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kurooh · 14 days ago

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★ 02. MORNING ROUTINE !

☆ after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, you’re off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, you’re roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words

xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily ♡

SHOWTIME MLIST.

“hey, good morning,” shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. “how’d yesterday’s shoot go for you?”

“good morning!” you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. “let’s get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?”

“sounds good,” he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. “it’s definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.”

“ah, it is. anyway, filming wasn’t too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.” you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.

shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. “how’d it go with your co-star? i figured he’d be a good introduction for you.”

“shōto was nice,” you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “um . . i think we ended up doing well together.”

shinsou’s not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.

“that’s good! i’ve been meaning to ask you about what you’re interested to do today,” shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. “i’ll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and don’t worry, i’ll just cover your drink.”

“oh,” you’re in the middle of unzipping your purse, “you really don’t have to, shinsou! i’ve got it.”

“i insist, it’s my treat.” he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once it’s your turn.

“what were you saying about filming today?” you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.

“oh, that’s right. you’ve been booked by a lot of different people, so you’ve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think you’ve got some decent options.”

“is that so?” you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shōto. but of course, you’re employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.

shinsou’s voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. “well, there’s this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.”

“those are not good options,” you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. “who’re the people booking? anyone important?”

“obviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm is—”

you’ve seen denki kaminari’s videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but he’s good looking and you’re not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.

“i’ll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?”

“kaminari’s a bit . . eccentric,” shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. “he doesn’t usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.”

so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. “that’s not ideal, but i’ll take it. when’s it scheduled?”

shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, “if you’re going for this, you’re supposed to be over there in an hour.”

the barista calls out shinsou’s name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminari’s agent.

your arrival to shinsou’s office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when you’re going around in it.

shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.

hey! please change into this before arriving to set, director’s orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesn’t look like it.

“i assume this is from kaminari?” you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.

“of course it is,” shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, “you can change in here before you head over. by the way, you’re heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.”

“thanks, shinsou.”

unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though it’s never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, you’ll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shōto.

shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dress—it looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.

“could you help me tie this, shinsou?”

“of course,” he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots you’ve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. “you look great, by the way.” immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.

“thanks. wish me luck?”

“good luck,” shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. “remember, fourth floor and to the left. there’ll be a sign or something on the door.”

you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.

“there’s my pretty co-star!” an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. “come on, we can head up together!”

you recognize him easily; denki kaminari’s signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and he’s got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isn’t off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though you’re a long lost friend of his.

the elevator’s chugging upwards slowly, and kaminari’s still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; you’re going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and he’s already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.

you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.

“i’m sorry, it’s—we just met,” you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now you’re starting to worry if you’ve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.

kaminari’s features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.

“oh my god! you’re right, i’m so sorry!” he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long it’s taking. “i’m sorry, i really . . i’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think i’m a dumbass—ah, sorry!”

at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.

“wait, i—i want to redo our first meeting.”

you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. “and how exactly do you plan to redo it?”

“with a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.” he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.

“well, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.”

“understood, denki.”

the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.

“there you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. “in the email, you didn’t have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?”

“i am so glad you asked,” she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. “i’ve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.”

“up to us?” denki chokes out, sounding shocked.

“um, yes?” the director sniffs, confused. “remember, you came to me with all of this.”

“director yaomomo, i thought you’d come up with a script!” he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.

“kaminari, please. next time you’re booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure you’ve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.”

“director, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.” a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.

“great, thanks so much,” yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. “so, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, she’ll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while you’re fake sleeping. obviously, you’re aware of what takes place next.”

“so, minimal dialogue?” you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.

“the scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. i’ll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?”

director yaoyorozu’s dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.

—

“is everyone entirely ready and in position?”

a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.

yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her director’s chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you don’t remain steady.

“action!”

you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denki’s shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.

denki’s getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you don’t know?

he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you sigh, a lot less nervous now that you’re no longer holding onto that damn tray. “i made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.”

“t-thank you,” denki smiles, sitting up. “uh, what’s for breakfast?”

“blueberry pancakes and OJ,” you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. “i think you’ll love it.”

there’s something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.

“well?” you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, he’s never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstar—in fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so why’s it so difficult?

a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; they’re sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denki’s tongue.

he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denki’s trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.

you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.

before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, “cut!”

denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. “listen to yaomomo for both of us, ‘kay?”

“b-but they’re not rolling,” you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.

“no rules against it, baby.” the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar you’ve come to know through years of watching UA’s videos.

yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.

“you’re both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didn’t mean no talking at all.”

“do we have to reshoot what we’ve done so far?” you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.

nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.

“no, it’s alright, we’ll just edit everything together before it goes out. you’re both doing great, by the way!” her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.

“action.”

denki’s lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. he’s quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.

“what about the pancakes?” you ask, remembering the director’s tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.

“what pancakes?”

“the ones i made for you,” you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. “over there, with the—”

he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, “fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.

“how do you want it?” denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. “from the back . . bent over?”

the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.

“fuckin’ soaked, baby,” he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. “is this all for me?”

he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.

“o-only for you.”

denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.

“you’ll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like something’s missing.”

you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co star’s weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.

the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.

“i—i don’t think i can t-take all of it,” you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.

“that’s fuckin’ nonsense,” he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. “‘course my girl can take it.”

my girl?

denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. he’s built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how he’s feeling. he’s thankful for this; otherwise, he’d be a bumbling fool who’d accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.

his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.

“g-god, you’ve got no idea how damn long i’ve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,” the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. “ngh, you’re so tight, baby—got me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.”

his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denki’s hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.

“c’mon, babe, arch a lil more for me,” he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.

with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.

“aw, i still wanna hear you clearly.” denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so you’re not muffled any longer.

“f-fuck, you’re so deep,” you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denki’s determined to give you the best sex you’ll ever have at UA studios.

“yeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?” denki’s voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.

it’s only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.

“ooh, you’re squeezin’ me real tight,” denki comments breathily, “i want you to cum for me, got that?”

“‘m so close,” you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. “wanna—wanna cum on your cock!”

this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and he’s unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.

the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesn’t let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.

at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even once—in the moment, it’s amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as you’re coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.

“hah—ah, shit,” you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. “i-it’s too much.”

“oh, ‘m sorry babe,” the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you don’t notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. “she’s looking messy down there, hm?”

denki’s breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.

“i can clean her up for you.”

with that final statement, denki’s tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.

it’s bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you can’t do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.

“i know, i know,” he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. “i jus’ want to make sure you can’t move after this.”

a thorough pussy pounding and now this? there’s no way you’ll be able to stop shaking.

nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely delicious—your expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.

he’s drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you don’t even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.

against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. “fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum, ‘s coming—” your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.

denki’s eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then you’re trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.

“woah,” he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. “you good, baby?”

his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.

it’s hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you haven’t been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where you’d been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.

“i-i wish i didn’t have to, but,” you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, who’s nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. “i’m not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when i’m done?”

the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denki’s cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.

after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.

“excellent, the two of you,” she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. “i’ll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me this’ll do very well.”

you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areas—at least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.

“kaminari, is everything alright?” you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.

“denki,” he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. “i wanted to ask you about—”

the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.

“oh my fucking—i’m so sorry, shit.”

“what is it you wanted to ask, denki?” you ask, embarrassed. it’s like you’re back to square one again, as if you weren’t just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.

“okay, look. me and a few friends of mine—UA stars—” he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, “are hosting a little get together. i’m thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if you—”

“that’s very nice of you.”

the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that he’d introduce you to them.

“i live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,” you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. “what time is it? i’d be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.”

denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. “everything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, ‘kay? here, i’ve gotta give you my number.”

you laugh, pushing him back. “i’ve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. we’ll work it out when i’m done, sound good?”

he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“hey, denki? by the way, i’m really looking forward to tonight.”

621 notes · View notes

kenobers · 3 months ago

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magic hands | Jason Todd x Sionis!Reader

but first free palestine !! Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) tw: periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab readera/n: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!

You cringe a little at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're a little desperate.

Would you-

Too entitled.

Would you mind-

Passive aggressive.

Will-

Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.

yo.

That was fast.

You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.

Can you pick me up some pads?

You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.

It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.

Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.

i don't know, can i?

Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.

yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?

You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.

I'm out of ibuprofen

Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.

...and maybe some ice cream.

you got it babe.

Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.

Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.

which kind

Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.

check. headed your way shawty.

After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.

You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.

"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.

"Your essentials, m'lady."

"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"

"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."

You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.

Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.

Bastard.

"That okay, pretty girl?"

Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.

"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"

You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.

"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.

"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"

"Hey."

Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.

"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."

You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.

"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."

"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."

You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.

When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.

This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.

You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.

He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.

Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.

"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.

"Dude! What the fuck!"

Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.

"It's just CBD."

You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.

"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"

It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.

His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.

"Don't laugh at me."

To his credit, he stops almost immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.

"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."

You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.

"Oh."

You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.

He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.

"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.

It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.

"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."

After a moment, Jason speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."

"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.

"Without your consent."

You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.

"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're sudden determined to move on from the conversation before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."

After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.

"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Huh?"

"You said you use it a lot on your joints. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slit eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.

"I do whenever you get through with me," he says, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."

You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.

"It was nice of you to bring it."

"'s helping?"

"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.

He pauses his work on your hips.

"Where's it hurt?"

"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you."

He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."

You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.

"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.

Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."

He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.

"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"

Absolute professional.

#i must once again warn you this isn't proof read #no beta we die like jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd #red hood #sionis!reader #kenobers poetics #this is a little repetitive but that's fine

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yan-randomfandom · 2 months ago

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hi!!! omg i just discovered your blog and i’m in LOVE! could i request yandere stanford pines (platonic or romantic or some other type is up to you) with a reader who is a reincarnated euclidean/flatworlder/dream demon? (i don’t know if you’re familiar with same coin theory, but that’s my inspiration!) preferably with no/limited memories of their past life? i imagine ford would be pretty suspicious at first because of his experiences with bill, maybe even try to kill them… but who knows if those feelings will change… that, or maybe he would get obsessed with them as a replacement muse… lots of possibilities! feel free to change/add anything to the concept, or if it doesn’t interest you, i’d appreciate any yandere ford in general! thank you!!!

Yandere!Stanford Pines x Godling!Reader

this took me a while, but i finally got around to writing it! thank you for your kind words, anon! this one contains continuous stories— because this is so long, feel free to point out any mistakes

🌑

You have been summoned.

Even from your deep slumber, the presence of other ghastly beings roaming around the dimension was painfully obvious to you. How curious; they don't seem to belong here.

"You. You grant wishes right? No deals?"

The one who summoned you flinched when you made eye contact. With their chin lifted, they tried to seem intimidating, yet the tremble of their lips and the quaking of their legs gave them away.

"Indeed, but," you replied, smiling to the best of your ability. You hovered around them, critically observing their physical body, and, by extension, their soul.

They are nothing short of terrified. But intriguingly, their fear does not mainly stem from your presence.

"Pray tell," you mused, twirling their hair with your fingers, "what happened here, dear human? I've been asleep for some time, so I request a small favor: answer my question."

Because if you had to be honest, you have no fucking idea what's happening right now. The longer you stay awake, the more you realize that you have no memory of your past.

"Bill Cipher happened. This is the Weirdmaggedon," they answered, their body shaking more intensely. You paused. "I don't know what he wants. Please, all I ask is for you to transfer me and my family somewhere safe. The ones I care about have turned to stone. We just want to be happy. Please."

A giggle escaped you. "A noble wish. Very well, I shall send you and your family to the nearest safe place."

You placed your hand on the top of their head, and they vanished out of thin air.

Humming a tune, you made your way out of the cave where you had been trapped and finally saw the world outside.

...

Swirling colors and chaotic phenomena surrounded you. What a monstrosity. Someone else has taken over this area—Bill Cipher, was it?

Turning your head, you saw an enormous bubble wrapped in chains. A grin-like expression stretched across your face.

So that’s where you sent your summoner.

🌒

Weirdmaggedon is officially over.

Stanford knew that. Bill is gone. His brother is slowly but surely regaining his memories back. Everything is going to be... normal again.

As normal as it can be anyway. A sigh left Ford when he rolled over to his side, staring at practically nothing. The room is pitch black.

He closed his eyes.

...

It's bright. With a gasp, his eyes snapped open.

A familiar field. The gentle breeze doesn't calm him down in the slightest. He's back here. Again. Why? Did Bill somehow escape? Is he out for revenge? That stupid dream demon—!!

"Gree—"

Ford shouted, immediately swinging his fist at you. You dodged swiftly in time.

"—tings! Woah!" you huffed, taking extra care to ensure he didn’t land a finger on you. "Is this how you usually greet a higher being, Stanford Pines?"

The human’s heart raced uncontrollably. This can’t be happening. "Bill, what twisted form have you taken now? Didn’t we destroy you already?!"

You blinked, then laughed. "I'm not Bill, silly! He's long gone, I'm pretty sure. How should I know?"

Not Bill? What kind of nonsense are you spewing out? Stanford's expression darkened. This might be a dream, but he really didn’t want to deal with you—especially not after everything that had just happened.

His demeanor didn't go unnoticed.

"...Oh. I'm sorry," you muttered, getting close enough to meet his eyes. They widened at your words. "I didn't mean to laugh at your misery. I've just been so confused lately."

"What?" was all Ford could manage to say.

"I heard all about you," you said carefully, making gestures with your hands. "Human with six fingers. The man who freed Bill Cipher. Who has traveled across dimensions."

"Who told you...?"

You smiled. "I asked many—don't worry about that part. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about myself. You seem to know a lot, Pines."

Ford woke up.

...

Was that just a dream? Were you even real?

Bill is long gone, dead. Isn't he? He won't find the answers to his questions until he falls asleep again.

🌓

Ford doesn't do anything about you until he's sure of himself. You were definitely just a figment of his imagination, right? A dream.

That’s exactly why he couldn’t believe it when you showed up again. A stupid, curious expression on your face.

And this time, Ford took it upon himself to try and kill you.

"Urk! Don’t do this! I understand you're traumatized, but I really am just trying to find my home!" you stammered, flying and dodging every attack he threw your way.

This is weird. You’re saying things Bill would never say. Is he really trying the opposite approach just to manipulate Ford again?

A massive blast from a cannon struck you.

To both of your surprise, the attack did absolutely nothing to damage you.

"I'm alive!" you exclaimed with glee, up in the air, comically rotating from the impact. "Done yet, Pines? I simply want to talk, you know!"

... Of course. Both of you are untouchable in the dreamscape. While you can imagine anything within both the mind and the dream, a being like Bill isn't stupid enough to enter with his actual body. Guess it worked the same way for you, too. It was still worth a shot.

Ford woke up.

🌔

"Finally ready?"

You tittered at him up from above. Ford narrowed his eyes at you.

"What do you want?" he deadpanned. "You're not here to make a deal, are you?"

"Deals are not my forte," you said, showing him a negative gesture. "I do wishes. But if I have to admit, I wouldn't wish something from me either."

"So you trick people," he replied, gritting his teeth. "Why do you feel the need to do that? What benefits do you gain?"

You glanced at the side before looking back at him, shrugging. "I don't remember."

"Is that so? How many wishes?"

"One."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Bill—"

"I am not Bill," for the first time since you've met him, your voice finally sounded firm. "As far as we both know, he is gone."

"... What is your name, then?"

"... I don't remember."

🌕

A frustrated huff left Ford as he rubbed between his eyebrows. You giggled, pushing your hand through his hair. It's soft.

"You're not being helpful at all," he said.

"Apologies," you replied, looking sheepish. "It's hard to answer your questions if I know nothing."

"There must be something you know," the man insisted, stepping away from your touch. He doesn't like how gentle it was.

You hummed, crossing your arms as you floated away. "Do you know how Bill looks like? Am I of similar physique, perhaps?"

Ford paused as his eyes glanced up and down at your form. You can't help but feel uneasy under his tenseful gaze.

"You don't know what Bill looks like?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

This man sure is suspicious of you. Not that you blame him. "No. I believe I never met him."

"You believe?" he scoffed. "I hope you know it's hard to trust you."

"Well," you drawled, "would it convince you if I said you can wish for my memory to come back?"

His eyes widened.

You chuckled. Maybe this was too shocking for him. Take it slow, you thought.

"Before anything else, though, how about we enjoy a nice cup of dream tea?"

🌔

You stared at the chess board in between you and Ford, confusion filling your face. "Wait, how does the knight move again?"

"Think of this shape," Ford explained, forming a black marker with his thoughts and drawing the letter 'L' in mid-air. "The knight moves to the end of this point. Just try to visualize it on the board."

"Oh, I think I understand," you muttered, choosing to move your knight in the corner of the board.

Ford grinned. He placed his queen right next to your king. "Checkmate."

"What?!" you gasped, your eyes rambling around the whole chest board. "I mistook my king for the queen! I say rematch!"

A hearty laugh escaped Ford's lips. If this was in the physical world, he's sure that his cheeks would start hurting from smiling so much.

He still wasn’t sure if you were dangerous or not. Really, of all people, Ford should know better than to mess with otherworldly beings.

But maybe this time, you're different. Because, as far as he knows, you're powerless.

🌓

"Pines," you said as Ford roamed his hands across your body. He said this was his way of observing how different you were from Bill. "Aren’t you going to use your wish to help me regain my memory? Or do you want to use it for something else?"

He rubbed his thumb over the side of your body shape. Interesting. You're just as two-dimensional as Bill is. "I only have one chance of using my wish, don't I?"

"Indeed," you murmured, shifting slightly under his touch. "I won't stop you if you use it for yourself, but I'll have to find someone else who might use the wish for me."

Ford halted all his movements.

"What?"

You drifted away from his fingers. He stared at you, wide-eyed.

"I said I'll find another to grant my wish for me," you explained. "Anyway, how was your assessment? Am I anything like Bill?"

Ford continued to stare at you, looking as if he were lost in thought.

...

"Pines?"

"Sorry," he coughed, "but, yes, you're quite similar to Bill."

You beamed, floating over to him and ruffling his hair. "Another step closer to figuring out who I am! Thank you, Pines!"

Ford woke up.

He stared at the dark ceiling. The sun has barely risen.

You had no memories. If he helped you get them back, would you be indebted to him? Or would you turn out like Bill, who wanted to rule the world?

Ford can't let you meet up with another human.

There's only one way out of this.

🌒

"You're ready to use your wish?" you gasped, placing your hands on his shoulders. "That's excellent news—!"

"Question. Do you have limits in your wishes?" Ford asked deliberately, careful with his every word.

You hesitated before replying. "I suppose not."

His large hands held yours over his shoulders. You glanced at his six fingers before meeting his gaze again.

"Then I wish to be your master."

You felt your soul fall to the deepest depths of the dreamscape.

"You'll do anything I ask for. Be under my will. There is no turning back, dream demon."

🌑

#yandere gravity falls #yandere x reader #stanford pines #yandere stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader

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dollfacefantasy · 10 months ago

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would you write a threesome w leon and chris… because… like maybe leon is your (older,,, like death island) boyfriend and he introduces you to his friend chris!! and idk you three end up having a threesome (consensual)… and you’re embarrassed because. you’ve never done this before n you’re all clingy with leon (maybe daddy kink??) n he’s like comforting you as he and chris fuck you at the same time ?!?!?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: your boyfriend leon wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend chris.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, dacryphilia

word count: 6.6k

a/n: thank you anon for sending this idea, it's right up my alley fr. also thank you for sending it again after i fumbled the bag the first time🤭🫶. the next threesome fic will be coming soon, i just ended up having more inspo for this one lol. hope you guys like it. reblogs and comments are super appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“I’m just saying I think you both would really like it if you gave it a try,” you say, a bright smile on your face as you walk up the path to your and Leon’s shared place. Him and his friend trail behind you with equally pleased looks, the friend in question being Chris Redfield.

“No way. I did try it, and it was boring. Slow and drawn out. Also, it’s so unrealistic,” Chris says.

“Booooo. It’s not even slow. Stuff happens in like every single episode, at least in the early seasons,” you argue in an attempt to convince the pair to watch one of your favorite shows, “I just think there’s a lot you guys would like about it if you weren’t so impatient.”

“Babe, it’s got like, what? Over five seasons? I don’t have that kind of time,” your boyfriend replies.

You playfully roll your eyes and unlock the front door, stepping inside followed by the two men you were with. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go change cause this skirt is like super itchy,” you tell them.

Before you can walk away, you feel a familiar palm swat your ass. “It’s like super cute though, shows off those pretty legs,” Leon teases, his tone affectionately mocking.

You whip around to shoot him a glare, face hot with a mixture of emotions, mainly embarrassment with a pinch of arousal.

“Leon,” you whisper, giving him a look that says not in front of Chris.

He simply chuckles at your quiet protest and shakes his head with amusement, ruffling your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You catch Chris’s gaze as you turn to leave. To your surprise, he isn’t rolling his eyes or visibly wishing for the two of you to get a room. He’s smiling. His expression is different from the one you were used to seeing on Leon, but it still held the same patronizing adoration that soaked your panties in seconds.

Brushing it off as your imagination, you scamper down the hall to the bedroom. You hum to yourself as you drop your skirt and kick it into the laundry. Rifling through your drawers to find something more comfortable to wear, your hands search through some different clothes before settling on a pair of loose pink shorts. After pulling the soft garment over your legs, you look in the mirror and then decide to slip your bra off too.

Sure, some people would frown on that move, but you were in your place and it’s not like Chris is a total stranger. He was one of your boyfriends closest friends. You’d hung out with him and Leon together multiple times, and from what you gathered, he was pretty cool. It’s not like the two of you were best friends yourself. Like your boyfriend, he was quite a bit older than you. But just as you bridged that gap with Leon, so far it seemed like you managed to bridge it with him too. To say the least, he didn’t strike you as the type to have an episode over your nipples peeking through your shirt.

Unbeknownst to you however, while your thoughts lingered on the men down the hall, their conversation centered around you as well. They had taken to the couch, sitting close to each side and leaving a space for you in the middle.

“She’s a cute little thing,” Chris chuckles, watching the hallway you had gone down.

“Mhm,” Leon confirms simply. He was scrolling through the tv, trying to find that show you’d been talking about.

His friend looks over at him. “You sure she’ll wanna do this?” he asks with some uncertainty in his voice, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s had a whole lot of experience with this type of thing.”

“Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” he reassures, “You just gotta let me ease her into it.”

Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he cuts himself short once he hears your footsteps approaching. You bound back into the room. Your eyes catch on the way they’re sitting, closer than you would expect. They still left room for you though, so what does it matter, right?

You hop onto the couch and tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side, gently kissing his jaw as you get comfortable and curl up on the cushion. He smiles down at you and returns the affection. He pulls you closer, but your feet are still brushing Chris’s thigh with how close he is.

“We were thinking we could watch an episode of that show you were talking about, see if we really would like it,” Leon tells you.

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine, baby. Chris doesn’t feel like driving home just yet, and you know if you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.

You look over at Chris who nods. With that, Leon puts on the show. The familiar intro music plays and you watch the screen as a scene that you’d seen a million times plays out. You sink into his side, settling against his warm body. The episode plays, and you point out little things you like or remember something specific about. Both men nod and chuckle at your excited remarks.

Even though the couch and cuddling are comfy, your legs start getting a bit cramped from being curled up for an extended amount of time. You squirm around a bit, wanting to just stretch out. Chris prevented you from doing that as his bulky frame occupied the space your legs could be.

Leon smirks as he notices your restlessness. He shifts around a bit himself and leans back further into the couch. His feet rise up and land on the coffee table a few feet away, his legs stretching out in front of him. He doesn’t even have to see your face to know your eyes catch on his limbs. Their state of being outstretched only makes your need to do the same more intense. He gives Chris a quick glance.

“You uncomfortable, honey?” the larger man asks you.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. Hearing that pet name coming from anyone else but Leon left you flustered. You tried to reason that it didn’t mean anything. This was clearly another instance of you overthinking. Maybe Chris was just the type of guy who said that sort of thing? The kind that called cashiers sweetheart or darling. The kind who’d put your hand on your waist when saying excuse me. You didn’t remember him acting like this any of the other times you’d met him though. He was always polite with you, but that was about it. Maybe you just didn’t notice before?

“Um… I’m fine. Just a little cramp,” you explain.

He smiles at you, that same kind from earlier. “Well, I don't bite. You can stretch your legs out if you want to, princess,” he teases.

Princess. Ok that was definitely something. That name was reserved solely for the man whose arm was around you, and it usually came out only when he was prepping you to take his cock. You typically heard it as a coo when you were already crying out your own special name for him. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The two just went hand in hand. Honestly, you couldn’t really hear one without the other following close behind.

That’s why you get all timid and shy so easily. You were pretty sure Leon had psychologically conditioned you or something. Just a few touches in the right place, some words whispered in your ear in the perfect hushed tone, and you were a goner. Suddenly, your brain would feel soft and malleable. Urges appear within you to sit in his lap and cuddle. You’d just wanna look up at your daddy with dazed eyes and have him stick something in your mouth.

And sure, it wasn’t like you were brainwashed or something. You still possessed self control. It wasn’t like he’d pet your head and call you his baby, and you’d instantly lose yourself over it. It was just a slow slip into this side of your personality, and being around Chris didn’t exactly deter those feelings from coming out either because just look at him. He looked like he was meant to be called daddy. Whenever Leon would tease you in front of him, it felt like you soaked your panties even quicker than normal.

You're snapped out of your analysis of this moment when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your ankle. He pulls your leg out, and in-turn, drags you closer. A soft squeak escapes you as your body slides down Leon’s. Your back is still resting against his side, just lower. More of you is spread across the sofa, and your calves were fully in Chris’s lap.

You look up at your boyfriend to see his response to his friend’s action, but he didn’t even seem interested. He barely spared you a second glance in your new position, simply adjusting his arm to accommodate the new location of your head. He wraps it below your jaw and has you rest your chin on the bend of his elbow. His fingers start rubbing soothing, little circles on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Chris’s large palms merely rest on your legs. He gives you a smile before turning his eyes back to the tv screen. You quickly follow suit. If he wasn’t thinking this was weird, you weren’t going to make it weird by dwelling on it.

For a while, it’s fine. The three of you continue watching the show, albeit a little more quiet than before. Leon’s hand remains on your shoulder and keeps up his light touches. Your body relaxes again though as you let go of any nervousness you had. But then, Chris starts moving his hand too.

His palm smooths out over your lower leg. His other hand rubs your ankle, his fingertips coasting over the joint. One is moving in long strokes while the other stays in tight circles, but both go at a sensual pace, slow and teasing.

Your head turns to look at him again, but you find his stare is still on the characters of the tv show. You watch his hands move. They’re now essentially massaging your legs. His hand that had been lower has risen and works on the muscles, digging his warm digits into the flesh.

You squirm a little, trying to alert your boyfriend that his friend was touching you in a way that seemed more than friendly. It doesn’t work though. If he does see, he doesn’t mind because he simply leans down and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head before reverting to his same position. You almost felt crazy for a second. This wasn’t normal, was it? Had you just lived your life not knowing that it was a regular thing for a boyfriend’s friend to give you a massage like this? Was Leon ok with it cause he was there so it couldn’t go too far? You really had no clue.

If you were being honest though, Chris’s hands didn’t feel bad. Not at all. They felt really good. They were big and warm and moved with strategy. They hit all your sweet spots. Kinda made you wanna crawl into his lap so he could rub more of your body, but that was the problem. This wasn’t right. You felt that saccharine heat creeping up your spine and seeping into your head, but you shouldn’t be feeling that for anyone else besides the man behind you.

Now guilt casts a shadow over you too, and the pair of emotions was a volatile mix. You didn’t even realize it, but your nipples had started to stiffen. Your thighs shift against each other, and had you really been paying attention, you would have seen the way Chris’s lips slightly quirked up into a smirk. Your body gets a little tense as you run through the possibilities of what you should do in this situation.

As if Leon could sense your thoughts racing, his hand lowers and starts rubbing your arm. Deciding to remain where you are for now, you press your cheek against his bicep for comfort. Not that you could see, but just like Chris, his expression grows smug. His hand readjusts again so it’s closer to your chest. Your eyes widen as he basically starts feeling you up. His hand squeezes your breast before his fingers circle your nipple, gently tweaking the hardened bud.

At the same time, the hands on your legs start moving higher. The broad strokes begin meeting your thighs too. Little bumps of anticipation erupt across your skin. You already knew your center would soon be slick.

Your head feels hot now. It made you feel a weird kind of dizzy. Even though it was only a few hands and simple touches, it was so much. Combined with the fact that it was so unusual, you started feeling overwhelmed. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your hands feel tingly. You feel a whimper rising in your throat. When he finally glides his hands up to the hem of your shorts, your legs jerk and you scoot back.

By the time Chris looks over, you’re already in Leon’s lap, arms around him, face buried against his neck. He’s worried for a second that something was seriously wrong. Profuse apologies rush to the tip of his tongue, but Leon signals him to just wait.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, a hand sliding beneath your shirt to rub your back. Of course, he knew the answer already. He knew exactly how you got with this kind of stuff which is why he knew exactly how to handle it.

You end up simply shaking your head, unable to articulate the exact reason for your distress. Because really, nothing was wrong. Everything felt right. But it shouldn’t feel right? Maybe that’s what was wrong. That’s too much for your mouth to get out while you feel like this though.

“Aw, is my pretty girl feeling shy?” he whispers and strokes your hair.

You nod, pulling back a little to reveal your face and look up at the familiar set of eyes you found so much comfort in. He gives you a small kiss of reassurance before continuing to coax you with his low and soothing tone.

“Oh sweetheart, why are you shy? You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says.

“Because…” you start softly, nervously glancing at Chris only to see him watching the entire exchange. You force your attention back to your boyfriend. “Because Chris is here.”

His chest rumbles with a low laugh. “Oh, princess. That’s not a reason. Didn’t you like how Chris was touching you? Wasn’t he making you feel good?”

“I guess…” you admit.

“See? You don’t have to be embarrassed around daddy’s friend. He only wants to play with you because you’re so cute,” he teases and lands a barrage of kisses on your cheek.

You were going to freak out about him using the d word in front of someone else, but looking over at Chris, he didn’t look at all shocked. His eyes were soft and comforting as they watched you, but you were still a little uncertain. You turn your face back into Leon. He keeps rubbing your back and holds you a little closer on his lap.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. I just think you’d have a lot of fun,” Leon says softly, “You know how wet that pretty pussy gets thinking about someone else watching you with daddy, joining in because he just can’t resist a good girl like you.”

He was right. He knew your fantasies like the exact situation playing out in your living room right now. But it was scarier when it was real. You didn’t have the control anymore. That's what made it exciting too though.

“It’s just Chris, honey,” he continues reassuring you, “He’d never hurt you. He thinks you're as precious as I do. But even still, daddy’s gonna be here the whole time. You know I’d never let anything hurt my girl.”

You soften up more, relaxing under Leon’s touch and tender words. As you’re thinking it over, leaning towards going through with this, Chris scoots closer to the two of you on the couch. He tentatively places his hand on your leg and caresses your skin.

“It’s up to you, babydoll,” he says, “I only wanna help your daddy make you feel good.”

Oh god. He was a natural at this, talked down to you just the way you liked.

“See, princess? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Leon says. He strokes some of your hair back and watches as you look at the other man, deciding whether to let him in or not. He chuckles in your ear. “He’s acting cool, but you don’t know how bad he’s been wanting a turn with you. I’m sure you’ve seen him staring. Sometimes I think he’s practically drooling watching you. You know he goes home and strokes his dick raw, wishing it was your pretty little hands instead.”

It’s obvious there’s some truth to Leon’s statement from the way Chris remains silent. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you mull it over. Why was it so bad? You wanted it and they both wanted it. Why should you stop yourself?

You look up at your boyfriend and nod, silently communicating that you wanted this. He smiles and shifts you in his lap so that you’re in a more accessible position. One hand rubs your inner thighs while his other arm stays wrapped around your body to hold you close.

Upon seeing your confirmation, Chris comes even closer. As he gets situated, Leon leans in and connects his lips with yours in a few soft kisses. Your noses brush and breathing deepens. He strokes your cheek before pulling away and looking in your eyes.

“Why don’t you try that with Chris, baby? Give him some of those kisses he’s been dreaming about,” he breathes.

Your focus shifts to the man sitting to your boyfriend’s right. Eyes casting down, you bring your head forward, and Chris closes the gap. Your breath hitches when you feel the unfamiliar lips meet your own. They’re noticeably different from the pair you were used to, but it wasn’t a bad different.

You move your lips with his, shuddering a little when you feel him grunt. He struggles not to take more than what you give. Leon watches on with a grin, stroking your hair and making sure it was out of your face. Your hand maintains an iron grip on him the entire time.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear.

All three of you had long stopped paying attention to the tv, so Leon shuts it off. He then leans in to suck little love bites onto your throat. You whine into your kisses with his friend. The sound causes you to open your mouth, allowing Chris to slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan and reciprocate the advance. His smiles against your lips as his hand glides up and gropes at one of your breasts, drawing another whimper from you.

Several hickeys later, Leon removes his mouth from your neck to admire his work. His fingers drag over the wet, darkened skin. He licks one more stripe over the area before leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re slightly out of breath, eyes dilated, and lips a bit puffy.

“Aw, look at that face,” Leon teases, talking more to Chris than you, “She loves her kisses. Sometimes I think she likes it more than the actual fucking.”

“I could tell. All those sweet sounds she was making,” Chris chuckles. His chest rises and falls in a pattern similar to yours.

“Oh yeah, so sensitive, my baby,” Leon coos, “You wanna go sit in Chris’s lap and give him some more kisses?”

You shake your head and tighten your grip on his hand. They both smile at your timid display.

“My mistake. You just gotta give her some time to adjust. She’s not used to anyone but daddy. Isn’t that right?” Leon jokes.

You nod and snake your arms around him, hiding your face against his chest again. He couldn’t get enough of how clingy you became when you felt like this.

“No, no. No more being shy. C’mon, his lips still have your spit on ‘em. There’s no reason for you to hide,” he teases you and guides your head back up to see your eyes, “You still wanna do this, don’t you?”

You nod again, looking up at him with those loving eyes.

“That’s what I thought, so how about this?” he starts. He gets your arms to unlock from their position around him and tucks his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “How about we show daddy’s friend more of this precious body, yeah?”

You lift your arms and allow him to tug the fabric up and over your head. Your breasts spring free, but his hands are immediately there to cup them, knead the flesh, and tease your nipples. From his place next to the two of you, Chris’s eyes drop to the swell of your chest.

“You’re even prettier than Leon told me, baby,” he coos before leaning in, giving you one more kiss and then trailing his lips down the side of your throat. They glide over the warm skin and across the expanse of your chest.

Your boyfriend’s hands drop from your breasts, letting Chris’s take their place. You shift and lean back so your back is pressed to Leon’s chest, giving the other man more access. He fondles them before latching his mouth onto a nipple, his tongue swirling around the little peak. A little sigh escapes your lips to the pleasure of both men.

“I think she likes that, Chris,” Leon croons, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.

Chris sucks on the pebbled nub a bit more before alternating to the other one. He spends less time over there before just kissing all over your chest.

“Got such pretty tits,” he grunts, laving a tongue across your skin.

Your face heats up at the compliment, and of course, Leon knew without even having to look. He could tell by the slight way you squirmed your hips on his lap.

“Aw, princess. You like when daddy’s friend calls you pretty?” he coos. Once he sees your little nod, he continues. “How about you let him pull down your shorts and see how cute your cunt is next.”

You agree to this with no hesitation, trying to elevate your hips so he could remove your clothing. Chris smirks at your overt desire. In a quick move, he scoots back and pulls by your hips so that you’re laying across the couch again. Your head is on Leon’s thigh so you can look up at him while your fingers remain tightly interlaced with his.

The larger man peels your shorts off and then your panties. He gazes upon your dripping cunt. His thumb drags up and down through your slick in an exploratory touch.

“Oh, honey,” he breathes, circling your clit. His hand moves down again before he slides two fingers into your hole. “You’re gonna take our cocks so well. Pussy this pretty is made for that.”

You suck in a gasp that turns into a long whine as his digits fill you up. His fingers were nice and thick, filling you up just right. Your eyes flutter, and your head presses against Leon’s thigh. Chris starts pumping them in and out, stroking your inner walls.

“That’s right, baby,” Leon reassures you, “He’s gonna open you up, and you’re gonna feel so good.”

A breathy whimper falls from your lips. Your hips rock a little, but Chris allows it, enjoying your enthusiasm as you become more comfortable. You feel his fingers curling within you in motions that drive you wild and have your hands grabbing at the edges of the couch cushion beneath you.

“There you go, sweet baby. Am I doing it right?” Chris asks teasingly. With your frantic nod, he works a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back and you choke out a moan.

Leon smiles down at you and strokes your hair. His bulge grows harder, watching you get so wound up for his friend.

“Make sure you rub her pretty little clit, Chris. She loves that,” he says, “Might be a little sore since she likes to play with it so much.”

Chris grins at that, taking his turn to tease you now. “Is that right? You like playing dirty, princess? I bet you can’t help it. Cute girls like you get needy so easy. Can’t think without making yourself cum every few hours, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

“I’ll be gentle then. Think your sweet spot just needs some special kisses,” he coos.

He bends down so his mouth can be level with your cunt, a bit of a challenge with his size, but he manages. His lips meet your clit and give you some soft kisses. A little flick of the tongue and the light movement of his flesh against your sensitive bundle of nerves has your walls fluttering around him, little mewls escaping your lips.

Then, with a harsh suck to your clit, he works a fourth finger inside you. Your legs kick a little, but he simply slides them to rest on his shoulders. Every little twitch next to his head has more of his blood rushing south. Your hips buck too as you adjust to the minor stretch.

“You’re daddy’s perfect girl, you know that right? Girl of my fuckin’ dreams. Doing so good for me right now,” your boyfriend says from above you. His eyes watch on fondly as Chris slides basically his entire hand in and out of you. “Think you can cum for Chris, baby? Gush all over his fingers so it’s nice and easy for him and daddy to fill you up?”

You nod quickly.

Chris sucks harder on your clit and flicks his tongue against you with more fervor. His hand finds a rhythm that you seemed to like, had you twitching more than before. He could hear your voice rising to a higher pitch.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make your daddy proud,” he murmurs against your folds.

You really don’t know what it was, but that phrase does you in. You turn your face against Leon’s hip, dig your fingers into his palm, and erupt into a frenzy of whining and bucking your hips.

Chris continues his efforts, relishing the sensation of your slick coating his fingers and palm. His lips gradually loosen on your swollen bud. He gives it a few more licks before sitting up and gazing down at your blissed out body.

They both give you a second to rest before Leon sits you up on the couch. He gives you a quick kiss and looks into your eyes, hazy from release.

“Think you’re ready for daddy and Chris to fuck you?” he coos and rubs your cheek.

“Mhm,” you hum, returning his loving stare.

“Of course you are. My sweet girl,” he says.

The two men don’t waste time undressing themselves. Clothing piles up on the ground as they match your nudity. Both of them stand as they undo their belts and drop their pants. You’d seen Leon’s dick a hundred times by now. You watch him pull it out and give it a few strokes. The tip flushes bright red like always, a couple familiar veins span up the side. You turn your attention to Chris, looking upon a sight you hadn’t seen before.

You’re snapped out of your post-orgasm stupor when you catch a glimpse of the appendage hanging between Chris’s legs. Just like every other part of him, it’s noticeably thick. The length was good too, sure, but it wasn’t the main attraction. His cock didn’t get as red as Leon’s, but it still had the veins. He even had a few beads of white, sticky precum leaking from the head.

“Oh, you like what you see, baby?” Leon teases when he notices your wonder, “I’m sure Chris would be happy to let you suck on it next time.”

“Daddy, it’s not gonna fit,” you say, looking up at him and ignoring the tempting idea of giving Chris a blowjob.

He smiles down at you, simultaneously condescending and affectionate. “Of course it will. C’mere, princess,” he says.

In no time at all, Leon’s back on the couch, guiding you on top of him. You crawl to meet the place he’s directing you. Lowering yourself against him, your front rests against his and your head lies near the crook of his neck. The warmth of his body comforts you but not enough to push out your concerns completely.

“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you nice and comfy on daddy’s cock, and then Chris will just slide right in,” he reassures you, “You’re gonna feel so good. You just let me take care of everything.”

His arm had already slithered beneath your hip to line up his shaft with your entrance. He runs the tip through your soaked folds then pushes in. A whiny moan escapes you, and your arms wrap tighter around him. The feeling wasn’t a new one, but it still felt so good. He works himself in and out slowly, hips rocking off the couch in small thrusts.

“That’s my girl, taking it just like you’re meant to. I’ve got you trained so well,” he murmurs against your hair.

The entire time, you feel Chris’s eyes on you. His pupils fixated on the sight of Leon pumping in and out of your gushing cunt. You hear him spit down onto his hand and know he’s started to stroke himself in anticipation. Other than that, he stays quiet, locked onto you sucking up every inch of your boyfriend's cock.

Leon continues gliding in and out. You feel the muscles in his chest and neck straining with the pleasure your pulsing walls give him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Chris did a good job with you,” he groans. His breaths become ragged as he staves off true euphoria. This couldn’t end too quickly. “You know, babydoll, I don’t think you said thank you to Chris for making you feel so good. That’s not very nice.”

You whimper as your brain registers the implication of his words. At the moment, you were more focused on rolling your hips with Leon’s, but you force some words out of your mouth cause you’re a good girl after all.

“Sorry daddy,” you say, cut off by a whine as he pokes a sensitive spot, “T-thank you, Chris.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he responds. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, but you don’t have the chance to linger on it since you feel his broad palm land on the small of your back. His fingers rub the skin gently, as if to keep you calm while he positions himself on his knees behind you. You whine again and cling harder to Leon.

“You can say thank you better than that, baby,” he teases, trying to keep any fear away from you. He presses a kiss to your temple as well and rubs your back, “What are you thanking him for?”

“Thank you for making me cum, Chris. Your fingers and kisses felt so good,” you whimper, adding on the last bit before Leon could correct you further.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he repeats with excessive adoration, “You deserve it for being such a good girl. Besides, that pussy was so fucking sweet, makes me want another taste.”

You squeeze around Leon and bite your lip as your lower belly erupts with butterflies. And then you feel it. You feel the hot tip of Chris’s heavy cock nudging at your entrance above Leon’s. You tense and dig your fingers into the flesh of his back.

“Just relax, baby. You’re gonna be just fine. Daddy’s right here,” he coos and holds you tighter against his chest.

“You ready?” Chris asks softly.

You squeeze your eyes shut but nod, waiting to feel the stretch.

And it comes right away. You gasp as another cock enters you. Whining, your hands scramble to grab at something. Leon takes one and squeezes it lovingly, pausing his thrusts. You bury your face against his skin, your chest erratically puffing as you try to accommodate the sizes. Both men are groaning, eyes fluttering or rolled back, muscles flexing as they take in the tight, wet heat engulfing them.

“Doing so good, pretty girl, so good,” Leon mutters.

You can’t fathom any kind of response. The burning sensation of both of them was still so intense and from what you could tell, Chris wasn’t even all the way in yet. He was still pushing forward as far as he could. At a certain point, you can’t fight off the tears pricking at your waterline. Your free hand clamps over your mouth as a choked cry tumbles out.

“So fucking tight, I could cum right now,” Chris grunts.

Leon’s hand covers your right hip, tracing tiny soothing circles over your skin. Chris occupies your left, digging his fingers into the flesh. The subtle difference between the two sides drives you further into the throes of ecstasy.

When Chris manages to bully his cock nearly all the way inside you, as deep as it could go at least, Leon feels your hot tears sliding off your cheeks and pooling on his chest.

“Oh, poor baby,” he croons. He lets go of your hand for a second to swipe a few drops away, but then he takes it back. “You ok, honey? Too much for you?”

You weakly shake your head that it wasn’t too much, sniffling between whimpers. They’ve both stopped now to let you get used to the entirety of them. The site of your connection pulses with need on all three accounts. You feel Chris gripping you a little harder in an effort to keep his composure.

“My tough girl, so brave for daddy. Makin’ me so proud,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.

“So fuckin’ pretty too. You look gorgeous all filled up like this,” Chris moans from behind you.

His gaze remains on his and Leon’s cocks splitting you open. He starts rocking his hips a bit, groaning at the combined feeling of your slick walls with Leon’s length rubbing against his. Leon starts moving again too.

You let out a sound that’s between a yelp and a moan. Both of Leon’s arms snake around you to keep you engulfed in his embrace. He’s more vocal than usual, the mix of stimulation getting to him as well.

“That’s right. You keep crying for your daddy. Let me hear how much you need me. Just cry it out like the good little girl you are,” he mumbles against you.

Once you’ve become comfortable with the stretch, it starts feeling better than you’d imagined. In tandem, they’re stroking every part of you. They slide in and out, back and forth, pulling soft whines from you. The only noise apart from the three of you grunting and moaning, is the obscene noises that come from them pumping into your wet pussy. You feel your ability for coherent thoughts slipping away. You just wanted to be full of your daddy and his friend.

Chris smacks your ass while picking up his pace a bit. “Now she’s getting into it,” he says.

You get a little louder to both their enjoyment. Grabbing at Leon a little more, you shudder while hearing moans bubble up from his chest and out of his mouth.

“That’s cause you’re such a good girl. Right baby?” he asks, his voice breathier, “So good at whining for your daddy’s cock.”

You nod without a second thought. You’re panting a bit as the thrusts start hitting just right. Your expressions and the tightening of your cunt give you away. You hear both of them groaning and getting a little more primal with their movements.

“You feel that, Chris? She’s getting closer. Can always tell by the way her pussy starts trying to keep me in. So desperate for some cum,” Leon says.

“Yeah. I can feel her cute little cunt begging for it,” Chris growls.

They’re both going harder, making your mind get all fuzzy and causing more tears to fall, although by this time they’re purely tears of pleasure. Your cries are whiny and needy.

“My baby, my baby,” Leon grunts while lacing his fingers in your hair, “I want you to cum for me, ok? Wanna feel you cumming all over our cocks. Show Chris how good you make me feel every single night when you start clamping down on me.”

You don’t finish right then. It takes a handful more thrusts from each of them to hit the right buttons and work you over that edge, dropping you into a pool of euphoria. The bliss washes over you, and as Leon described, your pussy squeezes around them in waves. They’re both moaning now, grabbing you harder, sighing and gasping. You twitch on top of Leon, and he holds you close and helps you through it.

“Look at that sweet face. Always so pretty when you let go,” he mumbles just for you to hear, “Keep cumming, dolly. Want you feeling like you’re in heaven.”

Leon’s the first to blow his load, shooting it deep inside you. He pumps it in while you’re still releasing. His own hips twitch and buck while that hot, sticky liquid flows from him.

Chris takes a bit longer, savoring every last moment he has inside your precious cunt. He keeps thrusting after you’ve finished, making you squirm with the slight overstimulation. Leon hisses too, feeling the friction from his movements against his dick.

When he finally does cum, your body is overtaken with a shiver. He fucks it deep into you. His thrusts don’t weaken while he spills it inside of you. He keeps moving in powerful strokes until he’s satisfied.

After he’s truly done, Chris leans down and kisses the space between your shoulder blades. “So good, pretty baby,” he praises softly before pulling out.

It feels weird just having Leon’s dick in you. It’s your normal but so strange now too. He slides himself out next though, so there isn’t too much time to fester on that. Sitting up, he pulls you with him while covering your face in kisses.

Everyone is laid back right now, letting the post-high wear off as you all come down. You stay curled up to Leon like you always did after finishing. He rubs your back like normal, knowing your head was most likely still up in the clouds. Eventually, all of your breathing steadies and returns to a regular pace.

Your hazy eyes open and gaze over at Chris. “Thank you Chris,” you say, tone a bit dreamier than it usually is.

“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling at you.

“Look at you, so polite,” Leon teases, “By the looks of it, you’re gonna be sitting on Chris’s lap soon enough and leaving me on the sidelines.”

You shake your head and nuzzle him. All of you take a brief moment to finish the descent back to normalcy. Chris stands to pull on his pants again.

“We’ll get there one of these days,” he jokes.

“I don’t know about that. This one’s a daddy’s girl before anything else,” Leon says, before smooching your forehead.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x you #chris redfield smut #chris redfield imagine

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bluesidez · 5 months ago

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hiii love 💗 may I request a nsfw and a sfw alphabet thingy for gymrat miguel. I just need more of that man 😫😫

[Gym Rat Miguel SFW + NSFW Alphabet]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: GymRat!Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, fem!Reader

summary: Me answering questions and yapping about Gym Rat Miguel!

content warning: 18+ for the NSFW portion so MINORS DNI, most importantly THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL STORY (nothing too crazy, but some of the questions are things that haven’t happened yet + they haven’t even been together a year yet in the current story so there’s still much to discuss), lots of fluff, possibly the incorrect use of a fidget spinner?? (it's cute I swear)

word count: 9.1k, halfway proofread (sigh...)

a/n: Hi hii!! 🩵 You don’t know how happy I was to receive this request!! Any chances to talk about my Miguels outside of their actual stories are golden. 🥺 I tried to keep the responses brief so about 2+ paragraphs per question but we all know how much I like to write and yap 😭 so there's bound to be some long paragraphs. I do hope you enjoy!!! (This also gave me a chance to flesh out his character even more, which I appreciate more than you know, so truly, thank you Anon!)

I just refer to GR!Miguel as Miguel here because…we all know who I’m talking about.

A = Affection How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a really giant heart so he’s extremely affectionate especially when it comes to his girlfriend. Usually, boys are taught to kind of control their emotions, but even with those teachings/societal rules hanging over his head, he was always a sweet and kind baby growing up. His abuela especially taught him to lead with kindness.

ᰔ ᩚ He shows affection often through action. While he’s really familiar with all of the love languages, he’s quicker to do something for someone (acts of service) before he does anything else. His second most used love language has to be words of affirmation. Words and communication are a sensitive thing for him so communication is key even if he can be oblivious about it sometimes.

B = Best friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is definitely the "dad friend," or really, the "parent friend" that’s always making sure you’re ok. He knows how to parallel park and owns at least two of the ugliest ties you’ve ever seen in your life (thank you, George). He’s also EXTREMELY huggable, even in his tall and lanky days, and gives really nice advice. If you’re struggling with something, he would lay everything out and help you problem-solve. Overall, he’s just very sweet.

ᰔ ᩚ For Miguel, a friendship could start with you constantly talking to (bugging) him or being able to keep up with his nerdy hobbies. You want to hear him sort out quantum physics? He’s sold. On the other end, anyone who is nice to him and treats him like a human has a fair game of becoming his friend.

C = Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ᰔ ᩚ Does he? He craves it! He will literally stop what he’s doing to find you just to cuddle. It’s like a way to regain his energy if you're in his arms. At the same time, he’s very comfortable despite all that hard muscle. At home, he usually wears soft sweaters and joggers so he is indeed like a giant teddy bear. The older he gets, the more his body gains a nice balance between fat and muscle so it’s just really comfortable all around.

ᰔ ᩚ When he cuddles, he’ll usually shove his face in some plush part of you. He definitely loves laying on your chest which he lovingly calls his pillows or your stomach or your lap. He’s really clingy. If you’re out and about, he'll cuddle you from behind with his chin on your head or keep an arm wrapped around your hips. When you ask for a cuddle, he’ll gladly hold you on top of him and probably fall asleep.

D = Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

ᰔ ᩚ He wouldn’t mind settling down, but it depends more on how you feel rather than him. He’s heard many stories from his mother, Abuela, and tías about how hard childbirth is so he’s very wary of that pain being inflicted on you. His mother has told him multiple times about how giant he was when he was born so he’s scared that whatever baby he could give you might also be huge. After he learned of Tyler, Conchata told him that she wanted to cuss Tyler out, but all she had was George in the delivery room so he suffered her wrath not once, but twice.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has fantasized about you with his babies, but to his shame, it was more about the process of giving you his kids rather than having them run around. He has to admit, he would love to see chunky babies with a mix of you guys’ best qualities. One family reunion with you taking care of your baby cousins might put him in a spiral. He’s sure that you’ll be a great mama and he’s confident that he’ll be the best father. If that doesn’t work out, he’s aiming for tío of the year for the many nephews and nieces his brother is sure to have.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of domestic qualities, he’s spent so much time with his abuela that he knows more dishes than his mom. He’s also had times when his mom got sick of constantly cooking for him, so he’ll be up at the crack of dawn fixing his own meals. His cleaning could use a lot of work. He knows the basics, but his family always fusses at him to do more than that. In front of you? He becomes a new person. All of a sudden, he remembers the ways his mother fussed at him to clean the house.

E = Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

ᰔ ᩚ Even though emotionally he’s extremely mature, he’d probably be a wreck when it comes to breaking up with you. He loves very deeply and separating from you has a high chance of sending him to the ER. If he doesn’t pass out while breaking up, he’d definitely be extremely sick afterwards.

ᰔ ᩚ If he had to break up with you, he’d do it face to face because anything else is an insult to you. It’ll be somewhere public enough that you’re free to walk away from, but private enough to where no one will be like “wtf is up with those two?” He'll write out what he wants to say a thousand times over and have his desk littered with notebook paper. In his ‘speech’ he’ll praise you heavily but say something along the lines of “even though you are my sun, I can’t continue to drain your light.” Just VERY dramatic and heartfelt. He’d probably be sick enough to puke after watching you go.

[Good thing this will NEVER HAPPEN. Even I, the angst lover, can not take that torture.]

F = Fiance(e) How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is fully committed to you even without the ring. He is quite the planner, so as soon as he reaches the end of undergrad, he’s already planning out his proposal. Of course, he’s asked you how you feel about marriage and has peeked over your shoulder at your Pinterest boards so he has an idea of what you would like. However, he’s truly a romantic, so he’s pulling out all of the stops.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t feel the need to get married right away because you both have huge futures to explore, but damn it, he wants people to know that you’re taken, so maybe he’ll buy you a promise ring. He’s willing to wait until you both have stable jobs before making the huge step to marriage, but he fights the urge to propose to you constantly. He also spoils you like crazy and he wants to earn the money for your rings rather than asking his family for help.

G = Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is the definition of a Gentle Giant. Really, it’s something that first grew from his mom always fussing at him to be a big boy so as to not make Gabriel upset, but his Grandma has always been so kind to him because she felt that Conchata treated him differently than Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ Physically, he’s always extra aware of his surroundings because now, not only is he tall, but he’s also wide. There’s a new strength to him that he learned to control after roughhousing with Gabriel got a little too rough, ending in a fractured wrist bone. Miguel was crying more than Gabriel on the way to the hospital. He ended up helping him in saxophone practice for weeks. For you, you’re like his personal weighted plushie. He’s not going to be too rough, just firm squeezes every now and then.

ᰔ ᩚ Emotionally, he’s always careful of what he says to others. It takes A LOT for him to yell or blow a fuse. He knows how much words can hurt so he never wants what he says to be the reason that someone is hurt. He cries at the drop of a hat. He’s gotten better at not crying so easily, but he definitely can’t see people he cares about cry. That night that you sobbed in his arms, he cried a little with you then and a lot while you were in the shower. When you first got together, he feared that his tears might be the breaking point for you but every time he cries in front of you, you’re there to wipe them away.

He’s definitely crying on your wedding day.

H = Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

ᰔ ᩚ He loves hugs, but he’s certain that his family is sick of his hugs. Just like how big dogs don’t realize how big they are when curling up somewhere, he is very similar when he goes to hug his closest family. His Abuela will often fuss about how he’s just a big baby and Gabriel sets a three-minute time limit, claiming that he’s going to transfer his body heat if he hugs past that. His dad is not really known for hugging and his mom gets irritated too fast. You are the only one who can stand his hugs that feel like they last a lifetime.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s hugs feel like really warm firm clouds. His waist is itty bitty so your arms can completely go around it but if you put your hands in other areas, he’s bound to start borderline purring. You’re a lot softer than him so he craves seeking you out for hugs. He likes to give them for any occasion: when you’re about to part, when you see each other for the first time in a while, when you finish a set, when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re out shopping and are indecisive about which color of a product you should buy, when you’re taking too long in the art store, when you’re fresh out the shower, etc. He’s just a cuddle bug read: clingy boyfriend.

I = I love you How fast do they say the L-word?

ᰔ ᩚ [According to the story] Miguel calls you his love over the phone during Thanksgiving break which is about four months after knowing you and about three months into dating. He calls you his darling by the time the New Year comes around, he also won over your mom a little after Valentine’s, and he admits to himself that he’s falling in love by the time the spring semester has ended.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t say he loves you out loud until the dinner party after everyone pisses him off which is roughly seven months into dating. However, all of his actions from the handwritten cards to the handmade crafts to the thoughtful gifts to the sweet words have all been signs of his growing love for you. Quite frankly, he would have told you he loved you sooner if he didn’t want to freak you out and he tells you so the night his mother demeans you.

J = Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

ᰔ ᩚ You haven’t seen the extent of how jealous Miguel can get, truly, you just know of the couple of times he’s almost knocked people out or been completely rude to the people he’s thought were trying to lead you on when he was standing right there. He has shocked himself with how green he gets but it doesn’t stop him from feeling that way. When he gets jealous, he’ll find little ways to show others that you’re his such as PDA, lingering a bit too close to you, glaring directly at others whose eyes are planted on you for far too long, or getting really mean towards people who make advances.

ᰔ ᩚ Oddly enough, he’s never aware of the things that he does that attracts others because he’s so busy trying to be cordial that it may come off as flirty. It’s very hard for him to push people off him because that’s never really happened to him until he started bulking up and again, he doesn’t want to hurt people that haven’t hurt him.

K = Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s kisses are consuming and soft, warm and inviting. He gives you his full attention and pours his entire heart into it. The feeling of him against you only really leaves you wanting more, so you have to snap out of it and tell yourself to regain control. He could probably spend an entire day just in your face making out without ever going further, but he might need frequent trips to the bathroom to calm himself down.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes to kiss you on your lips mostly but his other favorite places to kiss you are your stomach, your collarbones, and your thighs. He has to limit himself from leaving marks all over your skin because he’s keen to do it if you don’t stop him. He also likes to be kissed on the lips and he especially loves it when he doesn’t expect them. Surprise kisses have him on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. He really loves it when you won’t bother to reach up to him or lean him down and you settle on kissing him in the middle of his chest. It feels like your lips warm up his heartbeat. Lastly, he feels ignited when you leave kisses on his back, especially the back of his neck. To him, it’s like a promise for more or a way to ignite him. Start kissing his back and he’s not letting you leave him for at least 20 minutes.

L = Little ones How are they around children?

ᰔ ᩚ Kids use him like a jungle gym. He is a fan favorite amongst his baby cousins who are always asking to be thrown in the air. He would think some babies would be afraid of him, but once they’re in his arms, they’re either really excited about how high off the ground they are or they’ll fall asleep instantly in his arms.

ᰔ ᩚ He’ll often tire the babies and kiddos out and his family will find him in a pile with him as the pillow to little heads.

ᰔ ᩚ Another key thing is that he won’t use baby voices with babies, but rather he’ll talk to them like normal human beings. It’s very useful when he has to break up fights between his baby cousins who often argue over who gets to play with him first.

M = Morning How are mornings spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Mornings with Miguel are more like Miguel going to do his workout while you sleep. You’re not really a morning person, so you’re a bit drowsy whenever he kisses you all over your face before he leaves. He always chuckles at your sleepy state and urges himself to not get distracted, but more often than not, he wants to stay with you. Some mornings, he’ll get right back in the bed with you after his shower and kiss you until you wake up.

ᰔ ᩚ On the mornings that you do go with him to the gym, it’s mostly him talking with you humming along one-word answers until you’re actually fighting for your life in the gym. Afterwards, he always takes you to go get breakfast whether that’s a smoothie or him making you something.

N = Night How are nights spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Nights with Miguel are very loving! If you let him, he’d do everything from shower with you to brushing teeth together to skincare to hair care and so on. Being that both introverts and creatives often work/operate better at night, sometimes you both are up at all times of night doing anything. You could be drawing on your iPad while he’s up playing games with your feet in his lap.

ᰔ ᩚ Sometimes this is also when he lets his most intimate thoughts slip out. With his head on your chest and your nails scratching against his scalp, he’s in his most vulnerable state.

O = Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than revealing things about himself, all of his drama just happens to unfold for him. The way he brought up Tyler Stone, the super famous tech CEO, being his father just happened to be the time when you were doing something extremely serious.

ᰔ ᩚ He can tell you things and open up about his past, but you never really grasp how serious it is until it appears before your eyes. His turmoil with Kron was 4+ years in the making and the first time you met Kron just so happened to be the time Miguel connected his fist to his face. His relationship with his mom is something that’s been an uphill battle and you haven’t really seen how bad it can get, but you’ve felt how cruel she could be. Tyler's yearning for a relationship with his youngest son is something you see happening in real-time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is as open as he can be, but nothing ever really prepares you for the real deal.

P = Patience How easily angered are they?

ᰔ ᩚ It takes a lot to push Miguel’s buttons because he often lets things pile up and boil over. He’s not easily pushed to true anger until someone hurts the people he loves. One time, Gabriel kept coming home crying but he wouldn’t tell Miguel who was hurting him. Once Miguel found out, he ripped the kid a new one which led to Conchatta grounding him for a week. His Abuela was proud of him for standing up for his brother and Gabriel snuck him sweets when he thought their parents weren’t looking.

ᰔ ᩚ He really wanted to say more to his mother that night she hurt you, but Kron took most of the brunt of that anger which helped him level out a more reasonable response to his mother. He doesn’t like seeing you hurt especially over things that he finds to be beautiful about you.

Q = Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been taking in details about you ever since he first saw you in his Biology class. It was almost as if he was studying you. He knows your favorites, he remembers your friends, he listens to you constantly, and stores things for later. He even begins to know the subtle habits that you have.

ᰔ ᩚ The only things that tend to go over his head are when you mention really advanced art techniques. As much as he tries, it never really sticks. He also conveniently forgets how often he asks for cuddles.

R = Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a bank of lovely memories about you stored in his mind (and many more to come 😗). One of his favorite memories was when you went out of your way to make sure that those sorority girls got suspended. He often lets bad things happen to him until he can't control it, but you immediately caught the situation and nipped it in the bud right away. He’s never really had anyone do anything to that extent for him as fast as you did and even though he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with you before, from that moment he knew that you were special.

ᰔ ᩚ Another memory is the last-minute birthday present that you got for him. It was so thoughtful and sweet and he’s constantly using it. The two of you were only at the sproutings of a relationship so to make such an impactful gift meant a lot.

S = Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s extremely protective. This means little things from making sure that he’s the one walking closer to the street and watching your drink while you’re dancing to big things like intervening when men don’t catch the hint to roughing up men that don’t respect your boundaries. He’s willing to use his brute strength in order to make sure no harm comes to you but he hopes it never has to get to that point. He’d rather use his strength to carry you in his arms.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel doesn’t really feel the need to be protected but when you go out of your way to protect him, he can’t help but think that it feels nice. Like, look at my girlfriend going out of her way to make sure that I’m alright, to make sure that I know that I deserve to be protected too. There’s really no other feeling like it to him.

T = Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel goes through so much effort for anything that involves you. He tends to go a little stir-crazy when planning. He marks up his calendar, sets appointments, makes calls, pulls certain strings: anything he can do to see a smile on your face. He remembers so many details about you just so he can pull together the perfect gift. With Tyler trying to get on his good side, he may or may not have asked him to help him out with things that are on the expensive side.

ᰔ ᩚ However, there are things he does that does not involve so much money. Your cafe dates, your study dates in the library, your handmade gifts, and your nights riding around in his Range Rover getting late-night food. If you’re sick, he’ll bring you tea and make you soup. He’s there when you’re cramping, soft hoodie on and heating pad in hand. He waits for you after your art classes, ready to carry your portfolio across campus. He takes your glasses off when you fall asleep with them on and soaks your oil brushes when you’re in a rush. He cares about you deeply.

ᰔ ᩚ Your one-year anniversary is soon…what does Miguel have planned? 🤔

U = Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a nasty habit of overthinking. He often thinks too much for his own good, which is why exercising is so close to him as it forces him to focus on his form and his sets rather than the running hamster wheel of words in his mind. His overthinking could lead to imposter syndrome which in turn causes him to question whether or not he deserves the nice things he has, whether or not he deserves to be with you. With the big reveal of the man he’s known all of his life not actually being his dad, it really only dug a deeper hole into the habit he’s had ever since his mom’s different treatment of him versus Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ On the other end of the spectrum, he can be a bit of a perfectionist which can lead to stubbornness. Conchata has berated him all of his life, so at first, he felt the need to appeal to her good side as her son. The older he got, the more this turned into battles of proving her wrong. No, he wasn’t a bad influence on Gabriel. Yes, he could get all A’s and stay up playing video games. No, he wasn’t afraid to end up alone. Yes, he would try to go to some far-off college.

ᰔ ᩚ His relationship with his mother is far from fixed, and there's no telling how these habits are to continue to affect his other relationships.

V = Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

ᰔ ᩚ At first, Miguel would just own a few nice looks here and there. He’d only really care about the quality of his graphic tees, the softness of his sweaters, and trying to avoid high-water pants. Between his parents and his grandma, a lot of the clothes he got made him resemble a lanky old man. It wasn’t until he started to bulk up that his wardrobe took a change. His old tees could barely fit over his arms and the bigger ones got turned into crop tops to chill out in. His sweaters went to Gabriel who threw them in the deepest pits of his closet.

ᰔ ᩚ Gabriel ended up styling him at one point which resulted in a lot of extra basketball shorts and god-awful t-shirt hoodies. If it weren’t for Dana and his older cousins telling him that he looked like an extra off of Jersey Shore, he would have never changed. He quietly asked Tyler for some kind of stylist which in turn helped him to find more clothes that fit his new body type.

ᰔ ᩚ When you come around, you expand his style even more with your eye for detail and your insistence on having coordinating outfits. You know what looks good on him and with the way your eyes trail his body, he for sure knows what you think is hot.

W = Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

ᰔ ᩚ Absolutely. 1000%. (More of this will play out a bit in Part 10…)

ᰔ ᩚ Obviously, in any Honeymoon stage of a relationship, the couple can feel extremely lonely without their other half. Miguel is an absolute yearner. He hates parting ways no matter how at ease he feels by himself. He never really thought of himself as someone who needs a partner, but now that he has you, he’s trying to juggle between knowing when to give you space and knowing when to impede your space. He feels a lot lighter when you’re around, a lot freer. Tackling college felt so foreign to him, but with you, he feels like he can conquer anything.

ᰔ ᩚ If you were to ever leave this world before him, there would already be enough bits and pieces of you left to fill the half of his missing heart. The only thing is, he would miss your presence dearly and that radiant smile of yours. In his dreams would be the only place where he could feel whole again. X = Xtra A random headcanon for them.

I have three

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves PDA, but sometimes, you’re still a bit shy about it, so you found a compromise: a fidget ring. When he wants to love on you so bad that he can’t stand it, but you’re hyper-aware of the people around you, he’ll take your hand and just start spinning the ring. It’s your sign that he’s craving your touch. It doubles as a distraction when you’re in crowded spaces and his energy levels are low. You can tell when he’s ready to leave an event with the way he’s fidgeting with the ring. A slower tempo means he wants to exit a conversation, a faster tempo could mean he’s overwhelmed or nervous, and moving the entire ring around means he’s ready to go. It’s an effective system for communication between the two of you.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves, loves, LOVES girly pop music. It gives him so much energy during his workouts and what’s better is that they’re really catchy. He hasn’t gone out of his way to watch any of the music videos or learn the dances, but take him to a concert, and he’s bound to know the words. He also has a high chance of being put on the Jumbotron or being called up on stage which could lead to intense screams from others and an awkward dance from him. Gabriel has a stan account that he refuses to show his brother’s face on because he knows it’s bound to be his most popular post.

ᰔ ᩚ Even though he’s extremely book smart and intelligent, when it comes to you, the Himbo gene activates. One compliment from you, no matter how small it is, could have him grinning like a fool all day. Whatever it is you complimented him on will be brought to the forefront constantly. He’ll buy a horrid amount of cologne just because you said you liked the way he smelled that day. He’ll take pictures of himself at the same angle because you thought one photo of him was good enough to put as your phone background. He’ll get worked up with one touch in public from you, especially if you haven’t touched him all day that day. He might even do something that you mentioned off-handedly from a TikTok or a tweet like buy a t-shirt with your face on it or have the lights on his Range Rover doors reflect your name. Sometimes you have to tell him to cool it, but if you praise him for it, he’s going to keep doing it.

Y = Yuck What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

ᰔ ᩚ In general, Miguel doesn’t like when people aren’t direct. He’s not a mind reader so he prefers when people say exactly how they feel rather than beat around the bush. People have done that far too much with him so he gets irritated when he’s put in a situation where the other party is not being upfront with him. He also hates when people are bullies for no reason. He’s not here to figure out why someone is taking out their insecurities on others but he will put them in their place.

ᰔ ᩚ He also severely hates when people interrupt his sets. If you see he’s using the machine and he’s in the zone, why are you bothering him? He likes to think that he gives off the energy of a determined Gym Bro but in reality, he just looks really hot racking up those weights. Either way, don’t fuck up his set.

ᰔ ᩚ In a partner, he wouldn’t want someone that disrespects his family. He knows it’s a little dysfunctional, but his partner has to be truly dedicated to him before they even think about complaining about his family. He also tends to like his partners on the thicker side. He’s for all bodies, but he prefers when his partner has something he can feel so he honestly wouldn’t like it if his partner was too much smaller than him.

Z = Zzz What is a sleep habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel always needs to hold onto something when he sleeps. Whether that be the pillow, the comforter, or you, he needs something in his arms. It can make for a very hot bed so whenever you guys are going to sleep together or taking a nap, you make sure to have a fan right by the bed. More often than not, he’s sleeping without a shirt on.

ᰔ ᩚ One other habit is how he gets when he’s really sleepy. He gets a bit whiny and grabby with tears threatening to fall with how much he’s yawning. He’ll say things that he won’t remember the next day like how pretty you are or how much he loves you. He might talk in his sleep a bit before he’s completely out of it which makes for hilarious videos. Like this, his snores are a little louder and his face pressed against the pillow is super cute.

ᰔ ᩚ In the morning time, when he doesn’t have a workout planned, he might have a little drool from how hard he slept. If you wake up before him, he’ll squint at the light and mumble about what time it is.

[THE MAJORITY OF THIS SECTION CONTAINS THE TRUE SPOILERS]

A = Aftercare what they’re like after sex

ᰔ ᩚ During sex, he gets in a specific mindset similar to the one he has in the gym, so it might take him a minute or so to snap out of it. He’ll be so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he’ll forget that he needs to stop and make sure that you’re ok. Once he’s back focused, he’ll wipe your body clean and massage the muscles he’s sure to have stretched out. After that, he’s in dire need of cuddles and kisses.

B = Body part their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

ᰔ ᩚ Other than his face, which he agrees is pretty hot, his favorite body part of his own might be his arms. He worked hard for them! He’s always shocked looking back at old pictures of himself, seeing how he’s nearly triple the size, and wondering who that guy is. He also thinks that the Stone side has blessed him greatly with his dick. He’s always been well-endowed. When you came into his life, he found a new great appreciation for his own thighs, although he’s still battling with the thought of you wanting to be choked in them.

ᰔ ᩚ For you, what part of you doesn’t he like? He couldn’t really choose if his life depended on it because there’s so much to love. However, there’s no better feeling than the weight of your ass and thighs against his lap. If you could use him as a chair constantly, he’ll never complain. It’s the perfect position for him to feel you up and plant his face right in your cleavage. If your back is to him while you’re on his lap, then his hands are immediately on your stomach. You used to hate it at first because he would just squeeze at it or tickle you constantly, but he really loves to place his hands on the warmest parts of you, and right under your stomach happens to be one of those zones.

ᰔ ᩚ If he said he liked his forehead being pressed up against your stomach while he ate you out, you wouldn’t get mad, right?

C = Cum anything to do with cum, basically

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel hasn’t really talked about it with you but, he especially loves it when he marks you. You always look so pretty with him painted across his skin, and he has so much to give. When his dick is down your throat and you try your best to swallow all of him, he feels feverish when it spills out down your face. He can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look. When he’s fucking your thighs and it spills onto your skin he just wants to rub it in.

ᰔ ᩚ When he’s inside of you and it just won’t stop dripping out of you, it riles him up even more. You’re his and his alone.

D = Dirty secret pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

ᰔ ᩚ He does have a few! One of which is fantasizing about you riding him on the bench press bench while the other side of the gym is occupied. It’s so unlike him, and when the thought first passed his mind, he was so ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes for a day, nor use the bench press without getting lightheaded. Just the thought of you leaning over him blocking out the bright lights of the gym, sweat dripping onto him, and watching your ass hit his skin in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors was enough to get him to plan out how to build out his gym in his future home.

ᰔ ᩚ Another is the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you before you were officially together. He told you about the wet dreams, but he didn’t tell you how bad it was. He’s not sure if he’s ever produced that much cum in his life. It’s a wonder he was able to hold steady conversations with you with how head-over-heels he was. He fantasized about the sounds you would make and tried to remember how your body felt against his from the little touches you gave him. He tried to hone it down because, god, that’s creepy, but you were so radiant that you never really escaped his mind.

E = Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is what I deem as a “virgin slut.” He’s very inexperienced when it comes to love, relationships, and sex, but he knows too much by proxy. Again, he’s the parent friend that’s always giving advice, so for the most part, he knows what and what not to do. He’s heard about the things that his friends have done and he’s wondered what experiencing it would be like with you.

ᰔ ᩚ Would you like this position? Would you want to try this with him? Does he want to know what this would feel like? While he feels a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, he’s happy that you’re excited to share these new experiences with him.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of sex and foreplay, he’s learning as he goes, going with what feels good and what you react well to. He’s constantly researching, remembering, and trying out new techniques. You’re his first, and if he has any say in it, his last, so he feels that there is plenty of time to get to a more experienced level.

F = Favorite position this goes without saying

ᰔ ᩚ Any position where your breasts are in his face is a position he’s happy in. There’s nothing like watching them bounce while you ride him within an inch of his life. He wants to look at them, he wants to put his mouth on them, he wants to suck them, he wants to bite them: just put them in his face.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel also really adores any position he can hold you in. He notices how excited your body gets when he’s balancing you in his arms while pounding away. You get so wet that he’s mesmerized. The tight feeling of both you around him and your shaking hands gripping his shoulders keeps him going. He really just wants to see every ounce of your body move with him.

ᰔ ᩚ Did he tell you that he wanted you to sit on his face today or did he forget to set his reminder?

G = Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is very serious in the moment because nothing is funny about your pleasure. All the laughing and giggling will happen before he’s sinking into you. He’s very serious about watching your face and your body for anything new and familiar. Did you think something was funny before? Well, he’s making sure that you’re not laughing by the time he’s finished.

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than being goofy, he will ask you something out of left field in the middle of the moment if he feels that you two have something to work out.

H = Hair how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is not the hairiest but he also doesn’t not have hair. His friend waxed him for practice one time and he’s certain that he’ll never let her do that shit again. He keeps his face clean because he feels like growing out his facial hair makes him look scruffy, although you’d argue that he looks pretty cute.

ᰔ ᩚ His happy trail does lead like a nice present to his gift that keeps giving. He will let you trim him from time to time and help him wax when the sun is getting too hot.

I = Intimacy how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

ᰔ ᩚ He is very intimate during the moment, especially during your first few times together. He’s always reassuring you and holding you close. His eyes never really leave your face when you’re pleasuring yourself or reaching your peak. He loves to talk into your skin and your ears.

ᰔ ᩚ If he’s not grabbing onto you, he’s holding your hands and rocking into you. He’s kissing your wrists and your cheeks, wiping any tears away. Where you might not be able to speak, he’s asking yes or no questions, wiping your hair out of your face, and telling you to let go.

J = Jack off masturbation headcanon

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s sessions usually take a lot, but since gaining a roommate, he can’t go all out like he usually does. He cums a lot so he usually has to put a towel down or waits until he gets into the shower to fully let go. He prefers to use both hands whether that means lifting his hips off the bed while he jerks or holding his dick in one hand while playing with his nipple in another.

ᰔ ᩚ His sessions after you both get together were even messier, especially with you giving him new material. Voice recordings, polaroids, phone calls: all of it is being used for him to get off when you’re not near.

ᰔ ᩚ Once, you called him in the middle of one and he was winded as ever. You recognized those breaths the instant he talked and brought him to the hilt with your voice alone. He fell a little more in love with you that day but panicked when you wanted to switch to FaceTime.

ᰔ ᩚ His chest was….a mess, but you giggled at how cute he was anyway.

K = Kink one or more of their kinks

ᰔ ᩚ Praise kink: Miguel loves to hear that he’s doing well. Please tell him that he’s doing well, he craves it. There’s definitely a reason that he needs to hear you urge him on, but your voice always sounds so good when you’re in his ear. Tell him how good he made you feel, tell him you’re proud of him, and maybe call him a good boyfriend and he’ll start trembling.

ᰔ ᩚ Hair pulling: This is one that he didn’t know he had until you accidentally yanked his head too hard while trying to stop him from tickling your stomach with his breath. He kind of froze when the groan came out of him, leaving you staring at each other for about three minutes. Once he realized what happened, his face went beat red and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes for the rest of the night. You promised him it was ok, and tested out a little hair-pulling a few weeks later which he thoroughly enjoyed. He especially loves it when you pull his hair while he’s in between your legs. He cums almost instantly.

ᰔ ᩚ Semi-public sex: There’s something about fooling around in “private” public areas that turns him on. On the balconies of hotel rooms, in private yacht pools, in dressing rooms, in his car: he just can’t wait until he’s in the bedroom, he needs you now. Are you both louder than you should be? Yep. Does he care? Not really.

L = Location favorite places to do the do

ᰔ ᩚ Again, he loves semi-public sex, but he also really loves even more intimate places like on vacation in your hotel room or on your dorm bed when Jess isn’t in there. (Although you’ve told him many times that having sex in that open room could be rude. As a compromise, he brings you to his dorm and fucks you there instead. Peter can live.) He really wants to make love to you in his childhood bedroom (the room is full of him but he wants your scent in his sheets), but he knows his mom is far too nosy for that to even happen. He’s not even sure if he could make out with you without her coming in there to check on you two.

M = Motivation what turns them on, gets them going

ᰔ ᩚ Honestly, you could probably just stand there and Miguel would conjure up a way to be turned on. Seriously though, it’s little things like seeing your midriff or hearing you call him baby in a different tone, especially if you’re doing something sexual, that gets him going. If you do something like extensive PDA (rubbing up against him, kissing him long enough to use tongue, dancing on him), wear clothes that show off your body, or when you stare at him while he’s doing his work.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re wearing a dress that he can see your fupa through? Hard. When you’re doing jumping jacks next to him in the gym during his sets? Turned on. When you wear his clothes? Rock solid. When you take the initiative? Puddy. When you let others know that he’s yours? You might not make it to your destination without him touching you in some way.

N = No something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

ᰔ ᩚ He’s not into degradation AT ALL. He’s way too much of a gentle lover/boyfriend to ever put you on a lower level than him whether it’s supposed to be enjoyable or not.

ᰔ ᩚ He is also not into pain specifically when it comes to giving it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He might do a light smack every now and then but he can’t bring himself to inflict pain, especially if it bruises. The closest you might get to that is if he gets too carried away when pounding into you, and once it’s all over, he’ll feel like a dickhead. It takes him a while to realize that you don’t mind it when his skin is slapping against yours hard enough to sting later.

ᰔ ᩚ One last slight turn off is choking. He’s never going to be comfortable enough to wrap his hands around your neck. You’re determined to let his thighs squeeze you at least once, but if he hurts you by accident, he might do something incredibly drastic.

O = Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel O’Hara is a munch. Miguel Munch O’Hara. He could stay down there for hours. Being that the first time he ate you out he actually had you screaming, he would say that he’s pretty good at it. But! There’s always room for improvement. For example, he wants you to sit on him and he wants to heat you out while you’re sitting on his shoulders. He’s slowly, but surely, inching his way there.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes giving more than receiving mostly because he can’t look down at you giving him head without losing his mind. At least if he’s eating you out, he can keep going if he cums. If he cums while you’re swallowing him, he needs at least a minute or two to reset. Not to mention, the sounds your throat makes when you’re sucking him in makes him conflicted. You promise you like it, and he loves the feeling, but he’s still wary of fucking into your mouth and hurting you.

P = Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s pace is deep, slow, and sensual because he has to pace himself. If he’s wrapped up in you, he’s bound to forget about his own pleasure in place of making sure you’re feeling good, but once you get to sinking him in and squeezing so tight, he wants to hold that out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ They seem nice. If only he could commit to them. Quickies often turn from 10 minutes to 20 minutes to way too long in a compromising position. Also, there’s way too much to clean up for what he does with you to be considered a quickie.

R = Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ With you? He’s willing to try most things, although they’re mainly vanilla. Risks for him might lead to late night trips to CVS for a pregnancy test so it’s best that he researches and plans things out thoroughly. Right now, the most he might be eager to do is change up the positions and try not to touch you.

S = Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a lot of stamina! He’s not in the gym for shits and giggles. Still, to him, he has a lot of work to do in terms of going all night. Right now, he can last for about 2-3 rounds without breaking a sweat. If he focuses on you, he can extend that number to about 4 rounds. His refractory period is also pretty stellar if he must say so himself.

ᰔ ᩚ Now, whether or not you can keep up with him is to be determined.

T = Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been too scared to own a toy living in his mother’s home, so he’s never bought one. (How Gabriel got away with buying the most obscure things, he’ll never know) The only thing he has is the bottle of lube that he frequents and his extra sets of towels to cover his bed.

ᰔ ᩚ On you, he’s happy to try out whatever you’ve got. He was really fascinated with the mechanics of your rose toy, but he’s also determined to make you have the same reaction with just his mouth alone. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t make you forget about your tiny pieces of plastic?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s also interested in trying out different types of lube, but he’s got to research which ones are really worth it.

U = Unfair how much they like to tease

ᰔ ᩚ Open the dictionary, flip to the T section, slide down the pages until you find the word “tease,” and you’ll see Miguel’s government name on the third definition of the word. He likes to claim that you’re a tease when really, he’s just a horny himbo. He knows what he’s doing when he sends you sweaty gym pictures. He knows what he’s doing when he dresses up all nice for you. He knows what he’s doing he’s all in your face in public, feening for a reaction out of you. He messes with you on purpose.

ᰔ ᩚ Let this behavior make it to the bedroom and he’s either going to regret it once you take over OR he’s going to continue it until you’re coming apart in his arms. Teasing you always leads to great, great sex.

V = Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is loud as fuck. He has to cover his mouth when he’s alone in his room thinking about you. When he’s inside of you, if he’s not moaning into your mouth, he’s breathing heavy right in your ear or groaning loudly right into your shoulders. He’ll often be louder than you. If you’re moaning with him, he encourages you and sings right along with you.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re focusing on his pleasure, he’s hyper-aware of the sounds he makes so he tries to muffle them which leads to whimpers and whines. You love it when he gets this way.

W = Wild card a random headcanon for the character

ᰔ ᩚ Hip thrusts are a great exercise for the lower half of your body and should never be missed on leg day. They pinpoint the glutes, the abs, the hips, the hamstrings, the back, and the quads. With a steady added weight, anyone who is doing this exercise possibly is sure to grow those muscles greatly over time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is never missing a chance to do hip thrusts because he is determined to fuck you this way. He can only imagine the shock on your face as he holds you up and pumps into you with a steady rhythm.

ᰔ ᩚ He’s never missing leg day.

X = X-ray let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

ᰔ ᩚ He’s definitely a shower which is why his tiny little exercise shorts can get buck-eyed looks sometimes. The first time you saw him, you felt yourself panic a bit. But the weight in your mouth? Indescribable.

ᰔ ᩚ To you, he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess, he’s probably 8- 9 inches, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re watching him leak like a faucet. He curves so nicely and definitely feel the effect of it when he lands. Watching it twitch to life has given you more inspiration than you care to admit.

Y = Yearning how high is their sex drive?

ᰔ ᩚ It’s too high for his own good. He can switch like a light and be ready to go down in you within minutes. It’s that foggy himbo mindset and the fact that you’re his first girlfriend. There have been many times where he’s gotten distracted by just thinking about you and the things he wants to do. He riles himself up when researching techniques, so of course he’s ready to be in you at any time.

Z = Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

ᰔ ᩚ Once you’ve both settled down, he’s out like a log. Let’s be real, not only has he probably worked himself up, but you definitely knocked him out with how good you gave it to him. He uses all the stamina during sex and when it’s over, the energy just fizzles out. It’s funny because you would think you were supposed to be the one that’s barely holding on, but there he is, mumbling into your skin.

ᰔ ᩚ This is definitely the time to get really soft responses out of him: satisfied, pussy-whipped, and dozing off.

This was really fun! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

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lcriedlastnight · 5 months ago

Note

Can you write something with Oscar based on this post

https://www.tumblr.com/girlonabreak/744982039484366848/may-i-offer-you-something-water-food-my

i’ll try my best anon! thank you very much for your request, i hope you like it!

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want anything added.

w/c: 2.3k

oscar was a little nervous to have you over. the relationship was fairly fresh and this would be the first time you would be at his place. he’d spent the week prior cleaning every single nook and cranny he could find, then going on tiktok and finding out how to clean the ones he didn’t even know existed. not that you would be inspecting the space behind his fridge for it’s cleanliness.

three days before, when he’d gone shopping, he texted you asking if you liked this specific brand of chocolate and if you would like some for when you stayed over at the weekend.

oscar had gotten more blankets, pillows and even got you a new teddy bear, scared that you would forget the one you couldn’t sleep without. he was determined that you were having a good nights sleep with him. you had slept together before, but not properly. those had only been you falling asleep during a film after a date or oscar coming over to yours the day after the race weekend and feeling so jet lagged he fell asleep on your couch two minutes after you started carding your fingers through his hair.

you had always made him feel so welcome at yours so he was desperate to make you feel the same. even though this was a bit different than those times he was at yours.

oscar pottered around fixing things that didn’t really need fixing at all. he triple checked the fridge incase all the food inside had gone missing. then he checked his bank account to make sure he still had his money and he hadn’t been hacked, just incase you wanted to order in or even go to the shops.

a soft knock at his door shoves oscar out of his thoughts, he runs to the door to answer. you were on the other side, weekend bag in hand. you had little to no makeup on and your hair was thrown up not too messily. oscar then thought about if you would want to shower and how he only had manly products. how could he forget to buy you shower stuff?

“osc?” you ask as you stand in the doorway. oscar blinks once, twice, then is scrambling to take your bag off you.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry. i don’t know where i was there. you look gorgeous. come in.” he says as he spins around and stands to the side to let you walk inside first.

you slowly walk inside and the first thing you notice is the amount of candles he has lit. it give the living room the most homely feel.

“your place is lovely, osc. it’s so cozy.” you tell him turning around from looking at the kitchen to face him. oscar grins at your words.

“thank you, pretty. you want me to put your bag in the room?” oscar asks, feeling a lot less high strung now that you were actually here in front of him. that usually did help calm him down.

you nod. oscar tries his best not to leave you standing all by yourself in the living room for too long. he basically sprints to his room and back. a blink and you didn’t even know he was gone, type of situation.

you’re not standing in the living room when he comes back thought. you’re sitting on the couch. you look like you belong there. it sends a wave of affection to oscar’s heart.

“you want to watch a film?” you ask him from the couch. you already had the remote in your hands.

“‘course, what kind are you feeling?” oscar asks, heading to the cupboard in the hallway to get the massive blanket he’d bought at the shops a few days earlier.

“dunno.” is your reply. oscar can tell you have a film in mind but you may be a little embarrassed to ask to watch it. as he comes to sit down beside you, he throws the blanket over the top of you and it almost suffocates you. instead of commenting on it you just get comfy. oscar rakes his brain for previous conversations about films to find the one you could watch everyday and not get tired of. as he remembers he snatches the remote off of you to bring it up. you don’t say anything but you watch on skeptically.

“this one seem okay? i’ve never seen it before but i heard you like it.” oscar says, a cocky smirk on his face as he sees the look on yours after you realise the film. you grin.

“yeah i supposed we could stick this one on and give it a go.” you pretend like you couldn’t quote the dialogue in your sleep. oscar pressed play on the film and instantly feels the need to be touching you. you had chosen to sit in the corner of oscar’s L shaped couch, an incredibly you thing to do, oscar thought. but because of where you decided to sit oscar was unsure how to go about touching you. he gives up trying to think of ways to get you in his lap.

“come sit in my lap.”

you turn your head from the tv, the opening credits rolling in the screen. “okay.” you reply, shuffling to follow his request.

it ended up that oscar was laying in the corner of the couch and faced the tv. you were sitting to his side with your legs slung over his, shoulders brushing against each other with every breathe. oscar holds one of your hands underneath the massive blanket, the other traces his name on your ankle - just above your socks.

a quarter of the way through, you shuffled around to get comfortable again, your head ended up resting on his bicep as you had moved down a little more. oscar had to hold back the coo that threatened to escape him as he felt your check squash up against his skin. oscar throws his focus back on the tv, as hard as it is he wants to know the film you love so much.

at the end of the first act, oscar moves his attention back to you, he wonders if you’re hungry but are just too scared to ask. or if you were waiting on him to offer you something. were you tired and just wanted to move to bed right now? it wasn’t that late surely. what if you actually did want to go for that shower right now? would he have enough time to go buy some flowery shampoo and body wash so you wouldn’t end up smelling like him?

“can i get you anything to eat?” oscar asks, thumb rubbing over your ankle bone. he wonders if this is the ankle you broke when you were five, or if it was the other one.

“are you hungry?” you ask oscar, head turning to look up at him. the aussie almost melts at your expression. “i am if you are.” you say to him.

this confuses oscar but he decides that eating wouldn’t hurt. he doesn’t care if you don’t eat it all.

“you want to order in or just make something here?” he asks again. it makes him feel bad making you choose but he wants to make sure you’re completely comfortable with him tonight. the time when he can just know what you want and do it for you was right around the corner and he couldn’t wait for it.

“order in.” you say after a few moments of silence. “don’t want to move from here until bed.” you explain. although oscar didn’t think you needed to explain, he thought it was cute. he thought the same thing anyway, not having felt this content in months.

“fine by me. i’ll order it and it should be here soon.”

your film finishes and you and oscar finish the food. you talk a little at the end of the film, asking him about how lando and zak were doing and how strong the car was. don’t get oscar wrong, as much as he loved his job and the fact that you took so much interest in what he did, he just wanted a day where he could sit with you and hypothesise whether or not spider-man was too young to be spidering across the city. instead of telling you this he changed the topic, comfortably so you don’t notice.

“it’s getting late. are you getting tired, pretty?” he asks. he can see the way your shoulders are a little more slumped as you sit in front of him, the film behind you having ended and instead playing a trailer for some unrelated tv series. you nod to answer his question. “a little, yeah.”

“c’mon then. bedtime for us.” oscar says picking you up by your waist and flinging you over his shoulder. he carries you to the bathroom where he sits you on the counter. you are laughing all the way there. oscar’s already thinking about which ring would suit you more. he goes in the cabinet underneath the sink and grabs a pack of two toothbrushes. one pink, one blue. it’s so domestic, oscar nearly burst when he seen them in the shops and thought of giving the pink one to you.

“i know you brought a bag full of stuff and you probably have a toothbrush with you but i thought you could keep this one here and i could maybe clear out a drawer for you in my bedroom for you to keep things here so you don’t have to go back and forth for clothes.” oscar rambles as he puts toothpaste on both brushes and hands yours to you. it’s like oscar keeps forgetting that this is the first time you’re sleeping over, mind already thinking about the next time, and the next and the next.

oscar shoves his brush in his mouth to stop his mouth. you laugh at him. “i would like that. thank you osc.” you say before copying him and brushing your teeth. oscar watches like you were doing something really interesting, his eyes darting over your face. tonight he learns another new thing about you, you’re a really messy brusher. toothpaste slipping down your chin as you brush. he has to hold back the laugh that longs to escape him, not wanting to cover you in more toothpaste than you already have all over you.

oscar spits into the sink then quickly rinses his mouth with mouthwash, then spitting that out too. you follow his actions, hopping down from the counter to spit into the sink, standing in front of oscar. before you can rinse your mouth out with mouthwash though, oscar turns your face to his with a gentle hand.

“you got a little something..” you smile at his words. oscar belonged in a romcom for sure. the boy’s thumb coming out to brush away the leftover toothpaste on your chin. you smile at him in thanks but your smile falls as he wipes it on the shoulder of your t-shirt.

“oscar! why would you do that! what’s wrong with you!?” you squeal. oscar laughs hard, his head thrown back in joy. you’re not really mad, the smile on your face hard to miss. it’s hard to be angry at the boy in front of you who literally looks like the human version of the sun.

once you’ve finished in the bathroom - oscar yapping away as you take your makeup off and done your skincare at the sink - he pulls you to his bed.

“you want to change in here or do you want me to go to the bathroom?” oscar asks, throwing you the t-shirt he’s just washed (and maybe sprayed with his cologne before you came over). you catch it before hesitating with your answer. oscar answers for you.

“why don’t you get changed in the bathroom and i can get a big reveal, seeing you with my t-shirt on?” oscar asks, giddy at his own idea. you nod, if only just to please him, although you do like his idea, thinking it’s cute he wants that.

you’re quick to get changed, your hair taken out of the ponytail to hand down, it will probably get in your face tonight. you hurry out the bathroom to find oscar sitting on top of the bed in his own pyjamas. oscar’s eyes light up at the sight of you.

“jesus christ, pretty girl. you’re going to kill me.” he says standing up, arms outstretched like he would die if he didn’t touch you in the next ten seconds. you happily fall into his embrace. face against his chest. oscar’s nose in your hair.

“you smell like you and me.” oscar smiles as he pull away from the hug and pulls you into bed instead. you laugh at his discovery. “as long as i smell good.” you tell him.

after a quick okay fight over who was getting what side of the bed, you are both cuddled up to each other. it most definitely won’t stay like this all night because what oscar doesn’t know yet is you move a lot in your sleep. he’ll find that out in the morning, but for now he’s happy to have you right where he wants you. oscar is big spoon as his arms are wrapped around you, big hands under your top and on your warm, soft skin. leg over your hip, keeping you trapped under him, not that you would ever complain about that.

the teddy bear oscar had gotten you incase you forgot yours was laying at the bottom of the bed, while you clutch yours to your chest. one of your hands ghosting over oscar’s on your stomach.

the tv is on, playing some sitcom you’d asked for. oscar never usually sleeps with the tv on but for you? he would sleep on a bed of nails if it made you comfortable.

“g’night, pretty baby.” oscar mumbles into your hair, not bothering that it was in his face. you mumble something of the sort back, he knew you were basically asleep. ‘this is my future.’ oscar thought to himself before he fell asleep.

#oscar pastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x you #op81 fluff #op81 x y/n #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lcriedlastnightrequests #lcriedlastnight

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gendercomsumer · 8 months ago

Note

hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

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fatuismooches · 6 months ago

Text

cor monstri.

synopsis: Having been awake from your centuries-long coma for quite a while, you’ve become accustomed to many of Dottore’s segments and their unique personalities, along with their love for you. However, there seems to be a segment that’s rather elusive, and you’re going to get to the bottom of it.

includes: dottore (zeta segment) w/ gn! reader

notes: This is a commissioned work! I strongly recommend reading this, this, and this, in order to get a better grasp on this particular segment, Zeta (a sincere thank you to these anons!) Fragile reader tries their best in order to make a particular gloomy segment smile, the man who feels the failure of being unable to cure them for so long.

Il Dottore was a man of many faces, quite literally.

When you were a student with him at the Akademiya, he always wore one - that perpetually annoyed look that kept everyone else away from him, a perfect fit for him as he didn’t want to be bothered. Though you did see his softer sides eventually, it was nothing compared to what you dealt with now. Ever since you woke up from your coma, you were literally looking at his numerous faces all the time.

From 01’s familiar grumpy face to 02’s wide grins, 04’s severe lack of a smile as well as 18’s relaxed nature, and the exuding confidence from 24. There was also your favorite one, the glowing and giddy face of 10 when the child clung to you. Not to mention, all the other segments of Dottore that were around you. It was a lot to see and get used to… but you grew to love them all dearly, so you eventually gave them names. Real names, instead of numbers.

However, there was one segment that was sort of an outlier. It was strange to single him out, considering how eccentric all of the segments were, but with his odd behavior, it didn’t take long for him to catch your eye. 06, now called Zeta, was his name, and you found yourself struggling to understand him, partially because you barely ever saw him. That was probably one of the strangest things - being asleep for four hundred years made it so that all the other segments longed for your company and touch, stealing you away and hogging your attention whenever they had the chance.

But Zeta, he wasn’t one of the bunch. He didn’t initiate anything but instead watched from afar. You would catch him watching you give a kiss or hug to another segment, before looking away swiftly. You would find him staring at you whenever you laughed or smiled widely, seemingly taking in your expression, before retreating somewhere else. You were confused. Did he not like you or something? Was there a period in Dottore’s life where he didn’t like you anymore?! Alright, you knew that was a dumb question, but still. Zeta never completely ignored you or drove you away, but you wondered why he seemed to be so gloomy and distant around everyone.

Zeta also had a face that was obviously familiar yet unfamiliar to you at the same time. Zeta had that fluffy blue hair you adored, and it was slightly longer than Beta’s hair, but not as long or stylized in the way of the older segments. Sometimes you’d notice it would be unkempt for days, and you’d try to brush it for him, although he initially protested and tried to leave quietly. Still, you made him sit as you weaved the hair brush and your fingers through his locks, which you greatly enjoyed but you weren’t sure if Zeta did as much.

The other segments usually spoke to you, even if it was just small talk when they were busy. But again, Zeta was an odd one. He was always quiet around you. Regardless, whenever you did something sweet for him, no matter how small, he would show some form of gratitude. That was another odd feature of his, the other segments weren’t nearly as openly kind. Of course, they could say those nice words when it was something big, but Zeta seemed to make it a point. Was he really grateful for such tiny acts? You weren’t sure.

Zeta had those gorgeous red eyes that you loved to peer into, but his eyes seemed different from the other segments, and Prime Dottore himself. The others donned a familiar glint that you loved to see, proof of their ambitions and goals and research regardless of what others thought. Zeta’s eyes, however, seemed rather empty and dull to you. Still beautiful of course, but still. And while Delta had a permanently stern expression, Zeta was also quite serious, but he just seemed… somber, in a way. He never smiled. You wondered why. You think he’d look even prettier with a smile, just like how your other lovers do.

Asking your beloved, Prime Dottore himself, didn’t give you much answers. You should have expected that, but it was still disappointing.

“Dottore, all the segments are from past stages of your life, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Like how Alpha is from when you were a student and Omega is you from not too long ago…”

“That is correct.”

“So what stage of life is Zeta from?” Your question makes your lover pause for a mere moment, before moving his pen again like nothing happened.

“It was when you were still in your coma,” was his simple response, much to your dismay.

“Okay…? Almost all of your segments are from when I was sleeping! I mean, is there anything… specific that happened during that time? Anything particular?” You pressed, hoping to see why Zeta would be so drastically different from his other segments.

“No, I simply attended to you and my Fatui duties as usual.” You had to stop yourself from groaning at the obvious lie. There had to be something that had happened to make Zeta so stony-faced and subdued, compared to Prime’s outward and self-assured nature. And despite the complications your illness brought, your determination remained and that only meant one thing.

You were going to understand and love Zeta, no matter how much work it took.

—

Even though you knew where Zeta’s office and room were, whenever you went to find him, he was nowhere to be seen. You don’t know how he manages to be so slippery, but luckily you have a plan. Because no one can be more persistent than you when it comes to pursuing Dottore! You knew that periodically each of the segments reported to Prime whatever they were researching, and that even included Zeta, who seemed to never have much to do with him or have any agents under his command either. (Did he work completely alone? You knew all the segments liked to work by themselves, but they still had agents that worked under them for menial tasks. Zeta didn’t seem to speak to anyone else though.) Regardless, you were just going to lurk near your lover’s office and wait until Zeta finally popped up.

Thankfully, your experiment was a success.

When Zeta exited Prime’s office, you were right there, patiently waiting for him. His normal monotone expression was mildly surprised, probably not expecting you to be right there. Before the segment could speak, you leaned closer, your eyes staring directly into his, which had a permanent darkness underneath.

“Zeta! Hi! Hello! How are you?” Your words came out a bit awkward because of how long you’ve waited for this moment, but you didn’t think it was much of a problem. A few moments passed, as he took in your form, the one that was alive and breathing right in front of him instead of the one that never responded to him. You tried to ignore his intense stare before you got flustered. Just what could he be thinking about? You felt you understood Dottore and all the others well, but Zeta… well, he was a mystery that you’d crack. Hopefully.

“... I am fine. And you?” He had already begun walking but had trouble doing so as you were practically circling him excitedly. The sight made his chest oddly warm, but his usual expression remained, giving away nothing to his true feelings.

“I’m good too! Besides all the other stuff of course,” you didn’t see how his face tightened at the indirect mention of your illness, “But anyway, I have a problem. A very serious problem that only you can help me with,” you declared.

“And that is?” Zeta watched as your cheerful demeanor turned more serious.

“You’re the only segment I’ve barely spent any time with. That makes me quite sad. I want to get to know you some more, Zeta,” you said simply, having no interest in beating around the bush. “I know we haven’t spoken a lot but… I would like to change that. I mean, I know you probably don’t like to speak to people but…” You fiddled with your sleeve a bit nervously now, “But I would still like to try. I like you a lot, you know?” Zeta looked at you as you spoke, noticing every small detail that crossed your face, your eyes that blinked shyly as you bit your lip. Every movement of yours was mesmerizing for the man who once constantly stared at your unmoving face.

“So… what do you say, Zeta?” Ah, that’s right. You were waiting for an answer, now bearing a hopeful look. He should decline, the segment thinks. He’s satisfied with watching you go about your day.

“If that’s truly what you want, then I suppose nothing I say will be able to deter you,” the opposite comes out of his mouth, a feeling that’s buried deep within him, one that can’t help but come out when you’re near. Before he can speak again, to say that being with him probably won’t be the experience you’re looking for, you joyfully celebrate by wrapping your arms around the segment. You fight the urge to kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise it won’t be boring!” Your warmth envelopes Zeta’s body, an unfamiliar sensation that has him frozen. So this is the sweetness that Prime and the other segments indulge in every day? And yet in his mind and body, your coldness from long ago still permeates him. From when you weren’t even able to respond to his words. Before you can notice something is wrong, he tentatively places his hand on your back, making sure his fingers do not twitch from how starved he is for you.

And then your days with Zeta officially began.

—

Rather quickly into your attempt to understand Zeta, the most important thing for you was to get to know him. Talk with him. Figure him out. You found that this task was difficult yet simple at the same thing. Zeta answered your question concisely as you expected him to, but… that was it. He was to the point and nothing else, not the conversationalist like his other segments. It left you with a lot of gaps to fill. Especially since you had no exact idea of what era of Dottore’s life he was from.

But still, you enjoyed your time with Zeta.

You learned that his area of research was medicine, creating and modifying new types for the Fatui’s use. But more importantly, he helped to create medicine for you. You didn’t expect that - you thought only Prime would do such a thing, but Zeta was incredibly skilled. You learned that he did indeed work with no one else at all, having “no interest in dealing with them,” according to the segment.

You also learned that he was immensely attentive toward you, especially when your illness seemed to affect you the most. His eyes followed you when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, examining your body language and expression. If you were dizzy, he’d force you to sit down. If you looked to be more tired than usual, he’d make you go to sleep. The most you had heard him speak so fluently without stopping was when you had the “audacity” to still visit him while you were running a slight fever.

Well, perhaps you should have expected that considering the others would react in a similar way, but you felt as though he was especially serious about it. While the other segments could entertain your excuses to an extent, he wouldn’t. It made you wonder if his stronger feelings had someone to do with his personality. You felt bad for worrying him… perhaps you should try to cheer him up. Actually, making him smile too. Yes, that would do nicely. But how? You weren’t sure if the tricks (more like a bombardment of affection) would work on Zeta. Still, there was no harm in trying.

I. plan a - attack with affection!

“Zeta~ whatcha doing?” You had come up from behind him as he sat in his chair, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Zeta instantly takes note of your warm breath on his neck, the rise and fall of your chest, but ignores his longing for more.

“Reviewing the effects of the medicine on the others,” he replied, neglecting to mention who exactly was being tested on. You sighed, enjoying the fluff of his hair, but slightly disappointed at how he didn’t seem to be fazed whenever you touched him.

“Don’t you think you should take a little break? You’re always working,” you advised as you kissed the stoic man on the cheek. Pretty much all of the segments were constantly working or engrossed with their research, but many found some time to slack off with you, even for a few minutes. Well, it was more like you forced them to do so, but that was beside the point.

“I do not have time to spare with such things,” is Zeta’s immediate answer. All this annoying Fatui work he has to do takes up so much of his time when he should be focusing on helping to cure you. It’s extremely irritating for the segment, but of course, you don’t know that. You whine a bit, nipping his cheek to get him to reconsider, but the consistent somber look remains.

“At least let me keep you company,” you said. Before he could protest or accept, you had already pulled his chair out to make yourself comfortable on his lap. This technique always worked, tested multiple times by you. You had to fluster him at least a little bit! His deep red eyes bore into yours before he sighed.

“If that is what you would like,” he said as he continued to work on analyzing the records in front of him. You were content with lying against him, head braced against his shoulders. At some point, you noticed his hand now rested on your thigh and then moved up your body, which you delighted in.

“You are very warm,” Zeta finally commented after a while of silence.

“Me? Warm?” You were a bit surprised because you were used to being told that you were pretty cold, mostly due to your illness, but Zeta didn’t seem to think so, considering how his arm was snaked around you firmly.

“Yes. Quite warm.” At least compared to all those centuries ago, Zeta thought. You looked at him curiously.

“Do you like it?”

“I do. It helps with focusing.” You almost giggled at that. Here you were trying to distract him, but he said you were helping him focus.

“Then let me warm you up some more,” you whispered, hands slithering up to his shoulders as you pressed your lips against his neck, leaving long kisses down to his collarbone. You then kissed his cheek, trying to gauge his reaction. Still, he wasn’t even blushing, as composed as always… well, a lot of the other segments were like this too, but you hoped you’d be able to see a similar expression as when you teased Alpha.

“Come on Zeta, don’t I deserve some kisses too?” You teased, as your lips got dangerously close to his, nearly brushing each other. You felt him stiffen up at how close you were, his eyes struggling to stay focused on his papers.

“Is it ever possible for you to show restraint?” You smiled at the snarkiness - even though Zeta was more a lot subdued than the others, you still could be a victim of his sarcasm.

“Of course I can. Just not when it comes to you. You’re just too cute,” you said before locking your lips with his, finally indulging in such pleasure. At first, Zeta’s lack of response made you worry that he didn’t want it, but soon enough he kissed you back. It was gentle at first, a bit unnoticeable, but after a few moments, he kissed back harder, catching you off guard. You pulled away, trying to regain your breath, but he then kissed you again, not letting you escape from his grasp. The kiss was greedy, and the way his fingers dug into your arms was as if he felt you would slip away if he didn’t hold onto you hard enough. Of course, you welcomed the feeling along with your beating heart, although you were speechless by the end of it, only staring at the segment with your mouth slightly ajar. Zeta had an amused glint, a refreshing look from his normally empty gaze.

“Why so surprised? Is this not what you asked for?”

“I- Well, yes, it was. And I am not disappointed,” you quickly replied, hoping to seem not too bothered by that sudden assault. Looks like he flustered you instead of you flustering him… but you know what? It was still a win!

“You know what this means, Zeta?” You looked at you silently, beckoning you to continue.

“Mission accomplished! I got you to take a little break, didn’t I?” You giggled at the success of your little plan, while Zeta’s eyes softened a tiny bit, the bags under his eyes looking a little less dark.

“... I guess you did.”

Plan A resulted in a semi-success and failure, but you think you’re a step closer to seeing a smile on Zeta’s face.

II. plan b - gift him something nice!

Gifts were always a good way to make someone smile. How could one not smile, after seeing someone else go out of their way to get something that was thoughtful? No one, that’s right, well, except for Dottore. Some of his segments, to be more specific. You remember quite well when you used to gift Dottore things in the Akademiya, he would always be suspicious of your ulterior motives. Thankfully, he’s changed now, because it would be difficult to have your partner of four hundred years wary of your intentions.

However, you were unaware of what kind of gifts Zeta would like. All the segments had their own preferences that you took into consideration, but you had only gotten to know Zeta recently, so you weren’t sure what he’d like yet. Should you cook for him? You could, but you had already given him a lot of tasty treats. You wanted to get something better for him. In the end, you simply decided to ask him.

“Zeta, what do you like?” You questioned, as you idly observed what he was writing. You think it was something about selling stuff to another Harbinger.

“What do I like?” He repeated. It was an odd question because he thought you’d know such things by now, but he still humored you. “Successful experiments, for one.” You giggled.

“I know that. I mean… if you had to receive something right now, what would it be? A gift, you could say. I could even make something for you!”

“A gift? That’s right, you used to be quite skilled with your hands,” Zeta reminisced about your past creations from when you were a student, more to himself rather than you from his expression, as he ran his longer fingers over the palm of your hands absentmindedly. A good pen that didn’t break would be nice, but he knew that was probably impossible.

“I do not require anything at this moment. There is no need to bother with it.” You hung your head in disappointment, which you should have expected, but you were unwilling to just give up like that.

For a while, you brainstormed. You thought for ages about what gift would be best for Zeta, and one day it hit you.

A picture frame.

Recently you had become knowledgeable about the “Kamera”, a device that took “pictures”, which were images that were captured permanently. It was fascinating to see yourself reflected back at you like that. Zeta liked to stare at you, his preferred method of communication to be honest. So would it not be a nice gift, a picture of you that he could look at whenever you weren’t around? And you could decorate the picture frame cutely! It was perfect! You were excited.

You didn’t bother asking another segment to take the picture for you, because you knew they’d get jealous if they found out what you were preparing for Zeta. You rather not have to think of over a dozen poses to do for each of them right now. You settled on a simple smile for the picture, placed some stickers along the frame that definitely didn’t match the vibe of Zeta’s office, and then put it there one day for him to come and see. You decided not to say anything, wanting to see his reaction.

As soon as he walked into his office, he immediately noticed you lying down, poorly pretending to be reading, and then his eyes wandered to the new addition on his desk. Zeta sighed at your determination, a trait he did admire about you even if you were annoying about it sometimes. Taking a seat, he then looked at the gift you had presented him with. The picture of you glowed back at him, a pretty smile that belonged on your face. It reminded him of the smiles you had back in the Akademiya. There were also the heart stickers that you plastered along the frame, that was simply so you. [Name].

“It is good. You seem adept with a Kamera, which is not surprising.” Your heart stuttered at the praise.

“It is fun to use. We should take some pictures together! I need to add them to my scrapbook.”

Zeta only hummed in response, his mood unusually better than usual, and glanced at the photo for a few more seconds. He then moved it to a better position and returned to his work. You held back a smile.

Plan B was definitely a success!

III. plan c - make him laugh!

Something that always made you laugh was when Dottore or the segments laughed. You always found it captivating to see how different their laughs were. Segments like Alpha and Delta rarely laughed, and when they did, it was more like a scoff. Omega’s laugh, which was usually when he was amused, whether it was genuine or in a mocking way, always made your heart flutter. Beta’s laugh, where you joined in with his hee-hee-ho-hos. So naturally, you wondered how you would get Zeta to laugh. Yes, you knew that you hadn’t even gotten the segment to smile yet, but maybe getting him to laugh could be a step in that direction.

Should you pull out some of your favorite terrible and corny jokes? Well, that probably wouldn’t be very effective - those jokes only served to make you laugh at the segments’ disgusted and humorless expressions. Especially with a segment like Zeta, you think that for all of the loving looks he gave you, he might give you one that made you want to crawl into a hole.

Maybe he was ticklish? It was worth a try, actually - Zandy always ran away when you tried to tickle him, and when you tried to tickle Dottore back in the Akademiya, you think he nearly broke your arm. It didn’t work on the older segments, but maybe it would on Zeta!

On the day you put your plan into action, you were in the perfect position on his lap, examining the best spots on his body that could possibly be ticklish. His ears and neck, or perhaps you should just go for his sides instead. Your hands curled into his shirt automatically, fingers moving up to his side when Zeta spoke.

“I would prefer if you pulled these tricks on the others rather than me, especially when I’m working.” It took a few moments for you to process his words before you sat upright, trying to defend your innocence.

“Hey! I wasn’t going to do anything!” You said, pulling your hands away, but Zeta looked at you blankly.

“There are times when I cannot figure you out, and there are times when you are a very obvious person. This time is the latter.” You pouted at the half compliment, half insult as you snuggled into his shoulder in embarrassment, but Zeta spoke again.

“However, I recommend going for the neck if you are still insistent,” he said, and you immediately regained your energy as your hands gripped his shoulders, wandering dangerously close to his neck. “Though, I believe using your lips would be more effective,” Zeta added on, and you paused as you thought about what he was implying.

“... You’re just trying to get me to kiss you, aren’t you?”

“I am simply giving the answer you seek.”

“You know, you’re just lucky I like giving you kisses,” you mumbled, before giving in to his request. Well, that backfired, but this outcome wasn’t at all bad!

Still, it seems like Plan C resulted in a failure…

IV. plan d - try to discover the truth!

You’ve spent a while with Zeta by now, learning quite a bit about his likes and dislikes - how he didn’t have a preference for being kissed, satisfied with your soft lips being anywhere, how he hated being bothered by any other agents even if it was only occasionally. How his favorite places to kiss you were your wrists and chest, along with the hollow of your neck, exactly where your heartbeat was, and how he quickly became agitated if you showed even the slightest sign of discomfort from your illness.

You loved Zeta and all his little quirks.

But you still had little information as to why he was so dour all the time. It hurts your head sometimes, after listening to Beta’s exuberant rants or Omega’s effortless charisma or even Prime’s endless discussion of his latest research, to Zeta’s quietness that came with dull eyes staring at you. Sure, you had gotten him to open up a bit, but it was just too strange for you to let go of. Maybe you could just ask him, but you didn’t want to be rude… but if you wanted to make him smile, you wanted to know why he was so serious yet so down all the time…

The next best solution was to investigate his stuff. Yes, it wasn’t the nicest thing ever, but you needed answers. You had already glimpsed around Zeta’s office a bit, because you liked to help him wherever you could, and you didn’t see anything that could be a clue. So the next best place was his room. Granted, all the segments’ rooms were pretty bland and empty, but it was still worth a shot.

After you woke up from your coma, the segments started leaving their personal rooms unlocked, because you loved to wander into them and take naps on their beds. Even though they hardly visited their own rooms, it was a nice surprise to come back to the sight of you sleeping peacefully, definitely falling asleep to the scent of their shirt. And it wasn’t like anyone else could find the location of their quarters. Therefore, it wasn’t hard to slip into Zeta’s room.

Of course, his room was practically a copy of all the other rooms. Regardless, your eyes swept through the room, landing on the desk with drawers (because for some reason, they still could work in their own rooms.) That would be a good place to look. Taking a seat at the desk, you found nothing but boring reports, talking about some Patient E43 or X12 or whatever, nothing you were interested in.

Pulling open the drawers, some more loose papers were scattered about, none catching your eye, until you came across a notebook stashed toward the back. It was oddly familiar to the one you remember reading from when you first woke up, that you found in Prime’s office. Curiously, you picked it up and began to skim through the writing, taking note of the date that was from around two hundred years ago.

“It has been centuries since I last heard [Name]’s voice. I must keep replaying their annoying laugh and nagging tone in my head before I forget how they sound in this deafening silence.”

“Pierro spoke to me today. He didn’t say anything outright, but I knew what he meant. My research has slowed, but can’t these other idiots can operate without me? I have important matters to attend to.”

The entries went on, and on, and on, all detailing numerous failures and unsuccessful attempts of Dottore’s. Then, you got to the ones where the date got closer to the current time, a couple of decades ago.

“Even though my hands brush their skin every day, I seem to still be unaccustomed to the coldness of their body.”

“Their pulse is always the same. A dreadful, slow, heartbeat, that is nearly nonexistent. I despise it. And yet no matter how many trials I run, it remains the same.”

You continued to flip through the notebook that detailed so much about what he did in your coma, unethical actions that bordered on desperation. Even if he didn’t directly say his feelings, you could feel them flowing through you. Suddenly, Zeta’s nature made complete sense. It was due to the overwhelming failure he felt, even guilt, you’d say. Even you thought it was an uncharacteristic thing for him to feel - you rarely ever saw Prime display guilt unless it was a serious argument. But it was the only explanation, from these entries at least. Your heart suddenly began to hurt. You caused Zeta all this pain, in a way…

“Are you finished?” The voice now made your heart spike with surprise as you slammed the notebook shut, scrambling up from your seat to see none other than the segment, looking at you with an expression that seemed to say he wasn’t really surprised.

Now, this was just the most classic, cliche thing that would happen in one of the romance novels that always made you mad, but now that it was happening to you, you felt immense embarrassment.

“I- um, well,” you sputtered, trying to find an explanation, but there was none. “I’m sorry, Zeta. I’m sorry.” You avoided his gaze while he sighed.

“Go ahead. Ask what you’ve wanted to ask since the beginning.”

“Did you write this?” Your voice was quiet, the sadness layering over it thickly, as you put the notebook back where it was. No need for it anymore when you had Zeta in front of you.

“Yes and no. The more recent writing is from me. The earlier ones are from Prime himself, though I suppose you could consider it me as well since I am him from that stage of life,” he said as he began to walk toward you, until he was standing in front of you, taking note of your downcast look.

“Zeta… all of this, I don’t…” The vast emotion you felt from the writing made your head swing because you never thought Dottore could feel so… strongly, in that kind of way.

“Those fools from above tried to take you away from me… they tested me,” he breathed in your scent, finger tracing along your neck to feel your pulse. You tried to ignore how quickly you were heating up by the close proximity. “But they failed. Of course they did.” The malice in his voice then dissipated as he stepped away, gritting his teeth, and you already missed his warmth.

“But I…” You quickly interrupted him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly.

“You did not fail me, Zeta. Don’t say that,” you murmured as you brought his hand closer to your face, nuzzling it to your cheek. “I’m alive and breathing in front of you, aren’t I? That’s proof enough of how hard you worked. You don’t need to worry anymore,” you tried to comfort him.

“It is not enough,” he snapped, leaving you silent, as he then realized he didn’t mean to direct that tone toward you, stroking your cheek as a quiet apology. “I should have been able to wake you up sooner. I should have been able to cure you by now. If I was successful, things wouldn’t be the way they are now.”

Your heart couldn’t help but ache at the segment’s pain. You had no clue that he or Dottore himself felt this guilty when you were sleeping. The only thing you could do was hug Zeta, enveloping him in your arms. It was then you realized that even though you wished you could rid him of his sense of failure and guilt right now, you knew you couldn’t. It was a key characteristic of his at this phase… so you could only promise him something.

“Zeta… I can’t change the past or how you felt back then… but I can promise that my heart will never stop beating for you ever again. My arms will be here when you need them, I’ll talk to you so much you’ll miss the quiet, and I’ll make sure I keep you so warm you’ll overheat. I’ll never keep you waiting ever again,” you said gently but firmly, fingers curling into his shirt, hoping your words would reassure him a little bit. Zeta remained motionless for a few moments, and you worried that you said something wrong, but he then wrapped his arms around you too, holding you tightly.

“I will hold you to that, [Name],” he said, his voice still tinged with his regrets but also held something a bit softer.

“Of course.”

“There will be consequences if you go back on your word.”

“I know.”

“I mean it.”

“Yes, darling. You need not worry again.”

“Hmph…” Despite his gruff words, the way he held you said it all.

Plan D seemed like a failure on the surface, but you think you were pretty successful.

V. plan e - get a smile on that face!

It had been a little while since your numerous encounters with Zeta, and it was from then that you found out how clingy he could be. Nuzzling into your soft body, holding onto you when you said you were leaving, not wanting to relinquish you to the others. Now that you knew what he went through, you easily understood why though. However, you didn’t mention it at all unless you wanted to be ignored.

And now that you had gotten him to speak a bit more, you were blessed with the usual Dottore you knew and loved - more quips and banter filled the room, instead of the once-normal silence. Still, he liked the quiet between you two better, preferring to observe everything about you and take note of every change you went through, no matter how tiny it was. In a way, it made you more embarrassed than when the other segments would fluster you with words.

More importantly, you were able to become a bit more skilled in convincing Zeta to take breaks. You didn’t want him to constantly work on either his Fatui duties or your medicine, even though he was made to do so. So now you had convinced him to take merely a ten-minute break on your bed after he had finished a nightly check-up. It was always interesting to see how his touch would be fluttering and unsure at first, and then become firmer as he continued to take your presence in. And right now, he was taking in how you were fiddling with his fingers and playing with them. A sure sign that you were thinking of something.

“Is something wrong?” The blue-haired man questioned, as he ran his hand through your messy hair. Zeta liked seeing you like this, even if you tried to shoo him away from how disheveled you looked. It was much more preferable than seeing your unsettlingly perfect appearance and unmoving body, even if you kicked him in your sleep sometimes.

You sighed as you then turned on your side to face him, squinting your eyes at him carefully. Out of nowhere, you then moved your hands to the sides of his face, squeezing his cheeks in an effort to pull up his lips. Of course, it was over as quickly as it started as Zeta quickly removed your hands, scowling at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He said, not appreciative of the sudden tugging of his face. You only pouted as he held your hands hostage.

“I’ve spent this much time with you, and I still have yet to see you smile…” You buried your face into the soft pillows to lessen your disappointment.

“A smile?” The segment scoffed. “Is that what you were after the whole time? How meaningless.”

“It’s not dumb! It’s very important to me,” you protested. “Please, can I get a smile? A grin? Even an annoying smirk would do!” You pleaded with Zeta, seeing as it was your last resort, considering all your other plans didn’t work. Unfortunately, it looked like it wasn’t going to work on him in the slightest.

“No.”

“With sprinkles and cherries on- mhph!”

“Go to sleep,” he interrupted you as he pressed a finger to your lips, silencing your plea, before getting off the bed, already returning to his work. Sadly, your arms weren’t long enough to drag him back in time.

“Zeta,” you whined, wanting to indulge in his embrace some more although the blankets were already quite warm. “Don’t go so quickly.”

“Your eyes are drooping. The medicine is kicking in, so go to sleep,” his dry response made you grumble, but you knew he was looking out for you in his own way.

“Fine… good night, Zeta. Love you.” The segment had no response other than switching off the lights, and letting you get your rest.

You fell asleep thinking that hopefully, Plan F would finally get him to smile, not aware of the small smile that graced his lips.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin dottore x reader #genshin dottore #dottore angst #il dottore #genshin il dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #zandik x reader #genshin impact dottore #dottore genshin #genshin impact x you #fragile reader <3 #divider by cafekitsune

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gilverrwrites · 5 days ago

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would love to hear more of ur thoughts of jason... ANY jason thoughts, virgin, getting pegged, dom, on top on bottom, angry, emotional, loving, clingy...

any jason thoughts are appreciate tenfold pls i love the way you write its so sensual and enjoyable (//ω//)

Virgin!Jason/Sex Worker!Reader, 1.9K Words Why thank you anon, you're too kind. It’s funny you sent this in because I have been thinking about Jason a lot recently. Bit of a an odd one actually, I’ve been thinking about how easily he could get hooked on OFs or something similar. Stay with me here...

‘Jason loves cars, and girls, and getting into fights…’

The problem is, ever since he came back, he doesn’t know how to talk to or act around women.

Think about it. He was a teenage boy when he died, still going through puberty, never truly finding closure on all those changes. Now he’s a man.

A man with emotions, and desires, and urges that he doesn’t understand and has no idea how to satiate. The not knowing makes him nervous, angry even.

The first and only time Roy tried the “Have you met Jay?” line it was painful. Like giving water to a hydrophobe. Dying of thirst, wanting it so bad, but his hands are shaking, he can barely even make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation. Or touch her. Man, he wanted to touch her, she had such a pretty smile and glowing skin and the most brilliant laugh. He wound up muttering a ‘sorry, bye.’ To the floor and walking out. When Roy finally caught up, he got one hell of an earful. Yelling was all Jay could do not to start throwing punches he'd regret later. Roy had only had the best of intentions after all.

It was Dick who’d mentioned that the posters of half-naked women splayed across car bonnets or dowsed in lite beer might be a bit distasteful. He’d wanted to argue, if they’re bad, why do they sell them? But he was smarter than that really, and Dick was right, if he ever did bring a girl home, he wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Though the mattress without a bed frame and the lack of amenities might do that anyway. Regardless, he takes them down and throws them out along with a stack of vintage Playboys from his youth. He’ll rely on the words of D. H. Lawrence, Cleland and the likes for that sort of thing.

And just reading works, for a while. But there are itches books just can’t scratch, and like hell is he mortified himself trying to talk to women in public again. He’d almost gotten up the courage once since the debacle with Roy.

At the library, looking for classics and checking out their damaged clearance sale. He’d noticed her the moment he’d entered, such a sweet, sharp woman, teaching seniors how to use computers. He’d lingered for a while, until the class was over, determined to make small talk with her while getting his books checked out, but then he remembered what he was checking out. Immediately he was flooded with doubt. She'd think he was a perv. He put his books on the put-back trolly and left without a word.

That same night, feeling sorry for himself is when he falls down the rabbit hole of social media. Scrolling endlessly through post after post of girls on Instagram. His own page consisted of only a faceless gym selfie and the engine of a bike he’d been restoring, but he followed a lot of accounts. Book reviewers, muscle car enthusiasts, musicians. It wasn’t purely coincidental that most of those content creators were women.

His heart jumps out of his chest when he gets a notification, that doesn’t happen often, and usually it’s from Dick sending him funny dog videos, or Steph tagging him memes but this one is a ‘follow back’.

He’d been following you for a while, liking all your posts and occasionally commenting. Nothing flirty, he didn’t wanna seem like one of those creeps saying gross, inappropriate shit, but that often resulted in him sounding lame for praising the high amount of protein in your home-cooked meal, or something else mundane. Today he’s pointed out how nice the clouds in the back of your group selfie looked but apparently that was enough to get your attention.

You like his two photos and drop him a message. “Hadn’t noticed but you’re right. Those clouds were very pretty.”

‘Not as pretty as you.’ He types out then quickly deletes it. You were very pretty, exactly the kind of girl he would choke up around. You didn't have a lot of followers, and your posts weren't really curated to a theme or gimmick. You just documented your life. For some reason though Jason had been drawn to you ever since your smiling face had popped up in his recommended following.

Instead replies with a very creative “Yeah”

“Sorry, hope I’m not bothering you. You just seem cool.”

“You’re not bothering me.” He answers instantly, not wanting to put you off but unsure what to say.

“Good! If you’re ever feeling chatty, hmu 😊”

Easier said than done, but he massively appreciates the offer. He just doesn’t know how to take you up on it. Looking for inspiration he looks at your account again, noticing a link in your bio that he’s sure hadn’t been there when he’d first followed you. He does a spit take when it leads him to an OF page. No, that definitely was not there before.

Now he’s even more unsure what to do. Would it be weird for him to subscribe after you’d just spoken to him? Or was that what you wanted? Surely you put it there because you want subscribers, right? Should he ask you or would that make it more awkward? Why is taking down drug lords and killer clowns less scary and confusing than this?

He stews on the conundrum for a while, but eventually, he takes the plunge, signing up with the same username as his Instagram, irlgothamzombie. He could spend all night looking at your posts, and he does. Judging by your post history, and low interactions, you’ve not been doing this long, but he circles through the same handful of posts over and over, keeping his own hands full throughout. wink wink.

He can’t get enough of looking at your body, squeezed into little costumes, draped in colourful lingerie, naked and stark against your bedspread. There’s one video in particular he can’t get enough of though, it’s you in a lacy green slip, giggling as you play with the hem, teasing the camera with a cheeky glint in your eye but never really showing anything. He plays it over and over again, fisting his cock as he images it’s his hands sneaking up your thighs, making you laugh over and over until he cums into his hand.

Even though the caption is specifically asking him your followers what type of content they’d like to see you make while in that outfit, he only comments “nice wallpaper” and logs out, cheeks burning with shame as he cleans up.

It’s a few days before he works up the nerve to log back in. He’s still high on adrenaline after a face-off with Black Mask. Feeling bold and looking for release, it’s the first thing he does when he gets home but seeing two notifications from you is like having a bucket of ice water thrown at him.

You’d replied to his comment, “😂Hadn’t noticed but you’re right.”

When he hadn’t said anything else you’d sent him another DM. “Losing interest, or are you just the shy type?”

“The ‘you’re so hot I don’t know how to talk to you type.’” He’d read through the other comments you’d gotten, that felt tame. A little out of his comfort zone, but safe enough to press send.

“That’s actually so sweet.” You get back to him quickly, sending multiple messages at once. Hopefully that means you’re glad to hear from him. “You can talk to me however you like.”

“You never said what you wanted to see me do?”

“If you’re comfy answering.”

Shitshitshit. His throat is painfully dry as he thinks up a response. “idk but I like it on.”

“green is my favorite color.”

“looks good on you”

“Do you want to see me fuck myself while wearing it?” The question is accompanied by a racy picture of you wearing the slip in reference that you hadn’t posted anywhere else.

YES! “yeah”

“Should I use my hands, or something naughtier?”

“whatever you like best” it probably seems like such a cop-out answer but he means it. “want you to enjoy it as much as I will”

“Can’t tell if you’re my nicest subscriber or not, but I got you, sweet stuff 😉”

The next day you upload the results, and he watches it straight away, not that he’d been waiting for it or anything. He’s already half-hard when he hits the play button. Then you say “This one’s specifically for you irlgothamzombie” straight into the camera with a wink and he can’t get his dick out of his pants fast enough.

He tries to take it slow, wanting to enjoy the whole video but that’s easier said than done. He’s leaking pre-cum minutes into watching as you run your hands along your body, dipping your fingers between your legs, over your covered nipples but never revealing anything.

His resolve wavers when you start to rub yourself through the fabric, cooing and moaning as you build friction. He bites his lip so hard to ground himself that it starts to bleed.

Then you bring out the big guns, he doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of toy. Long, with a round head that you hold to your clit and fuck, do you enjoy it. You’re practically drooling as you buck your hips and roll your eyes back. Your orgasm is loud and wet, and he almost breaks until he realises there are still a few minutes left.

You keep going, so he does too. Holding out until the very end. Is it possible that sex could feel better than this? Wild.

He messages you first this time.

He buys the green slip and the matching thong, still dirty after you’d cum all over them. Under the bawdy smell of sex he can just make scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating. Maybe he should ask you what brand it is so he can get a bottle and spray it all over his apartment.

He spends all day in bed, clutching the delicate lace to his chest and sucking on the underwear until his dick aches and he physically can’t cum again without hurting himself.

He isn’t sure how he feels about your return PO Box being in Blüdhaven. It's exciting and terrifying to think that you're real, and out in the world, within driving distance even. He could just bump into you one day. He could probably track you down if he wanted to but he kind of likes the comfort of you being behind a screen.

Eventually, he buys every service you offer, custom videos, a dick rating, your private Snapchat, and he practically purges your wish list. Not just the sexy stuff, but the gift cards, the clothes, the collectables, anything you want.

With every purchase you send him your thanks, ask him about his day, his interests both sexual and in general. You offer him services for free or heavily discounted, expressions of your gratitude for all he’s done but he always declines.

A part of him believes that you’d still talk to him if he stopped financing you, you're practically two steps away from asking for it outright, and he knows that. But the money is like a safety net. Like his helmet; a barrier between him and heartbreaking humiliation. As long as he keeps doling out the cash, he’ll never have to know if you’d reject him without it.

#anon #gilverrrambles #jason todd #jason todd/reader #jason todd x reader #red hood/reader #red hood x reader #red hood #nsft #reader insert #f reader #tw sex work

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withleeknow · 7 months ago

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i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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tswhiisftteedr · 10 months ago

Note

hi!!!! could I please request general nsfw headcannons for vox, val, and velvette (or just your favorite of the 3!)? maybe especially with a slightly bratty partner? thank you! :)

Behave Bitch! ☆ Headcanon + Oneshot

☆ Valentino x Bratty!Gn!Reader, Vox x Bratty!Gn!Reader, Velvette x Bratty!Gn!Reader, and Valentino x Bratty!Gn!Reader x Vox:

You go out of your way to fuck with them and test their patience, and this is how their repercussion would be.

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation(Lots of of degradation), Oral Sex(Male Receiving), Penetrative Sex, Bad Spanish, Creampie, Possessiveness, Spanking, Choking, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Handcuffs, Blood, Biting, Electricity NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: Total — 13 806, Valentino(Hc + Oneshot) — 2419, Vox(Hc + Oneshot) — 2365, Velvette(Hc + Oneshot) — 3463, Vox & Valentino(Hc + Oneshot) — 5539

Note: So I may or may not be a total slut for the three of them, and especially a sucker for Val x reader x Vox action. Like how should I say it? Oh, yeah, I need them inside m— Hehsjsnsnjwns Awooga lol. *Bitch is used gender neutrally if you couldn’t tell. So 4 things, number one this Headcanons + Drabbles/Slight Short One shots, note that the example in the headcanons are just examples of scenario, and are unrelated to the drabble part, so don’t get confused when they mention one situation and then you read about another. Number 2, the type of reader was not precise so I went with gender neutral, so I’m sorry if the smut part isn’t the best as I am still lacking in writing experience to make something great with the lack of precise genitalia mention. But if you find it good, we’ll good for you! Also I used Google and translation apps when it came to the Spanish that Valentino employs, so I’m sorry to my Hispanic readers of the display of language is not to your liking. And lastly, I didn’t know how to write a slightly bratty reader, so I’m sorry anon if the reader is either not enough or too bratty. Personally I love a full on bratty, attention whore, whiny reader because that’s how I am.(If I was hot and got over my fear of being rejected, anyways-) That’s it for info about the fic!!

Author Note: As I am writing this, I am halfway way done with a lute one shot, but I must say, please stop requesting works. I put my request on pause, and I indicated that one both my Masterlist and rules, but seems that people are still confused because some of my older fics have ‘Request are open’ at the bottom. So please don’t request anything more, I have 34 request to start working on after I finish the lute one, plus I still haven’t started to work on chapter 3 for my Idia series. (12 of those request are actually Adam related, and one of them is a zestial one, where the requester offered to pay me for it, so it’s at the top of my list after this 💸💰. Though I still haven’t reach them because I want to finish my lute work first.) Also I am fucking pissed as I am written this, cuz I keep seeing clips of episodes 7&8 of Hazbin on tumblr, but I don’t have prime so I have to wait for stupid illegal websites to repost them. Like I am genuinely mad at the wait time, since my boys(Val and vox, my loves, my husbands, my #1 turn ones-) are in it. Worst part of it all I saw the clips of Vox literally thrusting into the air saying his hard and that the sight of Alastor bloody was better than sex. Like shit, did that make me horny. Like Vox, sweaty, you can take out that pent up energy from the build up excitement, I don’t mind if the other Vees are watching, Valentino can even join~ Hehsjjsjsjnsks. Update: I just watch the two episodes, and fuck were they good. Anyways I’m done, enjoy the fic cunts!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

ఌ︎ Valentino ఌ︎

Oh, you have no idea ‘what kind of gift you gave him with your behavior, Cariño~’

He takes pleasure in ‘putting bitches in their place,’ so feel free to be yourself, use that sharp tongue, but be prepared for the consequences without too much complaints. And he relishes in being the one to mete out repercussions.

Valentino's approach is straightforward; he often lets you play and act as bratty as you want while casually keeping an eye on you. ‘No need to worry; he's merely observing.’

He'd allow you to talk back, tolerating insults, while seated in the VIP section of one of his clubs, surrounded by smoke and flirting demons. All that set up to provoke you into further incriminate yourself.

Despite the condescending expression on his face, you didn’t have anything to about him, everything appearing ordinary, considering he was Val. Nothing seemed suspicious for a while... and then, ¡Bam!

You find yourself dragged into the club's private bedroom, now in a position where you're either tied up or bent over his lap/desk, enduring a session of intense spanking for being a 'good-for-nothing slut,' with degrading comments throughout.

Valentino opts for a paddle, well aware of the sharp sting it leaves on your skin.

Eventually, he transitions to using his hands, relishing in the visible aftermath of his touch—handprints and bite marks adorning your body.

As tears stream down your face, you apologize and plead to him ‘that you would be better, so please stop’ and that’s ‘ ‘s to much!’. He makes no effort to conceal his satisfaction, openly grinning at your vulnerable state.

Today unfolded like any other typical day in hell, as you paid a visit to your boyfriend on the set. Entering his studio, you hung back for a moment, observing Valentino directing the actors, his voice sexy as always but this time yet again fill with frustration.

Amidst the chaos, there were whispers among the staff about the planned star for the movie being decapitated and having to fill their role in with a newbie due to the lack of time ro wait for the actors regeneration, this bringing light upon the source of Val's frustration.

You pondered how much worse his temper would escalate if you followed through with your planned actions. However, that thought didn't weigh heavily on your mind, as you were determined from the get go to mess with him.

Emerging from the shadows and skillfully navigating the set while evading the cameras' gaze, you approached Valentino. Grinning, he remarked, "You came to entertain papi, how sweet of you, amorcito~" standing up and expecting you to jump into his arms.

Surprisingly, you kept walking, engaging in conversation with a crew member, casually flirting. Val struggled to process the fact that ‘not only did you ignore him, but you did so to chat with some nobody!’

Oh boy, was he pissed, yet instead of his typical inclination to abandon work for a tantrum. He had remained seated, continuing to provide screen direction to his actors.

Now that he was well aware of your actions, he had no intention of losing the little game you were playing. Throughout the shoot, he feigned indifference, though his teeth subtly gritted each time he caught a glimpse of you so close to that random sinner.

Despite Valentino's own lack of shamelessness when it came to sleeping around, he was still the ever so possessive and obsessive man. And having so hands-on with someone else, especially in his presence, drove him to the walls.

After 45 minutes of takes and retakes, Valentino directed his staff to wrap up for the day. Immediately afterward, he approached you, gripping your wrist forcefully enough to surely leave a bruise. He then ushered you into the elevator, ascending to his shared luxurious living quarters and, ultimately, his room.

Once inside, he roughly threw you onto the bed, using one arm to pin both of yours above your head, another around your neck, while the remaining two swiftly removed your clothes.

As he approached your ear, his breath on your face, he scornfully remarked, “You wretched whore, think you go and flounce around, letting some fucker feel you up! ¿You’re so desperate to get fuck, verdad, puta?“ His voice carried disdain for your actions, yet beneath it, pent-up sexual frustration lingered.

Now having you completely undressed, Valentino briefly pulled away to retrieve something from his nightstand. It turned out to be a pair of long, dangling cuffs, ideal for securing you to his headboard. And that's precisely what he did.

Bound to the bedpost, you tested your restraints with a subtle tug, ensuring they securely held you in place. You wanted to confirm if there was any potential escape route, making sure you were aware of all possibilities.

In an instant, you felt Valentino's hands on you once more, grabbing your chest roughly, squeezing them hard enough to cause some pain but not enough to leave marks. His fingers then dug into your sensitive flesh, leaving bruises visible through the thin layer of sweat forming on your skin.

His touch was cold and calloused, contrasting sharply with the warmth emanating from his body.

"You little slut," he growled, his accented words dripping with contempt. "You think you can just throw yourself at anyone, disrespect me like this?" With each harsh word, his grip tightened further, pinching your nipples cruelly between his rough fingers.

Despite the pain, a shiver ran down your spine at the prospect of what was to come. You knew exactly how much control he had over you now, and it was exhilarating.

"No, Val," you managed to croak out between gasps for air. "I didn't mean anything by it, really."

But your words fell on deaf ears; instead, Valentino's hand moved lower, cupping your hips roughly before squeezing them forcefully. "You fucking liar," he snarled, his voice low and menacing. "You’re lucky your body is good at satisfying my needs, otherwise I would have already shot your ungrateful bitch ass!”

With that, you observed as he let his tongue swirl around his fingers, that action was followed by him teasing at your hole. “Wait Val, are you not gonna use lube—“

“Lube? Are y’a kidding me? ¡Shut the fuck up, puta! You should be crying tears of joy that I’m even prepping your undeserving ass.” Was all he said, before his fingers divulged into your tight hole, letting his other hand paw at your bits teasingly before pushing in a third finger inside you. The sensation was both pleasurable due to his aphrodisiac like spit and painful as it was all so sudden, it also felt as if he was claiming ownership over your body once more. Tears begging to role down your face at the stretch.

"You’re such a fucking slut, getting off on this, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice husky with desire yet stern. "You like acting like a desperate bitch in heat and piss me just so I can punish you, isn't that right, mariposa~"

As he spoke, he began to thrust his fingers in and out of your heat, pounding into you relentlessly. Each thrust caused your hips to rock forward, meeting his rhythm eagerly. Slightly letting reach down further, just close enough for his tongue to scoop your tears.

You could feel your body responding to the invasion, your hole tightening around his fingers, begging for more. Despite the pain, it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the pleasure building inside you.

"No! Stop, please, Val!" you pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, he added another finger, stretching you wider. The sensation was both terrifying and arousing, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Eso es," he growled, his voice laced with lust. "tómalo todo, you filthy whore."

Just as you thought you couldn't handle anymore, he removed his fingers, leaving your hole gaping open and vulnerable. With a cruel chuckle, he stood up and unfastened his pants, revealing his massive harden cock, thick and veiny, throbbing with desire.

"Time to teach really you a lesson," he said, his eyes burning with hunger. "Get ready to scream, puta."

Without further ado, he positioned himself at your entrance, aligning his tip with it.

"N-no, please, Val—" you managed to utter out before he slammed into you without mercy, filling you up completely.

The sudden intrusion caused you to cry out even harder in both pain and pleasure. Your body shook violently as he started to thrust in and out of you.

Each powerful thrust pushed deeper than before, stretching you further than and further. Your moans turned into high-pitched squeals of mixed agony and pleasure, and your juices coated his member as he pounded into you relentlessly.

The bed creaked under the combined weight of their bodies, adding to the primal rhythm of your session. Your body bounced wildly with each thrust, nipples hardening further under the harsh treatment.

Your legs were spread wide apart, while your hands were still bound tightly to the headboard, rendering you helpless against his onslaught. You couldn't move, couldn't escape the intense pleasure building up inside you.

As he continued his brutal assault, your body adjusted to the his dick, becoming slightly accustomed to the stretching. Your walls tightened around him, milking him eagerly.

He groaned, his hips slamming harder against yours, his cock pounding deeper than ever. His hand reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head forward forcefully, exposing your neck and throat.

"Open that filthy mouth," he growled, his breath hot against your neck.

You obeyed, parting your lips, and Valentino pulled back to spit directly into your mouth. The saliva was thick with frustration, a stark contrast to the usual sweet yet dominant taste of his kisses.

"Swallow it, bitch," he demanded, his voice full of desire. Your throat still constricted by one of his hands, yet you managed to swallow the bitter saliva, feeling it coat your tongue and throat.

The humiliation and degradation only served to heighten your arousal, your body quivering as his thrusts grew more frenzied. Your walls clenched around his shaft, urging him to go faster, harder.

"You like that, don't you? Of course you do!" he snarled, his grip tightening in your hair. "You love being treated like the worthless slut you are."

His words only served to fuel the fire inside you, your body shaking and writhing under his control. You couldn't help but whimper in response, your body betraying you with every moan.

Valentino continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, ‘almost there’ you though.

Suddenly, Valentino pulled out, leaving you gasping for air, feeling empty and needy.

He quickly untied you from the headboard, dragging you onto your hands and knees, positioning you on all fours. His grip tightened around your neck, choking you just enough to make your vision blur.

"Don’t think I didn’t feel you clench around my cock, you ain’t cumming that easily," he hissed, his voice full of lust.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath, your eyes watering from the lack of air. He wasted no time, thrusting back into you, filling you up once more. This time, his thrusts were even more brutal, the angle hitting your g-spot with each plunge.

The choking intensified, making it even harder to breathe, yet you found yourself moaning louder, your body desperate for release. Your legs shook, struggling to hold you up as he continued to pound into you.

"You're mine, not any other overlord’s or fucking prince of hell, and certainly not that pathetic fucker from earlier, you hear me, Y/N?" he growled, his grip on your neck tightening.

You managed a nod, your voice strangled by his chokehold.

Valentino keeps his hold on your neck, as he brings one of his hand down onto your ass, leaving a stinging impact. The pain was a welcome distraction from the choking, making your moans turn into cries of pleasure.

He spanked you repeatedly, alternating between cheeks, leaving handprints on your flesh. The stinging sensation only served to heighten your senses, your body trembling with every smack.

"You're going to cum for me, slut," he promised, his voice low and menacing. "And you're going to beg for it." Following his words, the hand that was then on your neck was now grabbing at your hair.

Your body tensed, the pleasure building to an unbearable level. Your inner walls clenched around his shaft, milking him relentlessly as he continued to spank and thrust into you.

You couldn't help but comply, your voice hoarse from the choking. "P-please, Val, I need to cum!"

He chuckled darkly, his thrusts becoming even more frenzied. "I said beg for it, you filthy little slut!"

"Please, papi, I need to cum, please! I need so, so bad, ‘can’t think! I just need to come, please, please, please Val!" you begged,

Your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment. Valentino smirked, his thrusts growing even harder, slamming into you with all his might.

Your body was at his mercy, your orgasm building to a crescendo. You could feel the wave crashing over you, your insides clenching around him, milking his cock as he continued to pound into you. One of his hands playing with your front.

"Cum for me, you worthless bitch," he growled, his own release nearing.

You cried out, your orgasm overwhelming you, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Valentino followed suit, groaning loudly as he filled you with his seed, your body trembling as he came inside you.

He pulled out, leaving you panting and shaking, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. Valentino stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead before lighting a smoke.

After taking some puffs at he grabbed your body once more, “V-Val??” You question in confusion, and the look he gives was so demeaning.

“Bitch, are y’a dumb? Don’t tell me you thought this was over already.” Was all he said before resuming….

Here you were, on the verge of passing out, body full of cuts, hand, teeth, and whip prints all over your body.

"You're lucky I love you," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of affection. "But don't you ever fucking test my patience again, amorcito."

You nodded, with the both of you knowing that it was a lie, you would definitely act out again.

Finally, your body lulled to dreamland.

⌁ Vox ⌁

Listen, despite his constant complaints about everyone's incompetence and having to clean up after their mess, he finds himself unable to do the same when it comes to you.

But, ‘fuck, did he adores your brattiness.’ It's not that he particularly enjoys dealing with your attitude; rather, it's the journey to the aftermath of your actions that captivates him. Overall, the right to fuck all of his day’s frustration into you!

Take, for instance, a meeting—perhaps not the most crucial, but still relevant, especially as it is concerning one of his latest products on the market.

Suddenly, you would barge into the meeting room, whining about him not giving you enough attention and accusing him of being all about work.

He would sweet talk you into silence until the meeting concluded, but that didn't imply you felt obligated to completely behave. As the meeting continued, you ended up seated on his lap, grinding yourself on his crotch.

Immediately after the meeting concluded and the conference room was emptied, he would lock the door. Then bend you over the spacious table, he pressed your head against the cold wood and proceeded to unleash a waterfall of insults, flowing from his mouth kin to water from a faucet.

He would fuck you so intensely that the both of you would almost lost sight of the initial cause. Almost, though you might have blurred the memory, he certainly hadn't. So as soon as his workday concluded, he would take you once again in his private quarters.

Forcing you to ‘repent for being such impudent slut,' reducing you to tears with his rough handling and verbal abuse.

Today was an incredibly dull day in hell. Wandering around the pentagram on the Vees' turf, you had an escort by your side as per Vox's requirement for taking a stroll outside.

There seemed to be nothing to do, or at least it felt that way. You managed to grab a cup of coffee, but beyond that, nothing fun was available, entering clubs required asking Vox's for his permission first. This ensured that he could assemble a larger entourage to guarantee your safety when you wanted to partake in the activity.

Despite your inclination to fuck with him, you refrained, recognizing that would be too much on his already overworked heart – he'd be more worried than irritated.

Opting for a tamer approach, you aimed to provoke him and get under his skin. Your goal was to distract Vox from his work, shifting his focus to entertain you. Making him jealous seemed the most effective strategy in your eyes, and that's where your escort, a tall and attractive hellhound, entered the scene.

Aware that Vox had eyes throughout the pentagram, particularly in this area, you initiated your plan with this knowledge in mind.

You strolled with your arm around the hellhound, falsely fawning over his looks and intellect, toying with his hair and even embracing him—all visible to Vox. Despite his busy schedule, Vox always kept an eye on you through the multitude of screens around pentagram city. And the sight of you so cozied up with the hellhound, left him seething.

What intensified the situation was your final gesture. As you bid farewell in front of the Vees' tower, you made the hellhound lean down for a thank-you kiss on the cheek, this fuelling your boyfriend's rage and insecurities. After that, you simply entered the building, mentally preparing for the upcoming interaction with Vox.

As you exited the elevator, Vox stood right in front, evidently having anticipated your return. As you locked eyes with him, the flames of anger and jealousy practically radiated from his gaze. It seemed your somewhat sadistic display had made a number on him.

"Hey, Vox, baby. How's it going? I thought you were too busy to step out of your office," you nonchalantly remarked, playing the coy card. Before you knew it, one of his clawed hands circled your waist, while the other firmly grasped your chin.

"Yeah, I was one incredibly busy man this morning, busting my ass to keep this shit show afloat. However, my partner seems to be utterly indifferent to it all. It looked as if they couldn't care less, with the way they were all over that hellhound-nobody," he remarks, his hand at your waist pressing into your skin.

"Oh, what on sweet hell could you be referring to?" you playfully feign innocence, this only aggravating your boyfriend's frustration.

"Do play games with me, whore. You know exactly what you were up to, the fact have eyes everywhere, and despite today's incident, I won't fire that guy because he's loyal." His face inches closer to yours, "If you were so desperate for my cock that you went out of your way to mess with me, you could’ve said so baby~ And I would’ve had you sucking me off as I work. But noooo, you just had to be be a a fucking slut and piss me off. Now let's see where that misbehaviour gets you, bitch.”

Now, bent over his lap, bottoms off, you endure the consequences as he delivers hits to your behind, while he casually sipped on a glass of whiskey;

You flinched slightly at each slap, but didn't dare to yell or struggle. Instead, you bit your lower lip and whimpered softly, your body trembling with each impact.

Your mind raced with thoughts of how much you deserved this punishment, how much you craved it.

"Please, sir, stop, it hurt ‘so much!" you whimpered between each strike, your voice cracking with each word. "I'll be a good, I promise."

"You’ll be good? Ha! What a fucking joke. You're lucky I don't break your pretty little neck right here and now. But since you asked nicely, maybe I'll i won’t hurt you as bad, this once. Now stand up straight and face me like the disobedient whore you are."

Slowly, you stood up straight, your legs trembling slightly as you awaited his next move. "Thank you, sir."

"That's better," he said putting his drink down on the nightstand, his voice laced with distain yet also a hint of satisfaction. "Now, strip for me."

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to push your luck or not. But then again, you knew better than to defy him twice in a row. Slowly, you took off your sweater, removing a layer of heat.

Next came the your top, you began to undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing your chest.

You stood there, naked and ass completely bare, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet somehow aroused by the power he held over you.

"Turn around," he commanded coldly. Reluctantly, you turned around, your ass wiggling seductively as you did so. "Now, get on the bed, all fours, and face the mirror."

You complied reluctantly, feeling your heart race with anticipation mixed with fear. You knew what was coming next, but it didn't make it any easier to endure. You could feel his presence looming over you, his heat radiating off his body.

"That’s it bitch," he praised, his voice dripping with false reassurance. "Now, spread your legs."

You widened your stance, exposing your parts to him, the scent of arousal filling the air around you. "That's a good whore," he complimented, his hand reaching out to grab your hair and pull your head back forcefully, so you would be looking straight at the mirror.

"Look at me," he growled, his eyes boring into yours through the reflection. "Do you understand what happens to misbehaving sluts like you?"

"No," you managed to croak out, your voice barely above the sound of your pounding heart. "I-I don't know."

"Then let me educate you," he said coldly, his hand reaching out to slap your ass hard enough to leave a mark. "This is what happens to disobedient whores like you." Meanwhile he had removed his other hand from your hair, using it it to play with your front, ‘how kind of him~’

With each slap, his hand left a stinging mark on your ass, making it throb with each impact. The pain mixed with the humiliation and arousal, making it difficult for you to think straight. You squirmed and whimpered, trying to escape the torment but knowing it was futile.

"Please, sir," you begged between slaps, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'll be good. Just give me something more, please."

"You're sorry now? Too late for apologies, greedy bitch," he spits. But after a moment of consideration, he seems to have a change of perspective. With a wide grin on his face, “Okay then,” he says, releasing you and getting himself confortable on the bed. “Crawl over here and worship my cock, and I’ll consider forgiving you."

With shaking legs, you crawled towards him, your eyes locked on his hardened member, throbbing with desire through the fabric of his expensive pants. You reached out and undid them, pulling down his boxers and wrapped your lips around the head. Taking as much of his cock into your mouth as you could.

"Fuck," he says a bit breathless, this followed by his hand roughly grabbing your hair and pulling your head back and forth, face-fucking you.

"That’s right, show me how much you want me, how much you need my cock inside you."

You moaned around his cock, sucking and slurping greedily, your tongue swirling around the head, trying to please him. Your hands reached up, grasping his thighs, leaving wrinkles on the fabric as you held on tightly.

"Good," he praised, his voice becoming more husky with desire. "Now, let’s go back to the previous position." He tells you, forcefully pulling you off his dick.

With that you had his hand at your hole, rubbing and teasing your entrance "Spread your legs wider, and besides that, don't move a muscle."

You obeyed, spreading your legs wider, exposing yourself fully to him. He continued to tease and torment you, spiting on his fingers, he then digs into your sensitive spot, making you moan and writhe in pleasure mixed with pain.

"Tell me you're mine, bitch, that you belong to me," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you'll do whatever I want, whenever I want."

"I'm yours, Vox," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking with each word. "I'll do anything you want!"

"That's better," he purred, his fingers leaving your hole and moving to your nipples instead. He pinched and twisted them mercilessly, causing you to arch your back and cry out at the painfully mix of sensation.

"Now, beg me to claim you as my own, not anyone else,"

"Please, Vox, claim me as yours," you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm yours, I belong to you. Take me however you want, whenever you want."

"Seems like your not completely braindead after all," he sorta praises, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Keep your legs open like that."

"Yes, Vox," you managed to mumble out, your voice trembling with fear and arousal.

“That’s it," his voice dripping with false affection. "You better be ready, because I’m still pissed."

Without warning, he grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back forcefully, exposing your neck to him. "This is for disobeying me earlier today," he growled, his sharp teeth shining in the light as he bit down hard on your neck. His teeth sank deep into your skin, sure to leave a mark.

As he moved to bite another spot, you writhed and squirmed beneath him, unable to escape his hold. His tongue darted out to clean up the blood that trickled down your throat. Meanwhile, his other hand reached between your legs one more, finding your front and playing with it vigorously, driving you wild with desire.

"You taste so fucking good, slut," he growled as his mouth was now at your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. "Don’t fucking play with me again like that what you did today, understand?"

"Yes, Vox," you managed to choke out between gasps, your body trembling with the combination of pain and pleasure. "I won’t.” A lie you were both aware of.

"That's a good bitch," he praised, releasing your neck and licking the mark he had left on your neck clean. His hands now solely focused on making you climax, in addition he would let out some electricity coarse through his and consequently your body.

Your body still trembling with the aftermath of his earlier assault, and his current touches weren’t helping you to stabilize. Your eyes rolled back as you felt close, ‘close to finally cumming.’

"Look at yourself, Y/N," he tells, his voice low and demeaning, well aware you couldn’t look at your self with the way we’re rolled back. "So fucking pathetic and needy for release… Beg for it.”

And so you did, "P-please, Vox... I need it so bad," you begged, your voice cracking with desire. "Please, let me cum."

His laughter reverberated in your ears as he continued to tease you mercilessly. "You want it so badly, don't you?" he asked, his fingers working faster and harder between your legs, more and more shocks divulging from him.

Your mind drifted away from reality as you felt the edge of orgasm getting closer and closer, your body tensing up in anticipation. "Please, Vox!" you cried out, unable to resist any longer.

"Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Do you understand your place in this world and how you belong by my side only?"

"Yes, Vox," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing.

And a simple, “Cum.” was all it took for you to completely let go and the waves of pleasure take your body over….

You winced in pain while observing your reflection in the mirror. Bruises and bite marks adorned your body, and your swollen ass bore the aftermath of his restless assault. Dried tears stained your cheeks.

Then, Vox tenderly stroked your head, followed by a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Love you, babes, but don’t fuck with me like that again"

An ‘okay’ was all you had said before falling asleep.

✮ Velvette ✮

Despite possessing a sharp tongue herself, she has zero tolerance for sassiness or misbehavior. It's strictly 'her way or the highway, bitch!'

A single word out of place, and she'd swiftly grab your face, calling you out and issuing a stern warning to behave, unless you wanted to witness her truly angry.

Naturally, her warnings failed to deter you from persisting in your bratty behaviors; 'it didn't before, so why should it now?'

Turns out getting on Velvette bad side, wasn't as smooth sailing as your moment of unwarranted confidence led you to believe.

You might have casually stroll through her studio, engaging in conversation with her employees, consequently diverting their attention from work.

All this, despite their already tight schedule that you were acutely aware of, thanks to Velvette's hours-long bitching about it.

Nonetheless, you proceeded with your plan. In all honesty, given the hectic schedule leading up to the fashion show, Velvette had minimal time for you. Despite her efforts to squeeze out a few moments, the occasional 30 minutes a day left you unsatisfied.

If she wasn't going to provide the attention you craved, ‘you were determined to seek it elsewhere, easy peezy—‘ or so you believed.

Spotting you getting overly friendly with one of her models, she would forcefully pull you into a changing room, securing your wrist against the wall with one hand while using the other around your throat.

Insult would escape her lips as she vowed to in-still proper discipline in you in a more physical manner if simple phrases like 'I'm busy right now' failed to do the trick.

After leaving distinctive bite marks on your neck and collar, and leaving you with panting breath and puffy lips from an intense make-out session, she would resume her work. However, she would promise to teach you a lesson later that night as she exited the dressing room.

Honestly, among all three of the Vees, she was the only one with the decency not to do you in public.

"Today is already a mess, but you had to make it worse, you ungrateful bitch," Velvette exclaimed before storming out of her office, leaving you alone, bound, with vibrators attached to stimulate your body.

Now, how did it come to this? Let's rewind to 10:30 a.m.;

Velvette had overslept by an hour, throwing her entire schedule off, and in the world of fashion and social media, an hour is practically an eternity.

Despite consistently projecting an image of superiority, she was visibly rattled by being late. Knowing she couldn't control or turn back time, she relied on meticulous planning to leash the day. She's a bit of a control freak, if you hadn't noticed.

After a challenging morning of tackling voicemails and addressing urgent missed calls, Velvette managed to regain her momentum. Things were sailing smoothly until Valentino made an appearance.

Apparently, one of his employees had been shot in the face the previous night, resulting in a disfigurement that rendered them unable to participate in the planned movie.

Clearly frustrated, Valentino stormed into Velvette's studio to bitch about the situation, throwing things around and even ripping apart one of Velvette’s workers. This compelled her to call in a backup model, with rates that would disrupt her budget.

Not only did Velvette find this model too expensive, but she also disapproved of their overly flirtatious attitude.

And that's where you entered the picture, making her already lousy day even more exasperating. You had awakened about 10 minutes after Velvette, disturbed by her loud conversations on the phone.

However, it didn't bother you too much since your morning routine wasn't significantly affected by the late wake-up call. As Velvette's sugar baby and partner, she paid you to prepare home-cooked meals, be there to listen to her vent, and look good. As long as you weren’t the one who’s oversleep, you were in the clear.

In contrast to her hectic morning, yours unfolded at a slow and leisurely pace. You took your time with skincare and haircare, even savoring the breakfast you had prepared while Velvette rushed through hers to catch the elevator to her studio.

Despite disliking seeing her frowning and rushed in the mornings, you had held your tongue, aware that she wasn't in the mood to be told so. Besides, you couldn't help but smile when you noticed she had still laid out your outfit of the day despite her hurried state.

As half past noon approached, you descended in the elevator to her studio, carrying a warm lunch. Knowing she needed some persuasion to take a break from work and eat, even though she paid you to prepare her meals.

When she initially dismissed you upon your approach, it wasn't surprising. That was the usual routine. However, typically, after 15-25 minutes, she'd relent. Well, that was the norm. This time, an hour had passed, and she still adamantly refused to pause.

Bored and hungry, the usual scene of you two enjoying a shared meal and exchanging affectionate words was absent. Normally, you'd be showering her with praise, boosting her pride and motivation with each word. ‘This was how things were supposed to be,’ you thought, yet here you were, seated on a plush satin-covered chair in a corner of the spacious room.

Contemplating leaving altogether, considering nobody in the studio cared about your presence except Velvette, and she was currently too busy to notice. As you prepared to depart, a manicured hand rested on your shoulder.

"Well, hello there, sweetheart. What's a pretty thing like you doing all alone?" inquired the attractive woman with whom you soon found yourself engaging in conversation with. Unbeknownst to you, she was the backup model Velvette disliked but had to call in.

What you did know was that from her flirty attitude, to the fact she was feeling you up and the eye fucking she was giving you, that woman was definitely hitting on you.

You also knew you should have told her that you were with Vel, but after feeling ignored and abandoned since this morning, it felt refreshing to have someone finally pay attention to you.

Around 2:25 p.m., Velvette finally took a break from work, envisioning a moment to share lunch with you and perhaps find comfort in your embrace.

However, that dreamy scenario shattered when she looked your way and spotted 'that bitch Bridgette Bastia' not only flirting with you, her hand around your waist, but also eating away at HER LUNCH.

To make matters worse, Bridgette whispered things in your ear, leading to giggles.

Unlike Valentino, Velvette wasn't one to tear employees apart; she preferred the more elegant approach of firing them.

However, witnessing the girl cozying up to you fueled a desire in her to do something far less refined. She wanted nothing more than stab the chick to death(well, second death).

When Velvette confronted you about the proximity between you and the model, you had the audacity to respond with a cheeky "What's wrong, babes? Thought you were busy," accompanied by a sly expression and tone.

In a fit of rage, Velvette pushed Bridgette away and seized your wrist, forcefully ushering you into her office and slamming the door shut behind you;

"Today is already a mess, but you had to make it worse, you ungrateful bitch. Allowing that cunt to touch you so freely! Are you that much of a whore that you can't stand to not have someone laying their hands on you for a moment?" Velvette spat at you, accentuating her anger with a furious fist slam.

She yearned to make you suffer for intensifying her frustration, but hitting wasn't her style, and mere verbal assaults wouldn't suffice. That's when what she considered a brilliant idea struck her.

Utilizing her clothing transformation ability, she effortlessly rendered you completely exposed and bound with a mere swipe of her finger. Your once classy outfit morphed into an intricate arrangement of tied ropes, forming a captivating star-shaped pattern across your chest, in addition to a blindfold obscuring your vision, leaving you helpless in both movement and sight.

To escalate matters, she procured a vibrator from her office drawer and a ball gag she had used for a recent BDSM-themed shoot.

"You want to play the part of a needy slut, so I'll treat you as such," she whispered into your ear.

Following that, she attached the vibrator to your parts, setting it to medium vibration. It was intense enough to make your body react, but not strong enough to get you off.

"Behave until I return," she stated before departing, leaving you alone and exposed in the secluded offices.

Feeling the sensation of the vibrations consuming you, you clung to the hope that she was merely bluffing and would return soon.

Yet, you were well aware not to rely on that expectation. Once Velvette made up her mind, nothing you could say or do would alter her decision. ‘Knowing her, it wouldn't be surprising if she left you in that room until the end of her workday.’

As time passed the vibrations continued to pulse through your body, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and arousal. Velvette's actions were surprising but far from unpredictable. She had always been domineering and controlling, but this was on a whole new level.

You couldn't help but wonder how long you would be left like this, 3 hours had already passed by now, 2 more and the day would be over. ‘Did she forget you were in there, or was she intentionally keep you bound and stimulated to teach you a lesson?’

Your mind began to race with thoughts of escape. With your hands tied, it wouldn't be easy, but surely you could find a way to free yourself. The sensation of vibrator was becoming more intense with each passing minute, making it harder to concentrate on your predicament.

As you wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a way to release yourself, the door to the office creaked open. You tensed up, hoping it was Velvette, ready to release you from your captive state.

But instead, it was none other than Valentino, a cloud of red smoke surrounding him, and a smirk appearing on his face as he took in the sight before him.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Valentino drawled with his condescending smirk, his eyes inspecting your bound and stimulated form. "I guess you've managed to piss off our dear Velvette, huh? Serves you right. I've always known you were spoiled little bitch that didn’t know their place."

He sauntered over to you, his black heel boots clicking against the hardwood floor. "Thought you could get away with flirting with another woman right in her studio? You're a dumber than I if you thought she'd let that slide."

He leaned in close, his breath hot and rank against your ear. "She's got a mean streak, you know. You should have just waited patiently instead of pulling that kind of stunt. I’d keep my eyes peeled and my mouth shut from then on if I were you."

With that, Valentino turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room now filled with smoke with your humiliation and aching body…

About 10 minutes later Velvette stormed into the office, her face twisted in anger. She had received a text message from Valentino, no doubt gloating about the situation he had just witnessed.

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene before her: you, bound and stimulated, with a look of both embarrassment and arousal on your face.

Velvette's lips curled into a sneer as she stepped into the room, a mixture of anger and amusement playing across her features. "What a fucking mess," she muttered under her breath, crossing the room to stand before you.

"I told you to behave, and this is what happens? Valentino gets a peek at your pathetic state," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She reached down and flicked the vibrators, making you flinch and moan softly around your gag.

"Oh, look at that, you're already soaking wet," she teased, her fingers tracing the contours of the vibrator attached to you. "I can't believe I have to deal with this. And here I thought you were smarter than that.”

Velvette couldn't resist the urge to taunt you further, her fingers gently probing your slick, throbbing intimates. She knew full well the effect it would have on you, and the way you squirmed only fueled her desire to humiliate you.

"You're so wet, darling. It's almost as if you enjoyed having Valentino see you like this," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'll make sure to tell him how wet you got from the embarrassment. Bet that moth fucker would love that, and so would you."

Obviously you weren’t into Valentino, and seeing like that you was the last you had wanted. So of course you violently shook your head in didn’t disagreement at the mention of her telling him more about your current interactions.

Thought being rendered Velvette’s pathetic bitch was hot, and an observer only reaffirmed the situation. ‘So maybe him walking in wasn’t ‘that’ unpleasant—‘

Her fingers danced against your most sensitive spots, eliciting strangled moans from you. "You're such a terrible liar, you know that? I can always see right through you," she continued, her voice a mixture of anger and arousal.

Despite your frustration and embarrassment, you couldn't deny the pleasure coursing through you with each touch from Velvette's skilled fingers. Her words and actions were cruel, yet they only seemed to heighten your arousal. As some sort of grace, she had removed the gag from you.

"It's not my fault he came in here," you whimpered . "I didn't invite him."

"Oh, please," Velvette scoffed, her fingers continuing their dance. "You're always looking for attention, always seeking validation from others. It's disgusting." Obviously she knew what she was saying was bullshit but it was fun taunt.

She increased the pressure, your body arching in response. "You should be grateful I haven't given you to him yet. He'd probably enjoy watching you squirm even more than I do."

Her words stung, but they also fueled your arousal. You knew she was right; you did crave attention, and Velvette's treatment of you only made it worse.

"Please, Velvette," you pleaded, your voice barely audible. "I'm sorry. Just let me cum please." Hours of stimulation plus the added stimulation had become to much for you, if you didn’t cum soon you would go crazy.

Velvette smirked at your plea, her fingers slowing down for a moment. "Oh, you want to cum, is that so?" she purred, stepping closer to you. "And what makes you thing you deserve it, huh? After your behaviour today, you’re gonna have to earn it."

She reached down and untying the vibration, removing it from your body altogether. "Now, you're going to eat me out and beg for me to make you cum. If you do a good job, I might just let you."

You felt a mixture of relief and panic as the vibrators were removed. While your body ached for release, the idea of pleasuring Velvette made you both nervous and excited, especially because your climax depended on it.

"Don't disappoint me," she warned, her eyes locked on yours. "I'm not in the mood for any more disobedience."

With a final glare, she stepped back, giving you room to kneel before her. Your heart raced as you watched her unzip her pants, revealing pretty pussy.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking between Velvette's smirking face and the task ahead of you. You could feel the tension in your body, the need to cum be touched overwhelming. But you knew you had no choice but to obey.

Mustering your courage, you lowered your head, your tongue darting out to trace the edge of Velvette's lace panties. The fabric was slick with arousal, and you knew she was already wet for you. She removed the arrival clothing herself as you were still bound.

With a deep breath, you began to lick and suck, your hands in fist to bring yourself some security. Velvette's hands threaded through your hair, guiding you as you tasted her.

"That's it, slut," she hissed, her voice low and dark. "Show me how sorry you are."

You redoubled your efforts, licking and nibbling at her skin, flicking your tongue against her clit. Velvette's breath hitched, her fingers tightening in your hair.

"Fuck, that feels good," she growled, her body arching into your mouth. "But you still haven't earned your orgasm."

You knew she was right, and you concentrated on pleasing her, your tongue working in tandem. Velvette's moans grew louder, her thighs shaking.

"You're doing well, Y/N," she said, her voice a ragged whisper. "But you still have a long way to go."

Velvette's voice was sharp, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled your head back. "Apologize for talking to that model," she demanded, her eyes like ice. "Admit that you were in the wrong,”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Saying the words would be humiliating, but you needed relief.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breathy. "I shouldn't have talked to her. I was wrong."

Velvette's fingers loosened, her eyes narrowing. “Better,” she said, her voice still icy. "Now finish making me come, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you cum."

You augmented your efforts, your tongue working with renewed vigor. Velvette's moans grew louder, her body trembling.

"You're close," you murmured against her folds, your own arousal reaching new heights, despite being the one getting dominated it was still hot to see her all shaky.

Velvette's body tensed, her moans growing louder as you brought her to orgasm. Her release washed over you, her juices coating your tongue and face.

"Good bitch," she panted, her body shuddering.

With that, Velvette pulled you to your feet, your bodies pressed together. Her fingers found your front once more, teasing you before starting to jerk you.

"Spread your legs," she ordered, her voice harsh. "I want a good view of your pretty body."

You complied, your heart racing. Velvette's hands played you like a fiddle, her gaze locked on your face.

"You're so wet," she said, her voice a mix of satisfaction and anger. "No wonder Valentino was so fucking smug about it."

Your body throbbed, the need for release growing stronger. Velvette's hands moved faster, her gaze never leaving your face.

"Beg me for it," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Beg me to make you cum."

You hesitated, your breath hitching. Asking for her permission felt like a betrayal of yourself, but you needed relief.

"Please, Velvette," you whispered, your voice shaking. "I need to cum. Please let me cum."

Her fingers paused for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so desperate, aren't you?" she purred, her fingers resuming their pace.

She increased her pace, her hands toying with you with expert precision. Your body ached, your moans growing louder.

"Tell me how much you want it," she commanded, her voice a low growl. "Tell me how much you need to cum."

You hesitated, your face flushing, but you needed her permission.

"I need it, Velvette," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need to cum so bad."

Her fingers slowed, her eyes never leaving your face. "You better make a good show, slut," she said, her voice tight. "Or I'll make you wait even longer next time."

Velvette's hands going faster, your body arching in response. You could feel the orgasm building, your breath coming in short bursts.

"That's it, Y/N," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Come for me."

With a final surge, you came, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. Velvette's hnads never stopped, her thumb brushing against your most sensitive part.

"That’s my good bitch," she said, her voice satisfied. "Now, I think it's time for a reward."

She pulled her fingers from your body, her eyes locked on your face. She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours. The kiss was rough, her tongue probing your mouth.

Velvette pulled away, her eyes still locked on yours. "You'll learn to behave next time, won't you?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.

You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm. As much as the experience had been humiliating and degrading, there was something thrilling about it, too.

"Yes, Velvette," you whispered, feeling both exhausted and satisfied.

With that she untied you, dressed you back up and sent you on your merry way to your shared room…

𝐕 Valentino & Vox 𝐕

Is one cock truly not enough for you, greedy whore~

Firstly, what possessed you to believe that engaging in any kind of relationship with both of them was an intelligent idea? Dealing with one is bad enough, but two? Are y’a crazy bitch?! (By the way, the bitch is me, I need these motherfucker to tag team me. Now that this is said, no more interruptions.)

Initially, this situation would be chaotic, not only due to the on and off relationship these two shared but now, you're also giving them attitude? ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?!’

The atmosphere would swiftly shift, with Val embodying his short-tempered self, and Vox grappling with frustration, both using you as some sort of stress reliever as they would fuck you until they were relaxed.

Picture this: Val once again enraged at an employee, Vox desperately attempting to pacify him. You entering the room, trying to innocently retrieving your charger left there this morning—‘nothing too troublesome, nothing to escalate their moods, right?’

Well, not quite. The catch is that your attire was entirely off the mark. Despite it being a Wednesday, the designated day for pink attire as Val had explicitly stated, your outfit missed the mark.

And it wasn't just Val overseeing your wardrobe; Vox had explicitly forbidden overly revealing clothing, especially when walking through the Vees' tower where anyone could catch an eyeful of you.

The burning question on both of their minds, as you discreetly attempted to grab your belongings and make your exit, was: 'Why the fuck were you in that skimpy red outfit?!' (It’s also that fucking radio demon’s color! — Vox)

It wouldn't take long for the situation to escalate into a heated argument. You asserting your independence, claiming the right to wear whatever you pleased, and their response insisting you belonged to them, hence you would dress as instructed. In addition, you would also insults their masculinity and critiques of their chosen attire for the day, as some sort of pay back.

Controlling your clothing marked an expression of their intense possessiveness. Despite its occasional annoyance, you found it fucking thrilling to be both their lover and plaything.

And as you would flip them off and attempting to leave the room, you'd feel a pair of clawed arms wrapping around you, digging into your flesh and forcefully pulling you back in. With that you would end up all tied up, and edge by those two shitheads. Malicious grins plastered on their faces.

If 'dressing like a depraved bitch in heat and act out,' was what you whole heartedly desired, then they would just have to mold you into a well-behaved little thing, one way or another.

Eventually, you'd be so thoroughly overwhelmed and overstimulated that the thought of defying them, or anything thought for that matter, would be far from your mind. But ‘hey, a win is a win!’

The day kicked off on a hot, particularly for your two Overlord boyfriends….

Valentino tenderly woke you with a kiss on your hair, while Vox used tender words to bring you back to reality.

"Y/N, sweetheart, time to wake up," Vox said, your body jerking awake. As you rubbed your eyes, Valentino left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to jaw. "We wouldn't want our sweet Y/N eating breakfast alone," he whispered into your ear.

You pulled away the covers, stood up, and let out a satisfied groan as you stretched. Continuing with your morning routine, you decided to spice things up when having taken a glance at your fully laid out outfit of the day.

Facing your fully clothed boyfriends on the heart-shaped bed, you sensually removed your pajamas, earning a whistle from Valentino and an open-mouthed stare from Vox.

Fully nude, you executed a reverse striptease, putting on your fresh clothes with the same sexed up attitude you just had when shedding yourself of your pyjama.

Once dressed, you completed your look, including jewelry, hair, skincare, and makeup. Slipping away to the kitchen, you avoided the customary morning kiss, leaving your lovers slightly irked.

Your deliberate avoidance continued at the breakfast table, and although they were busy, your actions left them with a slightly sour mood due to the absence of the usual morning ritual.

Meanwhile, you reveled in the small power trip of influencing the moods of these powerful men with such little actions.

Several hours had elapsed, and it was now lunchtime. Knowing Val, he was likely already enjoying his meal, while your TV-headed boyfriend, Vox, was likely too absorbed in his usual surveillance to remember the existence of food.

Being the thoughtful partner you were, you whipped up something delicious and nutritious, heading to the underground watching room before Vox could realize his hunger and order his usual unhealthy fast food.

Despite his argument that the food he consumed you considered ‘shitty’ was quicker and simpler to get a hold of, you knew the toll it took on his energy, sleep, and mood swings. So once you became close enough to speak your mind, you had 'aggressively kindly' nudged him toward a better diet;

As the lift platform halted, holding a picnic basket, you walked the catwalk towards Vox's chair. Catching him fixated on the screens with no food in sight, you leaned in and playfully said, "boo!" prompting a high-pitched scream from Vox, earning a smirk from you and a groggy reaction from him.

However, his demeanor swiftly changed as he received the first kiss of the day from you and noticed the basket in your hand, realizing it was likely a meal you had prepared to share.

Grabbing the basket, he placed it on his desk and pulled you onto his lap by the hips. You both began eating, with you feeding him – a domestic sight only accessible to you and the other Vees.

As you continued to feed Vox, you couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. You started grinding your hips against his lap, feeling his growing erection beneath you. Your hand slid up and down his thigh, sending electric shocks through his body. He groaned into his food, clearly enjoying the attention.

After you finished our meal, you stood up, playfully caressing the edge of his screen and smirking at the eager expression on Vox's face. "You know what, Voxy? You seem mighty stressed to me, and I feel it’s only right for me to do something about it, right?"

His eyes widened in anticipation, and you could see the hint of a blush on his TV screen. you leaned in close to his ear, your lips grazing the monitor as you whispered, "You wanted that, don’t you?. emphasizing your words by grinding against him once more.

Vox couldn't help but moan softly at the thought of what you had planned for him. His eyes darted around the screens, trying to find a way to distract himself from the tempting proposition, but that did nothing to help his heighten arousal.

As you began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, he bit his lip to stifle another moan. "I can't believe you're doing this right after lunch," he murmured, his voice trembling with desire. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that, right?"

You chuckled softly, a wicked glint in your eyes as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. Your fingers deftly undid the final buttons and pulled his pants down, revealing his already hard member. A smirk graced your lips as you teased him by trailing your fingertips along the length of his cock.

Vox's breath hitched, his eyes closing tightly as he tried to maintain control. You leaned in closer, the warmth of your breath causing him to shiver. "You're so hard for me, Vox," you taunted, but soon got to the task ahead.

You eagerly took Vox's length into your mouth, you tongue tracing the vein that ran down the underside of his member. You sucked him diligently, your cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head up and down, your eyes locked on his. Vox's fingers threaded through your hair, his breath coming in sharp gasps as the pleasure washed over him.

As the sensations built, his hips began to buck, his moans growing louder and more urgent. Just as he was about to reach his peak, you pulled back, a wicked grin on your face. Causing Vox to let out a dissatisfied whine.

So with a giggle, you stood up, you kissed the side of his monitor and quickly took your leave before he could fully register that you had left him panting and desperate.

As he regained his senses, his mood was certainly not the best,— let’s just say he was pissed when he was force to take care of the erection you had caused.

Continuing with your day, it was now a quarter past four, and you knew Valentino was still shooting. With the same mischievous spirit you had when you visited Vox, you headed to Valentino’s studio.

Luck was on your side as they were on a 10-minute break, so Val wouldn’t be bothered by your sudden arrival. In fact, he seemed delighted to see you, welcoming you with a hug that involved all four of his arms.

In return for his affection, you gave him some of yours, expressing it with a soft, sweet, and brief kiss. But of course, the overlord of lust and depravity wasn’t satisfied with such a short gesture, especially considering the state you’d put him in since that morning with your little stunt.

With two arms propping you up and the others encircling you, he pulled you in closer, one hand lifting your chin to bring your lips together. And oh, what a kiss it was.

Your kiss was far from gentle; it was a collision of desire and intensity, fueled by primal instincts and raw passion. He drew you closer, if that was even possible, his hands gripping you fiercely as your lips met with a hunger that bordered on desperation. There was an urgency to your embrace, a need to consume each other completely. Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, teeth clashing and tongues dueling in a fierce battle for dominance—a battle that Valentino obviously won.

His touch was possessive, leaving trails of fire in its wake as he explored every inch of your skin with a roughness that sent shivers down your spine. You responded in kind, your nails digging into his back.

Your kiss was a whirlwind of passion and desire, leaving you both breathless and panting when you finally parted.

As he lowered you down, you felt slightly dizzy, ‘must be Val’s toxins’. It was then that you noticed some staff members had stopped their work just to watch you, and you couldn't help but shoot Valentino a glare after assessing the situation as ‘that bastard knew you were being watch but didn’t say shit so that his employee stopped, even a simple wave from him would’ve have done the trick’. However, he only chuckled in response.

Taking his place in his director's chair, he stared at you intently before patting his lap. “Won’t you stay with papi and watch? After all, you did spend lunch with Voxxy. Won’t you do this for me, cariño?” he asked, his request momentarily distracting you from your thoughts.

It took you a moment to comply, your mind still processing the mention of lunch with Vox. ‘Had Vox told him what you’d done? Probably not, knowing Vox wouldn’t admit to being played like a fiddle by you. Then how—oh yeah, Vox took a selfie while you were feeding him, and he likely sent it to Val.’

With that revelation out of your mind, you settled into Valentino’s lap, one of his arms around your waist while the other had already started traced patterns on your thigh.

As the shoot began, you decided that Valentino should also get some of your ‘special attention’. With that in mind, you started to roll your hips. However, Valentino was quick to stop you in your tracks, his hand on your waist drawing you closer while the one on your throat and another on your thigh roughly squeezed the flesh as a way to say ‘stop’.

You listened to his warning, for a moment... stopping for 5 minutes or so before starting again, earning a hitched breath from the tall moth. His hold became more aggressive, slightly bending forward to whisper in your ear, “You’re really testing my patience, mi amor, and I’d suggest you stop unless you want me to fuck you right here and there in front of everyone.”

But you replied coyly with, “I don’t know what you're talking about,” emphasizing your words with another roll of your hips.

Despite Valentino being a sex maniac, just like Vox, he had grown too possessive to let others see you in such an intimate position, not even as punishment. So his current threat was all bark and no bite, and you both knew it.

He quickly realized that you knew, which caused him to ‘tsk’ and sit back. The man was too prideful to admit you were affecting him to the point where he couldn’t focus on his work properly. So his plan was to wait it out, to wait until the end of the shoot so he could put you in your place.

But by now, you knew him and his work too well. So, 30 minutes before it was over, you got up, informing Val that you had to go on a ‘bathroom break’. Of course, he allowed it, playing the role of the unaffected and non-retaliating.

But the catch that Valentino hadn’t anticipated was, this wasn’t a bathroom break; you had just run away without him noticing, leaving him to take care of his hard one just like you had done with Vox.

You giggled as you sat on your bed, thinking about how he would react when the shoot finally ended and everything clicked. And since you were already long gone, for time efficiency, he would just move on to the next shoot instead of chasing after you.

After all, he was on a time crunch; he probably only had 20 minutes or so of a break to take care of himself, definitely not enough time to find you and fuck you.

It was now 6 p.m., and you were out and about with Velvette, having grown close through your relationships with the two boys. She found you fun, and you could say the same about her. So it wasn’t out of the ordinary when she sent a text to each of them that she was taking ‘their bitch out to party’. As usual, she didn’t listen when they told her not to; she wanted to party with her bestie, and their boyfriends definitely weren’t going to stop her.

So there you were, clubbing hard, singing along loudly, dancing your ass off, and drinking in a manner that was definitely overindulgent, but who cared? You weren’t going to die from it.

As you were chatting it up with Velvette, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with quite the good-looking hellhound. He introduced himself as Marco and thought you were cute. He wanted to see if you could get drinks together, maybe exchange numbers. He was sweet and wasn’t forcing himself on you or anything, so you spoke honestly to him.

“I’m going to level with you, Marco,” you said. “Okay,” he replied.

“You seem like a very sweet hound, but I’m currently in a wonderful relationship with the loves of my life, or is it afterlife?—anyways, what I mean to say is thanks for the offer, but I can’t accept.” You rambled due to the alcohol already in your system, and Marco expressed that he understood and was happy for you.

But then an idea came to mind. “But could I actually ask you a favour, Marco?” you inquired.

“Sure, as long as it’s not too extravagant of an ask,” he replied.

“Never. Anywho, I was wondering if you’d be down to take a selfie with me, nothing too intimate, but you’d be holding me in it, like a really close hug. I want to tease my boyfriends, and that’ll definitely do the trick,” you told him.

He pondered for a second, then a “Sure, why not?” came out.

And so the selfie-taking proceeded. You followed through on your words, nothing but his hands around your waist. You knew that would get another rise from your ‘tv head and moth man’ when they saw your new Sinstagram post.

Were they going to do anything to Marco? No. You’d say something along the lines of ‘I’ll never forgive you’ and give them the cold shoulder if they did. Plus, they’d know this was just teasing, nothing more. If you had intended to make them furious, you would have kissed the guy.

Putting your phone down after posting the selfie with a couple of different pictures from the night, you soon felt it buzz. Looking at the notifications, they were texts from Vox and Valentino. But in your drunk and teasing mindset, you decided to ignore them, just shooting a glance at Velvette, which she understood meant ‘you can text them if they ask about me, but I won’t be doing it.’

She only rolled her eyes at that look but then chuckled at the thought of the state you probably had Valentino and Vox in, because those guys had some serious jealousy issues.

9 p.m. had hit, and you and Velvette had decided you were good for the night. So, calling your driver, you waited by the curb.

“You know they’re going to fuck the shit out of you for that little picture,” she said before taking a hit of her vape.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. That’s why I already left both of them high and dry separately today,” you replied. She looked at you, surprised for a second, then burst out laughing.

“Bitch, you’re crazy! That’s why I like you, though.” With that said, the car had finally arrived, and in about 15 minutes, you were back at the tower.

Velvette had shot you a teasing ‘good luck’ once you both had stepped out of the elevator on the last floor.

You took off your shoes before entering your room. Pushing the door open, you were met with your two boyfriends sitting on your bed, staring straight at you. They must have been waiting for your return.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence, Val. It’s our little professional photographer," Vox remarks, his tone laced with amusement and spite.

"Oh, indeed, Vox. It seems that truly adore the art, don't they? So much so that they’ll snap a pic at any given opportunity, regardless of who they're doing it with." Val adds, his words carrying a subtle innuendo.

"Oh please, it was just a hug," you retorted dismissively as you turned away from them, starting to change out of your outing clothes.

"Just a hug? JUST A HUG?!!" Valentino's voice rose with indignation. "That mutt was practically fucking you!" he exclaimed. Despite Valentino's tendency to exaggerate, he was jumping to the guns, Marco hadn’t even been groping you, but you refrained from pointing that out.

"That hellhound shouldn’t have been in your vicinity, point blank," Vox added, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Valentino's statement.

"You two are such babies, you should stop fussing over a little selfie already," you scoffed, turning your head to look at them as you removed your last article of clothing.

Retrieving a towel from your drawer, you mentally decided it was time for a shower. In their minds, however, they were planning to make you pay for that picture and for teasing them earlier in the day.

In your mind, you were now going to take a shower, seeking solace in the calming embrace of warm water. However, in their minds, they had already made a silent pact to exact retribution for the audaciousness you had when snapping that picture and your teasing behavior throughout the day.

As you reached for the bathroom door handle, on of Valentino's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards the bed. His grip was firm but not painful, leaving no doubt that you were not going anywhere until they had made their point clear. Vox stood up and joined him, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he towered over you.

"We'll show you what happens when you play with fire, brat," Valentino growled, his voice low and threatening. Vox nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring Valentino's anger.

Before you could protest or plead, they had you pinned down on the bed, your struggles met with their iron grip. Their faces hovered over yours, their anger palpable in the way their eyes burned with intensity.

Vox and Valentino started discussing strategies on how best to punish you for your transgressions, right in front of you.

"We need to teach them a lesson," Vox declared,"Something... memorable."

"Agreed," Valentino chimed in, tightening his grip on you as you tried to shuffle around "Something... painful."

"Yes, yes, something painful," Vox echoed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "We need to make sure they knows who the boss is here."

In unison, they nodded ominously, their plans solidifying rapidly.

"This is what happens when you toy with us, bébé~" Valentino hissed, his free hand reaching for a belt that he kept nearby. The sound of leather hitting flesh echoed through the room as he brought it down on your thighs, the sting of each blow making you yelp in pain and surprise.

Vox watched with approval, his own arousal growing as he saw the marks forming on your skin. He moved closer, his fingers tracing the lines that Valentino was creating.

"You see this, doll," Vox purred, his voice low and seductive, "you see what you make us do when you behave like a brat. We don’t like hurting you,” a lie. “but can’t just let you do whatever, we do not tolerate petty disobedience, I thought you’d knew that by now."

His fingers trailed down to your chest, playing your now perked nipples. You squirmed beneath their touch, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your veins.

Valentino paused momentarily, the belt falling limply to the side. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered "Remember this, cariño. We may love you, but that doesn’t mean you got free reins to be a bratty ass bitch."

With that, he released you, stepping back to allow Vox his turn. The television-headed demon's gaze never left your face as he took the belt from Valentino, his eyes flickering with anticipation.

Vox cracked the belt across your ass, the sharp sting catching you off guard. You cried out, your body arching involuntarily as the pain seared into your skin. But then, an unexpected warmth spread through you, a strange mixture of pain and pleasure that you couldn't quite comprehend.

Valentino watched from the corner of the room, his eyes locked onto your reactions. As you writhed beneath Vox's hand, he began undressing, slowly revealing his muscular form. He wore nothing but a pair of black silk boxers that did little to hide his arousal.

Once naked, he walked over to you, his steps confident and assured. He picked up a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand and began to tie your hands behind your back, securing your mouvement firmly. As the cuffs tightened, a jolt of arousal was sent through you.

Vox continued spanking you, alternating between the belt and his open palm. Your skin turned a darker shade, a testament to your punishment. Yet, despite the pain, you couldn't deny the rush of lust pulsating through your veins.

Finally, Vox stopped spanking you, satisfied with the sight of your reddened cheeks. He stepped back, admiring his work, before whispering softly, "Such a bad little thing, aren't you? But don't worry, we won't leave you like this. We're going to give you what you deserve."

Valentino knelt beside you, his eyes glinting with desire. He gently stroked your hair, whispering soothing words into your ear, "It's okay, amorcito. It's all going to be okay. Just let go."

Their words, combined with the physical pain, pushed you further into a state of heightened arousal. You felt your body responding to their dominance, your core throbbing in anticipation.

Valentino stood up, motioning for Vox to join him. They exchanged a heated glance, their shared desire evident. With a nod, they moved towards you, Vox taking your legs while Valentino held your torso. Together, they positioned you on your knees, your ass lifted invitingly.

Valentino reached for a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand, pouring a generous amount into his hand. He rubbed it on your entrance, preparing you for what was to come. Your breathing hitched as his cool touch met your heated core, sending shivers down your spine.

Quickly after, Vox moved behind you, his erection hard and ready. He positioned himself at your entrance, pausing briefly to grab your hair and look into your eyes. There was a mix of fear and lust in your gaze, and he smirked, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.

With a swift thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You gasped, your body adjusting to the invasion. His movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust pushing deeper inside you.

Valentino watched intently, his cock equally hard and ready. He practically couldn't wait for his turn, but first, he wanted to see the full effect of their domination on you.

Vox increased his pace, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. His grip on your hair tightened, his other hand holding onto your hip for support. Each time he slammed into you, your breasts bounced enticingly, drawing Valentino's attention.

"Look at them, Vox," Valentino said, his voice thick with desire. "See how much they wants this. How much they needs this."

Vox grunted in response, his movements becoming more erratic. He pulled you back, using your hair to lift your head, and you found yourself looking straight into his cyan-colored eyes.

"That's it, whore," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "Take it like a good little slut."

Valentino joined in, running his hands over your body, pinching your nipples roughly. His touch was both tender and cruel, eliciting moans from you.

"You like this, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a soft purr. "You love when we’re mean to you, bitch~"

Vox then pulled you up into a chokehold, applying pressure to your throat. You struggled slightly, but the combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming. Your body arched involuntarily, your climax approaching rapidly.

The pressure on your throat intensified, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Your vision blurred, your world narrowing down to the sensations coursing through you. Everywhere Vox touched felt electrified, every thrust of his hips driving you higher.

"Cum for me, bitch," Vox snarled, his voice hoarse with desire. Valentino continued to play with your nipples with his top hands, as his bottom ones took care your front.

Your release was imminent, the pressure building within you threatening to burst. You mewled, your muscles clenching around Vox, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave.

As you climaxed, Vox continued to choke you, his movements becoming wilder. You felt him swell inside you, his soon reached his climax.

Finally, he came, roaring your name as he filled you completely. He held you in the chokehold for a few more seconds before releasing you, allowing you to catch your breath.

Your breathing was hieratic as you felt your body plot down against the mattress. But to bass for you they didn’t intend on letting you rest.

Valentino stepped up behind you, his erection still throbbing. Without warning, he entered you from behind, his movements slow and deep. The sensation of being filled so so only after your first climax was quite the overstimulating one.

Without warning, Valentino pushed your head into the mattress, your face buried in the soft fabric. You gasped, feeling the sudden loss of control. He spanked you again, the sting mixing with the lingering ache from earlier.

"That's right, bitch," he growled, his voice rough. "Stay quiet. Take what I give you."

His thrusts became faster, his hips slamming into you with each movement. You could feel Vox's semen leaking out slightly, only to be replaced by Valentino's relentless pursuit.

Each strike of his hand echoed through the room, punctuating the sounds of your moans and their grunts. The pain and pleasure merged, creating a symphony of submission.

Valentino's fingers dug into your hips, gripping tightly as he pounded into you. Your body responded, moving with his rhythm, your inner walls milking him with each thrust.

Despite the pain, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of being owned, of being taken by these powerful beings. Their dominance over you was absolute, and it excited you beyond measure.

As Valentino neared his own climax, he tightened his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more frantic. Your body shook beneath him, your second orgasm building quickly.

"Come for me, slut," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you scream!" He said as he pulled your hair, contradicting his previous statement about wanting you to be quite.

You complied, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your entire body convulsed, your nails digging into the mattress as you screamed his name.

Valentino roared, his release pulsing inside you. He stayed still for a moment, catching his breath before withdrawing slowly.

As he stepped away, you collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. The room was silent, save for your labored breaths.

Before you could recover, Valentino had wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He entered you from behind, his size stretching you wide. Your body trembled, your nerves overwhelmed by the dual invasion.

Following suit, Vox positioned himself in front of you, his erection already hard once more. Without warning, he slid back into you, his length filling you from the front. You cried out, your body protesting the overstimulation.

"Shhh, calm down ‘bébé’," Valentino whispered in your ear, his voice husky with desire. "We're not done with you yet."

Vox started thrusting, his movements slow and measured. Valentino followed his lead, their rhythms meshing perfectly. Your body bounced between them, caught in a vice of pleasure and pain.

They didn't care about your limits, your protests falling on deaf ears. Instead, they reveled in your discomfort, their own desires guiding their actions.

Their faces were etched with concentration, their eyes locked onto yours. They seemed almost hypnotized, lost in the act of taking you.

As they continued to thrust into you, their movements became more synchronized. Their bodies moved as one, their hips slapping against each other. In sync, they leaned in, capturing each other's lips in a fierce kiss.

Tongues tangling, their passion was palpable. It was a display of obsession and possession, leaving you breathless.

But their focus wasn't solely on each other. With one hand, Valentino gripped your hair, twisting it gently. Vox reached around, caressing your chest roughly.

Their kiss broke, Vox shifting his gaze to you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved deep, claiming you as his own.

When he pulled away, Valentino took over, his lips crushing against yours in a brutal kiss. His hands wandered, cupping your face, and then moving down to your neck.

Between kisses, they continued to fuck you, their bodies merging with yours. Their actions spoke volumes - you belonged to them, and you should know better than to fuck with them.

With each kiss, your body grew more sensitive, your mind clouded with lust. Vox and Valentino fed off your reactions, their desire escalating.

"That's it, baby," Valentino murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "Let go for us." He said as he let his hands wonder down to your front to increased the sensation.

Vox nodded, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Yes, cum for us."

Between kisses, they increased their pace, their movements relentless. Your climax built quickly, your body shaking beneath them.

Finally, you came, screaming into Vox's mouth. Their thrust not relenting as they chased their own orgasm.

As Vox and Valentino neared their climaxes, their thrusts grew more desperate. Sweat dripped from their bodies, mingling with yours. Their gazes locked, a silent agreement passed between them.

With a roar, Valentino thrust deep inside you, his release spilling within you. At the same time, Vox claimed you once more, his cum joining lover’s.

You all panted heavily as they remained inside you, enjoying the aftermath of their conquest.

In the silence that followed, you lay between them, exhausted and spent.

Some ‘I love you’s were shared as you all drifted off, it looks like showering will a ‘tomorrow’ type of task…

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