#until now i have never made that connection and it pisses me off

[bbydoll18xx]

Brats Get Punished

You choose to be a brat. Punishment ensues.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Themes: slight angst, smut (18+)

I got wine drunk and came up with this. This is pure filth. I'm so sorry

Today had fucking sucked. 

No. Scratch that. The whole week had fucking sucked.

You held back tears as you walked through uconn’s campus, heading back to your dorm. All you wanted was to be taken care of. This week had been wracked with a million assignments, frustrating exams, and  family drama you couldn’t escape, even all the way in Connecticut. The cherry on the top of the miserable sundae was your lack of Paige. With basketball season ramping up and finals nearing, you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in five whole days. 

It felt like five days without air.

The thought makes your heart ache once again, and you throw on your sunglasses to hide the redness of your swollen eyes.

The bitter northeastern cold of early December made you shiver as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets.

It was finally friday. 

Tonight you could escape into the vastness of Paige’s blue eyes. You had no thoughts when you were with her, just habitual feelings of comfort and intimacy you couldn’t get from anyone else. 

You were looking forward to cocky smirks, long, talented fingers, and a mouth that had a power to shut you up in more ways than one.

Fuck.

The thought makes your bottom lip quiver. Usually, you had a little bit more of a general grip on things; you could handle your emotions perfectly fine, thank you very much. But the overwhelming shitiness makes you want to pout and whine until you get your way. You felt sorry for anyone dealing with your bratty ass tonight. Namely Paige, but you knew she could handle it.

Trudging up the stairs to your dorm and stomping into your room, you dramatically fling yourself onto your bed. You lay there momentarily before you hear a gentle knock on your door.

Groaning, you head to open it and find Paige standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. You barely have time to register why she would be anything but ecstatic to see you before launching yourself at her taller frame.

She stumbles back at the sudden force of your body but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around your middle and bringing you into a tight hug.

You let out all the air and frustration that had been pent up over the last week as soon as you connect.

“Paigey,” you whine, “I missed you so fucking much.” Your hands roam her body, trying to cling to her in an effort to never let her go. 

“I missed you, too, baby…” she trails quietly. 

That was weird. Why wasn't she excited to see you? Paige was always characteristically exuberant around you, and she was excitement personified. This Paige was not your Paige, and your stomach rolled with worry.

“Geno is having us do an extra practice tonight,” she explains carefully.

Your heart drops into your ass. No wonder she seemed off.

As you realize that you would be spending yet another night alone, your eyes well up with thick, hot, and angry tears. You spin on your heels, retreating back into your room in defeat.

“C’mon, talk to me. It’s not like I want to be away from you. As soon as I’m done with practice, I’ll come right over. I’ll even pick up your favorite ice cream,” she tries to reason.

“W-want you now,” you stutter out. Your words start to slur together with frustration. “Don’t even care anymore; just go away.” 

Your venomous words don't dissuade the pang in your heart. Of course you didn’t want her to go. And of course you still cared. But you were feeling like a brat and you were a glutton for punishing yourself.

“Ya know, you might want to watch your attitude,” Paige grits out. Her jaw tenses in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together. 

Then you remember you were supposed to be pissed. You roll your tear-filled eyes and cross your arms with a huff. This exasperates your blonde girlfriend even further. 

“Once you stop acting like a fucking brat, give me a call, and then I’d be happy to give you some attention. Stop punishing me for shit I can’t control.” Paige says with an impressive amount of restraint. She turns around to leave with one last disappointed glance in your direction.

In her harsh exit, you fall apart. 

Sitting in your dark room, cocooned in your sadness, guilt, and general horniness, you watch the hours slip by. 

8:00

9:00

10:00

Your eyes are tired with both sleep and grief by the time the clock turns to 11:00, but you can’t ignore the way you were pulsating with desire just thinking about Paige.

Your brain wrestles with either keeping up your facade of nonchalance and running to Paige, apologies spilling from your mouth with desperation. You were so damn stubborn, never wanting to back down, but you could barely think anymore. 

Your fingers dance around the hem of Paige’s soft t-shirt you had stolen. You fight with yourself internally before pulling it over your head with a groan. Your sweatpants quickly follow.

Dating Paige meant there was rarely a need for self-pleasure. Why would you when she was always at your beck and call?

Huffing at the sheer stupidity of the situation, you close your eyes and bring one hand to your left tit, rolling your nipple experimentally. It feels nice, but you needed more. 

You always needed more.

Your right hand trails down your stomach sensually, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and lands on the swollen nub that holds all the pleasure. Circling your clit, you try to coax out an orgasm. Your pussy was sopping after spending the evening thinking about Paige, but nothing was clicking for you. You let out a small whine of annoyance.

Your hand felt too small, too cold, too wrong. 

Nevertheless, you were fucking desperate. The unkindness of the past week had been even more cruel to your sex life. You hadn’t cum in what felt like forever. You needed this. 

Hesitantly, you enter a finger into your dripping hole. Again, it feels nice, but the angle is all too wrong. If Paige was here, you’d already be panting like a whore, begging for another finger and her tongue.

You pull out of yourself, sucking the wetness off your finger before throwing yourself back down onto the pillows. 

‘Fuck,’ you thought. It was time to surrender. You needed Paige.

Before you can overthink some more and chicken out, you feel your body pull itself out of your dorm all the way to Paige’s apartment. It's as if you have no control over your idiotic, lovestruck brain.

Paige was patient, and she was so in love with you, but you knew you’d be doing some serious groveling tonight. ‘And hopefully having some seriously good sex,’ you think slyly. 

Feeling bashful, you knock on her door. You knew she was out of practice now, and you were ready to give up your tortured whining in order to finally get what you needed. 

Paige opens the door, looking down at you with a knowing smirk. “Lemme guess, babe. You need me,” she purrs in a mocking tone that makes you want to jump her bones.

You want to protest, but you know it would be no use. She knew she held all of the power over you, and she was not going to let you walk away unscathed tonight.

“Baby, I‘m sorry,” you sigh, trying to appear as solemn as you could. “This week just got the best of me. It’s not your fault you had practice.” You really were sorry, but you were more concerned about fixing the dampness in your panties than you were about coming off as regretful about your past attitude.

Paige reaches out a hand to draw you in closer, pulling you into her familiar warmth. You could feel yourself melt into her, worries evaporating quickly. Her eyes softened at your apology, but you could still see a sadistic glint in them. 

You were so getting it tonight. You didn’t care as long as it ended with your back arching off Paige’s bed, her name leaving your lips continuously, like a prayer.

The hand that was resting on your hip trails up to rest loosely around your throat. Her thumb caresses your carotid pulse, which was pounding dangerously in her wake. She smirks at your blatant anticipation before leaning down to suck right at her favorite little spot just under your ear.

You moan lasciviously, almost causing you to miss the words she whispers next.

“Get your ass on my bed. You know what position I want you in.”

Your face heats up, and your stomach lurches. You knew you were getting the dominant version of your girlfriend tonight, but to this extent? This side of her rarely came out. You swallow thickly as you grasp the consequences of just how far you had taken things earlier.

As much as Paige’s dominant side made you feel timid, your desire to get thrown around and fucked out took over.

“Now, you little slut,” she all but growls, as you hesitate, your thoughts and apprehension momentarily stilling you. The degradation of her words ignites a flame in the pit of your belly once more, and you fall headfirst into subspace. 

You stumble into her bedroom, throwing your sweatshirt over your head haphazardly and shimmying out of your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your nearly naked figure in her full-length mirror, taking a second to admire the swell of your ass and the heaving of your chest. 

Leaving you in nothing but a plain black thong, you kneel on Paige’s bed, your ass resting on your heels in a display of submission that had you wanting to be good, so good, for your blonde girlfriend. 

Paige leaves you waiting for a few minutes, making you squirm anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect with her tonight. The last time you acted this childishly, you weren’t allowed to cum. ‘Bratty whores don’t get to cum,’ you recalled her whispering in your ear mercilessly. 

‘If that was the case tonight, I might just die,’ you think as you desperately shift your thighs in an attempt to feel an ounce of pleasure.

Soon enough, Paige strolls in looking smug at your visible distress.

“My poor baby,” she pouts derisively, eliciting a whine from your mouth at the mention of you being her baby. “Why don’t you tell me why you decided to come apologize tonight. I know it wasn’t just because you were feeling guilty.” She looks up and down at you expectantly, waiting for a bullshit excuse she knew she was getting.

You realize that lying would get you absolutely nowhere with her tonight, and you decide to be honest. “Need you,” you mumble, you face feeling hot once more. “Tried touching myself. Didn’t feel as good as you…” you trail off. 

Paige’s face lights up at this admission, and she grins sinfully. “Get on your back and show me how you tried to touch yourself,” she softly demands. She had tried to get you to masturbate in front of her before, but you had always been too embarrassed to do so. It felt so ridiculously private, and the thought of her seeing your failed attempts to get off without her made you want to hide under the blankets. 

“C’mon, baby girl,” she coaxes. “If you want me to touch you, you gotta touch yourself first.” 

You stare at her, jutting out your bottom lip in protest before sighing in defeat. You adjust yourself against her pillows at the top of the bed and spread your legs teasingly. 

‘Might as well make a show of it if I have to do this,’ you think, trying to find a way to feel more comfortable with the sheer act of perversion.

Paige settles in on the edge of the bed. She had the perfect view of your soaked pussy, still hidden beneath your black thong, and of your peaked nipples, begging to be licked and bitten. You run your hands up and down your body a few times, just as you had earlier in your bedroom, trying to put on a performance to appease your girlfriend. You needed her to be in the best possible mood.

After spending a few moments tending to your tits, squeezing them with an appropriate amount of vigor, you take off your panties and throw them to Paige. She catches them, and upon seeing how soaked they were, says, “this is turning you on, isn’t it? You like having to touch yourself in front of me. Such a naughty, little slut."

You bite your lip, but nod reluctantly. This was fucking embarrassing, but it turned you on, and you hated having to admit that to her. 

“Knew it,” she responded arrogantly. “Keep going.” 

You dip a finger into your folds and swirl the wetness around your weeping hole before bringing it back up to your needy and swollen clit. A few circles around it and you’re already letting out puffs of air. Just the sight of Paige in front of you has you panting. 

You sneak a glance at Paige, seeing her enthralled by your performance. The idea of being able to please her makes you want to keep going, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to be responsible for your own orgasms tonight. Your pussy belonged to her.

“Please, P,” you moan. “I need you. My fingers aren’t enough.” 

She pretends to think about it before shaking her head with a stupid grin on her face. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. You let out a huff in annoyance before entering two of your slim fingers into your pussy and thrusting harshly upwards towards your g-spot. 

You knew you’d never really had any luck getting off this way. The angle was too weird, and your fingers were too small to really get you anywhere. The only g-spot you could reach was Paige’s, and you whimper at the lack of pleasure you were getting. 

Feeling incredibly frustrated, you make eye contact with the blonde, and plead with her to do something, anything, to get you closer to the finish line.

“Want some help?” Paige asks smugly. You desperately nod. “Beg,” she says shortly. 

Fuck. You had told yourself you wouldn’t beg tonight. But you were feeling hopeless, so if she wanted you to beg, you would. 

“Please, please, please, Paigey, I'll do anything for you, just touch me,” you moan brokenly. “Just need you, only you, don’t want anyone else, please, baby, please,” you let out, words overlapping each other with a vicious need to prove to her that you needed her with your whole being. 

It must’ve done the trick because before you can even register what is happening, she's on top of you, fervently kissing you and groping your tits. You preen at the attention, finally getting what you’ve wanted and needed all week, and kiss her back. You welcome the taste of her tongue in your mouth, getting drunk on the way she alternates between kissing your lips and your neck.

As she trails her kisses down your neck to your chest, you watch her lips close over a nipple, sucking it in gently before biting down, causing a gasp to leave your now swollen lips. Paige grins wickedly at your reaction, but she continues her descent towards your drenched pussy.

You buck your hips to try and meet her mouth, but she presses them back down with strong hands and avoids the area altogether. She presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your inner thighs, making you squirm even more.

Her touch, or lack thereof, made you want to cry. You needed more stimulation or you might just die.

Paige studies your wetness for a moment before meeting your eyes. She has a mischievous glint in her eye that makes your belly turn in anticipation. 

“I’ll eat you out, baby,” she simpers, “but you still need to be punished.”

You wrinkle your brow in confusion. This wasn’t punishment?

“What’d you mean?” you ask reluctantly.

Paige sits up and pats her lap. “Get your ass over on my lap. Since you decided to act like a brat earlier, I’m going to punish you like one.”

Your heart pounds once more at the realization you were about to be spanked by your girlfriend. So much for thinking you were getting let off easy tonight. 

You drape yourself across Paige’s lap, suddenly feeling extra grateful for the apartment’s emptiness tonight. It was rare that you and Paige got time to yourselves, and the idea of anyone hearing you being subjected to this was enough to make you want to hide forever.

The first smack comes quicker than you were expecting and reverberates through the small room. If it wasn’t for Paige anchoring you to her, you would’ve flown off in shock. The sharpness of the swat forces blood into your cheeks.

You internally curse yourself for how much you enjoy it. Three slaps follow in quick succession, and before you know it, you’re even more of a moaning mess in Paige’s lap. You have to force yourself to stop from grinding your hips in an effort to chase some pleasure to accompany the delicious pain of your punishment. 

Paige rubs a few circles on your ass, admiring the gorgeous pinkness that blooms under her hand. 

“Fuck, you little slut,” she murmurs. “Of course you’re enjoying this shit.”

You shake your head in protest, but to no avail. You knew she could see right through your bullshit, and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I think I’ve put my girl through enough. Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” she questions. 

“I’ll be so good. Promise,” you moan into her neck, causing her to let out a giggle.

Paige lays you onto your back once more and finally brings her mouth down to your sex. She dives in, circling your clit with her hot, wet tongue, and immediately adds two long fingers into your dripping hole with no warning. You arch off the bed wantonly, relishing in the pleasure you had been chasing for days. 

She spreads your legs apart even further, attempting to get even deeper into you. For both of you, it would never be enough. The sheer amount of desire you felt for the woman between your thighs swelled in the moment, and you feel yourself inch closer to the edge. You teeter at the brink, reveling in the throes of pleasure and passion. 

You’re babbling now-straight bullshit leaving your lips, mixing apologies and pleading for Paige to let you cum.

Paige is now full on assaulting your pussy. Three lengthy digits pushing at your g-spot at a punishing pace and sucking your clit like it was a fucking lollipop. 

Moans, groans, and slick noises fill the room. It was pure depravity, and you were both loving every second of it. In a final plea to let you cum, Paige concedes smugly. She knew she had turned your bratty ass into a whimpering mess, and she was going to relish in you coming undone in front of her. 

As soon as you get the green light, you all but scream, feeling as if everything is snapping into place all at once. Your chest heaves and your thighs try to close around Paige’s head, feeling suddenly overstimulated. Pushing them back out, Paige forces you to ride out the orgasm fully. 

“Fuck,” you groan. That was the hardest you’d cum in a while, due to the absolute buildup of it all.

Licking her lips seductively, Paige meets you in a searing kiss that makes you melt back into her soft bedding once more. Paige was always so gentle with you after being particularly dominant. 

“Gonna go get a rag. Don’t move. Gonna take good care of my sweet girl. So good for me tonight,” she praises. 

Too fucked out to protest, you lay back, allowing her to pamper you. Your eyes felt as heavy as rocks, and you struggled to stay awake.

“I really am sorry,” you mumble sleepily into her neck. “Didn't want to make you mad. Just needed you.”

“I know, baby,” Paige replies tenderly. “Not sure if the spanking was an actual punishment, though.”

You giggle at her admission. It really wasn’t. 

In fact, you were already scheming ways to get another spanking. 

‘Once a brat, always a brat.’ 

[ariichive]

trial period

various haikyuu

in which he finds an opportunity in your boyfriend's errors. suna, osamu, iwaizumi, and akaashi fem reader | cursing | grumpy volleyball players | jealousy | they see their chance and take it | toxic relationships | akaashi's is a bit angsty but its still sweet, promise | i used kenji as a name for readers bf

suna

suna felt like shit; everything was pissing him off today. his coach was harder on him, he forgot his water bottle, and the heat was terrible. he was convinced nothing could make his day worse.

well that's what he thought until his phone went off.

'(name): is this a a good gift set for guys?'

image sent.

'(name): or should I get him a new video game??? thx for ur help rinnie :)'

yeah, his day could definitely get worse.

he stared at your text messages, not even wanting to respond. there was nothing more humiliating than his crush of almost a year texting him about another guy. in all honest, he didn't give a fuck about that sorry excuse of a man that you called your boyfriend.

maybe he was biased, but he honestly didn't care. how could perfect, beautiful you settle for a man who forgot your birthday 3 months ago?

shit just didn’t make sense; now here you are, gift shopping for his birthday. if it were up to suna, he’d make sure you didn’t spend a penny on the man’s birthday. but if things were so easy, he’d gave you in his arms after a long day.

shaking his head, suna typed up a quick, dry response. it wasn’t his intention to come off as an asshole, but at the same time, it kinda was. maybe you’d finally get the hint.

suna ignored the buzzing of his phone as he walked into his local grocery store, he'll answer after buying a few snacks for his apartment. he didn't like ignoring your messages, but he also didn't like your boyfriend.

he saw a familiar, hated haircut as he walked mindlessly through the aisles. squinting his eyes, he made sure his eyes weren't deceiving him; but why was he in the women's care section?

sure, there was a small possibility of him buying you something. however, from what he's heard, your boyfriend has never given you flowers. he walked a little closer, not worried about being recognized because the two had only ever briefly met.

suna decided to pull out his phone; he felt something in his gut screaming at him.

suna quickly skimmed over your texts of you asking which video game to buy him. he facetimed you, making sure his headphones were connected.

"you asshole, you're lucky i'm still at the store," your voice spoke beautifully into his ears (he was ignoring your rude remarks). "yeah yeah, lemme see the video game options."

suna heard you sigh before you flipped the facetime camera, showing the huge display of video games.

he didn't look back at his phone, instead looking at your boyfriend- well it wasn't just your boyfriend anymore, he had a girl looking at him with a big smile on her face.

looking a bit closer, he saw the cause of her happiness. in her hands, she was holding two packages of pregnancy tests, different brands.

now, suna didn't want to assume anything; that could be a sister or a cousin. but his suspicions were only confirmed when she gave a big kiss on his lips.

"you're not even looking- are you at the store?" you said after seeing the background of his facetime screen. you watched as he looked lost in thought, standing in front of a shelf of pads. "why are you in the women's section? actually, while you're there can you grab me more..." when you noticed he wasn't listening, you got a bit worried. "rin?"

"sorry, i'm here. hey, i actually have something to show you, don't get mad.. at least not at me, alright?" you stared confused as he flipped the camera to his back one. now everything he was seeing, you were too.

"oh is that kenji? he said he would be at the.." you lost your train of thought as you witnessed kenji wrap an arm around a girl he was with, placing a small kiss on her head.

you could only stay silent as you watched the two happily walk away.

suna felt like an asshole that he was the one to reveal this to you, but it would've been worse if he hadn't.

"o-oh," you were the first to break the silence. "want me to go say something to him? you know i will." suna's own heart broke a little as he heard the cracking of your voice. "no, it's fine. uhh," you took a quick pause in your sentence, contemplating your words carefully, "do you think, you could come over for a little?"

suna glanced down at his screen, seeing you were already out of the video game shack and into the freshness of the outside air.

"yeah, i'll be there soon. be careful going home okay?"

"okay, bye suna."

no nickname or first name, you were definitely upset.

suna sighed as he continued his grocery shopping; making sure not to get anything refrigerated as he didn't know how long he was going to be at your place.

(he grabbed a few of your favorite snacks and a weird-looking stuffed animal he had a feeling you'd like)

after paying and making a mental note to come back later for milk, he went on his way to your place.

he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he got to your apartment, but nothing prepared him for seeing you open your door with sad eyes and a twitching lip; sad but not wanting to show.

"hey," you greeted him with a nod which he reciprocated, holding up his grocery bags. "we can watch that stupid reality show you like," suna stretched as he got comfortable in your living room.

"it's not stupid you just don't understand it."

and when the show was just white noise in the background as he listened to you complain about your now ex-boyfriend was turned into you falling asleep, using the cheap plush he bought you as a pillow; he felt like he belonged there with you.

even as your phone blew up with messages from your ex, suna stayed focused on you.

(he blocked the number).

osamu

you stared at the delivered message you sent to your boyfriend 6 hours ago, only growing more irritated as time went by. the two of you had a date planned for later tonight at a fancy restaurant; one he insisted on going to and you agreed eagerly.

you had already gotten all dolled up, and even though you didn't want to go on the date originally, you did do your best to get ready, and it was a bit disappointing to not go out now.

time was only getting closer, and there was still no response from your boyfriend. over the past week, you felt distant from him, hence your quick agreement to this date.

now, he wasn't even answering his phone. even after ringing kenji multiple times and going straight to voicemail, you still had hope. there was still an hour left until the agreed meet-up time, still some time for him to answer.

you did a few small room chores to kill the time, only for your phone to not go off even once. there were still 20 minutes until 6pm, and you decided that this date wasn't going to happen.

now, you were sad and hungry. getting up, you looked through your fridge and cabinets only to find nothing.

about to give up all hope, your phone dinged from the counter. shooting up immediately, you grabbed your eagerly; only to feel slight disappointment when it was your friend sending you a recently opened food place, 'Onigiri Miya'.

something was pulling you towards the place (maybe your stomach); sending your friend a quick text back, you decided to stop by for dinner. putting on more comfortable clothes and deciding to head out, still no text from your boyfriend.

the place was located in a good area and it wasn't a far walk from your own home. you could see yourself coming here more often. the smell of freshly cooked meals could be smelled from outside the restaurant doors. the place was rather empty, considering it was a bit later in the evening.

you sat down at the counter, glancing over the menu. there was an older lady next to you, who had a big smile on her face as she enjoyed her food. the scene caused a small smile to grace your face. you looked around a little more, noticing everyone had a smile on their face as they enjoyed their food.

this place felt like home.

"welcome to onigiri miya. do ya need more time lookin' at the menu?"

a mans voice broke you out of your trance. looking up, you seen a broad male with dark hair in the, what you assumed, was the official uniform of the restaurant.

"hello," you give him a polite smile, "could i get a minced tuna and spring onion rice ball?" you watched the man’s eyes widen, before a small smile adorned his pretty face.

“gotcha, that’s what my brother orders,” he held a bit of fondness in his voice as he recalled his brother. you giggle slightly, “your brother must have good taste.”

“s’alright. my taste has always been better,” he said as he gave you a quick look over, making you sit up a bit straighter. “really? then what do you recommend?” you decided to play along a little, almost forgetting about the events from earlier.

"stop by tomorrow, we could talk about it more."

and when a number was jotted down on the receipt, you felt a new chapter unfolding in your life.

iwaizumi

iwaizumi stared at his client, whose phone was currently going off non-stop. usually, iwaizumi hated it when his clients were on their phones during his training sessions; but this was annoying at this point.

"can you answer that," iwaizumi didn't try to hide the irritation in his voice. his client, kenji, perked up from his sit-ups. "sorry about that, man." iwaizumi just nodded his head, waiting to get back to his training.

"it's my clingy ass girlfriend, she's scared i'm out cheating."

frankly, iwaizumi didn't care; he had another client coming in soon and he needed to get this guy out. "okay.. are you ready to continue?" with a rather embarrassed nod from kenji, they finally continued their workout; which consisted of a few more sets and then iwaizumi creating a dietary plan for kenji to follow.

once kenji was gone, iwaizumi finished up a few more clients for the day before he moved onto his own workout for the night. it was normal for him to stay late and the gym owner trusted him enough to close.

he was in the middle of his workout when he heard the front door open. sighing, he wiped his sweat off with a nearby towel and walked to the front. walking up, he saw a pretty girl who looked lost just as much pissed.

noticing the man coming out of the backroom with a confused look on his face, you decided to speak first.

"hey, sorry to interrupt but have you seen a male with brown hair, brown eyes, and about this tall?" iwaizumi watched as you held your hand a few inches above your own head. "oh and his name is kenji, if that helps?"

iwaizumi's eyes widened in realization; you must be the clingy girlfriend.

"we close in about half an hour, nobody's here but me." he answered truthfully as he watched your face fall. "oh, thank you for letting me know." iwaizumi watched as you were about to turn and leave, but oddly enough he wanted the conversation to continue.

"why does he have you out so late lookin' for him?" iwaizumi wasn't one to shy away from being protective; especially when it came to women and his loved ones.

you watched as he leaned over the reception desk, his biceps flexing as he did so. noticing you were staring, you snapped out of it. "we haven't spoken all day, and then i called him and he told me he was at the gym... thought i'd wait for him so we could go do something after."

haven't spoken all day? that was weird considering how much Kenji's phone was blowing up earlier from text messages from his "clingy girlfriend"/

"he's been gone for hours. i'm his personal trainer, iwaizumi." iwaizumi stuck his hand out which you shook immediately, "(name), nice to meet the man who's kept my boyfriend so busy these past few weeks."

"few weeks? today was his third day here." iwaizumi watched as the words registered into your mind. there was a twitch of your eyebrow, nails picking at the skin of your hands, and a quick bite of your lip.

it was a shitty situation; he felt bad that a pretty girl like you was getting played by a man that couldn't even bench press 22kg.

"if it makes you feel any better, he dropped a 3kg weight on his foot." iwaizumi tried his best to cheer you up, and it seemed to be working when a laugh fell from your lips.

"thank you for talking to me, sorry for taking up your time, iwaizumi. I should start to walk back before it gets too dark," you said noticing how late it was getting.

"let me close up and i'll walk you home, if that's okay with you?"

you looked shocked before a small smile took graced your face, "sure that'll be fine."

and as you waited for iwaizumi to close up the gym, you sent one last text to kenji; a breakup text.

it was against your moral conscience to do it over text, but he tested your limits. you weren't even sure if he'd see the text tonight, since he's out doing whatever, but your feelings still stood.

when you and iwaizumi started the walk back to your complex, it was full of natural conversations and laughter. the two of you hitting it off immediately and ended the night exchanging numbers.

when the next day arrived, kenji walked into the gym, iwaizumi made training incredibly challenging. he still did his job with integrity, but he added a few new workouts to kenji's routine, some of which even made the athletic trainer pause when he did them himself.

akaashi

you flopped around on your best friend's bed, burying your face in his pillows and letting out muffled complaints.

"he's so stupid, keiji! can you believe he ditched our date to go get drunk with his friends?!"

akaashi can actually believe it, but he doesn't think you'd want to hear that right now. "it is shocking, yes." the lie comes out smoothly, he knows how this'll go. you'll complain and shit talk your boyfriend, get immensely sad for a few minutes, and then fall asleep on his bed.

this always happens when another male does your heart incredibly wrong, and akaashi is always there to pick up the shattered pieces.

"it's not the first time this has happened either... we'll be going good, and then out of nowhere he just..."

akaashi heard the familiar cracking of your voice, which he hated to hear, and when he noticed you went completely quiet; he knew you were crying into his pillow.

he gently got up from his seat on his desk, taking a seat on the bed next to you. "(name), it has nothing to do with you, he's just a bottom-of-the-barrel kind of guy. you know this," akaashi picked your head up from his pillow and placed it into his lap.

"you need to stop letting below-average men sweep you off your feet," akaashi sighed. these men were lucky enough to have a chance with you. whereas he, who's known you for a long time, hasn't gotten the chance. akaashi is too careful, and he never wants to overstep any of his boundaries and make you uncomfortable.

you sniffle as akaashi wipes your tears and runs a soothing hand through your hair, which only makes you more sensitive. akaashi noticed as your frown deepened, causing his hand to stop his movements, an apology already on the tip of his tongue.

"sorry, (name) i-...."

"i go for these types of men because i don't know if i deserve better," you spoke truthfully, grabbing akaashi's hand and putting it back on your head.

"(name), you deserve the world. it's not good for you to self-sabotage like this." his hand continued its movements in your hair. this time, it's your turn to sigh.

"keiji, you're too nice to me... i don't deserve someone like you." akaashi is stunned into silence, his hand movements halting. this was new.

you use his silence to continue, "you're so nice to me. i can't find better because better doesn't exist when you're near me. i don't know what i did to deserve your kindness."

akaashi breaks out of the trance he's in a furrow in his brow at your belittling words. "(name), you have made me discover parts of myself i didn't even know existed. (name) you make me happy."

he sees as your eyes start to water once again, "but i don't deserve you. every time i start to date someone new, my brain always compares him to you." akaashi's heart starts to speed up. "i'm the one that doesn't deserve you," he starts, "you stay by my side when i'm stressed from deadlines, you know how to tell when i need to get out of my room. (name), you know me better than almost anyone."

it was a sweet moment shared between you and him; two people who have been silently pinning for each other for so long.

he sees an opportunity right now and he'd be a fool not to take it.

"(name), you don't need these terrible men when you have me," his words become more confident as he speaks, "i promise i can be enough for you, my feelings towards you are genuine. never would i even think about treating you as poorly as these other men."

your eyes widened as you looked up at his face, a pretty red hue blossoming over his face. "you.. do you actually like like me?"

akaashi chuckled at your words, "yes, (name) i like like you," he repeated your words back at you.

"good, because i like like you too."

both you and akaashi let a comfortable silence take over the two of you. a mutual feeling of love waiting to be explored lingers in the air.

this was fun to write! if you enjoyed it pls consider reblogging or following :)

[juliewillruinu]

"One Last Time" | Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Pov: You're being married off by your clan which caused you to distance yourself from Toji, but how will you react to finding out he is also being arranged to marry another woman?

18+ MDNI

Dom Toji x fem!reader, smut, P in V, no protection, overflowing cum, slight degrading, cheating (kinda, but not really), ass smacking, and a bit of fingering. (I do not own the artwork above.)

You promised yourself you wouldn't see him again. That your eyes would never meet his.

You promised yourself that you'd live a good life without him. You didn't need him any longer.

You promised yourself to do what was best for your clan. They were your priority.

You promised yourself that you'd be happy with your future husband. You'd learn to love him.

You smiled whenever someone mentioned the name of your fiance, a man, not named Toji. A man you've never met in person. You'd tell them, "I know I'll be happy with him. I've heard so many good things about him."

Everything was sunshine and rainbows until you heard the news that Toji was to be marry into another clan. You acted as if you were fine with it but you were not. Toji was yours. Your family could sell you off to another clan all they wanted, but to know that while you were gone another woman would keep him company, take over your role in his life, it saddened you, it pissed you off, it made you want to strangle yourself. You spent nights crying yourself to sleep. What were you going to do? Was there anything you could do? You could only choose family or love. In this time and age, you couldn't dare have both.

You promised yourself you'd never let his skin grace yours again.

Yet, here you are. Crying in Toji's arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck as his back is rested against the wall of your room. He entered carefully and quietly through your window. He heard how you shut yourself away recently, he knew why. He knew he had to comfort you. One last time.

You told him, "I can be without you, Toji."

"You told me you didn't need me."

You pulled away to bore your red orbs into his and spoke hastily. "I lied! I do need you so don't marry that woman. Don't hurt me like this anymore."

Toji yanked your chin, drawing your face close to his. In that moment, you saw an intensity in his eyes that was unlike anything you had ever witnessed before. His usual demeanor, so often marked by indifference and a seemingly impenetrable exterior, was shattered. The anger and vulnerability in his gaze revealed a depth of emotion you had never seen in him.

He had always seemed untouchable, as though nothing could truly affect him. But now, with you so close, everything was different. You were the only person who had ever seen beyond his Zenin lineage, who had looked at him not as a member of a powerful clan but simply as Toji. The memory of your words, "You're not a Zenin to me. I see you as just Toji," echoed in his mind, a poignant reminder of the rare connection you shared.

"You're not the only one who feels hurt by this. Do you think I like the idea of another man having his lips against yours?" His lips were dangerously close to yours. It made you shiver in anticipation. "Do you think I want him to touch what is mine? Just knowing you'll spend your wedding night with him makes me want to rip his head off. I can't let you go like that."

"Then don't." You said almost pleading. "Don't let him take me away, Toji."

"Do you think he could fuck you this good, huh? I know all your weak spots. He'd be an amateur compared to me. Don't you think?"

"...yes, yes, yes..."

Your moans filled the room as you watched how mercilessly Toji was fucking you through your vanity mirror. His eyes scrunched close as his hand held one of your wrists down and held your hand in his other. His large, vainy cock had you stretched out, vigorously entering to hit your vulnerable spots and your insides, sucking him right back in when he pulled back. Sweat glistened off both your bodies as the force he was using was causing your bed to shake. The heavy storm outside kept your screams from being heard by the servants who might be walking around during these late hours. Toji kept his promise when he told you that'd he'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for your wedding.

Red love bites were left on your neck and breasts while you returned the favor by leaving faint scratch marks on his chest and back and teeth marks on his shoulders.

You hissed as Toji's tip pounded against the one spot you enjoyed the most. You were close again. Just a little longer and you'd melt for him again. Toji must have gotten the message as his eyes fluttered open before making contact with yours through the mirror. You could see a mischievous smirk grow on his face. He could feel your insides slowly clamping down on his cock, almost ready to rip it off him.

"Who gave you permission to come yet?" Before you had a chance to answer, Toji had already pulled his cock out causing a slight "pop" noise to occur. His cum from previous rounds began to ooze out of you now that there wasn't anything to keep it inside. It practically left you whining.

"Don't take it out. I was s'close."

"Naughty girl, you have no shame do you? Tomorrow you'll be someone's wife and here you are drooling for your lovers cock?"

He took his teasing further and inserted his index finger which he pumped back and forth against your walls. He wouldn't even give you at least two fingers, not that it would have been enough to help you finish, but it would give much better results than one finger and Toji knew this well.

"Toji, put it back in...please."

"Do you want it that bad?" You nodded frantically. "Then go ahead take it. Milk it, make yourself cum on it, but you'll be the one doing all the work."

You sat up seeing Toji lay his scratched back against the bed before getting on top of him with your shaking legs. You weren't used to being on top and his posture made it seem as if he'd have you do all the work, but you didn't mind. If he was allowed to prove to you that no man could fuck you the way he could, it was only right to prove to him that no woman would ever be good enough for him unless it was you.

One of his hands traveled up your thigh, fingers caressing your supple skin while the other attempted to align his cock to your entrance. His hand went to your hips, ready to help ease you down on it only to be met by your boldness as you slammed yourself down on his thick length. He threw his head back, grunting as your insides molded around him perfectly causing his cock to pulsate in excitement. His large hands gripped each side of your bum, begging for you to move already. You placed your hands on his toned stomach to keep yourself balanced and began to move up and down. You took your precious time, taking it nice and slow. Toji shouldn't be the only one allowed to tease.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

"Teaching you a lesson from earlier."

"Ah!"

He growled giving your ass a hard smack that left a burning sensation, "don't be a brat."

'You're the one acting like one,' you said to yourself before you picked up the pace. Each time you move down his cock the skin of your bum and his shaft made loud slapping noises that left his gulping.

"Fuck, just like, princess. So fucking tight. You like that don't you?"

You met another slap on your ass when you didn't respond fast enough.

"Yes! It's the best, Toji! It's so fucking good!"

The bed creaked underneath the both of you, his cock hitting every spot imaginable. You could feel his cock start to swell, he was close just as were you. He pulled you down against his chest, wrapping a arm around you waist to keep you attached to him while his other hand pushed down on your bum as he jerks his hips up. There's no doubt about it. You were so cock drunk that even your moans sounded incoherent. It felt like your mind was elsewhere while the center of your stomach tightened.

His hot breath brushed against your skin, "Tell me who you love. Come on, tell me, little whore."

"You! I love you! Fuck, Toji. I love you." He hungrily smashed his lips against yours giving you no time to breathe. His tongue wrestling against yours, seeking for its submission to him. You fisted at the pillows near his head as his cock was destroying your insides. Your thoughts only focused on Toji as he nipped at your bottom lip.

"I can't hold it anymore~"

"Fuck, me too. Come on, princess. Give it to me and I'll reward you."

Toji, in the throes of passion, drives his hips firmly against you one last time. His release is powerful, filling you with a warm, thick sensation as his cum spreads inside you. You feel him pulse and release, the heat and pressure intensifying as he finishes.

As he remains inside you, the sensation of his cum beginning to overflow adds a heightened sense of fullness. Your body responds instinctively, your lower body jolting slightly as the sensation of his release overwhelms you. The tightness in your stomach starts to ease, replaced by a warm, satisfying relaxation.

•••

You and Toji laid sideway near each other, your bodies hidden underneath the silk sheets. You could feel his warm lips press against your head as you buried your face in his chest. His strong hand move up and down your back. His touch, his scent his breathing, they were all so comforting. How could you possible live without this man?

"Toji, let's run away. Tonight. Just me and you. Let's never come back here." Your spoke with a straight face, Toji rested his chin over your head, chuckling at your serious tone.

"What about your clan, hmm?"

"..Screw them.."

[nortonluv]

You've gotta hear me out on Ithaqua getting a little too possessive towards his survivor partner during a match ! Love your works btw <3

Mmmmmm Possessive Ithaqua 😍

Warnings: You'll never guess this one but Possessive behaviours

Pairing: Possessive! Ithaqua x Gn! Reader

--------

- He isn't sure what caused it. Maybe it's his own instincts telling him he needs to protect you, or maybe the manor is affecting him somehow..

- Your Team is quite possible the worst concotion of players to have paired with you. The Prospector, the cowboy and the "prisoner". He's semi-alright with Luca, he doesn't really do much harm. Its more a case of him being annoying to deal with on a good day.

- However Kevin and Norton strike Ithaqua the wrong way.

- He immediately finds Norton but instead turns his attention to finding you, just to make sure you stay away from them.

- He finds you. Quite easily actually. He comes across you helping Luca to decode who quickly runs off in favour of saving himself. Smart man, Ithaqua has to applaud him for using that mildly malfunctioning brain of his. He does have to break the connection, if only to delay your guaranteed escape.

- He lets you finish the cipher and simply stands around impatiently huffing and puffing to the side like a bratty child not getting enough attention. And that's accurate to a certain degree.

- once the cipher is done he tells you to go into a locker so he can pick you up and take you with him. You think nothing of it as this is fairly normal behaviour he likes to carry you around you've noticed. His little giggle when he picks you up just melted your heart.

- However. Unlike the usual routine, Ithaqua takes you to the nearest corner of the map and places you there before trapping you within his arms. His cloak making the two of you practically disappear, well.. you know as much as one can with the terror radius thing..

- His eyes are animalistic and his jaw clenched, but he makes no move to act on whatever violent act is forming in his head. Just pulls you to him as though he is trying to mesh with you.

- of course, he was mostly..., kind of, calm.

-Until the two idiots turned up. And by that I mean Norton and Kevin.

-Kevin lassoed you from Ithaqua's grasp, that alone made him screeched out in rage, but just to add some extra sourness to the situation, a magnet gets thrown towards him. Forcing him back into the wall.

- You struggle your way out of Kevins hold and push him away right as Ithaqua dashes at him. Norton quickly runs off to possibly hide in case he needs to really save, or possibly help Luca to continue saving.

- "IDIOTS, BOTH OF YOU!" You yell out to nobody in particular as Kevin had already run off. Ithaqua stays still for a moment, left eye twitching.

- He turns quickly. "Stay." He commands as though you are a dog awaiting your next trick. You're going to stay near, obviously, just maybe that Cipher off to the left will somehow get finished off...

- He dashes away in the direction Kevin left.

- As you're decoding, the prospector returns around the corner.

"Hey."

"Fuck off. That was stupid and you know it."

"Yeaaah.. but got the reaction I wanted. He's a tad bit, whats the word, protective? No. Possessive. Thats the one! Like he owns you."

"If he ever got asked if he owned me he definitely would answer like that.. It's a bit much at times, maybe next time to come running up to try and save when he's clearly not going to chair me. Luckily he seems to have lost Kevin."

The last Cipher gets completed by you and Norton but just before you can run to the exit, Norton says something that irks you.

"Geez, I didn't ask for your life story.. no need to keep going on..."

Yoou dont even initially intend to do it but you're hand reaches out to slam his head against the nearest wall to temporarily stun him.

"Not so fun now is it.."

In the distance a pissed off roar can be heard from Ithaqua, who you can assume just missed hitting the now escaped Kevin and Luca.

"Now, we're gonna surrender." You tell the prospector sternly

"Why would I do tha-"

You grab his ear and stare at him, "Consider it your apology to Itha. Believe me Kevin's going to deal with far worse."

Quiet grumbles are all that are heard from the disgruntled ex-miner.

----

Hope you enjoyed :) I partially forgot what I was writing halfway through but I loved writing this ♡

[gladiatorcunt]

- GUESS | XIII.

you wanna guess the color of my underwear, you wanna know what i got going on down there

cw: kinktober prompt (ass worship), yoga trainer!oikawa, fem reader, rimming, body hair, scent & piss mentions, light implied yandere, public sex (?), hinted possibly one sided iwazumi x reader, light dub con, mentions of fisting, implied that oikawa’s been into reader from the start, semi obsessive behavior, porno plot, self degradation, food play mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Mmh, just like that cutie, lift those hips up for me.”

You’ve been coming to the new yoga class that just opened up at the gym for a while now, a couple months a few times a week, you’re a bit of a homebody otherwise and yoga is the one physical exercise you don’t mind doing often. You like being flexible, able to bend your body in shapes and ways another person would have a harder time doing. And you’re not having sex, so any physically strenuous activity that leaves you sore until you’re put back together by your healing body does wonders for you.

Plus you like the way the leggings hug your well endowed assets, so do a lot of the men in the gym. You wear the form fitting workout clothes for yourself first and foremost, but you can’t lie that a little attention from afar (sometimes too close up by one of the trainer’s usually steps in to help you) boosts your ego. If there’s one thing in life you have to be proud of, at least you have your ass. Squishy and round, jiggles when you walk and never disappoints you unlike everything else in your life.

The same ass that’s raised high in the air in front of your yoga trainer, a more than handsome man in his late 20’s with wavy milk chocolate colored brown hair and a smug twinkle in his eye that’s connected to his smarmy always on his face (even when he seems pissed) grin. You’ll never forget the confidence in his posture, standing tall at the front of the class and introducing himself. Tooru Oikawa, just moved here from japan, his best friend owns the place so it wasn’t too much trouble to get hired, and SO excited to start this journey with you all!

You’ve stayed at the back since then, anxiety swirling in your belly when he’d make the rounds to correct your forms and check on you all. But he’d only pass by with a brisk touch to your back and a ‘good job’, maybe a semi solid pat if you were one of only ones who had a good form, and not to brag, but that’s been the case on more than one occasion.

Now you’re undergoing a little one on one session, he asked you to hang back, noticing you’ve been holding yourself back. You’ve never made much of an effort to talk to him and despite the fact that you’ve never needed this kind of focused attention, he’s been feeling a bit bad that you keep to yourself so much. He doesn’t bite you know, not unless you want him too.

It’s an odd flirtation, something you’ve noticed he never does with anyone else in the class. Oikawa’s attractive enough that you’d balk at him abusing his privilege to drown himself in quickies in the gym’s showers, as off putting as it’d be. But he’s very professional, chuckling at one of the older women making a pass at him and politely turning her down.

So you got in your own head and knew that since there was always room for improvement, surely there must be something he could help you with. So here you are, going through basic poses first before he pushes you into the more advanced ones. You told him that other than increasing your flexibility, you weren’t really sure what other areas would be best for you to get better at.

Oikawa smiled and squeezed your shoulder, no worries, he’ll walk you through a little assesment mini program. Since you mentioned not having done yoga seriously until now, there could easily be something you didn’t even realize needed to be attended to!

“Remember, we want to really feel that stretch, arch your back and lower your head. Breathe in, breathe out.” He instructs, settling a wide palm on your lower back. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’s so close, if you backed up to regain your footing your ass would press up against his bulge. Not that you can tell if he has one right now, but you’re kind of hoping he does. It’s just another part of the fantasy, that’s all this is, you tell yourself. You’re going to soak up the attention, make more small talk as you gather your things and leave, and sit at home suffocating your vibrator until your legs turn into jelly.

“Am I doing this right? My legs feel stiff.” You shift your weight from side to side, your hips gently sway, you could be too in your own head but having Oikawa’s pretty eyes scrutinizing every detail of your body is fucking with your confidence.

He hums, a trail of heat sizzles down your back as he slides his palm down to cup your hip. “If something seems off then it probably is, just widen your stance and put your feet further apart, loosen up your hips. You’re definitely a little tense, cutie.”

Okay so he’s definitely flirting with you, but you don’t startle and shoot back up so you can get out of here. Instead you internally cringe at the squeaks your yoga mat produces, adjusting your ankles to line up more with your shoulders. You keep breathing, in and out, letting your energy flow through your limbs as you maneuver them into the different positions.

Oikawa Tooru burns like a furnace in hell, you realize. Despite having a firm grip on your hip, he’s standing a respectable distance away from you as you bend over. You can still feel the heat radiating from him, his sleeveless muscle tank and his black shorts.

“I think that’s better. Sorry, it's hard for me to relax, I guess.”

“No worries, I totally get it, you do seem like the type to be wound up but that just means we get to unspool your thread and unravel you so we can get to the start and rebuild.” His free hand curls around your other hip, his thumbs absentmindedly stroke the crease where they disappear into your thigh.

This private coaching session is steadily becoming what you’re afraid of, and so horny for you could shoot off into the sky like a soda bottle chocked full of mentos. You didn’t notice when Oikawa got even closer, his blunt hip bones cradling your ass in between them. Could he just be weirdly, and grossly in most people’s eyes, friendly? Does he even see what he’s doing as being the tentative first step into fucking you in a public gym yoga studio?

“Um, yeah, thank you by the way. I’ve felt so much better since I’ve started taking your class, you’re a lifesaver even if I still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh, we all do, including me, believe it or not. I remember you from back then you know, so shy and fidgety, like a baby bunny.”

“You’ve really filled out too. Excuse me for saying this but I know this ass wasn’t always like this, so pretty and plump.” Toned hands drag over the swell of your cheeks, not digging in and kneading the globes, only ghosting their touch along the clothed flesh.

You subconsciously wiggle your hips, Oikawa’s breath hitches behind you, and that is perhaps the most monumental thing you could have achieved today. Flustering the man who gets hit on a billion times per day and gives it back tenfold, a competition of who can keep their cool, that’s how he operates in most things you guess. Like he’s always competing against somebody even if they don’t know, and he just has to win or it’ll be an ugly spot on his record. A record only he keeps and only he sees, but you sense that that’s more important to him than anything else.

“Oh, thank you. I just do a lot of squats every morning and every night after class, nothing crazy. Yoga’s the only other kind of workout I do consistently, anyway.” You're still in what feels like a perverted version of downward dog, briefly taking stock of the strain in your legs now trying to hold the position.

Oikawa makes a surprised sound, “Really? You have such a great body, I’m shocked you’re not a gym rat like me and all my buddies. Some people are just lucky, huh cutie?”

He says it, humble and charming, like he doesn’t also consider himself one of those people. Your cheeks heat up at the idea of a musclehead like Oikawa complimenting your curves, your chubby gathering of fat even in places some people would find ugly, your wideset bones and plush tummy.

A pin drops, “Alright. I think you’ve been in that position long enough, why don’t you go ahead and lower your knees into the table top pose, bring your head up slowly and remember to breathe. In, out, good girl.”

His hands guide your hips down, he steps back to let you settle your knees on the mat. You hear the foam sink behind you, he’s sort of kneeling too, halfway sitting on his legs, the backs of his feet facing the ceiling. Oikawa looms over you like this too, he has a presence you can be lost in before you actually see him, which you definitely can in the wall to wall mirror in front of you. The yoga class was a dance studio before Iwa decided it didn’t fit with his vision, you remember Oikawa telling you all on his first day.

He must feel your wide eyed stare, because he looks up too and suddenly you’re locked in a charged moment.

Neither of you says anything as his feather light touches on your ass become firmer, he’s outright groping you and pulling you back to be flush against his crotch.

He grinds his half hard bulge against you, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to notice me, cutie. Been wanting to do this for so long, you have no fucking idea.” He huffs, adjusting his clothed cock to rest between your cheeks. “You’re so hot, every time I saw you bend over I wanted to cancel class and take you right then and there.”

You gasp and rock back into him, shaking your hips and digging your knees into the mat. You have half a mind to look around the room for the camera and porn filming crew but reality is clearly stranger than fiction, your hot yoga trainer’s stiff cock is sandwiched in your ass crack.

He takes his sweet time dragging his length up and down, the tip catches in the divot of your leggings where your hole is, you’re a little disappointed that he’s not humping you like a rutting dog but you suspect that that’s part of the fun. Oikawa knows you want him so bad that he’ll restrain his urge to fuck you through the floor all the way to the center of the Earth just so you can endure some teasing. You’re so shy and withdrawn but those girls are usually the best kinds of freaks, all he’s doing is bringing it out of you, call it another one of his famous coaching methods.

The door’s locked, so if Iwazumi catches on to what’s happening and tries to rain on your parade, he’ll have to listen to a symphony of moans and slick sounds of bare sweaty flesh slapping against bare sweaty flesh. Oikawa laughs and tells you that Iwa’s been eyeing you too, when you check in at the front desk, when you’re getting water, when you head into the changing rooms to get ready for his class, it’d be helplessly cute if you weren’t already taken. Or, you’re gonna be, at the very least.

“When we’re done, I'll clean you up with my tongue and we can go on a little date. I can take you out properly this weekend but I'd hate for you to think that I was just trying to hit and quit it. I’m not the type to pump and dump, not anymore.” He speaks into the divide of your ass cheeks, having sunk to floor fully and doing some bending over of his own to be at eye level with your lower half.

You bite your lip when he starts nipping at you through your leggings, he smiles into the fabric and bites down harder, soothing the sting with slow licks. Oikawa kisses all over the swell of your behind, sniffing the scent of your perspiration and your body oil in between, medicinal vanilla and natural musk. You can see him hump the mint green yoga mat as he reaches up to hurriedly tug your leggings down enough to expose your ass. Your black thong frames it perfectly, but Oikawa pulls them off too and stuffs them under the waistband of his shorts.

He groans at the sight of your bare skin as it bounces free to say hello, taking a handful of each cheek and squeezing the life out of them, the thick flesh bulges between his fingers so he swiftly smacks each one, for tempting him and making his cock so hard it could explode into a blood filled mess of cum and sticky pubes in his pants. You cry out, rocking forward only to be immediately pulled back so he can keep kissing your ass.

He dotes on it like he would your face or mouth, almost giggling before and after quick pecks that develop into long slurps at your rim. He runs the tip of his nose over the hair on your crack, wetting it in messy swipes of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good, baby, better than pastry i’ve ever had, and believe me, you don’t even want to know how much money i spend at the bakery across the street from my apartment. You’d love it.” He moans, saying hello to your winking hole by dotting barely there kisses right in the center before toying with you, dipping the tiniest bit of his tongue in your walls, then dragging his saliva all over your pucker. “It’d be fun to eat something off you, we could make a date out of it. Go up to the counter and pick which ones would taste the best when I eat it off your fat ass, but I think they’d all be amazing, don’t you?”

You nod rapidly and throw your ass back on his tongue, burning in shame with every smug laugh and grunt as Oikawa beats around the bush so to speak, doing everything under the sun with your ass but properly eating it. You wish you were in your shitty apartment, sitting on his face and drowning out the sound of your arguing neighbors with your slutty moans. He looks up from behind you to check on how you’re doing, and thank heavens because he finally buries his face in your ass and slurps at your puckered hole.

You lose yourself to the experience, feeling his wet tongue fuck into your ass hole and carve out little pieces of you for himself. He pays zero attention to your pussy, which is why it’s so wet and dripping onto the mat beneath you, it’s like he’s too obsessed with your thick globes to even notice, but you don’t hate it. It’s hot to have a guy be eye socket deep in your ass but also have him neglect where you really need his attention, there’s a dichotomy between being the mousey way you’ve gone about your life and the whorish behavior this man is urging you to consider.

You looked fucked out already, hair all over the place from how much you’ve messed with it and lips dropping open on drawn out squeals and whines. Oikawa is eating your ass out like it’s his main job, the one he puts in overtime for and goes above and beyond to be employee of the month at. He thrusts his tongue a few more times before apparently deciding that’s not enough and slipping in one of his absurdly long fingers alongside it.

You whimper, clenching around both as you just sit there in that damn table top pose and let a man you barely know play your ass like a well oiled fiddle. He shakes your cheek in his hand as he digs his tongue into you, delicately fingering your hole until it goes slack enough for him to insert another. You’re impossibly tight, as much as your clit is howling for it you know perfectly well that any serious penetration isn’t possible. From the impressions you got, Oikawa’s packing enough to tear you until you bleed if you don’t use lube or prep thoroughly beforehand, which you’d do anyways but it’s a shame.

Your clit throbs painfully but Oikawa pulls back with a gulp of air to level you with a warning look in the mirror, which only gets you wetter, you twitch again because he’s one of those. There’s a brief flicker of defiance, you could pout and touch yourself anyway, you don’t owe this ridiculously attractive man anything and he’s the one motorboating your ass cheeks and not the other way around, so shouldn’t you be the one in charge?

Then his eyes darken, you get another sharp smack and you table the discussion for some far off occasion.

Oikawa smiles, gently kissing the apple shaped swell of both of your cheeks, “See, I know from your time here that you can be such a good listener, you’re so sweet for me, I know it. You can’t hide that from me just because you want to throw a fit, I said we’d get to know each other afterwards, didn’t I?”

You scoot your ass back in apology, silently begging him to get back to it. He must really be horny too because he dives straight back in, groaning into your rim and french kissing your hole. The hand not doing its best to push its entirety into you kneads your fleshy ass cheek, molding it like dough and separating it from its twin, giving him easier access to your pucker. He ‘tsks’ not even a second later, crooking his two fingers and letting go off your cheek, humming in contentment when it bounces against his face and he’s smothered again.

He wonders if you’ll let him fist you, give you a unique one of a kind rose to swoon over and keep tucked away inside you later, the perfect first date gift from your future boyfriend.

You can even do couples yoga in the morning after your first night together!

“Let’s see if you can cum just from getting your ass played with.” Punctuated by a fourth finger sliding into the knuckle in your ass, he scissors his fingers to stretch you out and playfully acts like he’s gonna sink his whole fist in, pulling out his fingers to curl them into a ball.

The barest hint of blunt pressure on your hole sends a flood of your juices down his arm, smelling somewhat pissy which gives Oikawa truly the most impish grin imaginable.

[recklesssturniolo]

My Girl - C.S

toxic/very lowkey stoner/soft dom Chris but like cute at the end I guess? (thank @flowerxbunnie for this), FWB

A/N: lowkey i didn’t have a scenario for this I just went w it (,:

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

“Come on ma’ you know I didn’t mean it” Chris sighs, relighting his joint.

Arguing with Chris wasn’t how I wanted my night to end. However, Chris commenting about fucking another girl to Matt was more than enough to piss me off. Us now arguing back and forth in his room.

“Whatever Chris, it doesn’t matter because we aren’t together right? You fuck who you want and I’ll do the same” I huff, watching him exhale the smoke and starting to grab my stuff.

His eyes narrow at me before he speaks, “You really think anyone else can make you feel as good as I do?”

“Never know until you try right?” I smile back.

Noticing him put out his joint and start walking towards me, I roll my eyes. He grabs my head and turns it so I’m now directly facing him, our eyes staring right into each others. How red his eyes were being enough to make me want to roll my eyes again.

“You know no one can make you feel like I do, put your shit down as if you’re leaving” He says, slowly pushing me so my back was against the wall.

“I’m not doing this with you again Chris, you’re exhausting. I don’t care to hear your excuses anymore” I sigh, well aware that we went in circles over and over again.

“You’re my girl, I don’t want anyone else” He mumbles, his lips connecting with my neck and his hands on my lower back. Instantly hating myself for how his words affected me, never mind how his lips on me made me feel.

“I’m not your girl” I reply, choking back a moan as he sucks on my sweet spot.

“Yeah? Why do you always end up back here then?” He replies, pulling away and looking me in the eyes, before leaving a trail of kisses down my neck towards my chest.

With his hands slowly making their way under my shirt, his thumbs rubbing small circles over my skin, before he moves them and grabs my ass. I’m unable to get out a response, a small moan falling from my lips instead.

“Chris” I whine.

“Come on mama, let me prove no one else can make you feel as good as me” He responds.

Instead of responding I grab his face and connect our lips. His words alone causing a wetness to form between my legs.

“Jump” He mumbles through our kiss.

Doing as he said, I jump as his hand helping pull me up, my legs now wrapped around him, his hard on immediately pressing against my core. Pulling away he brings us over to his bed, pulling at my shirt for me to take it off. I do as he says as he removes his as well. Realizing I had yet to actually put on a bra and pants during my previous statement that I was leaving.

A gasp leaves my lips as Chris latches his lips around my nipples, a shutter spreading throughout my body as he sucked and flicked his tongue on it while using his hand to play with my other before switching.

“Chris please” I whine, my pussy throbbing, needing him to touch it.

He smirks up at me before moving himself lower, planting kisses on the inside of my thighs, before a final one on my clothed pussy. My hand moving to grab his hair as he did so.

“Already so wet for me” He says while simultaneously pulling my panties down.

“I need -“ I begin before he cuts me off.

“I know ma don’t worry”

I whimper as his thumb makes its way down my slits, before watching as he lowered his head, his tongue instantly licking a strip up me. He his tongue to flick my clit, flattening his tongue on my pussy momentarily before continuing to explore it with his tongue, before I feel his fingers near my entrance.

He slowly pushes on into me, as I let a moan out and my back arches. Not longer after he begins pushing a second finger into me.

“Chris” I whine.

“My name sounds so good coming out of your mouth” He responds, his fingers curling slightly inside me as he begins moving them in and out of me faster.

Continuing to eat me out, devouring my pussy as he always did, a knot begins to form in my stomach.

“I’m - I’m gonna come” I moan, my grip tightening on his hair.

“Come on ma, come on my fingers for me” He mumbles, not stopping his actions with his tongue or fingers.

As I came undone, my eye clenching shut as my legs tightened around his head, my breathing erratic as the pleasure took over my body.

“Breathe baby, you got this” He tells me, letting me ride out my high, “Such a good girl”

Once I finish, he lifts himself up and hovers his face above mine connecting our lips momentarily before beginning to removes his sweats, his boxers following.

“You ready?” He asks as he lines himself up with my entrance.

I nod in response but he speaks again, “Words, use your words”

“Yes Chris fuck please I need you inside me” I respond, not caring how desperate I sounded.

He begins slowly pushing himself into me, my face scrunching slightly as I adjust to his size.

“You can take it, I know you can” He says, looking up at me to assure I was okay.

“I - yeah just so big” I whimper, a smirk spreading on his face as I did.

Once he was fully inside of me, my arms instantly wrap around his neck, pulling him down to kiss me. The kiss filled with lust as my moans continued to spill out from between our lips.

“Faster, please” I whine out, knowing he was going easy and needing more.

“You sure mama?” He checks.

“Yes god please” I respond.

He moves his hands down to my waist, tightening his grip as his fastens his pace.

A groan falls from his lips before he mumbles, “So tight, you take me so well fuck”

My eyes roll back into my head as he continuously hit my g-spot, a mix of moans and whimpers coming from me as he did so. My nails digging into his lower back as he put my legs over his shoulders, my pleasure only increasing as he hit my g-spot harder.

“Chris fuck oh my god I’m - I’m not going to last much longer like this” I stutter out, my pleasure starting to overcome me.

“Just a little longer for me pretty girl, I wanna come with you” He groans out.

“I - I can’t” I whimper.

“For me baby, you can hold it I know you can” He replies, my nails digging deeper into his back as I resist my body’s pleas to let go.

Minutes later, my head thrown back, my breathing once again becoming uneven, with tears threatening to spill from my eyes from the constant pleasure mixed with forcing myself to wait, he finally says what I needed to hear.

“Let go, fuck let go ma” Chris says, his dick twitching inside of me.

A breath of relief leaves my mouth before a continuous flow of moans follow. My legs slowly dropping from his shoulders and shaking as I felt myself clench around his dick as he filled me up.

“Deep breathes baby, you’re okay, so pretty coming undone beneath me” He says, still coming down from his own high.

“Feels so good” I whimper as my high dies down.

Chris pulls himself out of me, once again hovering his face over mine, kissing my forehead, mumbling how good I was for him before laying on his back.

“Told you” He smirks, turning his head to look at me.

“What?” I ask, unaware of what he was referring to.

“That no one can make you feel as good as I do” He clarifies.

“Yeah yeah” I mumble, knowing once again I’d lost the argument.

Going to get up and get dressed, Chris pulls on my arm forcing me back onto the bed, “I meant it too you know”

“Meant what?” I sigh.

“That you’re my girl and that I don’t want anyone else. Don’t go” He says, his eyes almost pleading with me.

“I - okay” I reply, shocked at his words.

“I’ll do whatever you need to prove that I mean that. I don’t want you with anyone else” Chris mumbles, pulling me in closer to him and the blankets over our bodies.

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt

[acapelladitty]

I want to suck Penguin's cock

savour

Fic Masterlist ☆ AO3 ☆ Other Penguin Fics

Summary: Oz is in need of a little loving and you know exactly how to make him feel good. (NSFW drabble) (also...same)

For a man who kept his cards close to his chest, it was surprisingly easy to work out when Oz needed a little attention - not that he would ever really lower himself to ask for it. Between his wandering fingers and the constant attention which his eyes had seemed determined to give you, his desire for some sordid affection was as clear as day.

Now, with his stomach pressing into your forehead with every shallow thrust of his hips, the scent of his cologne pairing with the fresh sweat on his skin is heady as hell as you carefully breathe through your nose and give him what he needs.

"Fucking hell!" Oz stutters through panting breaths and the sensation of his thick fingers stroking along your hair to hold your head firmly in place startles you for a moment until you relax fully into his grip, "Yeah, just like that, baby."

Hand alternating between clawing messy cresent-shaped divots into his wide thighs and gently massaging at his balls, the ache in your jaw grows steadily more pressing as you struggle to keep your teeth free of his fat length. The hair which covers him is coarse and delicious against your fingers as your other hand maintains an equally frantic pace - stroking along your soaked cunt to drag sharp bursts of pleasure from your heated skin every time you slip your fingers up to graze along your clit.

"Don't wear yourself out too quickly, sweetheart," growling the words, Oz taps his foot roughly against your knees as they press into the cheap carpet. "A man's got to eat and I dont like my food all used up."

Snatching your bobbing mouth free of his length, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his sensitive cockhead and you wipe it off playfully with the back of your hand.

"You gonna eat me, Ozzie?" Glancing up at him with fluttering lashes, you lick at your lips and pop your mouth with an unmistakable wink. "What if I don't wanna move from here?"

"And miss out? I'm only having a taste of what's mine, doll. Gotta savor a woman proper, not like one of those shitty wines those club pricks'll pay a small fortune for."

Your hand moves slowly along his shaft, enjoying every little twitch of his velvety skin as you question that logic, "But you don't drink wine, baby. You say it tastes like piss and vinegar."

"Mmm," Oz hums contendely as he stares down at you past the swell of his gut, "you ain't wrong about that. I like my women with a bit more punch to 'em. Woman who know how to have a good time and take what they're give-"

Taking the hint, you drop your head forward and swallow him down once more into your wet and willing mouth - stretching your jaw wide as you press forward until you feel the tickle of his pubic hair against the tip of your nose. It's a move which strangles the words from his throat as his hand tightens around your head and his knees buckle slightly.

"Again, fucking hell, doll."

Unseen as you bury your head in his groin, you focus on the task at hand as your tongue swirls along his cock to pull him deeper still. A little loving never hurt anyone and the promise of some loving in kind just made all the effort that little bit sweeter.

[w2soneshots]

INside -Angry ginge

words: 0.9k+

warnings: none.

summary: you enter the inside house and quickly get along with a particularly attractive ginger boy.

notes: hello loves! I’ve had so many people asking for more angry ginge fics so here’s a one off😉. Enjoy!!💓🫶🏼

Today I'm going into a house with nine other people for a week. No connection with the outside world, no internet and with mostly strangers that I've never met. It's for the sidemen's new reality show. I haven't been told much about it so it will be quite a surprise.

The taxi dropped me off outside and I grabbed my suitcase from the boot. I pushed open the heavy door to reveal what looked like an airport security. I furrowed my brows. "The fuck is this?" I walked through the scanner then read the signs on the mirror. "Smile for the camera." I pulled a face then popped my suitcase onto the conveyor belt. Once I was finished I opened the door on the right.

The house was quiet when I made my way up the stairs. "Hello?!" I shouted out. I walked into the living room. "Hey!" Joe ran towards me. "Hi! I can't believe you're in here!" We shared a quick hug. I've known Joe for years. It was nice to know that someone I knew was in the house. Then another guy stepped forward. "Hello. I'm Morgan." He greeted me with a cute smile. I smiled back. "Hi, I'm y/n."

The next to arrive was Chloe (who I know since I was on her podcast), followed by everyone else. They all seemed nice but I could tell that there was a few people in it just for the money, which I understand but I want to make friends and just have some fun. We picked our beds. I ended up between Morgan and Manrika. We all sat down on the sofa to have a chat. After a little while Miniminter, Vik and KSI walked into the room. Everyone erupted in cheers and claps.

"Welcome to inside!" JJ started dramatically. "You will all be battling it out for a prize fund that starts out at one million pounds." Everyone clapped once again. "As you guys can see, there's not much in this house. That's because everything costs money." Vik said, putting on his best presenter voice. "No Vik no!" Joe joked. Simon began, "We're going to be opening the shop so you can buy whatever you want, but you're going to be paying for it through everyone's prize money." Vik went on to explain all about the shop, the daily challenges and food (we only get basic stuff unless we want to purchase it from the shop).

They left soon after and we continued to chat away. Until the tv screen lit up, reading 'the shop is now open'. Everyone raced downstairs. "Two grand for the pool balls?! You're taking the piss." Ginge stared at the board. "You have to pay for a shower? Are you fucking joking!" My eyes widened. I really didn't want to have cold showers every day.

After a long conversation about the shop and trying not to spend anything we all went upstairs. Then lunch arrived. It was freezing cold rice and chickpeas. I genuinely could not force myself to eat it, it was disgusting. Everyone went to eat their food then me and Ginge slipped away from the group to go downstairs. We giggled as we hurried into the shop. "I'm fucking starving." I ordered a packet of crisps and a fizzy drink. He ordered the same. We sat on the floor and ate in peace.

After the first night I slowly began to catch feelings for Morgan, and Chloe was quick to notice. "But do you find him attractive?" She asked me as we got ready. "I don't know. He's tall and he's cute." I replied, not making eye contact with her. "Oh you definitely like him!" She chuckled.

It started to become a running joke in the house. The way we looked at each other, our banter and the fact we always sat next to each other. Me and Ginge didn't talk about it directly but one day Specs was telling me about the conversation he had had with Morgan and it was very interesting. "He said that he would go on a date with you if he got the chance." "You're joking?" I was slightly surprised and I didn't want to look like a mug if Specs was just having me on. "No seriously. He likes you y/n."

Ginge left the next day and I actually missed him. It felt weird not having him around. I ended up getting into the final three before I left. I was really happy for Chloe and Manrika. I also saw Morgan again, we shared a quick hug then I gave him the rundown on what happened after he had left. We filmed tiktok's, took pictures and then said our goodbyes. I felt as though I had made some really good friends and made some interesting memories.

A few days after the final I got a call from Morgan. "Hey!" I answered in a cheerful voice. "Hi, I just wanted to ask if you were free anytime this week?" He got straight to the point and sounded slightly nervous. "Are you asking me out?" "Uh- well- yeah." He stumbled on his words. "So Specs wasn't joking." I thought out loud. "What?" "I'll explain on our date. You free Friday?" I asked. Unbeknownst to me a huge smile spread across his face. "Yeah I am." "Great see you then."

After I decided the call I quickly rang Chloe. "Babe, you'll never guess who just asked me out!" I began excitedly. "Who? Wait! Ginge?! No way!" She screeched down the phone.

[solbaby7]

Burn Baby Burn (pt.2)

Cassian x reader

warnings: flirting, some angst, violence, maybe a little smut and a jealous Illyrian baby—i got a little carried away but i had a vision

summary: Cassian’s been busy and you come up with a plan to get his attention back—no matter how toxic your tactics may be

—

“Now remember, we just need a rough estimate of their troops.” Rhysand had already gone over the details of the mission three times, his violet eyes stern when regarding you. “The second you feel danger, you leave.” The words hold no room for defiance, hands curling around the fleshy parts of your arms as he continues, “I don’t need you being a hero, I need you to get back in one piece. That is an order.”

“Yes sir.” The term of respect sounds foreign on your tongue when regarding a male you’d looked at as family but something in his tone forces you to understand that even while a huge part of accepting the mission in the first place was just to piss off Cassian, the true danger of the situation never changed. Silly games aside, you’d be in the Autumn Court, filled with males with fiery gifts and even more heated tempers to match. Rhys had went over it twice, stressing how little regard they had for their women and for you to be twice as cautious as usual. “Get a number and get out. Should be easy enough.”

He runs an eye over you, taking in the dress Mor had chosen with a sigh. “Has Cassian seen you yet?”

“Cassian doesn’t seem to have much time for that sort of thing lately.” There’s no hiding the bite in your words or the little frown at tugs at the sides of your mouth as you run your fingers over the glimmering gems on your dress. It covered enough—the material thick and sturdy as it moulded to the shape of your breasts. It took some getting used to have so much midriff exposed, the cut out slicing at an angle from one side to another, the two pieces of fabric at your hip connecting by thin gold chains adorned in more diamonds.

It was classy enough but the sex appeal was unmistakable and while none of the important bits were exposed, the material of the dress made it seem like you were wearing nothing but your skin. Rhysand sighed, fighting the urge to buy into affairs that technically weren’t his own but the two of you were family and seeing you both fighting threw off the feel of the house. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t think you should be going if you’re only doing this to get back at him.”

“Not everything is about him, Rhys.” You take a step back, willing your anger to contain itself as you fixed yourself, a painted finger running over glossy lips and curls that Nesta had promised would last all night if you just stopped running your hands through them. “I meant what I said. One night where someone will actually notice when I walk in a room and compliment me—even if it is Eris and his stupid, disgusting mouth saying it.” Tears well in your eyes at the embarrassment that swells from the confession and with a sharp breath, it’s all gone and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes pulls across your cheeks. “I should go—I promised Nesta I’d say bye before I left.”

“Just Nesta?”

Your heels stop their clicking on the floor, the skirt of your dress held in your hands when you turn your head to look up at him. “She’s the only one who asked me to.”

You walk away before you can see the look of pity you’re sure is settling into his eyes and you don’t turn back when you walk down the hallway until you’ve reached Nesta’s room at the end of the hall and slipped inside.

She’s in bed; hair wrapped in tissue paper curlers, book nestled in her hand and you notice that she still refused to touch the fireplace, the oil lantern burning in its place to her left. “You headed out?”

You nod with a little smile, offering a little twirl when she admired your dress once more. “Right after this.”

“You visit your general yet?”

Nesta had always been good at that—prodding at sensitive topics while appearing uninterested, steely grey-blue eyes returning to her books pages as if she’d never said anything at all. There’s a pause, a gulp as you swallow and she doesn’t miss the nervous cracking of your knuckles at your sides. “No.”

“You going to?”

“I don’t see how that would be helpful.”

Finally she looks at you, a brow raised in faux confusion as she pointed a finger at you, your clothes, the hair and makeup that she and Mor had spent a little more time than necessary on—silently picking their sides without rattling the stability of their home and its structure. “Oh?” It comes out a little bored, as if you should’ve been clued in already. “Forgive me, I had just assumed that you’d understood that we didn’t take such time on you for no reason. I said get his attention—can’t do that without showing him what the hell he’s missing.”

A beat of time passes, you mouth a little wide as you look down at yourself once more before staring at the eldest Archeron sister. “Where did you learn about all of this?”

Nesta shook her book a little, her face finally morphing from its permanent cool expression to a content smirk. “I read. Now leave, I’m just getting to the good part.”

An incredulous laugh passes your mouth and it doesn’t subside until you’re in the hallway, the door not even fully closed before you’re slamming into a body much bigger than your own. Hands wrap around your waist before you fall back, profanities mixed in with apologies until you recognize that smell—those hands. The dark hair hanging at his shoulders. “My bad, I was just—“

“You’re actually going.” It comes out no louder than a whisper, hazel eyes widening at the realization, hands tightening their grip on your waist as if pure brute strength alone would be all it took to make you stay.

A few seconds pass and the house suddenly seemed too small even with its many rooms and wide hallways. All rational thought scrambles with his hands on you, warmth radiating on the skin exposed at your left hip. He’s so close, the smell of his soap, the conditioner he’d no doubt used more than necessary because he liked how soft his hair felt afterwards. You take a shuddering breath, hands on his forearms, fingers curled around, unsure if you wanted to tug him closer or push him off. “Yes, I am.”

For the first time he seems to take in your attire, the sultry eye makeup, your pouty lips covered in shiny gloss and something like anger flashed in his iris as he seemed to remember who’d you claimed you were wearing it for. The warmth on your body retracts in an instant, a sneer on his mouth and you can’t help the pang that digs into your chest.

Your arms cross over your body, insecurities on overdrive at the disgust that radiated from him the longer he stared. You blink away the tears that burn at your waterline and after a sharp breath, you square your shoulders and straighten your spine. “If you’re quite finished—“

“As a matter of fact, I’m not.” Your brow quirks at his raised voice, your hand settling on a poked out hip at his outburst. “What was that back there?” Cassian questions, tone settling down to nothing but barely a whisper as he stood before you more so resembling a young boy rather than a great commander of armies. “The things you said—were they.” He stops himself, eyes closing briefly before clearing his throat. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?”

“Which part?” He repeats as if you’ve said something stupid, hands smacking at the sides of his thighs. “All of it. You—“ Cassian stops again, eyes squinting a little as if he’d called a council meeting in his brain and the whole sleuth of determined soldiers gathered, firing off a million different possible sentences. “You want another males attention?”

You sigh, anger beginning to subside when he spoke so softly, eyes so wide and vulnerabilities beginning to make themselves known. “I do if it gets yours.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Cassian snarled, hand waving the words away as if it were smoke in the air and you force yourself not to notice the tight fit of his sleep-shirt; sleeveless and snug, the grey color doing little to hide every dip and hard ridge of his body. The sharp ‘V’ peeking from the loose sleep pants have you sucking in a harsh breath, a blush fanning as you tear your eyes away from him.

“Is it?” You sound a little distracted, mainly because of the growing need that ensued from such proximity with the Illyrian and when you begin back down the hall and towards the foyer, Cass is hot on your heels. “I mean have you even noticed anything at all this week? I’ve been practically throwing myself on you and I’m certain you don’t even have a single clue on what I’m talking about.”

There’s no need to turn back to face him, you’re positive his silence is his filing through every second that had passed since returning home, every rejected attempt at spending a second of time together, every dejected sigh, every unreciprocated declaration of love and for a split second, you think he finally gets it when a softness settles into hazel eyes. “I am the General Commander of all armies for the Night Court.“

The ember of hope dies just as quickly as it burned to life and a snarl pulls from your throat. “Obviously, I know that.”

“—I am busy.”

“I know.”

“There’s just not enough time in the day for me to complete all of my responsibilities and then come home and baby you—“

Your steps halt to a stop, body freezing in place and the rigid line of your spine seems utterly unnatural. “Oh?”

“I didn’t mean that.” Cassian waits for the yelling, maybe some tears,braces himself for a few well placed smacks before showering you in apologies. “I really didn’t mean that.”

But the yelling never comes.

“I really should get going.” Your steps continue and this time when Cassian reaches out a hand to curl around your arm, you rip it away, steps faltering in your heels as you stumble to create distance between the two of you.

“Please—“

“Save it.” The eerie calm lacing every syllable is enough to make him flinch. “I’m busy and there’s just not enough time in the day to complete my responsibilities and baby you so just fucking save it.”

Words died on his tongue, mouth still parted with the intent to explain but you’re already gone, winnowed away without so much as a glance and Cassian can’t stop staring at the spot where you once stood. His jaw clenched when he hears a sigh emit from his right and none other than Nesta stood in the archway, tissue paper curls still tied in her hair, shoulder leaned against the wall with arms crossed over her chest as she peered at the soldier. “Idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

She scoffed, glare never faltering and if Cass was being honest, she didn’t look intimidated by him in the slightest. “You heard me then, so hear me now. Keep up what you’ve been doing—keep pushing her away, neglecting her to the point where she’s skipping meals and guzzling down half her body weight in alcohol or when she looks in a mirror and stares at herself like she’s the scum beneath your shoes—“ Nesta’s voice catches and the soldier doesn’t dare comment on it with her arms now hanging in fists of rage at her sides and the growing fire in that blue-grey stare is enough to have Cassian’s fingers twitching for the hilt of his sword. “You keep that up and I’ll show you exactly what I devoured when Hybern threw me in that Cauldron.”

—

The Autumn Court certainly knew how to throw a party and after a quick scan of the attendees, your previous nerves about your revealing clothing immediately subsides. Remaining aware is an easy feat with so much to look at, bright balls of golden flames floated in the air around the room casting their romantic shadows over the crowd.

One half of the room was dedicated to food, giant tables filled with refreshments, cheeses and breads, fresh fruits and cured meats. Giant flower arrangements beckon you closer, bending at the waist to take in the smell of blushing roses and golden azaleas. “A beauty admiring beautiful things,” A voice sounded from behind you , the arrogant aura washing over like the nights tide. “That’s not something you see very often anymore around here.”

“Eris,” You greet, a picture of professionalism as you refrain from smacking him clear across his face for what he’d done to Mor alone. Instead you offer a smile when he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I’m sure you say that to all the pretty ladies.”

“That may be true,” Eris held a glass of champagne casually between two fingers, his suit such a dark shade of red it appeared black in certain lighting, a fitting contrast with his crimson tresses. “—but you’re the only person I’ve said it to tonight. Stole my attention the second you stomped through the door.”

A blush begins to burn at your cheeks at the complement, face turning to the side and you busied your hands by stealing a champagne flute of your own when the waitresses in flowing auburn dresses glided by with trays full of drinks. “I did not stomp.”

“You did,” He insists over a gentle chuckle, staring down at you over the rim of his glass. You’re too busy skimming over the assortment of food to notice the way the eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court is taking in your figure like you’re one of those sculptures carved from marble that resided in the museum—its beauty forever persevered for others to observe. “I looked over because I thought one of the horses had wandered in.”

The laugh that emits isn’t exactly pretty, a quick bark of a thing but Eris still smiled because it was real. “Prick.”

“That’s definitely true.” The glass of champagne is finished in one gulp, shirt unbuttoned so low you could see the entirety of his firm chest flexing as he reached out a hand. “Dance with me anyway?”

Your eyes squint up at him, taking in the offered hand carefully before copying his actions and downing your glass, hand sliding into his own when you’d set the flute down. “I had a few glasses of wine before I got here,” You say without thinking. “Don’t complain if I step on your toes.”

The grin that smears his face is purely mischievous, interlocking your arm with his own, one hand resting over yours where he’d placed it on his bicep, he leads you through the thick of the crowd. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

Eris spares a seconds worth of a glance towards the group of pristinely dressed people with all sorts of instruments in their hands, music changing on cue and the bouncy tune shifts into something slower—more sensual. He faces you fully, the distance between you no more than a few inches and the burning warmth of a hand that settles low on your waist is borderline unbearable. It had been so long since you’d been this close to a male—to any male other than Cassian and Baron’s eldest son seems to notice. “Just relax,” He croons, decades worth of entitlement evident in the smooth glide of his dancing, the movements fluid, second nature as if he’d done it every morning since the day he could stand sturdy on two legs. “I’ll protect you if your big, bad Illyrian soldier comes looking for you.”

Your head jerks back at the taunt, fingers gripping tighter where they’re loosely resting on his shoulders, the lingering smell of cedar wood and bonfire smoke, freshly cut grass and the nights breeze in the middle of August present on Eris’ skin. “Trust me, he won’t be.”

His brow quirks at the underlying heat in your tone, the flicker of upset in your eye that he nearly mistakes for a shadow from the burning balls of light above. “In that dress? He’d be an imbecile not to.” You squirm under the attention, unable to keep eye contact as doubt crept in. A finger curls under your chin, forcing your head up gently and the undeniable hunger in Eris’ eye burned hotter than the crackling flames of the bonfires outside. “You’re the most beautiful thing in here.”

“It’s not kind to lie.”

His tone shifts, a frown pulling at the corner of full lips and abruptly he stops dancing. “I have never claimed to be a kind man,” Eris informed, words firm and it takes little time for you to realize that this was now the first born heir of the Autumn Court addressing you. “Hundreds of thousands of soldiers suit up for battle and die by my command.”

Hundred of thousands?

That was certainly a higher number than Rhysand had anticipated after the war with Hybern.

“I have never claimed to be a kind man,” He repeats, his hand never leaving its spot on your hip, his finger still remained curled under your chin, thumb tracing against the line of your jaw. “But I am honest and you are the most beautiful thing in this room. The fact that you don’t already know that,” Eric lets out a gentle scoff, seemingly transfixed with your mouth. “—I should waltz through the Night Court and steal you from him myself.”

Your breath catches and you pray he can’t hear the hammering of your heart against your chest. Your lips part to say something back. What? You’re not yet sure but a familiar scent fills your senses before you can figure it out. “I’d say she’s just about done here.”

“Oh look,” Eris all but purred, lids going lazy as his gaze dragged from your face to the towering man behind you, wings pulled tight behind his back and swords sleuthed between them. “It seems your Illyrian did come after all—we should’ve put money on it.”

“I’m not much of a gambler.”

Cassian’s hand clamped around your arm, grip firm when he pulled you from Eris’ grasp and tucked you under his arm, wing fanning out to completely block you from the eldest son’s line of sight. “If you ever touch her again—“

Eris shrugged casually, an amused smile on those sharp features. “Someone should be. If you can’t get the job done then let her be with a male who will.”

It all happens so quickly, you being gently moved to the side before Cassian threw a punch right at Eris’ face. “Shit,” You snap into action, quick to use yourself as a shield between the soldier and the High Lords heir, hands firm on Cassian’s shoulders as you use all of your strength to push him back. It takes a second but he finally allows you to move him, retreating from the crowd of gaping citizens too drunk to comprehend what had even happened.

But Eris only laughs, blood staining his teeth as he watched you leave.

—

Rhysand is already at the front door when you return, jaw set and eyes dark in your anger as you stomp into the house, hands reaching down to rip your heels off as you pass him. “I take it, it didn’t go well.”

“It was going perfectly fine until that fucking overgrown pigeon showed up.”

The High Lord hides a laugh behind the back of his hand, face returning to its original expression at Cassian’s sharp glare. “So you got the intel.”

“Oh, I got it alright.” You snap as you bound through the office doors, throwing your shoes to the side as you immediately start for the High Lords liquor cabinet. “He’s got hundred of thousands of able bodied soldiers at his command.”

Rhys and Cass filter in behind you, shutting the door with a click and both keep a healthy distance from you. Rhysand watches the drink you pour, the harsh grip on the glass and the way you barely flinch at the eighty year old whiskey. Cassian is no better, hands shaking, blood smattered across five knuckles and chest heaving like a bull preparing for battle. “Alright, well then what happened?”

“Everything was going fine,” The words break from you like a dam, a mix of frustration and anger, embarrassment for all those eyes on you while Cassian caused a scene, the burning need that pulsed between your thighs watching the Illyrian punch at Eris like the sand filled bags they used at the war camps. “—we were just dancing and Eris was telling me everything until he showed up acting like some white knight and fucking punches him in the face.”

Rhysand’s lips purse into a straight line, violet eyes filled with disappointment when he turned to regard his brother but Cassian wasn’t having it. “His hands were all over her! I mean seriously Rhys, you should’ve been there—you’d have done the same shit if it was Ferye.”

There’s a pause, a moment where Rhys’ eye glaze over and Cassian remained rooted in place, hazel eyes never leaving his High Lords as he bared his mental walls and broadcasted the entire scene like a motion picture movie. “Oh,” The High Lord murmured, hands settling into his pockets after leaving Cassian’s mind. “Well since you’ve returned safety in one piece as promised, I’m going to go anywhere else but here.” He backs out of the room, a smug little smile on devilish features. “Keep it down though, people are sleeping.”

You scoff at him, intent on grabbing your shoe and throwing it at his head but Rhys is gone before you can even get it in your hands. “I’m going to bed.”

“Like hell you are,” Cassian stops you with an outstretched wing, arms crossed around his chest and stance rooted in place as he regards you firmly but there’s something in those hazel eyes that compels you to listen—to stay. “We need to talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about Cass? I had orders, I followed them and you nearly ruined everything because you don’t want me but another male wanting me is somehow much worse.”

The Lord of Bloodshed raised a brow, utter confusion lacing hard features. All the fight seems to dissipate at once and he’s quick to fill the space and take the drink from your hand. “Why would you even say that? I love you, you know that.”

“Do I?” You say but it sounds more like a whine than anything remotely worth respecting and it’s pathetic how easily your body gravitates closer to his radiating warmth. “I can’t even remember the last time we’ve even talked for this long without you disappearing off.”

A stressed sound claws its way from his throat and suddenly his hands are on you. Cupping your cheeks to keep your eyes on him, sliding down to where Eris had touched near your jaw, down the length of your neck and collarbones before stopping at the dip of fabric near your chest. “You’re right.” You’re prepared to need to explain further, to plead your case to the stubborn General but the low drag of his voice catches you completely off guard.

It feels as through he’s robbed you of breath when he continues his exploration down your frame, thumb grazing over a jewel near your heaving breast and the little whimper that it pulls from you makes your head fall down. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not,” He assures, palms sliding slowly up and down the length of your arms before finding their home around your waist, long fingers splayed out at your hips and for once the warmth there feels right—comforting. “You’re right.” Cassian murmured softly as he lifts you up and sets you down on the giant work desk.

Words escape you when those hazel eyes are finally on you, large body towering over your own as he rakes in your dress and it doesn’t take much to know he can surely hear the pounding of your heart against your ribcage. “I got too caught up in the work,” A finger goes with the gem lined chains at your hip and the touch sends goosebumps down your flesh. “—forgot about my duties at home.”

There’s a pause and when you look up from where his hands are touching you, you realize he was waiting for an answer, a brow raised expectantly. You nod slowly, voice barely audible. “Right.”

“Right,” His finger trails down further, down the slit on that side and his touch is greedy when feeling the soft skin of your legs. Cassian steps closer, hips caged in by your thighs and a breathy sound passed glossy lips when you feel the hardness of him press right there. “How foolish of me.”

“Cass—“

The bottom of your dress is sliding up before you can even comprehend that this was really happening, everything you’d been hoping for all those nights you’d spend stuffing yourself in those corsets and flimsy underwears for a second of this kind of love and affection. You can’t even remember what you were arguing about when you’re gently nudged to spread out for him and then the General Commander of the Night Courts armies knelt down before you. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“I—“ But the response get stuck when his mouth begins pressing kisses into any skin he can get his hands on, suckling gentle marks on the inner parts of your thighs until you can feel his breath fanning over the flimsy pair of underwear covering you. “Fuck—I can’t think.”

“I’m sorry baby,” He croons and it’s supposed to be soothing but with his hands all over, his mouth so near to the place where you’d needed him the most for weeks now—your body is on overdrive, squirming and desperate for a breath of air that isn’t laced with Cassian’s seductive words and eyes that were telling you everything he planned to do to you before he’d actually done it. “Such a pretty thing like you should never have to wait so long to feel good. Could you ever forgive me?” It comes out so soft, almost patronizing when he pulls your undergarments to the side and pressed a kiss to your weeping cunt.

A string of profanities tumble past your mouth and your hands are grasping for purchase at your sides to brace yourself but you can’t focus and every single inch of your body felt like it was being kissed by lightening. “Cassian, please.”

“Don’t beg me baby,” He’s not even looking at you anymore, too focused on running his fingers through the sloppy mess between your thighs. “Command it—I’m at your mercy.”

The words pull something out of you, a moan that can’t be contained and your hand digs into thick dark hair to guide his face back to your pussy, voice cracking with want when you pant out, “Show how sorry you are and don’t stop until I tell you.”

Cassian’s tongue is lapping at your dripping sex before you can even finish your sentence, words replaced by broken moans as he fucked you with his tongue like those sweet ice creams Elaine always had in the freezer. It’s instinctual the way your hips buck up into his mouth, legs shaky and toes curling around the edge of the desk as that tight coil in your belly grew tighter. He only groans when you cum on his tongue, fingers breaching past your clenching hole while he worked you through it.

Nothing can tame the ravenous moans that emerge, breathless gasps and hands that rip the dress up higher just to watch him work. “Cass,” His name breaks on your tongue, head thrown back and the gravely groan that rumbles through his chest is enough for you to begin to pull away; legs too shaky and body too boneless to hold yourself up but the grip around your waist is too tight. “Fuck, I can’t—“

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hear you or maybe he just doesn’t give a fuck because once he’s started he really wouldn’t stop and you worried that if he’d ripped another orgasm from you so soon, you’d pass out. “Cass, please.” Your legs won’t stop moving, toes spreading and curling at his shoulders and you suck in a greedy breath. “Need your cock—I want it Cass please.”

His movements slow to a halt, fingers retreating, mouth dripping and chin glistening when he stands to his full height, wings spread out behind as stiff as the fat cock straining under his fighting leathers. “That’s all you had to say.” Cassian doesn’t even bother fully taking them off, just undoing the buckle and sliding it down enough to fish out his length and tap it gently between your thighs. “I really am sorry, you know.” He confesses, his cock sliding between your slick lips and when the thick head of his tip catches your clit your eyes flutter shut. “So, so fucking sorry.”

The emotion in his voice makes you chin wobble a little and you push away the need to say more when his tip teases your entrance. “I know.” Your hand raised to caress his cheek, to tuck back the dark strands of hair that hang hear his shoulders and the your comforting tone shifts into something different—slower and filled with need as you spread your legs wide, dress sliding from your shoulders and neither of you move to pull it away from where it bunches at your middle. “But, if you fuck me real good, I might just forgive you.”

A glint shines in those hazel eyes. “Is that an order?”

Your hands brace yourself on his neck, grin matching his own. “It’s a command, General.”

Taglist:

@justdreamstars @star611 @wallacewillow0773638 @amara-moonlight @beezusvreeland @aroseinvelaris @naturakaashi

[sc0tters]

Fool For You | Vince Dunn

summary: when Vince sees you with another guy he can’t sit by when you get too close.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), choking, swearing.

word count: 2.38k

authors note: I have never written for Vince until now, so I don’t know if any of this made sense… I like this man though so I hope you guys can sit through reading this.

You and Vince went around in circles.

One month you couldn’t stand the boy and the next you were practically living in his bed.

It was a cycle that your friends couldn’t stand as they watched your heart remain in the hands of the man who didn’t know how to deal with it.

They had brought you out to a bar after rumours of Vince having a new girl in his life came out “I want you to meet someone!” Heidi called out motioning to a guy who had been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes.

He seemed much quieter than what you would go for “hey.” You smiled swirling your drink in your hand.

Tonight you were meant to be saying goodbye to Vince for good as you moved on to someone new “I’m y/n!” You introduced yourself over the sound of blaring music in the speakers.

From across the bar sat on a seat alone Vince was pissed. Watching you smile as the boy you were with leaned down to whisper something into your ear. That little dress you wore was something that the hockey player hated on you.

Not because it barely went over your ass but because Vince didn’t like other guys getting to see you looking the way you did in that dress.

Vince fixed his bow tie as he waited for you to come out of your bathroom “we’re gonna be late!” He groaned looking up from his watch “should I wear these or those?” You asked holding up two different sets of high heels.

The hockey player felt his jaw tense staring at your body from head to toe “you aren’t wearing that.” Vince shook his head getting up from your bed “what’s wrong with this?” You frowned thinking that you looked cute.

It wasn’t often that you got the chance to get all dressed up and you really liked the dress “look I’m not going if you’re going to wear that.” He raised his hands not wanting to argue “give me a sec.” You sighed dropping both pairs of heels as you turned back to your bathroom.

Vince couldn’t help it as that night went through his mind watching you laugh at whatever stupid thing that guy said “are you even listening to me?” The girl who sat next to him scoffed seeing where his eyes had gone.

She was the one who had been rumoured to be his new love connection “you are totally unbelievable,” she added getting off of the chair next to him as she made her way to find someone new.

The hockey player remained sat in his seat until the boy leaned forward to kiss your lips. Vince swore he saw red as he practically took two long strides before he got to your side “hey-” the boy in front of you groaned as he was pulled away from you.

Before they could have a conversation where you could tell Vince to fuck off he instead landed a blow to the boys cheek sending him back tumbling “Vince!” Your eyes went wide as you sent him a harsh glare “c’mon.” The hockey player grumbled wrapping his hand around your arm as he pulled you off of your seat and in the direction of the door.

The humid Seattle September air hit your face “where are we going?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows “get in,” Vince opened the passenger door to his black G-Wagon.

You feet remained stuck to the sidewalk “I’ve only had one beer and I know that you’ve only had one drink.” That was true, despite being at the bar for an hour you had been nursing the same drink all night.

The mental coin toss went on in your head as you contemplated putting up a fight “listen baby, you look so fucking good right now that I just want to get my head between your thighs.” Vince’s words sent shivers down your spine “but I can’t do that if you’re going to be difficult.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw causing you to practically jump into his car.

It shouldn’t have been this easy for him to get you where he wanted it but you were always going to have to try harder to not fall into his hands like putty “what about her?” Your voice was soft as he slammed his car door behind him.

Vince sighed as he turned to face you “she doesn’t matter.” He mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw “yeah she does.” You nodded letting your lips form a frown.

The hockey player rubbed his calloused thumb against your cheek “you are the one in my car baby.” Vince’s words made your hand land on top of his as you nodded.

That moment felt foreign as his eyes stared into yours “wanted you all to myself,” his confession made you smile “really?” The boy nodded as he kissed your lips.

His over hand went to your leg tracing up your skirt “Vince,” you whimpered pulling your lips from his “what do you say we go back to mine?” The hockey player smiled as you nodded.

The drive back to his was quiet, you looked out at the road for the most part silently hating how wet your panties grew at the thought of what Vince was going to do to you “penny for your thoughts princess?” He asked watching you turn around to him with nothing more than a nod “you were a fucking idiot tonight.” You spat sending Vince a glare.

It made him laugh “‘m fucking crazy about you baby.” He confessed pulling into his garage before his car came to a stop.

Your palms grew sweaty as the boy came around to your side to let him open your door for you “shouldn’t even let you get what you want with the way you acted tonight.” Vince ran his fingers through your hair “thinking you are could find someone better than me?” His words continued as your body pressed up against the side of his car.

A whimper left your lips “why don’t you go be a good girl and go sit upstairs for me?” His hand tapped at your thigh as you nodded listening to his instructions as you made your way upstairs.

You removed your shoes reaching behind your back to undo the zipper “keep on disappointing me today baby.” Vince clicked his tongue as he leaned against the frame of his door “sorry Vincey,” you apologised letting your head drop.

Vince smiled as he walked over to you “don’t be,” he forced your head up to look at him “gives me an excuse to fucking rip this dress up now.” Before you could attempt to protest the sound of fabric ripping made you gasp.

You were surprised at how little effort it took from the boy to rip a straight line down the back of the dress “fucking hell baby.” Vince groaned seeing your matching lingerie that was hidden between by the fabric of your dress.

The boy smiled running his fingers over the straps of your bra “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed pressing a kiss on your shoulder “all mine too.” The hockey player added smirking as you looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Vince pushed you onto his bed watching as your body bounced on the comforter “you know that if I was with him he would already be fucking me?” You blinked repeatedly not enjoying the way your body basked in his sight.

Naturally one of your talents was to piss Vince off as you pressed at his buttons “that mouth is forever going to get you in trouble.” He sighed letting his knees fall between your legs “such a pretty baby.” Vince mumbled pecking your lips.

His mouth nipped at your jaw pressing soft marks against your bone. He moved on the journey down to your core sucking at the valley of your breasts, before he moved to your stomach “fuck Vince.” You cried seeing his eyes staring right back up at yours.

Vince smiled as he was faced with your clothed core “let’s get these off baby?” The hockey player asked hooking his fingers in your waistband.

The thong drove down your legs before he threw it across the room “been waiting to see this all fucking day.” Vince let out a grunt as he placed a kiss on your clit.

The sensitive nub sent shivers up your body “Jesus Vince,” you gasped locking your fingers in his hair as his tongue licked up your slit “just me baby.” The hockey player laughed driving his tongue into your core as it lay flat “don’t stop!” You begged as his lips wrapped around your clit making sure to focus most of its attention there as his fingers curled into your cunt.

It was hot has the boy seemed like he was working for his harder than he had worked for his Stanley Cup win. Vince watched as you drove your hips into his face “you’re so hot.” You blurted out making him smirk as your hands dragged through his hair giving it the occasional tug when the pleasure grew too much for you.

Vince felt his cock grow hard as it throbbed against his boxers “I know baby, I know.” He used his free hand to lightly slap your clit repeatedly “shit Vince!” You gasped screwing your eyes shut as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

Before you knew it you were given a rude awakening when Vince retracted his fingers from your core as he smiled seeing you try to protest “you really think you could act like that all night and then get away with it?” The hockey player let out a laugh as he shook his head “want to finally be a good girl and listen to me?” Vince sat up straight as he ran his hands down your thighs.

You whimpered nodding your head repeatedly “please Vince.” You knew your were getting your way when he pulled his shirt over his head.

Within seconds a messy pile of clothes formed serving as a contrast from his clean wooden floor “don’t know how much I missed you.” Vince’s words were soft as he ran his painfully hard cock over your clit “gor a weird way of showing it.” You mumbled sending him a glare “you’re lucky that I need you.” The hockey player let out a grunt as his cock slid into your cunt.

You needed little to no time to adjust to his size, which was good because he wasn’t going to give you it “fuck Vince.” Your head dug into the mattress as he brought your legs up to your sides “not so mouthy now?” Vince smirked picking up the pace of his thrusts as the new angle caused his cock to slide deeper into your pussy.

Your hips tried to ride his in an attempt to help relieve the pressure between your legs “you really think he could have done this for you?” The hockey player scoffed growing annoyed as he thought back to how that guy from the bar ran his fingers across your neck “could have had you gasping for air like this?” Vince let his hand wrap around your throat as he let his calloused fingers squeeze the sides.

Vince smiled to himself as you nodded moaning when his cold chain landed on your chin “only you V.” Your eyelids grew heavy with your brain only focusing on your cunt clenching around his cock “all yours.” Those words made an animalistic switch go off in his head.

The sound of skin slapping suddenly erupted in the room as your cries of pleasure became a mere background noise to it “shit Vince.” You groaned bringing your hands to cup his as you wanted to kiss his lips.

His tongue dragged along your lower lip “my pretty little girl.” Vince cooed as your soaked cunt squelched each time his throbbing cock drove further deeper into it.

Your head pushed back when your breath went shaky “feeling good?” The hockey player smirked as he saw how swollen your lips had become.

It was needy as you whined “so fucking good.” His hand from your throat went to your clit “let the world hear who makes you feel like this.” Vince always liked hearing you scream especially when it was in your apartment where your neighbour was forced to listen through the wall that stood between your bedrooms.

But his bedroom always made him feel differently as it seemed that his walls soaked in your sounds to then speak of the story later “don’t stop Vince.” You begged as the sensations between his cock and his fingers suddenly started to become too much for you.

As your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t help it when your brain went back to how this always ends, you leave in the morning and to your friends annoyance their same lecture then has to be delivered “beg for it baby.” Vince ordered drawing your attention away from your thoughts.

You huffed your chest out “please Vince,” you cried out “only get like this for you.” Your statement was true as no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get rid of him.

How his fingers felt on your skin “fuck I’m coming.” As Vince shot his hot ropes of release into your cunt it caused your orgasm to come over you as the boy made sure to fuck you through it.

Both sets of breaths were heavy “did so good princess.” Vince kissed your lips as his cock slid out of your pussy making your body shudder.

The hockey player watched in amusement as his come oozed out of your cunt “fuck!” You almost jumped when the boys fingers scooped up the release and shoved it back into your pussy “had to make sure none went to waste.” Vince shrugged sending you a grin before he came to lay next to you.

Your fucked out state was enough to make him hard all over again “you were stupid tonight.” Your tone was serious as you knew you had to talk about what he had done “for you I’m a fucking idiot.”

[kyoghurts]

atsumu never not thinks about you.

he doesn’t think about the ways in which you charm him that it pisses him off in an inexplicably good way or that he finds you attractive and annoying when you do not tolerate his scathing remarks and stupid fucking condescending attitude and he doesn’t think of how you don’t look at his way when he wants you to and he doesn’t think of you all that bad to the point that a singular message from you makes him jump as his mind blows up the moon, that he’d send a reply much too quickly so the conversation could flow seamlessly as if time is irrelevant. because it is, when it comes to you.

no, he doesn’t think that he’d want to rip the guy’s skin who have touched you when you looked uncomfortable and no, he doesn’t think that he’s fairly certain he’s not your type. he’s all scrawny and bones and nothing— an awful mismatching colours combined as he watches from a distance and you looked so … bewitching, so fucking beautiful compared to that loser nobody— no, fuck, why’s his hand twitching and itching to grab yours right now and leave the place together?

he doesn’t think of the consequences as he bites a handful of insults and ‘fuck-offs’ to that nobody as he drags you away and he doesn’t care if you yell at him for being so rude despite the guy driving you up the wall. atsumu forgets that he's holding your hand so firm and that you've been walking towards absolutely nowhere in particular that his mind shuts off completely once everything sinks in, once he finds your silence too loud and overbearing that he'd rather listen to you babble about your weird facts of the world that are useless but nonetheless a noise that fills the space like a reassuring blanket draped over your relationship telling him you're fine. he's fine. everything is fine for the both of you to be like this.

but you're not talking, he's not looking at you, and he's squeezing your hand as if you'll run away far from him if he lets you go. he doesn't think about what he's going to say but he's too far gone to back out now, "go out with me." because he can't stand anyone getting close to you, he can't stand to watch you while you're being pretty and amazing without him by your side, he can't stand that you do not understand of his wants but it's more achingly painful to admit that he wants to be yours. in perfect absolution.

when he does turn back to face you upfront, it's like he's going get dizzy just by the sight of you smiling so smug but there's also a glowing, tiny little specks of adoration twinkling in your curled eyes and maybe even stunned amusement weaving on your grinning lips thrown into him and he can't take it well. he doesn't think your low, silvery "okay" could make his heart drop at the bottom of a well and into the bed where he wakes his cooked up feelings sizzling to life like a fire but then it does and there's no reason to hold back anymore so—

his hands immediately curl around your neck as his forehead connects with yours, he whispers against your lips "i'm gonna kiss ya now." he doesn't think how utterly soft you are more than he anticipated, and all the things you've made him into this melting and desperate dipshit flashed beneath his closed eyes like a film on replay.

he doesn't think about the time you complimented him that you like his hair after your band practice and you're wearing system of a down graphic tee with a tamed hunger in your movements, the same way after he's had really good matches and the adrenaline subdues. it's—wow. holy shit. he finds himself in awe that your compliment kind of pierces through his consciousness too hard that it never left him for days, it travels to the unconscious world in the form of him carding his fingers through his hair when he's around you, your voice in that gruff and exhausted tone as you voiced out "hey. i actually like your hair, asshole." haunting him until his ears are painted pink.

he doesn't think that it's really nice when you talk or when you don't until he's gotten close enough to be able to sit next to you without any expectations afterwards. he likes the silence, but he likes it more when you talk of none-sense, and he adds a pile of them even more until it prolongs after class to midnight calls. he doesn't think he'd feel annoyed whenever you watch a series without him, he doesn't think that osamu would notice his mood swings whenever you're elsewhere until he calls him out literally as you're done with your practice.

he doesn't think of it now. he's kissing you and your hands find their place in his hair, easing your fingers around to where it belongs. even as he parts, even as you remove your hand he still doesn't think. but he grabs it to make you comb his hair more. like it's not enough. keep going.

he doesn't think. he doesn't. no, he doesn't. but he's head over heels for you. truly, he doesn't think it'd matter anymore if he likes or hates how you mess with his head and heart. with that stupid smug smile of yours. with that awful and criminally attractive aura you carry. with the searing tongue but sweet lips and everything that you are.

(quit it, though, or he's never ever going to leave you alone now. maybe he won't. or maybe he can't with the way your arms pulling him closer in a warm and fulfilling hug at the moment. maybe you don't want him to leave you alone. maybe he doesn't think about you, or maybe he doesn't like you all that much.)

(oh. wait. he actually does. fuck.)

hello atsumu enjoyers it is i <3

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 7)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: here we are! and CHARLES WON MONACO! (also sorry for the lance slander RPM influences me far too much)

P7 - 2.5L water bottle

"Oh for fuck's sake."

The lyrics rapping over the Metro Boomin beat were cut off as you turned off your engine. You huffed spotting the asshole in green getting out of the Aston Martin in front of you.

Mother fucking Lance Stroll.

Stroll got on your every nerve from the fact that he, as a paid driver, was the epitome of what you hated about F1 and the cash is king nature of the sport. It didn't help your opinion of him that his treatment of the Hospitality workers was very telling of his personality (i.e a spoiled little bitch) - but he also treated the rest of Aston Martin like that.

His engineers he bossed around. His PR team he bossed around. His fucking team principle he bossed around. You had never ever seen a driver be able to literally pick and choose what Media they wanted to do until Lance Stroll. Not even Räikkönen had gotten away with things that way Stroll did.

The worst part of it all, though, was that Lance's attitude of I can do whatever I want meant that he really thought he could get any girl he wanted.

Namely - you.

Your Supra wasn't exactly inconspicuous and Lance had (unfortunately) been in F1 long enough to make the connection that the flash JDM car parked in the lot tended to belong to you. And even though your windows were tinted a few shades darker than legal limit, Lance was getting out of the car right next to you. There was no chance he didn't know that it was you.

If anything, he likely made his driver park next to your Supra on purpose.

"Lord give me strength." You muttered seeing him come up to your window.

But then Lance Stroll had the fucking audacity to tap on your window.

You immediately reached for the handle and opened the door which caused him to stumble for the lack of space as you did so. "Oh, woah! Hey!" The Canadian accent pissed you off for no other reason than it reminded you of Drake. Someone else you fucking despised.

"Don't touch my car." You said, voice flat.

"Oh, er. My bad. Nice looking ride."

"Thanks." You said curtly, internally cringing at how he said 'ride' like that. You went around and grabbed the vast array of things you always hauled with you. Said items for today consisted of your gym bag, your workbag, your lunch bag and your comically large 2.5L water bottle. You always were carrying a lot.

"Need help?"

"No."

"I insist."

"Don't."

"Why you always gotta play hard to get?"

You said nothing, forcefully biting your tongue. You were out of practice with Lance Stroll's shit since Domenicali had finally relented and cut the amount of shifts you would be rostered on Aston Martin. Which had been a shame since the crew were quite nice and you really taking the piss with Nando.

Still, Lance Stroll was insufferable - and you were evidently out of practice dealing with his spoiled delusions. You were just glad his father wasn't around. God help you when it came to the European races.

"I have to get to work." You said and locked your car. There was a call from behind where some Aston Martin people were waiting Lance but he ignored them. Instead, falling into step with you.

"I don't see you around Aston Martin anymore." He said, trying to make conversation.

You kept ignoring him, hoping he'd get the hint. Pulling out your phone, you started to compose a to text to Oscar. He would coming here with Lily and had said something about finally introducing the two of you. Your eyes checked the time at the top of your phone screen. Based on what time it was, Oscar should've been here by now - and could save you from Lance Stroll.

to: piazzas 👼

where the fuck are u ?? lance stroll is trying to talk to me send help

"I don't know." Was all you said, typing away with one hand as the other held a bag, hoodie, bottle and lanyard. You lifted the arm to tap in through the gate and then continued to ignore Lance - who continued to walk beside you and speak.

"That wouldn't be because you're working for McLaren." Lance said. This made you fingers pause as the blatant comment caught you off-guard. You sucked your teeth and took a deep breath. You adjusted your grip on your bags and continued to type another message.

to: piazzas 👼

srsly im gonna fucking rage at this point

"I don't know what you're on about." You said and felt relief seeing the Read time-stamp arrive below your sent message and three dots finally pop up as Oscar typed a response.

Lance made that irritating sound - his laugh. "You know my dad will pay you double what they're paying."

from: piazzas 👼

I'm at the McLaren motorhome. In a meeting with some PR. Can you come?

You huffed and pocketed your phone. Your shift was at Ferrari today and so there was no logical reason for you to walk into McLaren. Then again, it was early and you were yet to get dressed. It should be okay. People rarely noticed you since you looked like some random trainer with the amount of stuff you always carried.

Except, right now, Lance Stroll was not getting the hint and pissing off. Meaning you couldn't exactly freely walk into McLaren no questions asked.

Especially after that comment about you working for McLaren.

"What do you say?" The annoying idiot stood there, still waiting on you apparently.

"What?" You asked, shifting the items in your hand and pausing in your steps. You were in front of Ferrari right now and considered going in to dump your stuff before sneaking off to McLaren. That would at least get rid of Lance.

"Just say the number. How much. Dad wants you onboard and so do I. And all that legal stuff we can sort out." Lance said with a nonchalant shrug that pissed you off more than it should've. "My trainer isn't really working for me anyway."

You stared at him. Was he being serious right now? Your mouth fell open at the audacity and you glanced at his manager behind him who was looking up at the sky, clearly uncomfortable.

But, of course, unable to say anything.

"Ah, Stroll! Mademoiselle is with us today!" You turned your head to the French accent of your other favourite Team Principle. Fred Vasseur arrived with one half of the Scuderia drivers beside him. Your eyes widened on the sight of Carlos there, sunglasses pushed up in the head of hair that had its own fan-accounts and was the star of many, many Tiktok thirst edits.

Fuck.

Last night, your uncle had thrown you for a loop. Carlos Sainz had somehow infiltrated your uncle's sphere with a video of him refusing to sign a Barcelona jersey.

This, your uncle took as a good omen and a worth his approval.

"Approval for what?"

"None of these drivers are worth your time. But this one seems good." Your uncle's voice had sounded through the speaker function of your phone as you balanced a ball on your head. Last night you had present for his usual call to his sister and Dia was adamant you cop it.

And cop it you did. His newest idea was not Jude or Vinicius - but apparently Carlos Sainz.

"What? Because Carlos didn't sign a Messi jersey?"

"His name is Carlos?" Your uncle had asked and you had, in turn, just groaned. You half expected him to make some ridiculous comment about the similar names being a good omen or something.

"Yeah. Carlos Sainz."

"Sainz? Hm." There was a short pause from your uncle. "Is his father a rally driver?"

"Yes." You had frowned, not expecting that.

"Ah! I know him. Good family."

"What?" You said, still stuck on how your uncle knew the Sainz family. "How do you know him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

"Because... I never noticed Carlos." The football you had been kicking slowed as you found yourself frowning at the phone on the kitchen table. "It's... I don't know. It's just Carlos."

"I want you to talk to him. To 'Just Carlos' as you say." Your uncle was not relenting. "Go have dinner together. He has a good face."

Your uncle's attempts to get you married to what he deemed was a 'respectable man' and not, in his opinion, 'some limpy Frenchman' (you would often remind him Charles was from Monaco nor was it was like that between you two) or 'some tatted up Australian wanna be Italian' (you would also remind that Daniel barely identified as Italian). However, all of your uncle Carlo's options had always been footballers which, you and Dia knew, was just a ploy to move you from car circuits to football pitches.

But last night, you found, Carlos Sainz apparently had the Ancelotti tick of approval and he was adamant you and Carlos apparently go out for dinner.

You took your uncle's comments to be why you suddenly found yourself feeling a little awkward seeing the driver in the flesh. The on you admittedly never paid much attention to before.

"Maybe next race you can have her." The Spanish driver - who apparently had your uncle's approval - said. Carlos took a sip from the small coffee cup in hand. He was on his piccolo, you noted.

Carlos came up to you and you felt yourself caught out and taken aback by him openly reaching for the strap of your gym bag and your bottle, prying them for your hands. The surprise had you letting go and once Carlos had a grip on them, he nodded at everyone in green. "See you guys on track." And put a hand on your back to guide you into the home. His clear dismissal towards Lance made you smile and it made your face warm up even more.

Your smile dropped.

What the fuck?

"Um. Thank you." You said, once you were out of earshot.

"He's an idiot." Carlos said, with a tired sigh. This made you laugh.

"You're telling me."

It was then that you realised your laugh was nervous. You cleared your throat. You were going to rip into your uncle. And then yourself for being so stupid. Because this was stupid. You barely ever noticed Carlos. What? You find out he really hates Barcelona and has really, really great hair and suddenly you're tongue-tied around him?

"Ha. Yeah. I get that. And I can hold that." You went to reach for the strap of your bag on his shoulder. Carlos moved away.

"Don't insult me." He said, tsking you with a grin on his face. "Let's go. Fred spoke all morning about your pizzas."

"Yes! I did." Fred said, reappearing with his assistant who was handing him a paper he was half reading as he spoke. "Guenther didn't let me have any last time."

You couldn't but smile, remembering Guenther's loud curses echoing throughout all of Haas when he found you plating some aside for Fred. You gave Fred a salute. "I'll get right to it. Let me just dump my things in the backroom."

"I'll take them there." Carlos said, evidently not relenting. You sighed and let him carry them for you as you both made your way to the backroom.

Unfortunately, this meant walking through the entire motorhome in which case many Ferrari staff did a double take seeing you walk with Carlos. Whilst it wasn't uncommon to see you around, nor for you to have any interactions with drivers - you literally made their food and coffee - but Carlos was holding all your many, many belongings and walking to the small backroom that were reserved for Hospitality.

"Thank you." You said, appreciating the chivalry. What you didn't appreciate, however, was how your body was reacting to Carlos.

You didn't get why you were suddenly so... hyperaware around Carlos. Seeing driver content wasn't something new to you. Why did it affect you like this? Maybe addressing it would just help.

And so your mouth just came out with it.

"My uncle likes you."

"What?"

You quickly elaborated. "He saw a video of you refusing to sign a Barca jersey."

Your uncle had even sent you said video of Carlos, the driver windswept in his Ferrari, driving off when a fan passed him a pen and the jersey. You had to admit he did look good in the video and the way he drove off like that had made your eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

"Your uncle... Don Ancelotti?"

"Yeah." You said with a laugh at the name. The Don. You were proud of your uncle and what he achieved, earning him such a nickname. Dia always said her brother's intimidating Don cigar smoking aura had been passed down to you - and not his own children/your cousins.

You weren't surprised Carlos knew about who your uncle was. It wasn't exactly a secret. And considering the world of Formula 1, that wasn't even the craziest connection for someone working in the Paddock. An Alpine techie was distant cousins with Mbappé, a Haas mechanic was close cousins with LeBron, and Valentino Rossi's babysister's best friend's brother was a PR manager for George Russell.

So, no. No one really paid much attention to you and your uncle. The most it had ever come up was the odd few comments of the Paddock's EPL fans coming to you lamenting Carlo Ancelotti moving from Everton to Real Madrid.

"Woah, that's pretty cool." Carlos said, his eyes widening. "I definitely need to let my dad know."

"Apparently they know each other?" You asked, hoping he might shed more light on the connection your uncle somehow had to Sainz Sr. Your uncle hadn't managed to explain that curious bit.

"Do they? He never said." He said and you blew a raspberry. You really were going to give your uncle a piece of your mind. You shook your head and Carlos laughed, saying something that went to deaf ears as he took his sunglasses off his head - causing some strands to fall across his forehead as he was looking down at you.

Fuck.

He used the other hand to run through said black locks.

Double fuck.

The man seriously could've made it as a hair model.

You looked down from his hair to meet his eyes and felt yourself flush even more knowing he'd caught you staring at his hair. You cleared your throat again - when had it gotten so dry? - and spoke. "You um, you could really make bank doing hair endorsements, you know?"

"Bank?" Carlos asked, not picking up the slang.

"Money." You explained the slang and then thought of the Spanish translation. "El dinero."

"Ah, so was it the Don who taught you Spanish?" Carlos asked, lips turning up to grin.

"Nah I don't really speak Spanish." You shook your head and explained. "I just know that word from some from lyrics and stuff."

"Stuff? From living in Los Angeles?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You blinked, surprised he knew that tidbit about you. "I remember you telling Max about it back in Torro Rosso."

Carlos' observational skills evidently had you in surprise. First it was him remembering your Egyptian heritage and now this?

"I, uh. Yeah for a year and a bit. I worked in a garage." You explained, feeling more awkward and, well, something else that you refused to acknowledge as nervousness.

You didn't get nervous. You had literally served countless celebrities and prided yourself on not getting starstruck or fucking nervous.

And yet, here was Carlos running a hand through his hair catching you off guard with how hyperaware you were of him.

"Ah." Carlos laughed and you stared at the way a thin gold chain glittered around his wrist. "Well, if you know any hair sponsors you'd recommend, let me know."

"Oh, yeah. Done." You said, going back to the previous conversation. "But I'm expecting a cut, then." You said, opening up a locker and beginning to stuff the bags into it. "Hoy por ti - "

" - mañana por mi." Carlos finished the phrase, amused. "It's different in Spanish, though, you know?"

"What is?"

"English you say scratch my back or something. In Spanish it's more about generosity. You take care of me so I will take care of you next."

"Oh." You said, taking in the mini Spanish lesson. Admittedly all your Spanish came from working with Tyler in the garage on Fairfax Ave and, of course, song lyrics. There had been a few funny conversations with Fernando - but nothing intimate such as I will take care of you.

You didn't really know what to say next. Your face was already flushed and you'd probably be able to cook something on your cheek from how hot it was.

You were going to kill your uncle. Real Madrid could win Champions League without him. And even if they didn't - well, Guenther would be happy to see another team finally have a chance.

"Also," Carlos casually continued, unfazed - or not noticing - your lull, "there's going to be a game tomorrow night. I'm not sure if you were planning to watch it."

Thankfully, his words momentarily did distract you from the inner monologue. Real Madrid wasn't playing this weekend. Atletico Madrid was.

Maybe it was Carlos being from Madrid or following the Spanish league religiously but, either way, it wasn't a game you had intended to watch.

"Oh, I mean I like Griezmann." You said, referring to the famed Atletico player, "but I don't watch La Liga games unless Real Madrid is playing." Besides, if you showed any interest in any other team, The Don would have your head. Your uncle still didn't know you owned a jersey of another team. Even if it was only for Mo Salah.

"No, the Liverpool game." Carlos corrected. "They're playing Manchester United, are they not?"

This was surprising. There had been no indication in the past of Carlos ever caring about any other team besides Real Madrid - let alone being that interested a whole other league. If you ever were going to talk EPL with a driver, it was probably a passing conversation with Lewis. Maybe George if the Wolves were involved. And that was when the drivers themselves initiated the conversation.

Max, and his love for your team's biggest rival Barcelona, was who you used to talk to about football, who you used to stay up and watch games or play Fifa with.

And since that was no more, you sort of lost any passion for it.

So this was very much news to you.

Carlos Sainz. Talking to you about EPL.

More than that - asking you if you were going to watch an EPL game.

"Uh, yeah maybe." You finally spoke. During your drive to work, you had vaguely thought about changing your schedule so as to be able to watch the game. You had played around with the idea of doing a workout after your shift tomorrow so you could stay up after qualifying and watch the match.

The only issue was that this would you mean you wouldn't be able to work out before the race on Sunday - and you were definitely going to be stressed working a whole weekend at Ferrari.

But if you watched it you could stream it on one of the TVs in the driver's gym - that way Oscar could workout with you also.

Suffice to say, you hadn't yet made up your mind.

"Lando and I were going to watch it. He's a fan of Manchester United." Carlos said, looking at you expectantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Don."

It was that look which made your eyes widen slightly, the thought suddenly dawning on you: was Carlos asking to watch the game together?

Something erupted in your stomach.

However, your reflex to any driver interaction had immediately kicked in.

"Oh, nice. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to watch it with the schedule. You guys enjoy, though."

Carlos opened his mouth but thankfully someone, a man dressed in the red uniform, appeared in the doorway calling for Carlos. The interruption was very much welcomed as the driver nodded and was resolved to leave you before your body gave you any more confusing signals.

You took a second, a steading second, before you slammed your locked shut and went out to look for Oscar.

“And there’s the young rookie, Oscar Piastri. Looking really good after his amazing win in Jeddah. 9th, outperforming everyone’s expectations!"

“Yes! He’s just arrived with his - is that his trainer?”

“She looks tough enough to be one. Wait is that — “

The commentators immediately realise and change the subject to something else to do with Fernando’s winning streak and Aston Martin’s upgrades. You sigh at the clip that had been playing on the TV in front of you where you could be seen handing him the Antinal Dia had been adamant Oscar have.

Zak had informed Oscar who had informed you about the conversations had between all the TPs about, well, you.

It was startling to say the least. 

"I'm afraid people are starting to catch on." Oscar's PR Manager said with a stern look as she stared at both you and Oscar. Her name was Sophie and despite her young age putting her in the same ball-park as you and Oscar... it still felt like you both were students in trouble, being told off by your teacher.

Oscar had asked you about a Sophie Wright a few months ago. You briefly knew of the girl from her interning days, following other PR members around the McLaren motorhome over the years. She was a little on the shorter side, the chubbier side and, unfortunately, these two appearance traits meant she was excluded from the other PR girls who definitely already had a group chat going.

However, you also knew this meant she would be good at her job. Sophie could blend in the background quietly, unnoticed and do her job well. You also doubted she would easily jump around for a better opportunity and do Oscar dirty. Then there was the fact that when you served her a skinny latte one time, she made sure to read your name badge and thank you with a genuine smile.

And so you had given Oscar the thumbs up.

Never, in a million years, did you think you would be here though. Getting a debrief from her as Sophie tapped on her iPad. You risked a glance at Oscar who looked indifferent and nonplussed.

"Sorry Soph," he said, "but I'm not exactly aware what this means exactly."

There was some noise at the door and in walked Zak Brown himself. He was still talking to someone outside in the hall and said a 'yep, bye!' and then finally turned to address the room he was halfway in. "Ah, here we are. Just the people I need to see." His eyes fell on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

"No trouble at all. I know you're friends with Oscar and just wanting to help him out." Zak said, coming to sit down. "Ah, so you've seen the clips." He looked at the TV where Sophie's iPad was still screensharing the clip from yesterday.

Thursday's media days was always the least loved day for everyone - save for the bloodthirsty journalists. Drivers hated all the mundane questions and the paranoia of microphones and cameras everywhere. And you hated media day because it meant extra long barista shifts.

"Yes, Sophie showed me before but I thought Tezza should see it." Oscar explained, using your nickname. Your heart warmed at how considerate that was. You met his eyes and smiled softly at him. Your love for the kid grew daily.

"Good thinking!" Zak said, nodding agreeably to his driver. You fought to keep your face passive as you regarded the McLaren CEO.

Your opinion of Zak Brown was that he got further than he ever dreamt to get from starring on Wheel of Fortune. And whilst you did admire him for not being brought up in the snobbery and pretentiousness of the generational wealth that F1 tends to circulate through... you did note how he sucked up to the those snobs and their pretentious generational wealth.

Namely, how he did anything and everything for to make Lando Norris happy. In your opinion, it was a lil cringe at times.

"Well, the problem is that it's getting harder and harder for me to just make it out to the rest of the Paddock that you and Oscar are just friends spotting one another at the gym." Zak said. "Christian Horner is running rampant, scared you'll turn Oscar into the next Max Verstappen."

You snorted at this. Unfortunately this drew everyone's attention to you and you knew you would need to explain. "Max and Oscar are polar opposites."

Oscar could very easily become a World Champion without you. He was smart, dedicated and very talented. And whilst Max was all those things, he didn't need someone to train him up so much as tame him down after all that Jos did to him. You guys had just as much sessions on anger management as you had sessions on endurance training.

"Either way, it's coming to be viewed as a breach." Zak said. "And if you breach your contract then - "

"I know." You interrupted him. He didn't need to explain that to you.

"There's also the issue that people think you two are dating." Sophie spoke up from the front. She tapped on her iPad a few times and up came up a few screenshots of Twitter threads hypothesising about the two of you. "Your Twitter had a followed increase of 150% since Oscar followed you. Which didn't help."

"And whose fault was that?" You said, looking at Oscar with an unimpressed look. "You're lucky I deleted that shit so quickly."

"Yeah look, my bad. The timing was off." He said, accepting responsibility. You still remember all the notifications of the Twitter shit-storm Oscar set off. You literally had to delete your account because of it.

"Yes, Christian did bring that up." Zak said. "And it's a good thing Oscar's lovely Lauren is here - "

"Lily, sir." Sophie quickly corrected her boss. You wanted to groan. Oscar just looked down to hide his smile. Under the table, you kicked at his legs.

"Lily! Sorry." He gave a sheepish look to Oscar. "Yes, you and Lily this morning was a good idea."

"Unfortunately, Daniel did like a few of these Tweets." Sophie added, bringing up the screenshots of a Tweet about you and Oscar that was liked by none other than @danielricciardo.

You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palm as you thought of how fucking petty that was. Daniel wasn't a fucking idiot. Aside from the fact that he knew your type - (admittedly, the tall/dark features combination always got you) Oscar was so young.

If anything, you thought of Oscar, genuinely, as a younger brother. As you had Max. Daniel knew that. So he knew exactly what he was doing by liking those kind of fucking Tweets. Tweets you wouldn't put past Red Bull to send out themselves.

Because, if anything, they would be praying it wouldn't be true about you and Oscar. Otherwise Christian Horner wouldn't have any leg to stand on. That was how you got around being connected to Charles, anyway. Family was the exception.

"I know your contract has you tied to only working for Red Bull and Ferrari's drivers but--"

"Red Bull and Charles Leclerc." You corrected in a tight voice, your eyes falling down to the table in front of you. "I was only granted exemption to work with Charles as he was considered family."

This caused him to frown as he pulled out his phone and began typing at it. "I thought you were allowed to work for Red Bull or Ferrari. No new teams."

"Yeah, no." You said, making Oscar chuckle at the Australianism. "No new teams outside of Red Bull and Torro Rosso." You specified.

"Christian didn't say that." Zak said.

"It was kept really quiet." You explained. "Charles was, um, he granted exemption from my Red Bull contract because he - well, he was considered family." You cleared your throat, not able to even look at Oscar. "I was signed for Torro Rosso and Red Bull. Never Ferrari."

"That's not what Toto said at the meeting." Zak said, shaking his head. "He made it seem that you could work for Ferrari."

You said nothing. Toto Wolff had approached you once or twice but your answer had always been the same, no matter what he offered. Eventually, he dropped it. You just didn't realise he dropped it because Toto had sought out the fine print.

"Wait so why aren't you Charles' trainer?" Zak asked, looking up from his phone. "He'd be insane to not have you!"

You froze. How were you supposed to answer that? For once, you had hoped the F1 rumour mill had properly run its course and Zak would know better than to ask that obvious question.

"Eh, Leclerc's loss." Oscar interjected with a casual shrug. "Let's be glad we don't need to worry about that."

The hidden meaning behind his smooth words were clear and you felt your love for the boy increase tenfold at his save.

"What - if I may," Sophie started, trying to be sensitive with her wording and her eyes darted between you and Oscar, "what were the grounds for family?"

You took a moment to think of how you might answer. You really didn't want to but if this might help the boy beside you, you would. "Charles - and I, like, I dunno. We grew up together? Everyone just knew." You pulled at your hoodie sleeve, feeling every bit uncomfortable with the question.

"You didn't date?" Sophie asked. Your face must've shown something very unpleasant because she was quick to amend. "I'm only saying because the grounds for family are always a grey area."

You pressed your lips together and went back to staring at the table. "There was nothing romantic between Charles and I." You said. The room fell silent for a moment as Zak tapped on his screen a few times and then he spoke up.

"You also trained Daniel. He told me in 2021." Zak said and put the phone down and you wanted to roll you eyes. Of course Daniel would say that. "And I don't want to get into all the drama but you were dating him back when you were training Verstappen."

Zak did have a point.

A key point that you had forgotten.

You paused and watched the screen in front of you and the liked by @danielricciardo Tweet. "Christian's always had a soft spot for Daniel so..." You trailed off. "But yeah, you're right. It was fine even though I was contracted to Max under Torro Rosso then Red Bull."

"Hm." Zak said, bringing a hand to his chin as he leaned back, pensive, in his chair. "I can see how romantic grounds could be argued." He said it with a laugh, looking between you and Oscar.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment. You honestly weren't sure if this was just Zak Brown being Zak Brown - i.e saying dumb things to suck up since he was out of his element - or if he actually meant that. Either way, it pissed you off.

Because there was no fucking way you'd let that happen to Oscar.

"No it can't. Contracts aside, I'm not forcing someone I think of as my younger brother into a PR relationship with me." You said.

"It could work, though." Sophie said, taking a professional tone as you turned your glare to her. "This is what I was trying to say before. The Twitter comments about you and Oscar are not necessarily negative. If anything you've helped increased Oscar's public image and Red Bull wouldn't able to say anything about you two on romantic family grounds."

You were seething.

Thankfully, Oscar was more level-headed than you.

"Yeah, look guys. Tezza's pretty but not my type." He finally chimed in, lighthearted. "Besides, I think we should focus more on the car and that way it's a fair advantage to both me and Lando."

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. Oscar smiled at you, chill as always, and you took another breath. You wanted to give the boy a big hug.

"Look, Zak," you said, looking back at the TP, calming down a little more, "I'm sorry. I'm causing you all this shit."

"You got Oscar into the points." Zak waved off. "Don't worry about it. I just want to find a way that works for everyone." You sucked on your teeth. Whilst it was nice to know that Zak Brown was willing to take risks on you also wanted to know how this conversation would've gone if Oscar hadn't finished 9th in Jeddah last weekend.

Such was the way of F1.

Sophie then tapped on her iPad and the TV showed a picture taken by Ky Millman. It was of Oscar hugging you after the win in Jeddah. Some comments were displayed and you found your lips turning up as you read them. They were, as Sophie said, sort of positive.

kymillman

liked by mclaren, saintescuderia and 15'483 others

kymillman SUPPORT FOR SUCCESS! Oscar surprised many with his amazing performance in Jeddah and goes to celebrate with a F1 Hospitality worker and friend @ynusername!

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halaaaamadrid girl help his shoe game pls

ln44girlieee @mclaren we need content from this duo plssss u have them right there

logansversion as if mclaren is going to post a couple?

f1fanforever they're friends?

ln44girlieee idc the level of sarcasm between them would be SO GOOD

oscarpastries i love THIS! 😫😫😫

justanotherinchident omg charles finna be RIOTING!

team44roscoes wait why would charles be upset ?? i thought @ynusername was with dannyric?

maxiel4eva_16 yeh 😒 jumping on all them aussies

You rolled your eyes at the last comment. Maybe it was a good thing you were off Twitter and barely used Instagram anymore.

"It'll be hard to argue that Oscar is family since you haven't known him as long as you did with Charles," Sophie spoke up, bringing your attention back to her, "but we can maybe try to build it up from a PR point a view."

"That Oscar and I are family and not dating?" You asked. Sophie nodded. You looked at Oscar, wanting his confirmation.

"Yeah, sure thing Vin Diesel." He laughed.

"Hey, hey. Fuck you." The grin on your face was contagious and he broke out laughing also. You liked this new idea and turned back to look at Sophie a lot more positively. You were glad McLaren gave Oscar the girl.

"Okay, so what do we do to show the world I've adopted Oscar?" You asked.

"I think you'll find my dad's already half adopted you." Oscar corrected. "He wants to see your Supra."

"That's perfect!" Sophie said, excited. "Maybe Oscar can post a story of the interaction sometime this weekend? Make sure Lily is there. Maybe you can play the tired third wheel of them!" Sophie looked at you as ranted off her ideas. You nodded, suddenly less excited.

Whilst it was nice to know there was a plan in place to help you and Oscar continue to work together, you didn't like the way Sophie said for you 'play' a role. The one, sole consolation you had going for you these past few years was the lack of needing to play any PR role. Hearing Sophie speak was giving you flashbacks to times long gone.

"Happy with that gang?" Zak said, placing his palms on the table. "We'll work on building the PR and hopefully that will get Red Bull off our back as we also improve the car!" He stood up and left, not joining Sophie and Oscar as they said goodbye to the boss.

"Wait, does this mean I need to actually start using Instagram?" You asked.

"Yes." Sophie said. Then she looked up from her iPad. "Don't you? You were tagged in it?"

"Like, I have an account but I stopped using it. I'm pretty sure I deleted the app." You said, pulling out your phone to see that yes, there was no pink app downloaded. You pressed the download button, knowing what was in store for you.

"Download it. You're already at 2.4k followers." She said, bringing up your profile on the TV screen.

"The fuck? I had like three hundred last time I checked."

"Five." Sophie corrected. "Your growth has increased since you started training the F2 winner who follower Y/N Tessio after the most controversial Formula 1 Tweet that ever was Tweeted." Sophie said, eyeing Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I already said sorry about that."

"Do you know how stressful you made my first day? Helen scared me!" Sophie asked, humour on her face. "Though, nothing like jumping in the deep end."

The Instagram app had finishing downloading and you logged onto it - thank you pre-saved passwords - to be met with a fucking plethora of notifications that suddenly had you overwhelmed. As such, you immediately went out of the app and put your phone in your pocket. You could deal with that all later.

"I'm not using Twitter again." You said, thinking back to the Tweets Daniel had liked. "Fuck that."

"Yes, only Tumblr or Reddit over here." Oscar said, pointing to you.

"Tumblr?" Sophie looked at you, surprised.

"Yeah? What of it?" You asked, defensive.

"Nothing. Just surprised. I would ask to follow you but Tumblr is the safe haven of anonymity. I get it." She nodded. "Alright, perfect. I'll draft up a PR plan. In the mean time, do you mind if I review your profile and send you some tips?" Looking at you for the last bit.

"By all means." You said, half wishing you could give her control of it like Oscar and be done with it. You just wanted to be able to work with Oscar without causing him any trouble and not having to worry about this PR bullshit.

"Perfect!" She said, beaming.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text reminder about you needing to go back to check on some dough you'd prepared. Back at Ferrari. You sighed and stood up.

"Alright, sounds good. I gotta get back to work. Take your supplements and electrolytes. The green one." The last bit was aimed at Oscar as you met his eyes and then turned to leave the room and walk, head down, out of the McLaren motorhome.

You took a deep breath as soon as you made it into the open air. With how things were going, it was likely that you would be having another gym session today. You arrived at Ferrari and saw the back of Carlos' head. You felt yourself gulp and turned to hide behind the coffee machine. Maybe you would watch Liverpool play.

The mention of your connection to soccer was also pointed out in the room you had just rushed out of. Sophie made a small sound and rounded on Oscar, shoving something in his face.

"Did you know that half of Real Madrid are following her? Jude Bellingham just commented on the post!"

She stared at Oscar, hoping he might provide an answer. The young driver just shrugged. "She did say something about her uncle coaching a team." Sophie stared at him, incredulous. "How was I to know? I don't watch soccer."

< prev ch [6] | next ch [8] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03

@inlovewmarlenemckinnon @charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo

[beautysamour]

Your beauty never ever scared me

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: figuring out you were a descendant of the darkling messed up everything. with all the backlash you received because of this, your self esteem takes a blow. the company of a certain prince causes you to realize that you aren’t the monster you began to think you were.

warnings: some angst but this has a happy ending

a/n: the nikolai brain rot is real 😔🫶 enjoy! Also this is set before it’s revealed that mal is the third amplifier.

No. No, Baghra was wrong. You knew who you were and who your family was, she was wrong.

You’ve been going over the pieces of dialogue you had with Baghra ever since the sun set in your bed- well one of the palace’ bed. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of being related to him, to sharing his blood, his power.

To having any connection with the darkling.

You were never discovered by the grisha as a kid. Whenever the testers came by, your parents would give you a small cut somewhere on your body that could easily be hidden and at the time you didn’t think much of it- because you could barely remember them doing that.

You never had a good relationship with your parents so you didn’t think anything of it when they’d hurt you. It was just normal.

You never necessarily feared grisha, but you always feared the Fold and by extension, the power of the darkling. To think that all it would take for the Fold to get worse was to piss him off.

And piss him off you did.

During his little demonstration with Alina in the Fold, he tried to get you to join him thinking that you knew. That interaction finally made sense to you.

Feeling your head start to hurt and feeling even worse after realizing what’s in your blood, you turn off the lights in your room and go to bed.

—

“I hope I’m not ruining your day too much, sweetheart.”

Nikolai woke you up early this morning and asked for you to accompany him on a horse ride, “just for fun.” he said.

You knew better though, Nikolai never batted an eye at you since you boarded his- sturmhond-, ship. Alina was always more interesting. You knew that you were respected once you got the palace though, Tolya continuously singed out praises of your name to the army.

You knew that people in the palace had no problem with your presence, until now. Until people learned that you were grisha. Not everyone knows you’re related to the Darkling however, only a few people know.

Including Nikolai.

So you knew better. You knew that the only reason why you were with him right now is because he was told to keep an eye on you, to supervise you. You were now considered to be scum, as you were grisha.

“Wasn’t planning on doing much today, so I’m fine.”

You heard a soft snicker come from Nikolai’ direction but chose to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path in front of you two.

“Right,” he says with a slight grin on his face, “I’m glad, I’d never want to ruin a pretty girls’ mood.” From your peripheral you could see Nikolai observing you, looking for a reaction. He’s use to the normal flush of the cheeks and a stutter through a sentence, but you had no reaction to hearing him call you pretty. He had a rather flirty personality so his words meant nothing to you.

You remained silent hoping he would drop the conversation. You didn’t have anything against Nikolai, you actually really liked him. You could tell that he was going to be the king that Ravka needs.

But there was too much on your mind for you to be able to have small talk.

Nikolai suddenly let out a distressed sigh, “I have a meeting to get to sweetheart, if Vasily wasn’t getting on my back every hour of the day I would’ve stayed all day out here with you,” he pulls the reigns on his horse and turns towards the palaces’ direction, “let’s go back?” He gives you a small guilty smile and tilts his head resembling a puppy begging for a treat.

You nod feeing glad that you’ll be able to fully indulge in your thoughts and pull the reigns on your horse, riding back to the palace.

—

“She’s a monster!”

Nikolai was tempted to raise his voice, he and Vasily have been at it for the past hour. Yesterday, news got out that you were grisha- the soldiers gossip- and Vasily immediately told Nikolai that he should make you leave. Nikolai fought back against that idea and to get Vasily to shut up for at least a day about you, he agreed to “spy” on you.

“Nothing has changed, she’s still the same person Tolya constantly praised, and that you wanted as your bride.”

Nikolai did not want to have this conversation again. You were still the same girl he met on the ship, the two of you may have not interacted as much but he still saw you.

You were nothing like the Darkling and he had no problem reminding his brother of how infatuated he was with you.

“That was before I realized she was his kin, a monster just like him!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, finding it harder to control his raising temper. Vasily paced around his room, repeatedly mumbling out curses in the remembrance of previously touching you.

He was disgusted and he, like many other people in the palace, wanted you gone. He stopped pacing when Nikolai straightened his back before getting up from his chair and walking to the door of the room, indicating that this little meeting was over. “Nikolai,” Vasily called out in a strained voice, “Think about the people.”

Nikolai felt his body freeze. Think about the people. Oh, he was thinking about the people. You were no threat, maybe to your enemies but not his people. Not wanting to lash out at his brother, Nikolai took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Good night, brother,” he decides to say. He faces his body towards him and while still trying to keep his composure, he sends his brother a sharp glare with eyes filled with pure irritation, “I will not change my mind.”

—

You pressed your head further into your pillow trying to block out the obnoxious knocks that were coming from your door. Who could possibly already be in need of your presence?

After a few more seconds of the continuous knocks getting more aggressive and louder, you gave in to the persistent demands for you to open the door and got up.

“It’s really quite early,” you said through loose lips. You abruptly finished your sentence, a slight feeling of panic rushing into your body. Nikolai Lantsov. He was here again, the people must be getting more weary of you if he felt the need to visit you again.

You didn’t bother fixing up your hair or straightening out your evening wear before opening the door and you greatly regretted not doing so at the moment, you dropped your shoulders feeling embarrassed that he saw you in an unprofessional state.

He put on a slight smile in attempt to charm you, which he succeeded at, you internally pushed away that feeling of giddiness and straightened your posture waiting for him to speak.

“Yes it is quite early, that’s why I came here,” his eyes trail down your body and back up to your eyes before outstretching an arm, “breakfast?”

“Uh,” you stutter out, “sure, just let me…clean myself up.” You awkwardly moved your gaze from him trying to avoid how awkward this situation was as you closed your door- his was mid sentence in saying of course he’ll wait- but your door closed before he was able to finish.

You sat down in the chair that was in front of a middle sized mirror just above the table. You stared at your reflection for a few seconds before bringing your hands up to cover your face and curling your body into yourself. You much prefer not having the Prince’ attention.

—

It’s been a little over three months since Nikolai invited you for breakfast and you’ve begun to question his actual intentions.

He comes to your room each morning and invites you for breakfast and shares most of his hours with you, but all of these hangouts tend to follow your own terms.

If you wanted to go back to your room, Nikolai would simply walk you to your room, kiss the back of your hand, and continue his day without you. Usually you’d be the one to reach out to him during these days if you decided you wanted to be outside your room again.

You almost forgot that he had a duty as being a prince and that you were related to their current number one enemy. And you almost forgot that people still feared grisha. Almost.

People talk and rumors spread fast, you and Nikolai weren’t invisible whenever you two walked around the palace grounds. Inevitably people began to gossip.

Nikolai was always with you, he spoke of finding a bride openly around you which has caused some people to theorize about your relationship with him. The most common theory was that you were using him, that you used your grisha powers as a threat against him, that you would hurt the people if he did not enter a romantic relationship with you.

You tried to block them out. Nikolai never brought those rumors up so you assumed he just never heard them, well you weren’t going to be the one to tell him about it. What if he hears them then realizes that they might be right, that he was an idiot for ever letting his guard down around you.

As much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t deny the way your heart would race every morning, every time he knocked on your door and offered his arm. Every time he’d invite you into his personal quarters and give you that stupid smile paired with a tilt of his head that made you want to do anything he’d ask of you.

He made you feel like you weren’t a monster, that you weren’t a threat. You didn’t want to loose his trust, and you didn’t want to loose him. The amount of trust he has put in you threw you in for a loop, you’ve been constantly arguing with yourself over whether or not he’s being genuine or is still keeping an eye on you.

You couldn’t fault him if he was just doing this to keep an eye on you still, the Darkling has been visiting you, just like he was been with Alina.

“Sweetheart?”

You immediately tore your eyes away from the food in front of you after hearing his voice. In front of you; Nikolai was leaning slightly forward his eyebrows furrowed giving his face a worried expression.

“Yes?” You replied. You don’t know how long it’s been since you zoned out, but when you pick up your silver ware to put some of the food in your mouth it was cold.

Nikolai let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding, “Did you hear what I said?”

Shit.

You opened your mouth to say a lie, yes, but you knew that he’d immediately call your bluff. He was observant, too observant sometimes. He had a talent for reading people.

“No,” you decided to say, “sorry, I zoned out.”

He leaned back in his chair and relaxed his eyebrows, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been telling you about my day and you zone out? Do I really not matter to you?” He whines.

Nikolai had a thing for theatrics, especially when it was to tease someone. Seeing that you had no regret in your gaze towards him, he lets out another breath and gives in to the smile he was holding back.

“That’s alright, this means that I can spend more time with you.” His wholesome smile now turning into a flirtatious grin, he puts his forearms on the table and leans closer to your face, “I do quite enjoy your company anyways.” His smile slightly drops as his eyes also fall to your lips then back to your eyes.

Lately you two have been having more moments like this, where the two of you fall into moments like these where Nikolai’ flirting feels more genuine.

The one thing that hasn’t changed throughout these few months of you two hanging out was that you knew better. Flirting was a regular thing for Nikolai, and because of that you let out a laugh causing Nikolai to lean back; seeming to now be avoiding your gaze.

“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me? The big bad grisha,” you tease. You felt a little disappointed at seeing that he was avoiding your gaze, Nikolai wasn’t the type to back away from flirting. You lean forward on the table, “Saints Nikolai, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.”

Taking your teasing tone as a dare, he returned his gaze to you and leaned forward on the table coming dangerously close to your face. This time you were taken aback, and ever the observer, he saw. He accompanied his smug expression with a smirk, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.” His voice turned into a whisper as he finished his sentence.

He waited for you to do something. He wanted to see how long you’d last, for what exactly, well only Nikolai really knows that.

You counted your heartbeats, and three heartbeats later Nikolai dropped his gaze and turned his head as he let out a snicker, “Just messing around princess,” he straightened his back and got out of his seat, “we leave before sundown.”

You watched as he left the dining area, a little confused at what he meant about leaving before sundown but then you remembered; the mission.

“Shit.”

—

“Nikolai,” you called out to him as you walked into his tent, “why is my tent all the way on the other side of camp?”

This mission really wasn’t that dangerous compared to everything else that was going on but you didn’t want to gamble Nikolai’ life, since he was a prince.

“Good evening to you to sweetheart,” he said in a lighthearted tone before putting down the letter in his hand, “can’t keep your mind off of me?”

He was right, you couldn’t.

You let out a scoff slightly annoyed, “What if you get attacked? And I’m all the way on the other side of camp- I wouldn’t be able to help!”

Mirroring his actions earlier in the day, his refused to meet your gaze as he leaned back in his chair. “If I were to get attacked, you’d be safe. I have people with me- fighters who’ll be able to protect me if I somehow am not able to protect myself. You don’t need to worry.”

You exhaled as you felt yourself deflate. You wanted to say more but you knew that it wouldn’t matter once the conversation ended. All you would’ve succeeded at was creating some unnecessary tension between the two of you, with you being annoyed, which Nikolai thought was already out of character with you getting upset about something so small, and Nikolai being busy.

You glanced back at him before turning around to leave his tent, resembling a toddler who got upset after hearing they couldn’t get a toy they wanted.

Hearing your footsteps get further away, Nikolai lifted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head and picking up the letter again.

—

Nikolai lifted his head from his desk as soon as he heard a deafening scream, immediately on high alert and running out of his tent. The first thing that greeted Nikolai were soldiers running. Tents were on fire and the once peaceful camp was now overwhelmed with chaos.

Instead of his first thought being to get his people out of this ambushed camp, which was his second, he wanted to get to you. Now he regretted putting your tent on the other side of camp, now he had no idea where you were or if you were ok.

He started running to your side of the camp before getting blocked by a drüskelle-

“Desjenet!” yelled out the drüskelle. Nikolai began to reach out for his sword but made no action to take it out yet. “I’m not grisha-“

“But you protect them,” seethed out the drüskelle, “you are an enemy if you protect them.”

Not leaving anytime for Nikolai to respond, the drüskelle lunged forward but was never able to make contact with Nikolai. The man began to sway before falling apart. His head, upper body, and lower body all disconnect from each other as he falls to the ground, a dark wisp of smoke fading into the air as he does.

Nikolai didn’t take much time looking at the corpse in front of him when he heard another scream, forcing him to look up and see who was responsible for the death.

You. There you are standing in front of him, seemingly frozen in place and regret immediately floods into your veins. You just killed some using his power. You looked up at Nikolai and suddenly felt the need to throw up. So much to not wanting him to see you as a monster.

Nikolai, remembering that someone screamed, moved his gaze to the soldier a few feet away from you who had seemed to have seen you kill a man using the Darkling’ power. “Monster…” the soldier whimpered out before running away.

Nikolai had the urge to curse out his soldier but swallowed that urge down, the camp was still on fire and the two of you needed to get out. He ran over to you and grabbed you by the arm. “Are you alright,” he asks. You avoid his gaze. When you don’t answer he begins to start running, with his hand still on your arm dragging you through the camp, trying to find a horse.

He felt you stiffen and he felt you resist your urge to pull away from him. He wanted to look back at you, to talk to you face to face and assure himself that you’re alright but he decides against it. You guys will talk once you get back to the little palace.

—

You’ve been in Nikolai’ personal quarters before but you’ve never been on his bed. You’re sure your thoughts would’ve been completely incoherent if you weren’t so caught up about using the cut.

Saints, you were truly a monster.

Nikolai entered the room, he was checking up with his soldiers and making sure everyone or at least most of the people who were at the camp came back here. If there were any that didn’t, a rescue squad was already sent out.

You didn’t bother to look at Nikolai as he sat down on the edge of his bed next to you. You couldn’t look at him, you didn’t even want him to speak. You couldn’t bare to hear him call you a monster-

“Are you alright,” he says instead.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He chuckles. You thought you’d never hear that again, you never he thought he’d bring you back to the palace.

“I’m alright. Now, are you going to give me an answer?”

You don’t give him an answer for a few seconds. Then suddenly the confusion become to hard to contain, “Why did you bring me back here?”

He turns his head to you and tilts it, now being the confused one, “You’re one of my soldiers, why would I not?”

“Because I’m a monster!” You blurt out. You don’t get why he cared, and now you’re really questioning if he was just spying on you the entire time or not, it seems like he was not.

“I’m not just a grisha Nikolai, I’m related to the enemy, I used to his power to kill someone right in front of you! Now everyone in the palace knows I’m related to him, all the soldiers are weary of me and it makes it even worse that I’m close to you. You’re reputation is getting corrupted because you’ve been seen with me.”

He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on you and lets you continue.

“The people think I’m- that I’m using my power to manipulate you and seeing how you had no reaction to me using the cut, they might come to some stupid conclusion that you’re actually conspiring with the enemy-“

“Y/N.” He finally interrupts, “Is that what’s been on your mind for these past few months?”

The last time he called you by your name was when he was Sturmhond. Hearing him call you by your name succeeded at making your heart ache even more.

“Yes,” you say, “so I don’t understand why I’m still here.”

You turn your head to meet his eyes and regret it immediately. The amount of intensity in his eyes is enough to make you choke on your saliva.

“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. You can’t figure out if he’s trying to change the topic or maybe you just smell that bad. Maybe changing the topic is what you needed before you end up having a full on mental break down in front of him.

“Ok,” you whisper. Nikolai gets up and walks to his bathroom, soon you hear the sound of water entering his bathtub. Noticing that you didn’t follow him, Nikolai sticks his head out of his bathroom and gestures you to come into his bathroom.

Even though the atmosphere was rather uncomfortable, you still…liked him. So being invited into such a personal space still managed to make you shy.

Nikolai is leaning against his bathtub when you enter his bathroom. Hearing you enter, Nikolai lifts his head up to look at you then glances at your face, your hair, and your body before getting up to give you some alone time.

Getting a random surge of boldness you grab his hand and keep him in place. He turns his head to look at you and tilts his head in confusion, once again resembling a puppy.

“Can you…stay,” you cringe internally after hearing those words come out and avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush. You hear a cough, as if someone was trying to stifle a laugh.

“Ok.”

You’re thankful that he doesn’t tease you for asking him to stay, the atmosphere is still rather uncomfortable for that.

He keeps his back turned to give you some privacy as you undress. Once you finish undressing, you fold your clothes and tuck them into a corner that you were sure wouldn’t get wet.

You cleared your throat once you fully got into the tub, “You can turn around now.”

From your peripheral, you see Nikolai sit down on a stool that was right next to his bathtub. “Do you need help cleaning yourself?” He asks.

You should’ve shaken your head because you’re fully capable of cleaning yourself, but you couldn’t fight back the giddiness in you that manifested at the thought of a physically intimate moment with Nikolai. So you nod.

Nikolai picks up a small towel and rubs it on a bar of soap before putting it on your body. You hoped he wasn’t able to see your red face as you flushed even more when he started moving the towel.

“You aren’t a monster.” He says instead once again, “You haven’t changed at all,” you turned your head to look at him but he didn’t meet your eyes, his eyes focused on your body as he cleaned it. “You’re still the same girl that boarded Sturmhond’ ship. You’re still caring, and thoughtful. You still overthink and stress too much on what other people think of you, but you’re also confident at the same time. You know your worth and you simply want to make sure other people do to.” He moves you hair out of the way as he moves the towel to the back of your neck.

“Actually maybe you aren’t the same girl I met. But you’re not to blame for that.” You didn’t think it was possible but your heartbeat began to thump even harder at feeling his hand, even though it was separated by a towel, on your neck. Oh, and also by his words. You didn’t think he noticed you that much when he was Sturmhond.

Suddenly he looked up and you looked away.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-

“You aren’t the Darkling. You saved me. Well I mean, drüskelle are strong, I admit, but they wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”

You could hear the grin on his face, it was attempt to lighten the mood, to see if you felt better.

“You’re power doesn’t determine what you are, Y/N, how you use it determines that. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t used it unjustly.” He curled his index finger under your chin and put his thumb on your chin to turn your head, so you’d finally be looking at him. “Don’t let your fear of your power determine your worth.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you got lost in his eyes. Yes, you were listening to him and it made your heart ache in a good way at hearing his words, but feeling his touch made it difficult to concentrate.

“Ok,” you whispered. You looked down, fully processing his words. You weren’t a monster. You weren’t a monster.

You weren’t a monster.

Noticing the sides of your lips slowly lift, Nikolai felt a small smile form on his face and lets go of your face. He failed to see how the sides of your lips slightly went down.

Feeling that the atmosphere felt more light, you attempted to make a joke, “Well, are you just going to sit there?”

“Hm?” Nikolai raises an eyebrow at your question. Did you want him out…?

“You’re not going to join me?”

Without missing a beat, Nikolai speaks up, “Do you want me to?” It wasn’t meant to be teasing, but it easily came off as such.

Fully expecting Nikolai to say something a little more…bold, his nonchalant yet teasing question caused you to look away from him, again, feeling embarrassed at your bold “joke.”

Nikolai lets out a laugh that makes you swoon. Saints, the affect this man had on you was embarrassing.

“Saints Y/N, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.” He says, mirroring your previous conversation.

You turn your head back at him and take a moment to figure out what you want to say in return, you decide to say something you’ve heard before. Leaning slightly towards him but still managing to cover your cleavage, you say, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.”

Nikolai freezes completely, not sure how to react to that. Yes, he wants you to commit, he wants you, but do you want him? He’s sure that he’s been interpreting your feelings as romantic correct, but he still had that thought of just maybe, maybe he was wrong.

Nikolai was never one to back off from a challenge however, so he leans forward and rests his forearms of his knees; leaning in closer to your face, “Yes,” he says, “I do.”

He brings one his hands up to the side of your face and cups it, leaning in closer but leaving enough room to still be able to back away if he was reading this all wrong. He looks into your eyes and practically pleads for your approval, for you to let him kiss you.

When all you do is lean closer, Nikolai fully closes the distance and connects his lips with yours.

As one could expect from a kiss with Nikolai, it was passionate and loving and deep. You could feel how deep his feelings for you ran and you could feel all of his feelings. Growing impatient, for some reason, Nikolai grabbed the back of you neck to deepen the kiss. He brought his other hand up to your bottom lip and brushed it down. Realizing what he wanted, you opened your mouth and to your surprise; Nikolai whined into the kiss.

Finding it funny that Nikolai was a whiner, you began to laugh. It started with small giggles but then turned into actual laughs causing Nikolai to pull away and slightly deadpan at you.

When you didn’t stop laughing, Nikolai leaned back and let out a sigh, opting to just let you finish laughing.

“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t take you as a whiner,” you say before you burst out laughing again.

Nikolai continued to watch you laugh with a slightly annoyed, but adoring, expression before brushing your hair out of your face. “You know, you never answered my question.”

You wipe fake tears out of your eyes as you try to calm down, “huh?”

“When I asked if you wanted me to commit to you, you never gave me an answer.”

“I think my answer is quite obvious now.” You let out a soft laugh before Nikolai spoke again.

“Yes well, I want to hear it.” Nikolai leans forwards again but not as close as before, just close enough to where he could you whisper yell, “I want to hear that you want me.” He finishes with a slight smirk.

You look away from him, getting flustered again. He really wanted to hear you profess your feelings for him, huh.

As you were getting flustered you remembered that Nikolai was a whiner. As much as you wanted Nikolai, he was arguably more desperate for you. So why not tease him a little more?

You leaned forward again, not bothering to cover your cleavage anymore, and pressed your lips onto his, but not necessarily kissing him. “Alright my prince,” you whisper out. The smirk on his lips immediately drop as he tries to kiss you again but then you pull away, and before he could whine again, you leaned forward again. “I want you to commit to me. I want you.” Nikolai could barely focus at feeling your lips brush onto his, feeling as if he didn’t kiss you right here right now, he’d go crazy.

Feeling smug, you pull away from him to which he immediately follows. He puts his hand on the back of your neck once again and pulls you forward, connecting your lips again.

He groaned this time at the feeling of your lips on his.

[james-is-here]

oh? OH? 👀 🫢

Part two

Blogs: @heartbinn

Tags: Angst, my first hurt/no comfort cause I have a soft heart and could never go through with it, Chan is the one not getting comfort, Members forget Mn, Made the manager...attached to Mn? He's just as sad to see you go.

Lmk if any other tags are needed. Feedback and comments are welcome, it makes me so happy seeing how you thought of my writings.

You realized something was off when you were 'forgotten' for the second live stream in a row. You don't know when it happened. How it started. You just started noticing more and more that you were being left out.

"Sorry, Mn, I thought you were busy. Didn't think to invite you." They always thought you were busy.

"Hectic schedule, I'm sorry." You guys have the same schedule, that's not an excuse.

"I'm sorry, Jagi, I thought that was tomorrow." Even Chan forgot things.

You never use to be like this. You were all once connected, always talking, always hanging out when there was time. They listened to your feedback, they agreed with your inputs, and when they needed, they'd go to you for comfort.

Now it's like you're a ghost. Present but not visible. You look like a deer caught in headlights when they talk about stuff that you haven't been caught up on. There was one time in the choreography that you were to catch one of the boys and you stood around aimlessly and ended up getting yelled at. You yelled right back because they never tell you anything and you didn't know you had to catch one of them. It wasn't fair!

"Mn, you could've hurt Jeongin! Why didn't you catch him?!" "How could I have caught him if I didn't know that was the next move! You guys don't tell me anything anymore!" "Yeah we do!" "Christopher, Don't lie! You are doing it too!" "Mn!" You didn't care that you disrespected him and used his full first name. You were annoyed.

Your breaking point was two things. The first was when you had to find out about an upcoming album through your manager. He had sent you a preview photo of the album cover and you flew into a panic attack. New Album? When? How? They decided on things without you? You're apart of the group too, how could they not have realized you weren't there?!

The second was when you were waiting...and waiting...and waiting in Chan's room. He had promised a movie night for your anniversary and yet four hours later than when he promised, he still wasn't there. You just left his room, red eyed and absolutely pissed. That night, he didn't even check on you when he came home.

It took a couple days but you had officially left Stray Kids. You couldn't take the neglect anymore, it was unfair, uncalled for. Your manager was sad to see you go but he understood, even he noticed the others neglect but it seemed that when he told them off it went through one ear and out the other.

You packed at night, taking about half an hour to debate if you wanted to take memories of being in the group but instead you just took down the photos of you and the boys and cut yourself out, leaving just the boys along with the few albums and photo cards you kept on your desk, throwing the pieces of you in the waste bin underneath.

Tears streamed down your face as you packed your suitcase. Midway, your realized you folded the two hoodies Chan gave you. You lay one on your bed but decide to keep the white one as you zip up your luggage and start packing your other one.

Leaving in the cover of night let you leave without seeing their faces, without seeing possible confusion or pity pleads to have you stay. In the days it took to be out of the group, you also managed to get accepted into another company. You would've stayed at JYPE if it didn't mean you'd still see the boys that once brought you joy, if you stayed you'd have to put up with them trying to talk you back into the group. You just can't seem to trust them anymore.

You ex-manager was nice enough to take you to your home where you're staying until you can properly integrate into your new company, possibly into a new group. You heard that the company knew you and would be helping you to try and join a group or even help you become a soloist.

That morning, the boys went on with their lives, completely oblivious. It wasn't until after practice and recording that they were finishing up and getting ready to leave the room they gathered in to discuss the album when Chan looked around and finally noticed. "Wait...Where's Mn?" Their manager looked at Chan and the others before sighing. "Really? Haven't I yelled at all of you to stop ignoring him? It took you almost all day to realize?" Your manager felt really bad for what they were doing to you so he did get a bit heated.

"What do you mean?" The manager sighs before guiding the boys out. "Let's get to the dorms." Is all he says. When they get there, the manager makes them sit on the couch, hands on his hips. "Have any of you really realized that you were excluding Mn? I asked him about the album cover and he told me that he didn't even know a comeback was planned to happen. He also told me that you yelled at him for almost dropping Jeongin but you guys never told him or showed him the choreo, how could he have caught him if he didn't even know what was going on?"

With a deep sigh, the manager looks down at the floor before delivering the news. "Mn signed out four days ago..." He looks back up to the boys, staring at him wide eyed. "What?" "He's gone, Chan. I took him home last night." "W-Well, we'll see him at the company at some point right? So he's not-" "He's moving to KQ. He thought that if he stayed at JYPE you guys would stop him at any opportunity to try and get him back. They're already looking to either put him in a group or help him be a soloist." Han was the first to move, running past the manager to run to your room.

The others hear him cry out a moment later then return with your cut photos in his hands. "He's gone..." A few others run to see it for themselves as Han drops the cut photos next to Chan and slides down the nearby wall to cry into his hands.

Chan picked up one of the photos. A picture of you and him, a selfie with him hugging you from behind with his chin on your shoulder. He remembered the negative space where you were, you had your head turned, looked at him with so much love and a bright smile that matched his.

"I'm sorry, Chan...but he was tired of being just a shadow. I wanted him to reconsider but I saw everything and I knew it would be worthless." He saw in the corner of his eyes some members trying to call you only to huff when they got your voicemail.

Years later, they still felt hallow. They were happy and working well but they still felt empty. They know you've blocked them but they still texted you or tried to call you even after this long.

Telling Stay was really hard, they just told them it was for mental health issues but some Stays also noticed the neglect and pieced it together, especially when some fans noticed you in another group.

They were backstage getting ready to preform at the award ceremony the main title from their new album, decked in pirate like outfits with layers and accessories but still dressed a minimum amount to be able to dance.

Chan was helping Felix with his headset when Felix caught something out of the corner of his eye. "Mn!" His eyes widen as a smile took over his dropped jaw and the others turn in the direction Felix is looking. You stop hearing your name, turning to see who it was only to stare at the group of boys unmoving. Felix's hand hesitated before waving at you with a gentle smile.

It's been so long that you were honestly thrown off by how much they've grown and how handsome they've become. You see Jeongin smile at you and you notice his braces are gone, Hyunjin has grown his hair out along with Felix. These little details are forgotten the moment you feel a hand on the side of your face and you turn back around. "Hey." You smile, Seonghwa completely taking your attention as you watch him smile in return, your hands resting on his waist. "Come on, Jagiya. We've been waiting for you." He says, leaning forward to give you a quick peck but you pull him back to you for a slightly longer kiss before you take his hand and he takes you back to the table.

You heard their gasp when you kissed Seonghwa but honestly, you didn't care. You were seen in Ateez, heard and included way more than you ended up becoming in Stray Kids.

Chan's heart was crushed, he honestly had hope that you guys could talk it out but also knew there was no way but he still hoped. His tears blurred his vision as he let a sob left him, he tried not to let them fall, he had to go on stage soon, but it hurt. He had lost not just a member but someone he actually truly loved. He didn't mean to forget him, he didn't mean to push him away. The regret of not realizing sooner still weighed heavily on his shoulders after this long.

The way you held Seonghwa was the same way you'd hold him. The smile and shine in your eye you gave the other idol was the same you'd give to him, the same one in the taped photo that still remains on his desk after he found the other half. The members also have the other photos, taped as well and put on the fridge.

What crushed Chan the most in that moment?

You didn't look back as Seonghwa took you away.

pssst, I would write more Ateez but I don't fully know their dynamics and personalities completely so I'll probably just insert them like I did in this fic 😁

[gucciwins]

Not Another Rockstar

A/N: this is short but I love everything about it! if you love this, please let me know. might have to turn it into a mini series 🤭

+

Harry didn’t want to go out but Paul insisted. Something about supporting his girlfriend’s friend band. He wasn’t even sure who he was there for. All he knew was that he would be getting free pint’s from their good friend Ayo all night long. 

It was a small venue that resembled more of a bar than a concert venue. Whatever band was playing had a lot of fans because it was crowded. Harry remained at a corner table with Paul and Adam. They were chatting about Mitch’s wedding happening in a few months. Harry was the best man and by the looks of it would be attending alone. Everyone had told him to take anyone as a date but it was an important night for Mitch and him. He couldn’t take a random stranger. Plus he liked the idea of getting drunk and not remembering the night after his speech. 

“What’s the group's name?” Harry found himself asking after the opener finished his five songs. 

“Cleopatra," Adam told him. 

Interesting name.

He wasn’t sure how long until the show was to begin but he needed to take a piss. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

The men brushed him off. Harry had never been to this place and could not find the restroom to save his life. There were no signs anywhere so Harry kept walking aimlessly. He somehow made it through a door but it only led him to a long corridor 

“And who might you be?” A woman called out behind him.

Harry turned around to find the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He knew she was talking to him as the hallway was empty. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Harry never had a problem with the ladies. He was a charming person but at this moment it’s as if he’s never spoken to a woman before. 

“Uh, Harry. I’m Harry. Was looking for the men’s room.”

She bit back a smile, “thought they had those out front, not backstage.” 

“It’s my first time here,” he confessed. “Should have asked for help. Am I going to get kicked out now?”

The pretty lady shakes her head. “No, you’re lucky you found me and not Annabelle. She’s not as kind.”

“True to her name then.” 

She cocks her head, “excuse me?” 

Harry curses under his breath. He fucked this up. “Like the horror movie, Annabelle. She’s kind of uh a lot.” 

She nods as if taking in his words. “Never made that connection. But yes, there’s a bit of truth to that.” 

“I uh-I-I ha-ave to get back.” 

“So soon,” she pouts. 

“The show. I’m here for the show.” 

She smirks, “I hope you enjoy.”

Harry starts to walk away when she calls his name. He turns around to find her leaning against the wall. “The name’s Y/N. I’ll find you after the show," she promises. And like that she’s gone. 

He’s left in a daze. Harry manages to find his way to his friends but when he does there is a new drink on the table. He doesn’t think twice before chugging it down. 

“Wow, you okay, man?” Paul looks at him confused.

“Fine,” Harry breathes out.

Adam pats him on his back, “show’s starting in a few minutes.” 

Harry is thankful, something to take his mind off of her. 

Before Harry can get lost in thought the lights go dark and the screams erupt in the room. The drums are the first thing to start then come in the guitars. It's a nice intro, he's going to look up their music once he's home. A pink light shines on stage for a few seconds before landing on the lead singer and an angelic room fills his ears. 

As his eyes focus on the band on stage, he feels his heart stop when he spots the girl from backstage. Y/N is center-stage singing to a mesmerized crowd.

She has a blue guitar strapped to her front. She’s wearing a red corset that makes her boobs look like every man’s dream. She paired it with a black mini skirt of similar material. Her red lips have him enthralled as she sings into the microphone. The crowd is entirely hers. She's prancing around owning the stage knowing that every person in the room has their eyes on her.

Harry knows he’s screwed. Their is no way he’d have a chance with her not when he feels he fucked it up.

[tofuxtea]

𝟕:𝟎𝟒 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — murdoc (2016) x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — nsfw, explicit, reader needs something, murdoc wants something in return, oral (fem!receiving) murdoc is an asshole, hair pulling, quickie (?), face fucking, panty stealing, murdoc uses readers panties, lowkey nose kink lol, clit sucking, tongue fucking, slight overstimulation

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — NOT PROOFREAD! literally stayed up til 7am to finish this bc i refused to not finish it. i had this idea when i watched like the second episode he was in and i couldnt get it out. also i need more david dastmalchian esp jack delroy, murdoc, johnny, and james lewis moots pleasepleaseplease

you were pissed. that much was obvious when you stormed into the prison with a slim folder between your tense fingers and a scowl etched into your typically stoic features.

you had demanded the guards get him into the interrogation room before you got there and told them to keep away from the door for the next hour. though they weren’t allowed to do so, they refused to fall into your vicious crosshairs.

they did as they were told, and the second you swung open the door to the stuffy, metal room you were met with a smug grin and taunting stare.

neither of which wavered even when you slammed the manilla folder onto the table in front of him and used that same hand to backhand him right across his cheek. your fingers closed around the collar of his plain white shirt before he could fully process the strike and you forced his body back upright. his handcuffs rattled with the motion. the proximity should have scared him.

“you sold us out?” your voice bounced off of the walls like a gunshot had rung out. but murdoc didn’t flinch. instead, his smile steadily grew until he was laughing in your hands.

honestly, you should have expected this. the consequences of trusting a sociopathic assassin like him. known for lying about any and everything, completely indifferent about who he hurts and the amount of chaos he creates.

you made the stupid mistake of placing what should have been the satisfying wrap-up to a very important mission in his hands and ended up getting double crossed, and your coworker and good friend almost killed. in whatever time murdoc had between your meeting with him and what was supposed to be a surprise confrontation, he gave away every last detail to whoever knew of your connections with him.

luckily, the phoenix foundation had never known a loss thanks to macgyver. he narrowly managed to flip the score and gain the upper hand in a heavily disadvantaged fight, giving your team just enough room to make just a few arrests. the rest were able to escape.

but despite the half victory, you knew it wouldn’t happen every time. so you had to remind your little informant who he belonged to.

your hold tightened on his shirt, and finally his cuffed wrists rose as a meek defense. “oh, come on sweetheart. i’m flattered you thought so highly of me, but i’ve told you before. my service only goes to the higher bidder now.” his voice was calm and condescending. it pisses you off.

you held him still for several seconds, debating on painting his cheekbone purple before shoving him back into his chair. it was so forceful, you heard the thin legs grit and scrape against the ground. murdoc chuckled lowly. “you’re strong for such a small thing, aren’t you?”

your eyes shot daggers into his own, but you control yourself. the team would only fall into deeper shit if you pushed him into a non-verbal state. they were relying on you, even if they had no idea you had come back here.

“you’re going to tell me who these people are, and where they might’ve gone.” you instructed, voice low and sharp. murdoc’s eyebrows twitched upwards as you flipped the folder open and spread several papers onto the table.

he glanced down at them, eyes shifting left and right like he was tracking a moving dot. “need i remind you? again?” his empty brown eyes came back up to you. his smile returned. “why should i?”

right. payment. in truth, you had shown up completely empty handed, boldly praying that you could get him to comply and the answers would merely fall out of him. maybe a punch or two. but this was murdoc. he felt nothing.

your jaw tightened when you came up with nothing. he seemed to sense that before you could say it and he scoffed out a laugh. “oh, then i’m afraid you came all this way for nothing, sweetheart.”

that was the second time he’d called you that. it felt almost dehumanizing coming from him, especially paired with the not-so-subtle observation he stole of your figure. though, it seemed to strike something in him, and the corner of his lips lifted.

“you know, i might be willing to settle for a second place offer.” murdoc held your gaze with a newfound intensity, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. dealing with many men in your profession, you knew that look all too well.

your stomach lurched. though you couldn’t tell if it was in a nauseating or interested way, seeing as your stomach suddenly tensed so badly it really could have been either. the man was attractive, there was no denying that. but still, you’d never pictured a situation like this with him before.

murdoc tsked at your shock. “i have needs.” he said matter-of-factly with a small shrug. his handcuffs clinked against his chair.

“i thought you had to be human for that.” you shot back.

every bone in your body told you to pack the file back up and leave him hanging. that was what your best judgment was screaming at you to do. not to entertain a maniac like him and put yourself at such a risk. but for some reason your feet were glued to the floor. you couldn’t move.

murdoc actually looked offended by your words, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “i can be as human as you need me to be. just say the word.” his voice dropped, suddenly teetering towards gravelly. “you need something, i want something. my prices really don’t get this low, you know.”

knowing murdoc, his idea of ‘needs’ was bound to put you in some compromising position. you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t. but the way he was looking up at you with what could only be described as pleading eyes forced your refusal back down your throat.

then, his lips spread into a victorious grin. you noticed his sharp canine fangs for the first time. “good girl.” he breathed. he shifted to face you, reaching out to inch you closer to him with one hand. the distance between you two was already microscopic, but it got even thinner as he gently eased your legs in between his parted knees.

the chain that bound his wrists together granted him far too much leeway, you noticed when he planted his hands on either side of your waist.

your clammy palm pressed onto the table’s surface beside you to balance yourself, finding your guard was beginning to slip away. a heavy sigh escaped from your nostrils and your eyes squeezed shut while you took in your position.

you could back out now, you thought. there would be no shame in it. you’re only caught up in the moment now. he stunned you. that was all. you didn’t have to do this. you didn’t want to do this, you corrected, more loudly in your head this time.

murdoc’s fingers began to massage your hips over the skirt of your form fitting black dress, drawing you out of your meditative space. your eyes found his when they snapped open, and murdoc hummed.

“no need to worry, sweetheart. i know what i’m doing.” like that made you feel any better. he also knew what he was doing when he killed dozens of people.

you let a sigh slip past your lips when his hands traveled downward, inching towards the hem of your dress. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say there were two guards behind that door. but there isn’t, is there?” he asked lowly and knowingly, shooting a glance over to the locked door you had come in from.

your response was reluctant. if you told him he was right, he could easily use his position to overpower you and get out. but if you let him believe the guards were there doing their job, would he stop? you looked down at him, then down where his hands were gently massaging your upper thighs.

“no, they’re not.” you replied truthfully.

“good.” murdoc quickly replied. he moved you so that you stood in front of the table. your expression shifted to one of curiosity. “you can be as loud as you’d like.”

your face flushed hot at his words. how he said them so casually and cockily despite being (almost) completely at your mercy.

his fingers hooked onto the bottom of your dress and pulled it up to your waist, sighing with admiration as he took in the sight of your black panties. you gasped at the abrupt exposure, wanting to pull the bunched up fabric back down your thighs. but the sudden sensation of murdoc’s fingers rubbing at the dampened crotch of your underwear caught you off guard and you let out a whine.

“that’s it,” murdoc groaned when your thighs instinctively parted wider for him. he traced up your wet folds through the thin fabric, stopping at your clit to circle it. your chest filled with a sharp gasp and you cried out, legs going near slack. “good girl.”

your hips bucked shamelessly into his fingers, desperately trying to match his steady rhythm. “shit, shit,” you gasped, fingers curling around the edge of the table. your head fell back between your shoulders, strained whines falling from your lips.

murdoc quickly stole your building-up orgasm when he took his hand away to slide your panties down your legs and plant himself onto his knees before you. he whisked the garment away but you didn’t entirely care. the sight of him made you blink, realizing what he was about to do.

this was what he meant by wanting something? honestly, you had expected him to bend you over the table or have you straddle him on the chair.

“go on.” he gently nods towards the table behind you. hesitantly, you pull your dress down to cover your ass before hoisting yourself up onto the edge. you wince at the cold that seeped through the thin fabric meant to protect you. the rest of it bunched up at your hips.

murdoc’s hand slipped behind your thigh, holding it in place, the chain lightly digging into your skin as he brought his other one up to rub at your inner thigh. you waited for him to tend to your aching cunt again, but it never came.

you looked down at him, growing irritated. “what do you need me to do?” he asked far too sweetly for your liking. you glowered at him, but he didn’t give in. “don’t forget, you’re the one who needs something.”

bastard. he was going to make you say it out loud. humiliate you for a little bit, even if he was painfully hard in his orange jumpsuit. he had patience like no other, so he would get his way.

you swallowed what was left of your pride and responded, “please, make me come.” your words held bite and lacked the lust that coursed through you. and although murdoc looked like he was going to make you answer correctly for a moment, he shrugged.

“since you asked so nicely.” he said sardonically before he planted his mouth onto your cunt. the response was immediate, a startled cry of his name falling from your lips and your thighs tensing around him.

his tongue delves into your cunt, working you slowly and skillfully. you press a shaky hand to your mouth to try to keep yourself relatively quiet, but it’s like he knows exactly how you touch yourself at home in bed. he’s hitting every spot, and the vibrations of each of his moans make your back arch.

“murdoc—” his name sounded so strange when you weren’t cursing it to hell and back. “—fuck, don’t stop,” your hips rolled against his mouth, the tip of his nose prodding at your clit. you risked it and carded a hand through his hair, taking a handful of dark locks and tugging. he moaned, louder this time, and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on your thigh.

you watched as his eyes fluttered shut, practically losing himself in your pussy. he shifted to sucking on and licking at your clit, reveling in the way your cries got higher and more frequent, and how your body writhed wildly against his face. then he’d move back to devouring you, messily and loudly.

your hold on his hair went icy and you pushed him deeper into your cunt, thighs spreading impossibly wider. murdoc whined at the assertion, peering up at you through hooded eyelids.

the sight was obscene, burning itself into your vision forever. the feeling would, too. you hadn’t received anything like this in years, especially not from your silicone and rubber replacements at home.

it’s then that you notice that he’s breathing too hard — or rather, moving far too much — and that he’s slowed down significantly. and that his hands have left both of your thighs and had gone back to his lap. one still loosely held your calf, you realized, but the other worked at his stiff cock. you couldn’t see it, only the rapid up-and-down of his fist.

it wasn’t because of his jumpsuit, which he had worked open at some point, but because also in his hand was your panties. it should’ve disgusted you. watching murdoc jerk himself off and using your panties to do it.

but instead your breathing went ragged and you moaned. “fuck, fuck, murdoc!” he groaned in response, his tongue delving into your pussy in slow, deep drags. he didn’t care that you’re fucking his face now, or that he can’t breathe. he was chasing his own high, fisting his dick with your panties and listening to your relentless cries.

you cursed and cried out as the coil tightened in your gut, feeling like your body was about to explode if he didn’t stop. you didn’t want him to. so you held his mouth against your cunt, hips jerking sporadically as you finally came on his tongue. you felt murdoc’s lips curve into a smirk against you, but you didn’t have the strength to care.

instead, you let him fuck you with his tongue through your blinding orgasm, gently rolling your hips in time with his languid thrusts. you tilted your head and peered down at him, watching him get himself off with your underwear.

you wished you’d worn a sexier pair, but the stirring in your stomach was still there. just knowing they were yours.

a weak moan slipped from you when the sensitivity started to catch up with you. murdoc kept going, still licking up your first orgasm. “holy shit, murdoc,” you slurred, a second orgasm quickly building.

your head fell back and your fingers ran through murdoc’s hair, tousling it even more. but he persisted now, shifting to messily work at your clit. the noises were obscene, and the shame was beginning to set in, but once you looked down and caught his gaze, it was gone.

his nose poked at your abdomen while he sucked on your sensitive nub, and spit and cum glistened around his mouth. you held the contact for only a moment before you came for a second time on his tongue, and telling from the trembling moan he let out right after, he did too.

he pulled away after a second, both of your heavy panting filled the room. you could barely hold yourself torso up, you couldn’t even imagine standing up yet. so you stayed propped against the edge of the table while murdoc cleaned himself as best as he could.

“you can keep them.” you mumbled before he could even try to give you your panties back. but the man only blinked at you.

“i know.”

the anger from before threatened to return. god, he was such an asshole.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked with a smug smirk as he wiped your cum from his face with the back of his hand. the action made you gulp, and the way he was staring at you, still on the ground, forced you to your feet and to the other side of the table.

you had to put distance between you and him or you’d end up shoving his face right back between your legs again. and you would rather die than have murdoc know that you wanted him to tongue fuck you again.

“right, now, can you give me what i need?” you asked, hurrying to rearrange the shuffled papers on the table.

murdoc got back up into his chair, watching you compose yourself with amusement. “that depends, sweetheart.” he replied. “what do you need? names or another round?”

did this in one sitting ur welcome. god i love david dastmalchian. so much. also i might write a part 2 to this.