that for a while.

"lando, this is my cousin, james, and his wife alexandra. and this is my brother will and his girlfriend clara. the little munchkin in the red dress is eliza, james and alex's daughter."

"nice to meet you!" will said, getting up from the floor. "y/n has told us so much about you!"

"only good things, i hope." lando joked, shaking will's hand. she could see the nervous crinkle at the corner of his eyes, hear what was slightly off in his voice. she reached out to lay a ahnd on his back, fingers splayed, hoping it was reassuring. she felt him relax under her touch, and her heart burned with love for the mclaren driver.

eliza ran over towards him, waving a set of antlers in her hand. "these are for you." she giggled, standing on her tiptoes and reaching for lando's head, despite only coming up to his torso.

beaming, lando knelt down and allowed eliza to put the antlers on his head. he sat next to y/n on the couch, curled up with her as they listened to alexandra talk about how she met james.

"you don't need to wear the antlers if you don't want to. lize will lose interest in like, ten minutes."

lando made a face. "of course i want to. i want your family ot love me, and clearly its pretty easy to win eliza's affections."

she laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "i'm going to go and help mom and aunt deb with the honey potatoes. you'll be okay here by yourself?"

"of course he will!" will shouted. "we'll take good care of mr. mclaren for you!"

in the kitchen, y/n found her mom and her aunt puttering about, adding honey to the roast potatoes and pulling the apple pie out of the oven. it was wrapped in tinfoil, with brown sugar and apple goo oozing out of the graham cracker crust. she tied her hair back into a tight knot, reaching over her head to take a bone china mug out of the kitchen cabinet.

"i really like him." her mom said, a knowing smile on her face as she hugged her daughter. "you did good, sweetie."

"he's really good with eliza." deb noted. "so, are there any wedding bells nearby in your futures?"

"aunt deb!" y/n whined. "we haven't even been together a year yet."

"look at alex and james. they were only together for six months."

because they wanted to fuck and the church said they couldn't do that unless they were married, she thought cynically.

"i really do like him. he was so scared to come here today. i think he thought you'd find him pretentious."

"we could never." her mom laughed, pulling her in for a hug. "go spend some time with lover boy. your father and your uncle are coming in from the barbecue with the turkey in a few minutes."

"thanks mom." she kissed her mom's cheek before she grabbed her mug of hot chocolate and rejoined the other young folk in the living room.

lando stood next to the tree, laughing gleefully as eliza ran circles around him, wrapping him in tinsel. alex was laughing to herself, filming the encounter on her iphone. y/n stood watching in the doorway. lando looked up and met her eyes, winking at her dramatically before attempting to blow her a kiss.

later that night, after barbecued turkey and honey potatoes, with a dessert of warm apple pie and vanilla ice cream, lanod joined his lover on the couch with two fresh mugs of hot chocolate. she curled into his arm, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. the fire was crackling, and everybody was gathered around the tree for the gift exchange.

"i love you, lando norris."

"and i love you, y/n y/l/n." he replied softly, a peice of silver tinsel falling out of his hair.

"and i can't wait to get you out of this ugly christmas sweater." she whispered, voice husky. my old room is up in the loft above the garage, and it's pretty soundproof."

"i like the way you think, angel girl."

#the christmas collection 2024 #lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #mini fic

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shjsnjkj · 3 months ago

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GLASSES┊p.sh

kinktober day 19! -masterlist

warnings: smut, MDNI, unprotected sex, making out, fingering

genre: smut

☆ boss!sunghoon x worker!reader ; “I can’t endure it anymore, come to me. Just a little bit closer.” Stealing glances with your boss wasn't the best idea, especially when you're working on an important project and you're supposed to give it your all. He didn't like the result, it was full of mistakes and you had to get yourself together, as he said. So you had to stay overtime. Nevertheless, you were not alone, Sunghoon stayed with you and helped you get yourself together in every way possible.

taglist: @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

Imagine...

boss!Sunghoon who is very strict when it comes to you but never fails to help you out when needed.

boss!Sunghoon who gives you all the hard work to see you struggle and of course to get you to come to his office to ask for help.

boss!Sunghoon who stares at you behind his monitor. Getting lost in your beautiful eyes, plump lips and long legs which are revealed because of your short skirt.

boss!Sunghoon who licks his mouth and presses them together to help him hold back all of his feelings.

boss!Sunghoon who always touched your shoulder or waist when no one watched. Which honestly, sent a shiver down your spine and made your cheeks heat up.

boss!Sunghoon who you always felt attracted to but didn’t know how to approach him.

boss!Sunghoon who you admired and thought about every day and every night while you pleasured yourself even though his rude behavior sometimes to you.

boss!Sunghoon who you stole glances with today from the morning until the moment he invited you to his office.

boss!Sunghoon who you were a bit scared now since a meaningful project was under your hand. But still managed to give him a soft smile which he didn’t return just stared at you from bottom to top.

boss!Sunghoon who said how many mistakes he found in your work and you need to stay overtime today. So later on the two of you were alone in the whole building.

boss!Sunghoon who asked you to attend an event with him tomorrow but in the skirt, he wanted to see on you. So he brought 5 different skirts from Prada and asked you to try them on in front of him.

boss!Sunghoon who drank his coffee in the middle of the night while staring at you trying on those perfectly fit clothing pieces.

boss!Sunghoon who didn’t take his eyes off of you and couldn’t wait to make you his.

boss!Sunghoon who slowly got up moving closer to you placing his large hands on your waist while whispering on your lips how beautiful you look and how he would fuck you senseless every time he sees you.

boss!Sunghoon who peppered your lips with sweet kisses, biting your lower lip to let his tongue in your mouth.

boss!Sunghoon who pushed you to the wall and started to make out with you heavily.

boss!Sunghoon who kissed your jaw gently moving to your neck down to your collarbones while unbuttoning your shirt.

boss!Sunghoon who sucked on your perfect boobs and you couldn’t stop moaning under his touch.

boss!Sunghoon who made you wetter just by wearing those glasses while he was busy fingering you.

boss!Sunghoon who thrust into you that hit the perfect spot of yours again and again between changing skirts again and again.

boss!Sunghoon who made you cum so hard that you lost all your senses and ended up collapsing in his arms.

boss!Sunghoon who held you in his hands like you were the most precious porcelain doll while you were floating in your afterglow.

boss!Sunghoon who admitted that your work was perfect and he just wanted to spend time with you after-hours.

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keepingitformyself · 28 days ago

Text

older (and wiser): i

synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.

A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader

genre: angst?

warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…

MASTERLIST part ii

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it had been years.

wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.

she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.

she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.

“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.

the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.

“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.

“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”

wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.

“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”

“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.

all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.

“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.

with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.

“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.

wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?

wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.

the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.

though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.

but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?

of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.

so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.

but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.

“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.

wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.

wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.

she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,

"fine."

and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.

she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.

a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.

she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.

now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.

but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.

so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,

stalking your social media.

wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.

but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.

she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.

and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,

editor in chief.

New York Times contributor.

something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.

boyfriend.

she shouldn't care so much, but she does.

you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.

just not with her. not with wanda.

but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.

and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.

the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.

it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.

out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork

is what the caption reads.

wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.

many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?

wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.

after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.

though, she never really fully did.

wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.

wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.

on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.

she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.

he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.

wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.

“fuck!” She whispers to herself.

“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.

wanda is annoyed at herself.

“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.

to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.

it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.

wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.

yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.

but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.

briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.

wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.

she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.

but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.

so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.

your fiancé answers the call.

“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.

“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.

“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,

“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.

“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.

“hello?”

wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.

“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.

“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.

you shook your head.

“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.

your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?

“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.

and all you can think of is how confused you were.

“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”

“that’s good—”

“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.

wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.

she gulps,

“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.

you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”

wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.

“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.

suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.

“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.

wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.

you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.

“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”

with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.

you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?

“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”

but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.

“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”

your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.

with a sigh you finally decide.

“where and when?”

you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,

“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”

you think for a few moments.

“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich. i’ll be in touch with when.”

wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.

“i’ll be there.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #scarlet witch x reader

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educationalcourses · 4 months ago

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Diploma in Operations & Project Management | Free Learning | UniAthena

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#short courses project management #operations and project management #diploma in operation management

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kooyabooya · 5 months ago

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SECRETS & SPELLS

m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words

“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport.

She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always.

“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.”

It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad.

And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly.

Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way.

Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more.

One meeting happens again, and another.

Then the next one.

And the next one.

The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one.

So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like.

And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol. A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?

Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:

“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise - the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility.

“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.”

“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-”

“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.

“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place.

And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried.

Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression.

She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.

“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.”

“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.”

Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.”

With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion:

“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.”

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.”

“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-”

“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.”

It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all.

Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.

You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason.

A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable.

“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.”

“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.”

This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.”

“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?”

You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory.

“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?”

Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list.

“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.”

You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible.

She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room.

The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol.

“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?”

Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown.

Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate.

Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth.

The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever.

She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall.

“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–”

“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.”

“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-”

Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue.

If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it.

Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura.

It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock.

You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first.

She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes.

The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists.

“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein.

Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like.

And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings.

“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva.

You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach.

She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her.

The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation.

Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower.

“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so.

This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable.

“Mmph.”

“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion.

“Mmmmph…”

“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up.

“So fucking good,” she mumbles.

Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman.

The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck.

“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor.

“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?”

How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?

Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha?

“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.”

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?”

“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.”

“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.”

“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.”

Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught.

A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.”

“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat.

“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts.

“Who was the one who woke up early again?”

“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.”

“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on.

“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.”

The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively.

“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently.

“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”

“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?”

(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )

Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura.

“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s?

“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today.

Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock.

“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.”

You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it.

Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin.

“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?”

(Well, yeah. I mean-)

Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle.

The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless.

Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you.

“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.”

“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses.

“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha.

No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided.

Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks.

A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints.

Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer.

Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute.

Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early.

“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?”

“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas.

You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember?

Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out.

Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body.

Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough.

She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire.

“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them.

“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?”

Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure.

“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her.

“Shit!”

Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her.

“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?”

So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame.

Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls.

The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.

Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to.

Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.

“God, I’m going - I'm going.”

The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs.

"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!”

Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight.

A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier.

Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more.

“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.”

“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, God.”

“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.”

The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy.

“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.”

“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.”

You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours.

It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-

“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips.

The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough.

These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers.

And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that.

Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap.

“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.”

You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants.

“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?”

You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside.

“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.”

And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you.

When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs.

“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.”

Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless.

The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives.

“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point.

And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree.

“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off.

Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her.

Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action.

“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?”

“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded.

You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure.

Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.”

Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out.

“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-”

“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’

The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy.

“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.”

“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.”

“-god.”

The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears.

“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.”

“Shut your fucking-ugh.”

“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-”

“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.”

Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first.

The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior.

“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning.

“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.”

You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on.

It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me.

“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-”

Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.”

And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone.

She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside.

Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms.

Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable.

You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours.

“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?”

“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs.

“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.”

It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space.

Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock.

In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close.

Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-

“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers.

You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest.

Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you.

“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.”

Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-

“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?”

“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.”

You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and

“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches.

Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way.

“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets.

There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier.

“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting.

The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans.

“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-”

“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.”

Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more.

Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you.

“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.”

There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants.

“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.”

Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered.

“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers.

A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease.

“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which-

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“

This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise.

“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-”

Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease.

So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock.

These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them.

“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.”

Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit.

“My, fuck- holy fuck-”

“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.”

You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.

And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right.

“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.”

So.

You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own.

Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-

“Babes, I’m going-”

That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably.

Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.

Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair.

“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.”

You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes.

“That isn’t really new news to anyone.”

Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because:

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.”

“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-”

“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“

Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.”

The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.

Every. Single. Time.

#le sserafim smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #sakura smut #kazuha smut #le sserafim sakura #le sserafim kazuha #kpop x male reader

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writeyouin · 1 year ago

Text

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

A/N – I couldn’t stop thinking about this short King after episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel came out. This is mostly a fic for me, to get me back into writing. (WILL DO A MALE AND NONBINARY ONE SOON!)

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.

In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.

Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-

Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.

“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). She’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”

“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.

As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.

First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.

Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?

“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.

“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”

“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”

“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.

“Yep, she’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? She helps with everything here, and she doesn’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”

“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Honestly? Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.

Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’

“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.

It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.

“That’s my girl.”

For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?

She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.

Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.

“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”

“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.

“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”

“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.

“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your maid!”

She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.

“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”

Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.

“Alright,” He agreed.

Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.

“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.

“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.

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elodieunderglass · 15 days ago

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I would like to know more about the common injuries that jockeys like Killie would experience, if/when you feel up to more jockey-posting.

Fictional character Killie (x, x) is an Irish-British jockey working in the UK. He’s in his thirties and races over the flat and jumps, which is slightly unusual, but not wildly so.

Most injuries are incurred by falls. Jump racing has more falls, but jockeys are allowed to be heavier; flat racing goes faster with lighter riders, and has generally worse falls.

Killie is quite short (about 4’10”) and muscular. He has an average amount of injuries - nothing spectacular, but he doesn’t get away with anything either.

References below the cut.

Killie’s injury map was inspired by Irish jump jockey Ruby Walsh’s injury maps. As a jump jockey with a long career, Ruby got injured a lot - and in the process had several horses die under him, making him a controversial and sometimes hated figure (the rider is always blamed personally for injuries to the horse, rather than the people who create the working conditions). Ruby is shown below being partially carried off the track with a fractured leg. Unlike in other sports where you might get some sympathy and maybe a penalty shot or a gold star, jockeys with broken limbs are expected to drag themselves off the track and die somewhere else are expected to project a ruthless attitude about injury.

(EDIT: this injury map isn’t counting Ruby’s concussions, which he described elsewhere as not counting. TERRIBLE.)

While researching jockey injuries online, news sites will constantly be refreshing with news of injuries. Yesterday (20 Jan 2025) Irish jockey Gearóid Harney was knocked out by a fall and was hospitalised, but seems to have escaped serious (permanent) injury. This is pretty much continuous.

Although overlooked by most people, jockeys are considered absolutely fascinating to sports medicine researchers, and there are TONS of primary sources to dive into. Here’s some to get started:

https://www.jsams.org/article/S1440-2440(20)30332-7/abstract

Of course, weight management, substance abuse and disordered eating are a constant source of background issues, underpinning everything from bad bone and dental health to the chronic fatigue, mental health problems and stress experienced by jockeys. Jockeys in the UK and Ireland also do not earn salaries, and are paid per ride; financial uncertainty and fear drive many of them to work while injured. The working conditions of jockeys and racehorses are inextricable and poor, and any analysis should have some class-consciousness about this!!

I don’t know exactly what dental injury Killie incurred in the image below, but it was enough to shock his nice American boyfriend (TM), so it was probably something to do with one of his dental bridges getting spectacularly destroyed.

Thank you so much for this ask I love my ghastly little guy

#Killie and oholythunder #jockeyposting 🏇#Killie my baby you are so ghastly #injury #death

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bamfkeeper · 5 months ago

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Missions Suck.

RQ: 'Since you’re open to requests, I have some ideas that you’ll hopefully enjoy writing, this being the first. The idea is that Kurt is gone on a mission, of which is taking longer than expected, and as such the bamfs and yourself miss him a lot and are anxious without him. So, you and the bamfs organize a little surprise for Kurt when he returns, and of course, a lot of mischievous bamf antics too, along with a tidal wave of them crashing down in Kurt when he returns lol. Just fluffy bamf stuff, along with some romantic kisses and such to Kurt since the reader missed him. Also, take your time with writing anything; burnout is awful so take all the time you need with whatever you write 💙' - @hulkingharbor

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader

Warnings: None <3 .. WC: 3.1k

A/N: I tried to write more detail than my usual works, so I hope that shows ;; I love any scenario with the bamfs, I was really happy to write this one <3

It had been several days since Kurt and the team embarked on a significant mission, leaving you behind at the mansion with the mischievous bamfs. The waiting seemed interminable, each hour stretching into eternity as you anxiously anticipated their return. Initially, you had anticipated a lengthy mission, given that their destination was clear across the country. However, you had reasoned that the team's advanced jet would facilitate a relatively swift journey. Despite this logical assumption, their absence extended far beyond your expectations, each passing day amplifying your concern and restlessness.

As time wore on, you couldn't help but notice a parallel between your own growing unease and the increasingly erratic behavior of the bamfs. These impish creatures, usually a source of playful chaos, seemed to be mirroring your mounting anxiety. With each day that ticked by without word from Kurt and the team, the bamfs' antics escalated in both frequency and audacity. Their usual pranks and mischief-making took on a new intensity, as if they too were feeling the strain of the prolonged separation from their teleporting brethren.

You found yourself constantly torn between amusement at the bamfs' increasingly elaborate hijinks and genuine worry about the state of disarray they were leaving the mansion in. It was clear that their escalating troublemaking was a direct result of their own anxiety and boredom in Kurt's absence. As you attempted to maintain order and keep the bamfs in check, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something must have gone awry with the mission to cause such an extended delay.

Those mischievous little blue creatures hadn't intended to create additional work for you, but their overwhelming anxieties were proving difficult to manage. Their deep attachment to Kurt had left them feeling lost and restless, causing their typically playful behavior to escalate into something more chaotic. Even for someone as patient and understanding as you, their antics were beginning to push the boundaries of what you could handle.

Bamfs, by their very nature, were creatures of boundless energy and enthusiasm. Their penchant for play and their constant scampering about were endearing traits, but they also came with considerable drawbacks. Wherever the blue imps went, a trail of disarray and mess inevitably followed in their wake. You had gone to great lengths to alleviate their stress and channel their energies in more constructive ways.

Your efforts were nurturing, as that was all you could think to do - you'd introduced a wide array of activities designed to engage their curious minds and active bodies. From art projects that allowed them to express their creativity through painting, to an assortment of toys meant to captivate their attention, and even challenging puzzles to stimulate their intellect. However, the bamfs' short attention spans and seemingly insatiable need for novelty meant that these diversions were often short-lived.

They would either master the tasks too quickly, their natural aptitude for mischief allowing them to breeze through what you had hoped would occupy them for hours, or they would simply lose interest, their restless spirits already seeking the next source of excitement.

Kurt's continued absence was palpable, and its effects were evident in the demeanor of the bamfs. These small creatures were not only still visibly anxious but also profoundly sad. Their usually vibrant yellow eyes had taken on a somber appearance, wide and glossy with unshed tears. The depth of their distress was such that some of them appeared too melancholy even to find solace in sleep. As you gently guided them towards their resting places, their movements were slow and labored, a stark contrast to their usual energetic behavior. Their tails, typically held high and swaying with life, now dragged listlessly behind them, creating a poignant visual representation of their emotional state. Observing their profound sadness, you felt a deep ache in your heart. The sight of these usually cheerful creatures so utterly dejected hurt your heart terribly.

"It's going to be okay... I know you miss him terribly. He'll be back soon, I promise you that. Kurt wouldn't leave you little rascals behind for long," you hummed softly, your voice gentle and soothing as you tried to comfort them. You spoke in a calm, reassuring tone, hoping your words would help ease their distress. Deep down, you knew that mere words couldn't fully alleviate their sadness, and you could see the lingering sorrow etched on their faces. It was clear that your attempts at consolation weren't having the desired effect.

A wave of empathy washed over you as you witnessed their dejected state. Your heart ached seeing them so forlorn and melancholy. Unable to stand their sadness any longer, you reached out and gently petted one of them, your touch conveying the comfort that words couldn't. "It's alright, little ones... I know, I know. It's sad when Kurt goes away, isn't it? I understand how much you want to be with him right now. But you have to remember, they said the mission was far too dangerous for you to join. Kurt cares about your safety above all else."

As anticipated, the bamfs reacted unfavorably to the news. These diminutive creatures had a well-known tendency to respond negatively when faced with any form of denial or refusal. Their sensitivity to disappointment was particularly evident in this instance. Consequently, you experienced a pang of guilt when you observed some of them beginning to weep, clearly longing for Kurt's presence. The sound of their tiny, mournful cries intensified your feelings of remorse, prompting you to take immediate action to console them. "There, there... it's alright... everything will be okay," you murmured in a soothing tone, your voice barely above a whisper. You delicately stroked their small heads with a tender touch, your fingers moving in slow, comforting circles. While comforting them, you carefully tucked them into the soft, warm blankets, ensuring they were snugly enveloped in the cozy fabric.

Finally, the bamfs had already settled in, their small forms nestled comfortably on the bed. With a heavy sigh, you lowered yourself onto the mattress beside them, feeling the soft give of the bedding beneath you. As you lay there, your eyes gradually drifted closed, and you felt yourself slowly slipping into slumber, surrounded by the comforting presence of the bamfs.

The absence of Kurt was hard on all of you, a void that seemed to hang in the air around you all. You couldn't help but dwell on the fact that this particular mission he was on carried more risk than usual, a thought that gnawed at the edges of your mind and left you feeling uneasy. So many thoughts ran across your mind, so many things that could go wrong. You tried to ignore them. Despite your own worries, you made a conscious effort to maintain a calm demeanor for the sake of the bamfs. You didn't want to burden them with the full extent of your concerns, so you carefully downplayed the situation, offering reassuring words and gentle smiles whenever they looked to you for comfort.

As you drifted off to sleep, your subconscious mind continued to process the day's events and your lingering anxieties. Your slumber was punctuated by brief moments of restlessness, your dreams tinged with vague unease. Despite these occasional disturbances, you managed to make it through the night.

The subsequent days were filled with the same worry. Despite your best efforts to maintain a calm demeanor for the sake of the bamfs, they possessed an innate ability to perceive your growing anxiety regarding Kurt's return. Those little things had keen intuition, which allowed them to sense your inner turmoil, even as you attempted to mask it. In Kurt's absence, the bamfs looked to you for guidance, support, and reassurance. Their bright yellow eyes, brimming with innocence and need, gazed upon you with an intensity that both touched and burdened your heart.

As the weight of responsibility settled heavily upon your shoulders, you found yourself giving a deep, weary sigh. Slowly, you sat up from the comfort of the couch, your movements betraying the emotional exhaustion you felt. Turning to face the expectant bamfs, you addressed them with a voice tinged with regret and frustration. "I'm sorry, little ones... I still haven't received any word from him," you muttered, your tone conveying the disappointment and concern that had become all too familiar in recent days.

Even as you spoke those words, a part of you knew, with a mixture of resignation and hope, that you likely wouldn't hear from Kurt until the moment he stepped through the door, returning home once again.

You were leisurely preparing a meal for yourself in the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate as you chopped vegetables and stirred pots on the stove. Your mind had drifted into a zoned out, almost meditative state, focused solely on the rhythmic motions of cooking to distract from the anxieties you had felt the past few days. Suddenly, the sharp vibration of your phone on the counter jolted you back to full awareness, breaking through your culinary reverie. With a slight start, you reached out and grasped the device, your fingers wrapping around its familiar shape. As you lifted it to eye level, the screen illuminated, revealing a notification that made your heart beat faster. Your eyes quickly scanned the message preview, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you saw that it was from Kurt.

'On the way back, liebe...should be back by tonight. xo <3'

You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief and joy wash over you. The news you had been impatiently waiting for had finally arrived – he was okay, and he would be returning home soon! Your heart swelled with excitement and anticipation. Unable to contain your enthusiasm, you found yourself instinctively beginning to tidy up the house, eager to create a welcoming atmosphere for his arrival.

As you bustled about, your gaze fell upon the bamfs, those adorable little creatures currently engrossed in whatever was playing on the television. A warm smile spread across your face as you decided to share the wonderful news with them. "Kurt's coming home tonight," you announced, your voice brimming with happiness and barely contained excitement. You paused for a moment, an idea forming in your mind. "So... why don't we work together to make this place a bit neater to welcome him? I'm sure he'd appreciate coming back to a tidy home, don't you think?"

The bamfs, upon hearing the news of Kurt's imminent return, all simultaneously broke into the biggest, most infectious grins you had ever seen. Their eyes lit up with excitement, and without a moment's hesitation, they leapt to their feet, their previous TV-induced stupor completely forgotten. It was clear that they were not only ready but eager to help, their enthusiasm matching your own. The prospect of preparing a warm welcome for Kurt had energized them.

They were all pitching in, diligently sweeping floors, wiping surfaces, and tidying up various corners of the house. To an outsider, the home might have appeared to be in a state of disarray, but you understood that there was a method to the apparent madness. The organized chaos was actually a well-oiled system in motion, each participant playing their part in the grand scheme of cleaning.

As a thoughtful gesture, you decided to bake a special German treat for Kurt to enjoy upon his return, one of his favorites. The bamfs were eager to assist in any way they could, though their help often bordered on playful interference. They showed particular interest in the baking process, their eyes widening with excitement at the sight of the mixing bowl filled with tempting batter.

As you mixed the bowl, the bamfs began squabbling over who would get the coveted privilege of licking the mixer attachments. Their enthusiasm quickly escalated, and before long, two of them were engaged in a spirited tussle on the kitchen counter. Gentle nips and acrobatic tumbles came from the pair of brawling bamfs, it was an amusing spectacle that you couldn't help but find endearing, despite the potential mess.

"Hey, hey! That's quite enough of that..." you intervened, carefully separating the two squabbling bamfs. With a patient smile, you addressed them, "You can both have some. There's plenty to go around. Now, let's sit down and behave ourselves, shall we? We just cleaned up after all." You handed them each a spoon laden with leftover batter, hoping it would satisfy their sweet tooth and curb their exuberance.

As you watched them eagerly lick their spoons, you couldn't help but let out a small sigh. The love you felt for these energetic imps was undeniable, but you had to admit that their hyperactive nature was starting to wear on you. The thought of Kurt returning home and lending a hand in managing the lively bunch brought a sense of relief.

That evening seemed to stretch on endlessly, the minutes ticking by at an agonizingly slow pace. You found yourself gathered on the couch with the blue babies, anxiously awaiting any sign of his return. The tv played something you only half paid attention to, your mind more focused on Kurt coming home than anything else. The air was thick with anticipation, and every small noise made you perk up in hope. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a familiar BAMF - a sound that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. In an instant, a cloud of dark, sulfurous smoke materialized in the room, dissipating to reveal that cheeky German standing before you.

Kurt Wagner, in all his blue-furred glory, had returned at last.

He looked utterly exhausted, his posture slightly slumped and his golden eyes a bit dimmer than usual, but otherwise, he appeared to be okay, no injuries that you could see. A wave of relief washed over you, and your heart swelled with joy at the sight of him. Without a moment's hesitation, you sat up quickly, your voice filled with excitement and relief as you exclaimed, "Kurt!"

The reaction from the bamfs was instantaneous and overwhelming. Like a tidal wave of blue fur and enthusiasm, they surged forward en masse, their tiny forms blurring together in their haste. With surprising speed and coordination, they converged on Kurt, tackling him with such force that he stumbled backward, barely managing to keep his footing. In seconds, he was completely engulfed by the swarm of miniature teleporters, each one vying for the best position to snuggle as close as possible.

They climbed over each other, chirping and cooing in delight, their little hands grasping at his costume and fur. It was a heartwarming yet slightly comical sight - the tall, lean figure of Nightcrawler almost completely obscured by a writhing mass of adoring bamfs, all competing fiercely for his attention and affection. You could see his tail wagging up from the pile, which made you laugh lightly, that was all you could see of your darling boyfriend.

"Okay, okay, my turn! I missed him too!" You exclaimed with a mixture of excitement and impatience, slowly but determinedly wiggling your way into the welcoming pile of bodies until you finally found him. As your eyes met his, a warm smile spread across his face, his sharp fangs peeking out endearingly from beneath his upper lip.

"Liebe...oh, how I've missed you..." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. In one swift motion, he enveloped you in his strong arms, pulling you close against his chest in a tight, all-encompassing embrace. You felt him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize your scent all over again. The weariness in his movements was extremely noticeable; you could sense how utterly exhausted he was, yet there was an unmistakable joy radiating from him at finally being home.

You pulled back just enough to kiss him, your lips meeting his gently, lovingly, tenderly. The softness of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you both savored the precious moment of reconnection. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the warmth of each other's embrace, your hearts beating in perfect synchronization. As the seconds ticked by, the initial gentleness of your kiss gradually transformed into something more intense and passionate. You felt a growing urgency in his touch, a desperate need to be closer to you after your time apart. His hands gripping your hips with increased fervor, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entrance, which you gladly granted.

As your tongues danced and explored, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of passion and desire. Just as you were losing yourself completely in the moment, a small, unexpected chirp pierced through the haze of your passion. One of the bamfs had inadvertently interrupted your intimate moment. The sudden sound startled you both, effectively breaking the spell that had enveloped you. Reluctantly, he pulled back, his eyes still clouded with desire but now tinged with a hint of embarrassment at getting a bit too carried away.

"Ach...apologies, liebling...I...I just missed you so much..." he murmured, his accent thicker than usual, betraying the depth of his emotions. His golden eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of love, longing, and a touch of sheepishness at his loss of control. Despite the interruption, the air between you still crackled with unresolved tension, a testament to the strength of your connection and the depth of your feelings for each other.

"It's alright, my love," you whispered soothingly, gently squeezing his hand. "You've had such a long and tiring journey. How about we get you to bed for a little while? All the bamfs and I are absolutely thrilled to have the chance to cuddle up with you again..." Your voice was filled with warmth and affection as you spoke. You leaned in and gave him a tender, lingering kiss on the cheek, then carefully helped him to his feet. Kurt didn't hesitate to agree, gratitude evident in his weary smile. The dark circles under his eyes were a clear testament to his exhaustion, hinting at the many sleepless nights he must have endured during his time away.

"Ja, okay..." he replied with a soft smile, his golden eyes twinkling with affection. Kurt eagerly followed you to bed, his tail swaying gently behind him as he walked. He was looking forward to getting some well-deserved rest after a long mission, he’d give you all the details later. The thought of being surrounded by the love of his life - you - and his beloved bamfs filled him with a warm, comforting feeling. As he settled into bed, he could already feel the stress of the day melting away, you curled beside him and the bamfs all around. He couldn’t be any more comfortable as sleep quickly took him.

"Sleep well..." you gave him a sweet, soft kiss on the forehead, letting him nuzzle into your chest and sleep.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Image: Nightcrawler (2014) #2

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #xmen #x men #x men 97 #🎠my works

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