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fumifooms · 2 months ago

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Kabru party analysis - Trust, and codependence vs emotional unavailability

I flip flopped on calling this a masterpost a lot, but looking back, yeah. While I do compile every fact I can about the party and its characters a significant part of this is interpretation, extrapolation and speculation enough that it's an analysis more than compilation at this point. Feel free to skim, skip around, whatever makes the experience more enjoyable and useful. I’ll also try and compile parallels they have with their Laios party counterpart, since them being foils and ‘shadow version’ of sorts to our main party is a big part of their fun fact meta, I am however most interested in analyzing them as their own characters- and as a whole together as an entity & narrative device. I did end up getting into narrative and thematic analysis for the main story... Mostly the Kabru & conclusion segments though.

But ultimately the goal of this post is mostly to analyze their relationships with each other because I think that’s the messy interesting part of their group, beyond just being a kabru party facts list.

Table of contents:

Kabru + party timeline

Rin

Holm

Daya

Mickbell

Kuro

Relationships and overall dynamic

Do they matter at all to the story?

For easy finding if anyone wants to do a focused reread, the main chapters featuring the Kabru party are 10, 15, 31 and 32, and then with chapter 45 everyone but Kabru (and Rin) stops appearing until the final battle.

Kabru of Utaya & his party

What to say about Kabru that hasn’t already been said, how to summarize him as perfectly and concisely as possible… I don’t think I can reasonably do him full justice here! This is an analysis about his party and not just him so I don’t want to spend forever here. Unlike every other character in his party Kabru is a main character of Dungeon Meshi so plenty of analyses around, meanwhile information can be hard to find and string together for the rest of them or the party as a whole. This isn’t a deep dive on Kabru but a summary, I’ll go over his timeline, goals and general attitude.

This'll be critical for later, but notice here that this means Kabru's party formed 2 years before the story happens. We get no indication of whether or not party members have changed much or little over those years, even if the party overall seems somewhat incompetent. Kabru's profile says that despite his skills, his lack of experience makes him a mediocre party leader and we do have that inexperience with monsters and dungeons, from what we see in canon. It's partly due to his foster mother training him intensively in combat against humans but seemingly not monsters or dungeon survivals, and partly from what we see with canon's framig because Kabru has no interest in monsters- You know and understand what you love better than what you hate, so Kabru is good at fighting humans and Laios is good at fighting monsters. The party does have rather good chemistry in action, with Kabru orchestrating everyone with commands, but they still end up being defeated as often as not, and despite Mickbell's warnings Kabru pushes to go to a dungeon floor lower than he thinks they can handle with their current ressources, for example. Laios' party at the start of canon were broke, but it's only because their money got lost in the dungeon and (chap 28) the bank would take too long to get their tokens back & take money out to save Falin- meanwhile Mickbell talks about being in the red just because of their current unfruitful dive, meaning they aren't as successful and have tighter finances overall. We see the party hanging out in taverns off-work (though not unlike Laios' very occasionally does as well) and things like Kabru meeting Dia's fiance and the party visiting Kabru's room, so they mayy be paralelling how it's said Laios' party hung out very little outside of work? They don't seem much closer for it, though.

One other thing to note is that Utaya is not necessarily his birthplace/hometown? The details are unclear, the adventurer's Bible does refer to it as his birthplace twice, but it's also mentioned several times that his mother was "chasen out", even in the original japanese. It sounds like leaving a town to me, but it could be that they were only driven out to their house and moved to a different part of town...? Either way, his mother was "chased out of home" after he was born beause of his blue eyes. Of course, Utaya is where the dungeon overflow tragedy happened when he was 6-7 years old, so it's the town Kabru and his mom were living in, one way or another. It's also mentioned kobolds lived near Utaya, explaining him speaking some kobold, which kobolds also implies the region had conflict beyond the dungeon overflow considering what Kabru says about kobolds in the kobold page.

Her mom having been "chased out of home" over him and then working hard as a single mother to support both him and herself is likely to have made him feel like a burden, which may have influenced his selflessness: the way he's hardworking, the way he neglects himself, the way he keeps others at arm's lenght (maybe thinking getting closer to him would do them no good)*, the way he can be very quiet and a great listener, gauging others' needs- the same way he was his mom's venting outlet when very young whenever she got drunk. *I explore this possibility more in this kabrin brainstorm post. The insecurity of being an incubus/monster, especially with how Kabru did see people transforming into monsters in Utaya- A very interesting recurring angle for him.

Let's be clear, as Kabru shows again and again his goal was 1) to pierce the mysteries of the dungeon, and 2) ensure that if anyone defeats the current dungeon lord that they won't accelerate the process of the dungeon overflowing or use the power for evil, essentially that the dungeon's power won't fall into the wrong hands, which includes him thinking the canaries shouldn't get the final say in how to handle it all. His goal/plan of becoming dungeon lord himself was to take care of both of these in one go.

He's been at this for years and he's seen a lot of things firsthand when he was 6, so already when he first confronts the canaries at the Island governor's he explains the stages of degradation of a dungeon quite well, he has his own theories that turn out accurate, but he's made them while being barred from most information on dungeons, which the elven monarchy controls access to. Goal 2 is always the main point, but goal 1 is important in order to be able to do it efficiently. Once this, goal 1, is achieved and Kabru learns about the demon through Mithrun, he becomes solely focused on goal 2 again (whereas the On Floor 1 chapters ended with him breaking alliance wth the canaries to demand answer) to ensure the demon stays under control and to stop the current (and possible next) dungeon lord. And then, well, the meeting at Thistle's house happens. Defeating the dungeon then at the beginning of canon was half-cover, a simple unsuspicious way to present his goals, half-goal 1 which would also take care of goal 2 by Kabru himself becoming the dungeon lord, as said. The canaries show up so he indulges in goal 1 while carefully teetering on being an obstacle to the canaries and helping them, and then it's right back to goal 2 with renewed determination together after he and Mithrun fall down into the dungeon and Mithrun spills everything. He doesn't trust Laios as dungeon lord, but he also doesn't trust the elves having the sole duty of managing dungeons.

It becomes this sort of tug of war of distrust, of who does he trust less to ally against, who does he trust more to ally with, which side to take once it's clear his own side isn't viable alone- he ends up somewhat playing double agent covertly through the story, but ultimately he ends up more or less trusting everyone and playing double agent openly with the final battle, quote unquote having faith in humanity & others, which he'd been cynical about for so long, finding red flags in everyone. But yes yes backing up again, he came to trust Mithrun during the six days in the dungeon together, but not the rest of the canaries and when they meet up again he's still on bad terms with them, we see it at Thistle's house where he tried obfuscating Laios' party's secret and pinned Mithrun to keep him from chasing after them, preferring for the ball to be in their court and for Mithrun not to go kamikaze mode.

His interest in Laios also extended to Falin, their party was quite capable and was more or less next in line to beat the dungeon, but since she died and Laios went into it on a shocking desperate mission, Laios becomes a focus of his as they make very quick progress. No one dungeon diving ever went beyond the big doors guarded by the gargoyles, but Laios' party passes through them just a little after Kabru and Mithrun team up.

All these deeper thoughts were largely unknown to his party members before the story.

He’s secretive and often cold with his party. Even Rin, presumably the closest friend he has, the one who’s devoting herself to specifically following and helping him (while the others also seem to admire him and partly follow him to put him on the dunlord throne, they have their own reasons too), is left in the dark with an arm of distance kept between them. Kabru first reveals he's been keeping an eye on the Touden's party during the sea serpent 2 chapter for example, and goes into it a little more during the Toshiro-Laios parties meetup chapters.

Although, it might be more appropriate to say that rather the party members aren't really listening. Kabru spoke about his goal to keep the toudens away from the dungeon lord title here, has a whole speech about influence and power falling into the wrong hands, and their reaction is "we know, only you is fit to be dungeon lord!" when that's never been the actual core of the matter, the point. It was the red herring being set up yes, that that was only what kabru wanted, but ultimately looking back he's always had that guardian type motivation more than leader, being a judge and executioner more than a king on a throne, he wants to support what's good and dismantle what's bad, so it suits him to have become a politician in the end instead of the ultimate chief. That also goes into his arc- him learning that sharing duties and goals is good, that he doesn't have to do everything alone and fully trusting others when teaming up can be beneficial, that he alone doesn't have to be the sole voice, that his shouldn't be the sole choice to be made about matters or courses of action. So going back to the topic- another instance of his explanations being dismissed is in this convo with Rin above- Again he talks about dungeons and reveals hints about his true goals, yet after all of this Rin literally only goes "hmm" and silence falls, and then she says she's hungry. Wether she was contemplative or uninterested, the change of topic is rather quick and unceremonious. And this is the person who'd know best about his motivations too, knowing his past well.

And maybe this phenomenon is also why he gets peeved at Rin here and silently chides her. In a "she should know how to think this through by now, she should've taken a second to observe and remember how we do things, she should think deeper about the true important matters" way etc etc. What are we doing this for, what do you take me for? This kind of righteousness is detrimental rather than helpful and strategic, Rin.

I place both Laios and Mithrun to be very important to Kabru's character and arc, and with Mithrun a significant part of the puzzle imo must have been that Mithrun listened, easily understood. Mithrun understood the gravity and danger of dungeons, was even similarly a victim of one. Where everyone else shallowly misunderstands or dimisses what he says about dungeons and his goals, they're very understandable and familiar to Mithrun, and such bumps don't happen with him. Mithrun isn't playing the social game the same way as others, he just dishes out whatever blunt straight to the bottom of the matter points, he skips the social dance Kabru often gets so hang up on, in a way that helps kabru communicate with him honestly rather than hinder, especially since Mithrun is still quite good at reading between lines. This could be a good part of why they take to each other rather quickly and team up, each other's rationale and plans feel intuitive to the other and they find someone else traumatized by the dungeon, someone who understands, understands not only what he's talking about but also what must be done, the ruthlessness needed. And Laios comes to ultimately balance this out, not invalidating their wants and needs but showing there are other ways to proceed, other people to trust, even when they don't intuitively understand them.

And on that note I want to talk about Kabru and laios' confrontation. I've already said that his "Laios obsession" is about his dungeon goals and that's very straightforward, and it only got to this point because Laios previously dodged his every attempt at closeup info gathering and still now he can't get a read or grip on him. BUT while some think Kabru's "I just wanted to be friends with you" is just a bullshit he made up on the spot complete lie, I don't think so. We see Kabru cycle through some explanations, angles and speeches he has like scripts, like one of them on the second page is close to this. And we know they're like scripts because that's what he said and how he spoke with his party, the backstory talk, the framing, it's all how he presented it to others as well. But he knows none will work on laios, Laios pushes him like Mithrun to go offscript, to find new approaches and communicate in ways that are more vulnerable and uncomfortable. And Kabru has trouble finding that angle that'll work with Laios, because he doesn't know Laios well enough, and that's what he wants, too, it feels so frustrating and vulnerable not understanding him. As his desperation mounts it sort of just slips out- I wanted to be friends with you. Childish, simple, inappropriate for the grave context and very embarrassing. And he immediately freezes and backpedals- BUT Laios endlessly dunks on the very idea that it could be true and that sets kabru off- after which he unloads a more personal perspective of how it was like chasing after him. And I think that's what it is, it's not a lie but it's a bit of an oversimplification- Not the full reason, but a part of it. Kabru wanted them to get to know each other better and get along, for him not to have to kill Laios, a want he still clings onto even when stakes are rising. He says it all himself here, explains his statement after Laios all but laughs in his face in disbelief. I think this scene and the slip-up shows that Kabru does have a desire for connection, that even when he's all calculating and manipulative with his business mode on, there's that desire under it all. And with Laios, well, what better excuse is there to be interested in someone that so conveniently is at the center of his plans and goals for the dungeon? Meeting practicality and genuine interest makes for this- I don't think that's unique to Laios perse, I do think Kabru is interested in people in general like he himself puts it in contrast with the touden siblings who don't, but with Laios the difference is the utter onesidedness of it, the brick wall of social cues he doesn't know how to approach but both needs and wants to. Repressing a desire for social connections, being bound by it despite wanting to not need them, is a common theme in Dungeon Meshi! And I think this fits into that. It's in the grabbing of Laios' arm too. Yes it's from despair, from the situation and from not being heard out, but that despair hides a desire, and it's a desire both to fix everything and to be seen and heard finally. And you could theorize it's his time with Mithrun that made him help realize here that yes there's some truth to wanting to be friends with Laios, and learn to seize the opportunity, to chase it not just through mind games but also try honesty, bluntness...

His arc with Laios (and with Mithrun) is a lot about teaming up imo, his party disappears and accomplished little because he never fully opened up to them, but when push came to shove and he was thrown into teaming up with someone (Mithrun) unfamiliar with no pretenses possible in an urgent situation he slowly gained trust for him, he learns that trust can be valuable even through the risk, enough that by the time he has to make his ultimate choice of going against Laios and even killing, vs helping him and letting him do his own plan, conflicted as he is Kabru still chooses to defend Laios from Lycion and have some faith- and this despite having his own opinion dismissed by Laios in the scene we just looked at. He is putting faith in Laios to have the weight of that world he was carrying alone for years put into someone else's hands, upon their choices, despite it meaning everything to him. Dungeon Meshi is a loooot about community and unity, about reaching each other halfway to have understanding and accomplish things together, better, and Kabru's arc very much is about that whole thing. Laios decides to go with his own gut instead of agreeing with Kabru's pleading, and there's much to say about that, but ultimately I see it as Kabru being forced to reckon with having to put full trust in another person's judgement yes, terrifying and risky, but sometimes it'll pay off. Seeking to understand each other earnestly IS good, and it's only after all pretenses are out the window that things start to look up, compromise shows willingness to do that.

So like. Mithrun's half of kabru's storyline is about being understood, getting some of that social connecting need he's been neglecting and showing how genuineness pays off, meanwhile Laios' half is about understanding others, seeing the flaws in how he approaches others. How do you expect people to understand you if you aren't earnest with them, Laios asks? Lycion hammers it home too, being the one to expose Kabru having been fake with Laios and trying being very blunt and direct with Laios. With Mithrun he learns to socialize without playing 4d mind chess again, it's easy with him befause he's so uninterested in respecting social conventions anymore and is so blunt and honest, and with Laios he learns to apply that. Mithrun is his parallel and Laios is his contrast.

Okay this was the story arc bit now getting back to a character analysis focus. Kabru is interested in anthropology in general, with a genuine interest in learning about people and languages & helping people at large. He's concerned with the greater good and "preventing Utaya from happening again", not because he himself doesn't feel safe but because he wants to prevent tragedies in the world, tragedies that affect others the way he's been before. Kabru is individualistic in the sense that he takes everything upon himself, doesn't readily trust others with decisions, but he's also incredibly selfless. He's dedicating his life to investigating dungeons and stopping their meltdowns, thinking someone else than the elves must get involved, he has personal reasons to be motivated to stop the demon but unlike Mithrun it's not out of revenge but out of a concern for others' wellbeing, while Mithrun's motivations are stuck in the past Kabru's are in the future's. In his determined pursuit of his goals he neglects his own needs and wellbeing- Due to his upbringing with the sheltering Milsiril, Kabru has a hard time even doing basic care tasks like cleaning and cooking, if it wasn't for his landlord doing the cleaning of his rented room for him it'd be very messy, bottles laying around because he drinks alcohol to help with insomnia regularly for one. Dungeon diving isn't all that profitable, especially being Kabru's party, and it's unsafe, and it's uncomfortable, and not exactly well seen- He's not enriching himself either in wealth or status, and yet Kabru his spending his every day and every ressource researching about dungeon diving parties on the Island to keep an eye out for possible future dungeon lords, making influential connections like the shadow governor, and of course dungeon diving itself. He even puts it himself, that he'd rather die in a dungeon in pain than stay at Milsiril's, and it's very important to remember that unlike Laios Kabru hates dungeons- He loathes monsters, is terrified of them and the threat the dungeons make, and doesn't even seem to have true curiosity or interest for dungeons' workings beyond how to stop them from causing harm- his dedication to dungeon diving is solely in relation to his mission. While I'm sure he does find some interactions fulfilling here and there, he also keeps himself from connecting with others, treating relationships either as tools (like drinking is to him) or situations to people please and focus on helping fix their issues like with Dia's fiance, sinking a lot of time into it and not opening up himself, gaining nothing from it except maybe some loyalty and reputation, a sense of satisfaction and a sense of having done a good thing.

The end very much justifies the means with him. He's one of the more politically conscious and few greater good caring people of the cast but he's not without bias, his talking about kobolds for one... more on that in the kabru & Kuro section. He's not blinded by ideas of good and evil since he has no problems with greyer areas if the ultimate result is good- but he can be blinded by laser focus somewhat. His fear over Laios- while clearly not unfounded since kui herself stated that at the beginning of serialization she really thought Laios would become a demon king as dungeon lord in the end- makes him take rash decisions, where if it wasn't for people reviving and saving his party again and again and again, Kabru would never have even met Laios. See, again the theme that he can't achieve his goals alone even if he tries. He doesn't want to share burdens and plans, refuses help sometimes, but he does rely on it like everyone else, and ultimately I think that's what his arc is about like we covered- from being so distant with his party to opening up with mithrun and ultimately, in his kill Laios vs trust Laios dilemma he picked trust.

I do think growing up with Milsiril shaped him into who he became a lot, not only because he had access to knowledge with her ressources and her teaching yes, but most importantly imo he learned to manage an emotionally needy adult. It's mentioned his dead mother would sometimes vent to him when drunk, and it's different but similar to Milsiril being a sensitive recluse hermit who jumps from tears to anger in the blink of an eye, with emotional manipulation whether intentional or not, guilt tripping for even small things like which home cuisine he picks to talk about. Kabru grew used to having to anticipate and pacify or counter Milsiril's moods, to push through the wails and downright threats to be able to make a point and be heard like when saying he wishes to go into dungeons, and she seems to overburden her kids with the task of managing her emotional stability like I implied. She doesn't have friends except literally maybe just Helki her employee, she likes dolls and interacting with her kids and that's all that we see, so she seems emotionally dependent on her kids and esp Kabru imo. So like with how he operates in the present, he learned to "manipulate for good", what words tend to set people off, what ways to phrase things make pills easier to swallow, what face is most pleasing and soothing, what gestures are too much and what gestures are too little. Daily life and ineracting at home with his foster family became a visual novel with right and wrong answers and for smooth days he needs to be a good kid. Milsiril & Kabru is a topic for another day but I do have a lot to say. I do want it to be kept in mind here that Kabru's opinion that it's impossible for elves to see eye to eye with shortlived races is explicitly linked to his experience with Milsiril, as written in his Adventurer's bible pages. This coming up is definitelyyy a headcanon though but since [Helki is the only friend adjacent relationship we know milsiril has] and their relationship is master & servant there's grounds to theorize about how much kabru interacted with him too- how much Kabru saw Milsiril and Helki interact, his only father adjacent figure you could even say... As @room-surprise puts it, growing up in that house watching Milsiril and Helki and himself he learned that life is not to eat or be eaten but instead "to use or be used". Having grown elsewhere than the rigid elven kingdom first, that place with its tons of social etiquette rules and hierarchy, helped him be more critical of that society even as he observed how it worked and how he could work it, his original home may have not been much more welcoming, but sometimes difference is all that's needed to start comparing and realizing how systems are built, and not innate or unchangeable. I think being thrown into it rather than born into it shaped how Kabru perceived it. Psychology also helped him deal with his own trauma imo- in the incubus & parasitic bee comic it seems rationalizing the people from his hometown's superstitions helps him make his peace about it, makes it feel less personal, more distant- it's not my great aunt thinking I ruined my mom's life by being born, it's the human instinct and phenomenon of people being scared of what they don't understand, like a child with pale blue eyes. People being scared by what they don't understand, hm, it really always goes back to this in Dungeon Meshi doesn't it.

I think it's needless to say at this point but it's obvious Kabru is a character very affected by trauma. Faced with monsters, which've ravaged his home in the blink of an eye, he shakes and hesitates. He gets flashbacks when thinking about eating monsters. Wild topic swing but believe it or not there's a recurring "is it ptsd or autism" debate that often happens with characters, including L from Death Note for example, and Kabru has had this phenomenon in a niche of the fandom too. As one myself I do heavily relate to Kabru in the lens of him being an overachiever masked autistic, who unconsciously was drawn to learning psychology out of a need to do so and used to approach social interactions as a more scripted and logical affair than intuitive, and that was in part due to trauma yes- but autism and social-based trauma that pushed you to overcompensate and overachieve is, well... There's a causal link there yes, and it's a tendency that does happen with autism, especially in its afab presentation. And Kabru having ptsd is pretty much undeniable, so then, both? Personally I would claim kabru suffered not only the trauma of Utaya being destroyed but also social trauma living through being feared and hated by villagers and then taken in by elves and being constantly talked over- again different but similar to Rin's own experience and trauma. Truth is Kabru not being autistic doesn't change all that much from the "Laios caught his eye because he doesn't mask well and Kabru has to teach him about it he has to tell him that's illegal and look out for him" magnetism theory because that's also what ptsd does, someone with ptsd depending on the trauma also can become very scripted and nervous about skirting from it. Autism just gives it a more personal lens, where it's not only trauma but just who you are, always feeling a bit apart from everyone else in a fundamental way. In the end what autism and ptsd share in situations like this is that they treat social situations like a survival game, no fun included. This isn't the kabru is autistic analysis that's another topic plus many exist already I bet, but yes just know that these are common and coherent readings that can give a good lens for his behavior or obsessive tendencies.

Last tangent last tangent- but words are Kabru's main weapon right, knowledge is Kabru's main warfare method. Being in a society and with a parental guardian who doesn't put weight into your opinions and wants, speaking and being listened to is hard, and Kabru learned to play the game and dance the dance until he could make connections anywhere. It's of course relevant with how he dealt with Misilril and just how he continues to approach problems and matters now too, it's a way to be, a defense mechanism too, again like Rin's. It's interesting to note that it's Milsiril who taught him a lot, which he mentions is what he's grateful for her for most, teaching him and training him- and isn't that very in line with how Milsiril also felt spoken over and rejected by elven society as well, how she despises elven society even. Almost as if knowledge is a tool when you're devalued and pushed down in a society- Something that was important for Milsiril to teavh to him, which also fits nicely in with Kabru teaching Kuro the common tongue later on too. Milsiril's approach to the game of hierarchy was to keep her head down and obey orders until she could retire living rich as a hermit and foster parent, though, and that's emblematic of where they differ too- Kabru wants to be proactive, do more prevention with dungeons to have less damage control to do, even if you have to throw yourself into danger, even if you have to seek it out, so he makes connections and builds influence and goes dungeon diving. Milsiril wants to go away from trouble, leave to be safer, avoid danger, in life like in work, so she decides to live away from wider society to deal with her trauma and social anxiety, and so she retires and doesn't understand why Kabru would ever want to go near a dungeon again. Words are Kabru's main weapon but ultimately he drops arms and shed this attitude for open communication instead... 😌

I've started doing more analyses with enneagrams, I'll link back here when I make my first enneagram character analysis feature with Laios but in the meantime, sorry if you know nothing about it... If I had to call one for Kabru right now, 5w6/6w5 and 163 for tritype? Which would somewhat complement my reading of Laios as a 4w5 478, being his contrary in the action center 1 vs 8 which is the center that dictates how you judge/approach others/interactions, and the order being that the socialization center is the facet that's most important to Kabru vs what's least important to Laios. Inversely what's most important to Laios and least important to Kabru is the heart center aka how you judge yourself, your relationship with your own self-importance, Laios is very concerned with his own identity and interests and flees oppressive places that make him need to conform too much meanwhile Kabru is to himself only a tool for his greater goal and is ready to sacrifice individuality and his own comfort for it. But hey why would Kabru be 6w5 but still have 1 has his most important type in his 163 tritype? Well 6 is the desire for stability, security, and 1 is the high strict standard & concern for what's right vs wrong. I would consider 6 as his more important type because it's that desire that shaped his 1 importance given to morality, justice, good on a wider scale, etc, especially as someone marginalized where moral policies naturally benefit more people, often especially those devalued ykwim? Bettering the country with policies is right and also benefits him, he thinks everyone should have stability and safety, that it's the most important thing for everyone, but it presents as a 1 way to deal with that issue.

I think an important recurrent theme you can notice here too is onesided and unbalanced relationships. Kabru had the role of significant emotional support to both parental figures he had in his life, when as a child you're the one supposed to emotionally unload and the parents are supposed to take on them and manage the both of you, and it's made him be stuck into that mode sort of by default, letting others open themselves to you as much as they want but not opening up in turn, being more detached and unemotional- and of course, that's what's needed when you need to fix things, when you have to make sure everything is taken care of. It's the approach he takes both for his life and for relationships, so he shuts out his own emotions and pushes himself for others and for the world. He likes knowing, but not being known, because that's not supposed to be his role or purpose. He knows how burdening that can be. It does make the reversal of Laios being interested in Laios actively and Laios being uninterested in Kabru himself interesting. I don't know Kabru knows himself all that well, it's always about others so he doesn't take nearly as much time pondering his own wants, I think that plays into the "I wanted to be friends" too. It's how he's so able to get Dia's fiance to emotionally unload on him and vent over a couple hours and so at ease with it- he's used to it. Ah and even with Rin! He was specifically asked to befriend Rin as a kid, a very heavily traumatized girl- he was asked this because he's a shortlived race kid like her and nice, was asked this by his foster mother for the canaries' sake- he was literally put into that emotional support situation there too.

I am not mentioning every parallel & contrast he has with Laios I don't wanna be here all day!! But hey where Kabru had his town ravaged by monsters as a child and has always holds importance for having community, Laios fantasized about monsters tavaged his town because he hated his community, for one. In this precise scenario, Laios saw flaws and he immediately wanted to give up on that community, meanwhile Kabru saw flaws and wanted to fix them- Well, mostly, since Kabru did give up on relations with elves for a good while, and both end up amending those beliefs and seeking to make a better society within the golden kingdom together.

Here is my very quickest Kabru analysis apparently 😭😭 I NEED to get dragged offstage this can't go on- Idk man I still haven't gotten THE ANGLE with Kabru's narrative in the story I still can't see one thread that makes everything seamlessly connect together like it usually happens with Dunmeshi for me, but there's so much going on here about typical dunmeshi themes like authenticity, balancing considering others & your own needs and connecting...... But my biggest impression after my first read that still lingers now is that Kabru was in good part there to embody that people are a tapestry and that we're like an ecosystem, you can't carry the weight of the world alone because you are not alone and humans are creatures that accomplish feats through being social, like how Kabru couldn't have defeated the monster without Laios' help, Laios couldn't have gotten this far without Kabru's interference. Again it's all comes to that final battle where everyone, different as they may be, come together to fight on the same side, to save their collective world... And the guy everyone believed in least being the one on who all hope and faith and trust is placed in the last desperate shot at winning. Idk man!!! What are we doing here go touch grass breathe in the breeze hug your loved ones what a joy it is to be alive and human!! Take example on Kabru and love yourself. Because you're human and he loves humans I mean- don't actually take notes on self-love from Kabru that would not go well I feel. But yeah like to me Kabru's party gives me a nudge of what direction I should go in to figure out what his portion of the story is getting at, the importance of Kabru's party then becomes showing the state of his relationships at the start of the story before things get shaken up, as contrast and a reference point...

Rinsha Fana

OKAYYY here we are. Not everything is about you Kabru! <- said with Rin's voice (it really truly actually is lol)

I've already done an incomplete analysis of her here, please look at it for Rin pictures & material, but basically her sour and strict attitude seems to be a defense mechanism she can't fully control, like how she tends to frown when she wants to smile. Kabru's words about it are somewhat dubious to be sure, we don't have a guidebook on "when is Rin truly angry and when is she just smiling upside down :) ", but it is notable that Kabru does have a point with that, from what we see.

Her nagging attitude is part of that defense mechanism- As explicitly stated several times, her main purpose in following Kabru is that she's worried he'd get himself into trouble without her. Not unjustified, since he has trouble even cleaning and eating well, and then he gets all wrapped up with the canaries during canon, but yes according to Rin he's too smart and reckless for his own good. This may be why he sees her as a big sister figure, she nitpicks every little thing but at the end of the day her support is unconditional and she'll stand with you whenever you need her. Sort of like a big sister, she gives tough love but ultimately just wants you to be healthy and to take your pain away.

She had a very difficult upbringing, seen as a heretic to burn at the stake in her early childhood then treated like an animal when growing up with the elves. Her parents had an unaligned religion and its practices are tied to how she learned magic, which is why her family was reported to the canaries as dark magic users, but not in time for them to arrive before the townspeople killed her parents. Where with the elves Kabru learned to people please in order to gain more agency and safety when he grew up seen as a pet, Rin learned to be irreproachable and stand her ground when she grew up treated as an animal. The townspeople in Kabru's hometown sought to break up his home and chase out his family, and they may have threatened heavily for all that we know, but Kabru was able to keep his love for humans and belief that humanity is good, the trauma he has is of monsters killing people during the dungeon overflow- Rin's trauma is townspeople burning her house down and lynching her family until she was the only survivor. She sees others as a threat, and not without reason.

Both Rin and Kabru wear masks socially. They go in opposite ways though, Rin oversells her toughness to tell people not to mess with her, she makes herself closed off and intimidating, meanwhile Kabru is more of a chameleon but mainly, he makes himself seem open and appeasing, unthreatening to be trusted and liked more.

She was sent into shock and suffered through severe trauma especially since the people who collected her amidst all this, the canaries, are very ill equipped to deal with emotionally/mentally fragile people, especially shortlived race kids. Because of this whole situation she has some contempt for those who had it "easier", like mages who went to magic school instead of having to self-teach like Rin did. And some of this is disdain that where she had to study everything on her own others have teachers to guide them through it all, a sense of superiority, but imo it's also doubtlessly a defense mechanism, an anti magic-elitism where she sneers at them before they can sneer at her. Before they can call her uncultured, she calls them talentless. Counter before they can even strike. Defense mechanism. In the main story, we hear of this tension Rin has about academy mages with how she speaks of Marcille and her spells- specifically she's rude about Marcille's protection charm/ward and says something about how the one who did it was definitely an academy mage because the spell is too by the book in chapter 32- and this is what I mean, she takes issue with how strict about rules and spells they are, how much they conform, because her own background is being severely mistreated and sotracized for being an unaligned unconventional mage, for doing magic outside of these rules and books. Interestingly, we also see in chapter 10 though that she looks down on people she sees as not successful or capable, saying that they'll definitely defeat the mad mage and "we won't be hand-to-mouth adventurers like you people", perhaps from trauma too- wishing to put a distance between the group she'd normally be categorized with and who she wants to become, or having felt mocked by the guy who talked to them before by having been related to them, because she's so on guard and bad faith always. We don't really know the details of Rin's time with the elves, escept that she was "minded like an animal". We don't even know where she stayed, even, just that Milsiril couldn't take her in because her house was already full. Where did she stay, then? Some shitty orphanage? I like to think she stayed with the canaries as "an impounded article" until she became an adult and left with Kabru, explaining even more her attitude since she'd have all the military influence, and further proving the point that any success she earns was self-made, that anything she knows she had to teach berself because her environment never gave her opportunities. But yes wherever it was, we can only assume that it was close enough to Milsiril's mansion or easily accessible, because Kabru and Rin continues seeing each other. It seems like at first, they would have made trips just in order to have Kabru befriend Rin until she could talk. They may have continued through letters eventully too if they couldn't meet. Hust a lot of uncertainty on every ground, all we know is Rin and Kabru became important to each other.

We actually know little of Rin and Kabru's pre-canon relationship, but we know that Rin was taken in by the elves some time after Kabru was, after her parents were killed by townsfolk and report them as black mages to the canaries, who arrived too late to be able to tell, so just took Rin in and...... Well we know very little of how she was treated, too, even where she was kept, just that Milsiril couldn't take her in and that they "minded her like an animal". We know that Kabru wanted and wants to "get her away from the elves somehow", something he doesn't say about the other kids living with Milsiril and explains his reason as being because Rin has bad experience with the elves, but it's unsure how Kabru left home and how Rin came to go with him. Because of that quote of his though it's likely he invited her along when he left, and she followed. But it's not confirmed, for all we know Kabru could have only invited her after 2 years after leaving when he founded his party. It's obvious Rin holds no love for living with the elves anyways, but we don't know how much freedom she had- it was hard for Kabru to be allowed to leave because he was coddled, notably only leaving 2 years after he reached in-world adulthood despite having first voiced his want to leave when he was a kid, but meanwhile I like to think Rin left very easily because no one cared, she was something that took up space and food where she wasn't wanted or needed, an obsolete "impounded article". She was catatonic when she was first taken in, but it's likely things were cleared up once she was able to talk that no, her family wasn't practicing black magic, and then the canaries just didn't know where to send her because she had no home or family anymore. But then, if she could leave whenever she wanted why wouldn't she have left earlier? Probably precisely because of Kabru too, because she didn't want to leave him. She loves him, and they're more or less the only friend each other had, so she couldn't just leave him behind and try to build a life without him, similarly to how he couldn't do that either. She stayed for Kabru and she left for Kabru.

I made another little post speculating more about her life with the elves and the possible impact of Flamela here if you're interested, as well as elaborating on her abandonment issues and the importance of Kabru to her.

Rin does seem to believe in Kabru's cause, in making him dugeon lord and that being important, but her main motivation is still pretty clearly that she's doing this for Kabru because it's Kabru. She doesn’t seem to really know why or what, just that it should be ‘someone who deserves it’ that beats the dungeon and becomes dungeon lord, and her first lines show her determined to prove everyone they can beat the dungeon. Like stated, her main motivation is she wants to make sure Kabru's safe and out of trouble, so hey why not put the "heretic" magic she learned to use and become his offense mage, why not use it to manage a feat so big and desired (defeating the dungeon) that everyone will have to admit she and her art are worthy of respect, to prove to everyone she can make it with her own skills and own unconventional knowledge. Her magic, the last remnant of her family. Her house burned down with everything she possessed, and she's said to have little attachment to her culture due to having been an immigrant on top of everything else, so the memories and knowledge they've taught her, the lessons they instilled in her and the person they tried to shape her to be, that's all that's left of them. She never speaks of them, at all, likely due to the whole heay childhood trauma thing, so we don't really know her feelings on well, everything, beyond that it was traumatic. We don't know what her relationship with her parents was like. She's a very closed off person. That's another contrast we can point out with Kabru, Rin flees her pre-canaries past and never brings up her family, has little attachment to places she's lived in or her culture, but Kabru is fixated on remembering, brings up his mother and culture whenever he can like in the halloween local sweets extra, has made the tragedy of Utaya at the center of his entire life mission. Rin and Kabru really are contrasts of each other in how they deal with trauma I think, whereas they both become very guarded in very different ways I think this highlights how simlar he may have felt with Mithrun, the both of them having become obsessed with their trauma and eradicating the cause of it which happened to be the same thing, having become workaholics and consumed over it.

She's in love with Kabru, but the way I see it it doesn't seem like she's particularly pursuing him romantically. I do think Kabru's occasional flirting with her gives her needless hope, but I don't think getting with him is either her goal in following him or her plan, I think she's content just following him to taking care of him selflessly, even when she knows he can be a womanizer and dishonest asshat, albeit she'll complain every step of the way yes. Again, unintentional big sister attitude.

Post-canon, she keeps in touch with Kabru and becomes a pharmacist, presumably living in Merini but there's no mention of the location, we just know she's kept touch because of a post-canon extra with Laios and Kabru. Her new profession supports that 1) Rin likes caring after others and 2) Rin never had an interest for anything about dungeon diving in itself. It's also ironic, since she was a offensive mage and didn't do healing.

Contrasts with Marcille, where to start... Marcille is optimist and rather open and Rin is pessimist and fully closed off, Marcille is social and smiles a lot and Rin is the reverse. Both of them have a caring mom friend attitude, but Marcille is more gentle and coddling about it whereas with Rin it's pure tough love, both of them do this to a often stifling degree (Falin, Izutsumi, Kabru). There's the contrast in their appearances too, and how Marcille dresses practically but Rin is more flashy, with an... Ambitious skirt cut? They're both elegant but in different ways, they're both very bold in fights, and stubborn and loud in their beliefs. Marcille was a more or less sheltered girl who learned magic in an academy while Rin learned on her own at the cost of blood and sweat. Both of them seem to have grown up in towns rather than cities, a more rural setting, since there were large fields and chickens roaming where Marcille lived and the little we see and know of Rin's town makes it seem closed on itself. They were presumably lonely growing up, Marcille had no peers because of her irregular aging and spent her time absorbed in novels, where Rin because of her family and culture/race was mistreated and avoided and it seems she spent a lot of her time focusing on learning things instead, perhaps paralleling novels with textbooks even in young age. Marcille lost one parent of natural causes and was traumatized by it to the point it became at the center of her life mission, and Rin lost both parents to murder and was traumatized by it to the point she avoids thinking and talking about it ever again. Both of them seek to learn, use and even create unconventional magic eyond the rules set by people. Both of them have cat energy, thank you for coming to my ted talk

Holm

Holm is actually rather mysterious. The biggest thing to notice here is that Holm has been to elven jail before, because his research was too close to dark magic. We have no idea of what his research was about at all, we have no details and little clear hints. He's a man of theorics though, it shows in how he talks about magic and spirits, and with his christmas gift exchange gift it shows how nurturing living things with magic really is something he enjoys and has interest in. It's not a lot to go off of, especially since we know canaries are trigger happy when it comes to dark magic, both arresting people who had minor brushes with it or that seem suspicious without any confirmed crime, and with elves exaggerating people's crimes so they become a canary for manpower. Who knows, maybe he is dungeon diving to try and subtly do research at the same time, but the way we get no hints of that and he just keeps working as a spirit user post-canon makes me think it's just work to him. He never mentions researching or seems to be studying something in the dungeon so it doesn’t sound like that was significant part of his reason for dungeon diving. So he had his run-in with authorities and decided to live more simply from thereon. But that could also just be because of the nature of dark/ancient magic and how it more or less poofed from the world after the demon left, too. With the truth revealed and ancient magic unavailable to channel anymore, research becomes less needed and viable. I doubt Kabru knows about his past. Again, much like Laios' party pre-canon, what got them together is work before anything else, with the added bonus of Kabru spinning an important narrative about conquering the dungeon to become dungeon lord.

His chill laidback, more passive and calm attitude makes him feel more vague and mysterious too, hard to get a good grip on, but he’s also the most mature and put together of the group. Very mellow. He's not quiet to the point of seeming asocial like Dia somewhat does, he just seems... Average, in the extra about his sister for example. And good at keeping secrets. His skeleton in the closest is the jail thing and that's that, seems like it put an end to his researching career and he’s now settled for being a spirits magic user as a job which brought him to dungeon dive. Nope sir prison isn't worth it I'm keeping myself into trouble from now on. What job can I do now though, my specialization is spirits arts... Dungeon diver, okay sure. It could be theorized that his usual attitude + his secret are a persona of sorts, where he keeps himself largely hidden and keeps people at an arm's distance. It's pointed out he freezes in the face of conflict- it shows he dislikes fighting, even being worried for the spirits he makes fight, and that makes me think even more that dungeon diving wouldn't have been his first choice. It could also be a good part of why he's so laidback and quiet then, passive. He dislikes conflict, so he avoids being in the spotlight also helpful skill to have when you've had run-ins with the law, and he has such the nice guy reputation that Mickbell doesn't think twice about crashing at his place in the middle of the night- and sure enough Holm lets him in and practically serves him. You could think him a doormat, but we see with the comic of him & his sister that he's very capable of being mad and agitated and go more on the offensive in a social situation, but yes he has that helpless -panics and wails while all his coworkers does things around him against his will- energy that's pretty sopping wet cat. He seems chill and cool but oh no he was actually the stressed overworked protagonist of a sitcom movie. My condolences for your life Holm. In general he's also a decently judgemental person, and although casually and often with a smile he has no problem "telling it like it is", calling out Mickbell's treatment of Kuro and talking about how Kabru can't clean for shit, how he'd "be willing to do anything to achieve his goals" and is too people pleasing, etc. He's confident in himself, and pretty set in his beliefs though we see him debate and compromise with Kabru.

His sister is the only personal relationship we see him have, but it's stated. She must live on the island too, considering Kabru visits her. The Island isn't exactly a place you're typically born in, so it's interesting to wonder what it means that both Holm and his sister would have moved there. Did their parents disown him after he got arrested over his research? There's nothing to say they did, but nothing that hints they didn't either, honestly, so Holm is a bit of a blank slate backstory wise as well. We know his religion's very important to him too though, and it affects his diet. His spirits are very dear to him and it's mentioned for example that he's raised his undine since basically the spirit equivalent of a baby, so it's implied he's been raising spirits for a long time. If his social life doesn't seem to be thriving, his spirits are definitely filling some of his social & connection needs as pets would. He does both healing and offense.

His contrast with the Laios party would be Falin since they're both healers lowkey doormats who notice the flaws in the people around them but don't act on them and prefer being passive and take upon themselves. They both love nature and were pushed by capitalism and rigid structures that prioritize conformity into work they aren't passionate about. The most important thing in Holm's life seems to be his spirits, and the most important thing in Falin's life are her loved ones, I'd say his enneagram is 592 while Falin's hmm, 926.

I ramble more about Holm in this kabuholm post and compile more of his moments, but it's more speculation than analysis, it's a take on him essentially. My personal verdict is- king of staying in his lane. He's here for work and he keeps his thoughts to himself to speak when it's necessary, he's not afraid of letting people have it outside of that though. The separation of professional and personal life is not going to great with his coworker occasionally imposing on his home lol. Reflecting his maturity, he lets others handle themselves and only steps in when he's needed. Hm, sounds like someone else doesn't it?

Daya

First things first: Daya or Dia? You'll probably have noticed I use Dia, and the reason is pretty simple: Daya/Dia is a nickname. Her official name is Diamond, but the shortening is always used instead- Diamond we have an official spelling for, the nickname we do not. Since it's in katakana (da-ya) and a fantasy world, translations call her Daya, but that's the same pronounciation as the "dia" in "diamond", and isn't it logical for her nickname to just be a shorter version of her actual name? We do know that Kui translates names to katakana being mindful of their pronounciation and not just spelling, like how Tims in Chilchuck tims is written as timzu. Yenpress the official english translator has messed up character names before and this even after official spellings came out, like Mikbell and Sissel, but notablyxthe anime english translation has also gone with Daya. But so, yes, I call her Dia, but of course there's no right or wrong here and by going against official translations I'm making things harder than they need to be. It's just...... Hard to unsee.......

Daya is very underrated for having such an interesting background! She was esentially raised in a cult? The "dungeon keepers". That protects dungeons, in that they keep people from going into it. She never knew why it was an important thing to do, and never questioned it, but as readers at the end of canon we now can imagine that they kept people from going into dungeons so that there would not be new dungeon lords and dungeons would not overflow. Ultimately, Dia fled her home and community because she refused the notion of marrying an older relative to have a child. There's a mistranslation from Yenpress that Namari is from the same tribe as Namari, when the original japanese sentence is just about how they're both from the same race- both dwarves.

No wonder with this background that she "has a slightly otherworldly air". She's very stonefaced and hard to read, but with the focus on duty and discipline she had growing up it's easy to see how she'd have become a somewhat emotionally constipated person in this way. She fell in love with someone of her choosing and is intent on marrying him, contrasting with the man she was ordered to marry back home. It's with a renewed interest in understanding what the life she'd spent so long upholding was about that she went back to work with dungeons as a dungeon diver, in her own words with the goal of understanding what they were protecting. In this way, it seems the marriage order was truly the thing that made everything snap and finally caused her to shake up her life, to look back and start questioning everything- and now she's free, she chooses what to do with herself and who to be with. It's said she loves her husband, and her husband seems very attached to her as well. Somewhat paralleling Chilchuck and his wife, we can imagine how nervewracking it must be to be the spouse of a dungeon diver, who faces death for a living. Dia is very independent and disaffected on top of it, so we see that her fiance feels insecure and even doubts she may cheat on him with Kabru. This insecurity is born from feeling like Dia doesn't need him- and so may leave him in the future. He feels neglected, and Dia probably doesn't show him love and how much he's valued in a way that he sees or satisfies him. That said, her fiance after a couple of cups and an hour with Kabru is shiwn to be very open and emotional, which would presumably complement her well. Dia seems unemotional but she does have her bouts of strong emoting, whether it be distrust, worry, frustration or even wonder- That said, she's not the greatest conversationalist around and I can definitely see her not really understanding how love, care affection and attention, is supposed to look like- Again, she grew up in an extreme social environment.

She's bold and fierce, confident, and notably very very strong. With training from a young age not only in discipline but in fighting she's a warrior born and raised. These are considered tomboyish traits, but I do like how Kabru and the adventurer's bible calls her a lady- she shows wonder at the treasure insects too! She's not disinterested in oretty things, or anything of the sort. We just have little window into her interests, since her life centers around work so much. She also calls out Mickbell for his mistreatment of Kuro, but also does nothing about it. She's quiet and is most often seen closing up the tail end of the psrty looking around for threats while they're on the move. She's quieter than Holm and also more standoffish. The queen of staying in her lane, if you ask me. We'll be talking more about it in the relationships section but you can already see this very interesting party dynamic forming of Rin and Mickbell having their nose all up in others' business while Dia and Holm are very permissive and quiet even while kabrin and mickuro look insane from an outside perspective. Who knows what normal looks like to Dia, though. She disliked Namari because her father made things rocky for dwarves on the Island for a while, so that can show how critical she can be and how her value of not sticking her neck out and staying put & not rocking the boat manifest/the why of it. Like in her home community we can imagine, you have a role in society and being overly disruptive can ruin things for everyone including yourself- even if the one who did the mistake was your parent the fault befalls on your whole family. Very strict hierarchy based outlook on society and community I think... It's interesting that despite of having been a victim of such behaviors herself, part of those faulty lessons stuck with her and she upholds much of the same fallacies.

All of this is very interesting foundation for a character, but yes not much else is developed on Dia and that's wher her story starts and ends- I'll make a diaholm post eventually that delves into her themes of freedom and emotional wallbricking but that's about it from me. I like to think that she likes her husband, but rushed into marriage- that going from a life where everything was structured and decided for her by others to having nothing but choice, from the prospect of marrying an old relative to anyone she chooses, she sort of picked the first guy she liked and made a move on her. Pure speculation, because I like exploring the side effects her upbringing would have had and this sort of detached attitude she has, with some typa off attachment style...

Fun facts: if the modern au christmas gift exchange extra is to be believed, Dia enjoys reading and has some books of her own. In a Daydream Hour she's drawn with Holm out of their work uniforms but she still has a sword at her hip, which may mean she carries a weapon with her even just around town. She has two younger siblings that she never mentions and we presume she left behind at home.

Mickbell Tomas

Okay okay okay now the true insanity may begin! Please refer to this post to see Mickbell's profile pages. Also see the bath comic for another great show of his character! I cannot make a mickbell collage for this there is no pic page umm ummmm additional compilation here.

Despite being an adult of 22 years old, even older than Kuro both literally and developmentally, Mickbell often acts rather juvenile. He tends to be very black and white, he wanted to steal the corpse retrievers’ stuff and was mad when Kabru didn’t allow it, he thinks Kuro talking to others will make Kuro leave him. He's judgemental (exhibit A: comic about Rin smiling) and critical (esp with Kabru). All means justify the end (him having fun, becoming rich) but if others do something wrong efficiency or annoying behavior wise you better believe he'll voice it. He’s very expressive, both in body language and words, swinging his arms as he walks and jumping and stomping the ground in anger. He also has a mischievous streak. He’s casual with touch, touchy feely if you will, and clings to Kuro a lot, both for safety and because he simply likes to. Cough cough separation anxiety and abandonment issues. He knows how to be serious however, especially when it comes to money or risky situations. He does his job well and does it conscientiously. In many ways he's similar to Fleki, if Fleki was more dedicated on the job. He may be very layered, and manipulative when he wants to be, but he seems to value in others the same type of directness that he has with emoting and interacting with others, as seen with his distaste for Rin being a tsundere. He's blunt and straightforward (whenever he isn't with Kuro or scamming), and in that way it seems those are values of his, which may be why he does usually gets along best with Rin, especially on the job.

He has loose ethics and likes to goof around but is otherwise often highstrung, reflecting Kabru's "relax a little" view of him. He's serious on the job- a contrast you can especially notice in the christmas exchange special. He had to steal and do scams to survive, again the christmas special shows he's good with money and making deals- mischievous and full of himself when he has to sell stuff and quick to flee when he smells trouble, but very focused when it comes to calculating costs and revenue.

Again, despite all his troublemaker toddler behavior Mickbell is surprisingly serious! It's still undeniable that he has capital i Issues, from being very uncaring about how others may see him and developing this "it's us vs the world" mentality with Kuro, to how emotional, exaggeratingly expressive and impulsive he is- in a way that lacks emotional regulation skills I'd even say, to what he says when something displeases him like "she'd be a lot cuter if she smiled more" about Rin after she doesn't laugh at his jokes... This all seems to point towards Mickbell having pretty bad emotional intelligence. You could even easily call him stunted. He doesn't seem very self-aware, his manipulation of Kuro is not something he can do solely unconsciously but it is genuinely debatable how much he knows he cares about Kuro, how much he's aware of what he feels & why, why he says what he says and does what he does. What would he do if you told him that trying to manipulate Kuro into thinking that everyone except Mickbell wants him in shackles and in pain and wanting to have a house and a nice domestic normal life with him is sort of mutually exclusive? I don't think he thinks about the wider picture like that, I think it'd cause some dissonance a bit. He thinks ahead when it comes to finance, but socially he seems to very much live in the moment, not really trying to anticipate how much others will appreciate his input or behavior or thinking about how he'll keep up the charade 2 years down the line. He wants to hustle his way out of being homeless, but in many ways he still has the mentality he had to have for running scams and surviving on the streets at his lowest, one day at a time, succeed this step so you can then succeed the next. In his mind he's constantly making charisma rolls on Kuro and he needs to not fail them.

Don't you worry Mickbell & Kuro is getting a whole section, buuut with Mickbell and Kuro both, character analysis is inseparable from analysis of the two's relationship. The ethics and circumstances of Mickbell working Kuro for peanuts are surprisingoy complex- because that is how Mickbell sees their dynamic, but Kuro sees it completely differently and assigns himself full agency in wanting to stay. Kuro obviously wants to follow Mickbell, and that’s what Mickbell takes advantage of unknowingly, what he thinks is Kuro’s helplessness. What I find much more alarming is Mickbell’s need to control not only Kuro's economical and social life but every aspect of his life. He’s not only overcontrolling, paranoid that someone will want to steal him away from him (both for Kuro’s sake but very transparently desperate to not allow Kuro to leave him as well- will get expanded on), but he also wants to isolate him. It’s no coincidence Kuro has no friends apart from Mickbell- the closest thing would be Kabru and even with him, communication can be difficult and Mickbell does interfere. It's not Mickbell's fault there is a language barrier, but it is Mickbell's fault that Kuro has amassed so few tools in navigating the world without Mickbell, but it is his fault that Kuro feels like he can't tell him he's learning common with Kabru, and it is Mickbell's canonical intent to render Kuro just that, powerless enough to need him- again I cannot overstate how it is straight up said and confirmed in the Adventurer's Bible that Mickbell mistreats Kuro the way he does because he's scared Kuro would/will leave him. Mickbell sees their relationship as employer-employee while Kuro sees it more as guardian & guy who needs to have one, but it is also said that Mickbell sees Kuro as family, and I do think that makes sense, and I do think it can't be overstated how on a deeper level it's Mickbell who needs Kuro, and that Kuro is Mickbell's absolute most important person in the world- his only person in the world, even, in many ways.

"Until he met Kuro, Mickbell was all alone in the world, so he seems to see him as family."

Mickbell is desperate for stable relationships, both seen with his clutch on Kuro and his wanting a house to settle in. Or I suppose, relationship singular, he seems very ride or die on the idea that Mickbell and Kuro are the only thing each other needs, he never seems to particularly try or want to befriend others, is a bit clammed up on himself. Distrustful, assumes bad faith, especially as we see with the half-foot union. Perhaps because he's never felt a sense of community where helping each other out of good will was a thing, survival made everything transactional living on the streets, so he has a hard time having good faith with organizations like unions, and this notion of relationships being transactional would have also shaped why he would frame his and kuro's relationship that way, as employer-employee. Not to say he doesn’t like socializing though, we see him work a room all self-satisfied and tell jokes in an extra comic, and he gets peeved when Rin doesn’t laugh at his jokes, he does like getting general social approval. As he isolates Kuro he also willingly isolates himself, and is ready to burn bridges or opportunities for him.

He's sleazy! Debate about egg or chicken all you want, but I think Mickbell running scams definitely shows in how manipulative he is in relationships as well. With the christmas gift exchange thing we see that he can do scams the straightforward way, selling an item to be much more than it us for an inflated price, but it is specifically said that Mickbell doesn't have half-foot pride the same way Chilchuck does and has no problem using his race to "curry favor", so I would think he's done the emotional manipulation kind of scamming as well, acting like a child in need or such. "If you can use something, you should" is stated to be his motto. Because in a life like his you don't have a lot, you seize the opportunities you get because it's a matter of survival and there's no ace up your sleeve dirty enough to justify not taking advantage of it. All this to say- Mickbell's most iconic scene is arguably his short interaction with Kuro here, and it's extremely blatant manipulation. The anime even ups this with the teary eyes and voice acting- the borderline tears followed by a grin shows just how conscious and intensive his manipulating really can get. Again there's a transactional lens he sees relationships through I think- and that plays into Mickbel scamifying his relationships up... Which in the end I do think he feels scummy over. Simply because, chaining someone to you like that is not something you do if you think you're lovable- if you're all that, if you're great and likable and worthy of unconditional love. That man can't believe in that, he can't believe in his life partner of many years choosing to stay if that didn't happen to be his only viable option. Mickbell lives in fear of being abandoned and it's in good part because the world has taught him he's not valuable on his own.

I think Mickbell lives in fear!! And I think that's deeply interesting. Makes sense for someone with such an harsh extreme upbringing as him to be hypervigilant, with food like with money the way he is with the party, he keeps grudges, both in his backstory extra comic and during canon. He lives in fear and distrust and all these little ways he knows toxmake himself feel more powerful than he is. And I think it's so, so interesting how when he finally accepted Kuro following him, inventing something about him becoming his bodyguard, it was because Mickbell just witnessed Kuro kill and maim a man and he was shaking, so afraid but also accustomed enough to violence and needing to bullshit his way through situations to tell Kuro things like "I'm your master" and for Kuro to just go along with it. Mickbell's is the art of faking it till you make it. Mickbell was afraid of Kuro then, and I do think Mickbell was scared of the idea of what this kobold man stranger could do if he decided that Mickbell wasn't his master after all, until his attachment grew and keeping the charade going was less out of a need for Kuro not to hurt him and more out of a need for Kuro not to leave him. So the fear of retribution because he did not know Kuro became a fear of abandonment when he did learn to know and love him- Kuro leaving him alone, the very thing he desired the firt time they met and Kuro followed him after Mickbell freed him. And this is why I made this web weaving about them this makes me ill good god. He lives in fear of being "found out" by Kuro in a way, for this scam of a relationship to be discovered so he only gets tangled up in his manipulation more and more to keep it going as the stakes keep rising and rising because Mickbell is only more invested with time- and he fears that Kuro would realize it one day but he also fears others will expose him, a big part of why he monitors what others say to Kuro, why he wants to be there whenever Kabru talks with him, why he's so scared at the slightest conversation had out of his hearing range. But! Part of it I'd say is also genuine fear that they could take advantage of Kuro, perhaps because due to his own taking advantage of Kuro and how readily the kobold accepts it Mickbell sees Kuro as a particularly vulnerable person, that he could get tricked by anyone, and let's remember that Mickbell met Kuro in a slave trader's cage- Mickbell's fear of others "taking Kuro away from him" is a double edged sword, it's 'them turning Kuro against Mickbell' but it's also what he always says about Kabru or others trying to 'kidnap' Kuro, what he says about how the half-foot guild wouldn't like his bond with Kuro and take him away from Mickbell. He's drunk his own koolaid in many ways. Separation anxiety and abandonment issues!!!!! Distrust at the world and feeling like he can never have nice things or be safe!!! And this plays suuuuuch a role in Mickbell's dream of having a house I think. Because a house is safe- a house means routine, means a place you can stay in and be protected by, is there a more emblematic symbol of stability and safety? In a house Mickbell is shielded from others' gaze and judgement, he's sheltered from the rain and he can keep food inside, he doesn't have to sleep with one eye open to not be attacked or have his things stolen through the night anymore, no there are four walls and it's warm and he and Kuro can live a peaceful life unbothered, away from the rest of the world that seeks them harm and wants them separated. Which hey that could parallel surprisingly deeply Chilchuck's feelings about a house actually, a house and family as something he has but that can be lost and destroyed- both in people leaving and in nightmares of home invasion.

But like Mickbell telling Kuro to stop snarling and growling because it's scary is such a good and fascinating example of this. How much of it is "it scares me" and how much of it is "you're damaging your own reputation, I'm scared of how people will react if you look too beastly and dangerous and what they might do to you- to us"? And this is especially true because Mickbell knows that kobolds are discriminated and how- for these years they've known each other Mickbell has been the one being the middleman between Kuro and the whole world- he's the one securing board and room for the both of them, noticing how people treat them and what they whisper about them, he's the one who gets told "this bathhouse doesn't allow kobolds" and he's the one who decides to leave and visit every bathhouse until they find one who does allow kobolds, becayse he's not taking a bath without Kuro. Mickbell is sticking with Kuro. They are ride or die for EACH OTHER not just oneway. Mickbell washes Kuro, he did that first time after they met each other and Kuro was a ghastly sight and very stinky, and he does now too, Mickbell patiently explains to Kuro how everything works, and when Kuro messes up something like getting Mickbell wet from shaking off water Mickbell gets mad but offers no punishment except chiding. In the bath comic, we see Mickbell spend HOURS brushing Kuro after his bath. There is immense care put into Kuro from Mickbell's end, as well.

"Now you're the cleanest dog in the whole wide world. No one can look down on you."

But hey, where did Mickbell learn "people leave"? That he’s unlovable and no one would stay for him? It’s a common fear that could be from anywhere honestly, whether insecurity alone or a very specific experience- but we do have trails we can follow... Mickbell lived in the slums of Kahka Brud, which he may have been birn in or interestingly enough since Kahka Brud is seen as a city of opportunities might have moved there. First of all, we have to wonder how he got into the streets in the first place. His relatives are listed as "unknown", but well, as a rule of thumb everyone has parents. Not even Kuro has "unknown" listed in his relatives section, and he's had cut contact with them for a long time by canon. What we know about the "relatives" section of Adventurer's Bible profiles is that it only lists living relatives, for example Marcille only has her mother listed, her father isn't listed as deceased and her step-father isn't listed there, meanwhile Kabru only has Milsiril listed, not his mother or even his father (which we don't know the status of, but Kabru doesn't know him either since he left when he was born). So what does this mean for Mickbell's relatives? Either he doesn't know what family he has, or he doesn't know if they're alive. It's not unlike how Kabru's name is stated as unknown, which either means he was renamed Kabru or that Kabru doesn't know just a part of it, like his last name- perhaps forgotten due to trauma, or his mother never told him due to their disowning them.

It could mean he was abandoned on the streets before he could remember so he doesn't know of any parent or caretaker they had, or it could be a lot of things. I do want to point out that both Mickbell and Kuro have "permanently out of contact" with their siblings, but Kuro still has his siblings listed on his profile, not "unknown". Since we get this info I do think Mickbell knew his sister, and I think it all lends itself to the "he doesn't know if they're alive" theory more. I mean, so much could have happened! But I think it's pretty safe to assume that Mickbell and his sister were on the streets together, until they were separated. Due to her messy hair and dead inside look I used to like to think she fell sick and as the older brother it fell on him to take care of both their needs and he couldn't manage to heal her before she died- or they were separated or something happened and he had to assume the worst. But something like some big event making them flee on their separate ways and then fail to see each other again, some other tragedy that made him part from her without knowing of her state... Or my favorite: one day she disappeared. Maybe he told her to stay there while he went to steal some food and he came back and she wasn't there, maybe one night she didn't come back to the alley where they always slept and she never did again, just. Did something happen to her? Was there an accident and she died in some ditch somewhere? Did someone kidnap her? Did she just leave him behind? He doesn't know. He doesn't know and he never will and he can't get an answer. And not having closure is almost worse than suspecting she's dead, or even if he knew it for certain. Because there's always a doubt. There'll always be that he doesn't understand what happened. There'll always remain that knowledge that things can just suddenly disappear one day, it'll be a normal day until it isn't, that people can leave, that everyone he's ever had (and there weren't many) HAVE left they're GONE and he's ALONE, and there'll always be that knowledge that Mickbell couldn't protect his little sister, couldn't even know she was in danger that time, if she was. Again in a way there's that parallel with Chilchuck where Chilchuck is very muh someone worried about the people he cares about's safety and has a protector role the best he can, and Mickbell usually is the one getting protected but he is very possessive and overprotective of Kuro, the one person he has. And just. Waughhhh. Idk if I'll make another post about Mickbell backstory speculation or his sister now if unprompted but for the record I like to call his sister Yukibelle/bella. Yuki because it means snow like deathly pale sickly skin, and it's a 4 letter japanese name, which being 4 letters 2 syllables suits half-foot names aaand most importantly, since Kuro isn't Kuro's real name and it just means "black" in japanese I like to think esp because of the language barrier taht that's just what Mickbell named him. And having no parents imo Mickbell would have named his sister, or even renamed her if she did have a name to spite whoever abandoned them...... In big brother fashion he likes to call her Yuckbelle. Ickybell and Yuckbelle the sublings ever. I was the one who chose your name so I can't make fun of it? Haha try again!........ I need to cope somehow guys. Having lived in the streets with the highest degree of life or death survival on the daily it's also easy to speculate Mickbell had other hardships and trauma like, say, selling his body and to people who are less than ideal. Just saying!! A lot of things you can resdy into his backstory that further explain or explore aspects of his character.

Unlike Chilchuck "I will never fight" Tims, Mickbell actually never fights. Like at all. Ever. His skills are clinging, cowering and getting covered, and giving orders. Both Chilchuck and Mickbell can be both mature and immature, but Chilchuck tends to embody maturity within the narrative and Mickbell is usually much more remembered as immature. Enneagram 6w7 (wants stability and simple pleasures & freedom on the side), same as Chilchuck. 6 is the fear of being without support and that's exactly what Kuro offers..... Very 8 as well, there's a case to be made about him being 683 like Chilchuck but I could see him be more of a 2 or 4 too. God he wants to be loved so bad. He's also quite tall but never mentions a diet to not set off traps, which may be because his diet is already poor. To me he seems like he doesn't care for culture at all having lived in survival on the fringe of society, similarly to him not having much half-foot pride, but he does smile as a dwarf so dwarves being the ideal body type still seems to be something he's in line with.

Post-canon, he opens a variety store with Kuro, and it's said his relationship with Kuro stays unbalanced. We don't know where it was opened, if they stayed in Melini or went back to Kahka Brud- but since Mickbell's dream is to specifically get a house in Kahka Brud's best neighborhoods and it's where he lived before on the streets, it seems to make sense house in Kahka Brud would still be his goal and to set up shop there. Not that we get an update on the house funds, the post-canon blurb is still in the near future after canon so their futures are still very much left open.

Kuro

Please refer to this post to see Kuro's profile pages.

Mickbell is so tragedy coded but Kuro is honestly... Like he's vibing. He has normalized the abuse (emotional manipulation & isolating the target both so that they need you for stability and emotional supoort + control their life and relationships are literally abuse tactics come on guys) but so much so that it appears both to Kuro and to us like that abuse has little grip on him, we see that he has more agency than we'd assumed. Kuro allows Mickbell to lower his quality of life way too much for sure, partly because Mickbell plays the part of vulnerable lil guy well, but what's so funny is that where Mickbell thinks he's being a mastermind all "🥺I was the one to save you from the streets, without me you'd be lost!! Everyone else wants you suffering, better stick with me!!😊" Kuro literally explains their relationship with "he's so pathetic and anxious, he needs me there :(" - which lends a whole new look to how pokerfaced Kuro always is when Mickbell is giving him his manipulative drivel lol. It flips the dynamic Mickbell was presenting because where Mickbell tries so hard to force their relationship to be that Kuro needs him, Kuro correctly identifies that it's Mickbell who needs Kuro- even more than for safety and financial reasons, because of emotional ones. So where it felt like their relationship was one where Kuro was fully tricked in that Kuro can only live by Mickbell's side for his own sake, Kuro wants to stay for Mickbell's sake and is well aware of Mickbell's issues and wants to help as a therapy dog would?? He doesn't care about the money or the food, he cares about Mickbell. The irony of it all is that Kuro could have left anytime, but stayed for Mickbell all along. It's easy then to assume that Kuro has it all figured out after reading the secret study session comic but that's also oversimplifying. Kuro seems emotionally intelligent in many ways- but sort of lacks sense in how it should be applied and how things should be, I guess is how I would put it? I still call their relationship abusive because it still is, Mickbell still isolates Kuro and manipulation is still the intent of a lot of what he says and does with him, and "well I know very well they're shitty but they need me" is a common dynamic irl in abusive and toxic relationships too, but it still reframes their relationship a lot to know that Kuro is not at the stage of "Mickbell is always right about everything and I'll follow him to the ends of the world because of it" but at the "this anxious miserable boy needs me and it's my duty to protect him". Mickbell is running a manipulation onemanshow against himself and Kuro is taking another path entirely, he has an immunity called language barrier lmao. /hj Kuro is hiding things from him Mick has no clue about, that he's having nightly study sessions with Kabru, but he's not hiding this out of a sense of fear but out of care.

Their relationship is based on misunderstandings and lack of communication, and that's due to a lot of things both the language barrier thing and how they tend to run with their own interpretations of things (Mickbell thinking he knows why Kuro stays, Kuro thinking MICKBELL IS A KID WHEN MICK IS OLDER THAN HIM). Kabru himself thinks that when Kuro becomes fluent in common and the two can truly speak together is when they'll really become fruends. It's a hopeful outlook! But it makes sense, because again their relationship is based on miscommunication, Mickbell is afraid Kuro only stays because he has to because Kuro can't reassure him that he cares for Mick, and Kuro only has part of the picture because they can't talk it out, so giving them the tools to truly be able to talk and understand each other fully would completely flip the dynamic. It's truly interesting how they only have each other, but even in their relationship they're both very isolated.

"I don't want to make him anxious if I can help it. He's still a kid, but he's been through a lot of rough stuff. I'd like to be somebody he can feel relaxed around."

So yes, Kuro explicitly thinks of Mickbell as a child he must protect and watch over, care for! He has a more mentor way to talk about it, but it's easy to assume Kuro sees Mickbell as family too. Especially since he has a lot of siblings, many younger! He has a bit of a protective instinct and thinks he should be a protector, simply because Mickbell needs him, not for other more grand or personal reasons. He takes upon himself, both duties and in general for everything, he can't talk with others but that's fine, he's a dungeon diver who gets worked hard and even fights and that's fine by him, he just takes upon himself incessantly, like with Mickbell he sort of shrugs and says it is how it is.

Kuro still thinking of Mickbell as a kid has interesting implications. During the main story Mickbell is 22 and Kuro is 18- how many years could they really have spent together? He left his hometown to see more of the world and was kidnapped at a port, so we could assume he left home after coming of age at 13. He was kidnapped at a port and was part of slave market on the eastern continent, where kobolds are rarer and thus probably more profitable, so it makes sense that he'd have gotten sent to the eastern continent straight away. Just travelling the sea can take a while- the world map makes me think the sea between the western and eastern continent is of Atlantic Sea size, which irl can take a little under a week to travel through at a good pace, but with the lack of navigation technologies compared to today if you're less sure of where to go it can be more around a month. Unlikely for Kuro to have spent all that long in a cage on a boat then, but where it could get messier is once he's on the eastern continent. Mickbell freed Kuro from the guy who was holding him in a cage calling him a demihuman trader rather than an owner, so Kuro wouldn't have gotten sold yet? Or traded between different slave merchants, I wouldn't be surprised if he changed hands a couple times without having been ever sold to a customer really. It's said that the Island has a slave market for example so there seems to be large demand in many places and for it not to be done in secrecy really. But their meeting happens in Kahka Brud let's remember- which is a city with a big economical growth and market & sompopulation due to the dungeon cluster there, so it'd make sense for Kuro to have been sent there straight. Kuro was obviously mistreated, shown to stink and likely starved not unlike Izutsumi's experience caged in a freak show, but he's not bony enough for me to really be able to give a time estimation of neglect and starvation with his looks alone. This is a lot just to say "Well if we assume he left home at 13 and was enslaved soon after leaving home, and the process of getting to Kahka Brud could have taken a month at fastest, he could theoretically known Mickbell since then". During canon they're both on the Island rather than Kahka Brud, but we have nothing to be able to tell when Kuro and Mickbell came to the Island, just that they came together and that he was probably hired when Kabru formed a party 2 years before canon. We can try to compare him with Chilchuck- Canon happens in year 514, but Chilchuck came to the island five years ago, when he formed the half-foot union. Comapring them is relevant because Chilchuck comes from Kahka Brud too, again the place with a cluster of dungeons, so Chilchuck and Mickbell choosing to come to the Island for dungeon diving prospects shows the same attitude that the Kahka Brud dungeons are already all pillaged and overworked and to seek dungeons elsewhere. And who knows, maybe Mickbell didn't really choose to become an adventurer, maybe it was just about fleeing Kahka Brud since that was where he stole and did scams, but dungeon diving does seem to be a desperate man's job in many ways so it makes sense either way. The way Mickbell talks about Chilchuck, I don't get the feeling Mickbell's been on the island for longer/as long as Chilchuck and for longer than the half-foot union's existed, which makes sense if we go by the "maximum 5 years ago" theory of Mickbell and Kuro's meeting. They likely stuck around Kahka Brud for a while before deciding to go for it and move to the Island. So I guess, we can shoot to say that they knew each other for a maximum of five years but a minimum of two? I like to think Kuro spent at least a couple of months enslaved and so I'd put my own estimate at around 3-4 years, which is already a lot if you're them. A looot of time to bond with the only person in your life.

It's a bit odd, usually in a character who's been stolen away from their home a goal of theirs would be to go see their family again, but Kuro never brings up anything like that. Whether that means his homelife wasn't great, or that he feels closure enough just continuing to travel as he wanted, or even that he more or less forgot because of the trauma, who knows truly. You'll notice his stated dream is to travel with Mickbell, which ironically is directly incompatible with Mickbell's dream of settling down and getting a house with Kuro to live in. Since he was kidnapped by slave traders at a port in his original continent, we can surmise Kuro always had a taste for travel. Kuro isn't even his real name, Yodan is! His detachment from his homeland, family and cukture is very interesting. He has no problem just leaving it all behind indifinitely.

So yes Kuro isn't his actual name- so "Kuro", meaning "black" in japanese must have been a nickname given to him, and I bet it was Mickbell. Being a half-foot and a kobold who can't understand each other, the language barrier made Mickbell just start referring to him by the color of his fur. Kuro never mentions his real name so it doesn't seem he particularly cares- which is a wider point about Kuro actually, that he seems to be very laidback and laissez-faire type, unbothered and passive. Things are how they are and he goes along with it. He's not a confrontational person but he also trusts his guts when someone like Izutsumi feels off. He never questions Mickbell. When Kabru inquires about him and Mickbell, Kuro goes "oh don't worry about it it's nothing tbh". Which is also in line with how it's stated Kuro doesn't give a rat's ass about honor or wealth, he doesn't really seem to have a moral compass as much as "Mickbell is what matters to me so only what Mickbell wants and thinks matters", he follows Mickbell's orders with blind devotion when it comes to work or what they decide to do with their lives and that's just well with him. This reminds me of Falin a lot, the way I perceive them. Just utter devotion to their loved ones without really caring for what's morally right or wrong- because love is the priority and loved ones' wellbeing and happiness are all that truly matter, and sacrificing themselves and their own agency to make that happen. Kuro overlooks his own needs because he prioritizes others', Mickbell's. I think his views on relationships and what’s normal are very skewed. That said, Kabru calls Kuro overprotective too, and I think Kuro can be very stubborn as well, and as we see with the comic where Kabru and him talk about Izutsumi's smell he's perfectly able to have strong opinions, he's not only the stoic type. Kuro's very coddling with Mickbell, and while I do think he's a nice guy I definitely think Mickbell is an exception where that's pushed to the extreme for Kuro, Kuro's fixated on Mickbell just as much as Mickbell is fixated on Kuro. Codependence has never been truer a word gdbdgd. Kuro is rather polite and conscientious, in a regular conversation you'd think he very well-adjusted, he's smart and very observant, not just aided by his nose but with how aptly he notices psychological aspects of Mickbell for example, he's eager to learn and hardworking.

Kuro's biggest interest and dream is referred to be travelling, he left home to do just that before he was ever kidnapped already so it's not even an acquired taste from being encaged. And that fits well with Kuro just following the flow imo, Kuro's wants like Mickbell are small pleasures in life like that, just walking around and seeing new sights... Mickbell wants food and a roof over his head and Kuro wants food and freedom. Ironically, their wishes are directly contradictory- Mickbell wants to live in a house with Kuro and Kuro wants to travel around with Mickbell, Mickbell even has his dream of a specific neighborhood. But it is very notable that both their dreams mention the other, whatever it is they end up doing they want to do it together. Post-canon, he opens a variety store with Kuro, and it's said his relationship with Kuro stays unbalanced. We don't know where it was opened, if they stayed in Melini or went back to Kahka Brud- but since Mickbell's dream is to specifically get a house in Kahka Brud's best neighborhoods and it's where he lived before on the streets, it seems to make sense house in Kahka Brud would still be his goal and to set up shop there. Not that we get an update on the house funds, the post-canon blurb is still in the near future after canon so their futures are still very much left open. Just wait until Kuro learns common...! That'll solve everything........!

I tried to go extensively into his parallels with Toshiro and Izutsumi here. Hmm 7w6? Noo 7w8 actually god... Too real... Get me out of here the Mickbell and Kuro double whammy is making me need a smoke. Soooo many characters in Dunmeshi have this theme of learning to live for yourself be comfortable in your skin and get in touch with your needs and desires more Kuro!!

Relationships

: Overlook

Ok THIS is the fun part. So I made this chart as sort of a summary- we'll especially be looking at the personal bonds and work besties relationships through sections, but that's not to say those dynamics are the only things going on. I tried to keep only the basics and essentials, but you could also totally have added a Kuro to Kabru arrow mentioning how Kabru is teaching him common, or one from Mickbell to Holm about how Mickbell crashes at Holm's place occasioanllu. I made the purple lines based on what we see in canon, but it’s totally possible that Rin also judges Mickbell and Kuro, and that Holm and Dia judge Kabru & Rin as well, even though I don’t really think so, not particularly.

And that's what I’m getting at here: their party has a lot hanging in the air that everyone is more or less aware of but don’t truly acknowledge aloud, don't speak about or resolve. Holm and Dia needle Mickbell about his treatment of Kuro but don’t actually do anything or push, Kabru tries to help by teaching Kuro common but seems to be content "meddling" in only small subtle ways over time like that doing just what he can, concludes that the relationship mess goes bot hways and decide to just keep an eye on it quietly, meanwhile Mickbell seems tired of seeing Rin and Kabru bicker over her crush when Kabru teases and they argue, but doesn’t think to have a tal kabout whatever the fuck it is they have going on- it’s routine, it’s just how things are. It's commonplace- so their serious accusations about Mickbell are mentioned a grand total of twice and that's that, and only Mickbell out of everyone acknowledges aloud that Rin and Kabru have a weird thing going on and that Rin is weirdly deoted to Kabru/loves him implicitly. Everyone is much more ready to comment on Kuro & Mickbell than Rin & Kabru- which, absolutely deserved yes, but are what Kabru and Rin have not intensely weird behavior. Would you not get a headache trying to understand what's going on there and listening to their flirting and scolding and arguments on the regular. Do they never get "this needs to stop"? No, only Mickbell? Okay

Made this lil collage above but it's notable that the whole party throws casual jabs at Kabru all the time also, whether about how he can't take care of himself or how obsessed or weird he can be. Although everyone has respect and trust for kabru, they're also all fairly comfortable criticizing him. We see this in the shapeshifter "what if" comic too- his party members often find KAbru too extreme and overly dedicated, but ultimately trust him and follow his lead. Dia keeps her nose out of things but beyond hater duo Mickbell & Rin, even Holm comments regularly on his people pleasing and bad cleaning and organisation habits. Paralleling the Laios hater duo of Marcille and Chilchuck in the main party, Rin and Mickbell are especially critical and harsh on Kabru, here's a short and incomplete compilation to illustrate the point. Do they do fuckall about it though? No not really.

Everyone at some point or other shows concern for Kuro, it shows they don’t default to treating him as furniture or a tool after a long time of working together, they value him, but there’s always a third party barrier through which they have to interact, Mickbell- except for Kabru who can communicate with him on Kuro's own territory and have alone time with. But no one except Kabru and Mickbell even try to talk to/with Kuro, and you could also easily argue Kuro is not fully humanized, there's how no one except Mickbell worried for Kuro here for example.

I want you to imagine being Dia or Holm. I want you to imagine what it must take for there to be not one but two insane dynamics in your party amongst your coworkers, with who your job is so to camp with for weeks at a time, and not even blink at it anymore. I want you to imagine being kind and queen of staying in your lane and having these two obvious codependent situationships amongst your coworkers and just go "if I don't acknowledge this things are gonna go more smoothly". Save them get them out of there. Just the occasional long suffering sigh and "Mickbell that's not right :/" and yes, your job here is done.

You really start seeing this pattern looking closer where their party are fraught with interpersonal drama. The will-they-won't-they casanova leader & his angry tsundere childhood friend and Mickbell and his "employee" he exploits and isolates from the wider world??????? Truth of their relationship aside as we've discussed, this is how people around them perceive their dynamics and the optics are insane (/negative hello). The true doom of Kabru's party is all this interpersonal drama going on??? The very thing Chilchuck fears about parties lol, HOW has this party not imploded on itself yet. And personally I think that's a good part of what they contrast with the main party about- Where Kabru's party failed, Laios' party succeeded because they talked their differences out, they challenged each other on topics they disagree on and argued, instead of always just brushing everything under the rug. The reason canon happens at all is becase under the emergency of the situation Laios decides to be vulnerable and come clean about his interest in monster cuisine after all, and yes judgement and racism is rampant at first, but they reach an understanding through open communication. Meanwile, Kabru's party doing social 8d chess.......... Just keep on making passive aggressive comments forever see where it gets you.

This party also has a running theme with unabalanced and onesided relationships, and emotional dependence/burdening. It feels weird for it to be so weirdly intricately developed and consistent even though it does nothing in the main story- except for strengthening the whole diverse living cast thing which is important to the lesson and theme of people coming together despite differences is good, and like, "you can't judge others' relationships and sitations without knowing them" you know, but. It's here man it's here and present and too loud for me to unsee. Rin is dependent on Kabru and there's an argument to be made about the reverse being true as well even if Kabru is emotionally unavailable, and then there's the codependent Mickbell & Kuro mess, and even Dia and her fiance are faced with some unbalanced relationship and emotional unavailability. So our lineup is kabrin, mickuro, Dia & fiance and Holm who has a barely breathing social life. I suppose the latter's not uncommn though, the same can be said with most of Laios' party including Namari and Toshiro.... But good lord. This combined with how Dia & Holm get along together the best does make the party dynamic really funny though in a vacuum, everyone's going razy with intense tea meanwhile Dia and Holm the quiet judgers who glance at each other like do you see this shit. You are the only one normal here. (One has researched illegal magic and the other grew up in a cult.)

To me it's also really interesting Kabru hiring Mickbell and Kuro especially. Kabru is someone who works off reputation a lot, he has his homegrown informant web called gossip buddies and whatnot, and we know that while he's willing to go to questionable lengths for his beliefs, he has a pretty strong sense of right and wrong where stealing from people who ripped you off and repeatedly led you to death was a no-no. With all the shit Mickbell is catching even now about his slave- ehem, business partner, I doubt Mickbell would have seemed anywhere squeaky clean. Kabru hired a pretty blatant morally loose person who has stolen and scammed- and I think that's very interesting. Was Kabru desperate for party members? Maybe with Dia and Holm, believing in his cause was important-? No no, it's more likely the other way around- only desperate adventurers (or the ones who specifically want Kabru as their party member) stick to being in his party, with all the failures it experiences. Mickbell and Kuro are the only on who don't express loyalty to Kabru, so maybe Kabru's party was the only party willing to hire him- especially if he and Kuro are a package deal where they both get paid. And there's how Mickbell isn't affiliated with the half-foot guild too! Which means no work protections for him but also no salary cut? But yes yes, especially with the way he treated the corpse retrievers you'd think he wouldn't want anyone shifty on his side, but there's also the side of Kabru that loves to help others out, both on a societal and an interpersonal level- and I like to think that despite Mickbell obviously being from a rougher crowd he not only saw the two of them for the skilled people they are but also just, saw they were in a tough spot and wanted to offer a chance y'know? I had a convo about that once where I asked my Kabru expert friend what they thought about Kabru's grasp on socioeconomics and helping out people who are in tough situations for circumstances beyond their control, because you'd think Kabru would be understanding but then with the corpse retrievers, who seem Not Well Off and are comprised by many mixed races individuals like a half-dwarf and a half-gnome........ Helki and Mickbell are alike in many ways and it's interesting to think that may have played a part... Kabru seeing this disheveled obviously sketchy down on his luck Mickbell and being reminded of the only father figure he's ever had in his life, another blonde smartass with a ponytail, an ex-convict from a rough criminal background… And wanting to hire him to help him have a chance to get out of that place lowkey... I'M JUST SPITBALLING!!!!

Anyways so getting back to the crux of the matter, this is how the party naturally divides up with each other, the same kind of way Laios & Senshi and Marcille & Chilchuck did especially early on.

But the interesting thing is that Kabru keeps everyone at a distance, Rin included, so how does it divide up when Kabru and Rin aren’t interacting? She stays alone? Nope, oddly enough she seems to gravitate towards Mickbell. And the reverse is true- which makes sense since his partner isn’t a good conversationalist. Mickbell doesn’t really see Kuro as an equal, Kuro is his beloved fool he's tricking on the daily in his mind after all, so he doesn't seek out Kuro for opinions, because unlike Rin Kuro isn't a peer. In the page on the right notice the second panel, everyone gives each other a silent glance and this summarizes the dynamics here really well. Kabru is telling his plan of keeping going and this is everyone's moment to agree or disagree. Holm and Dia look to each other, more neutral. Rin and Mickbell look to each other, seeming more displeased, and Kuro looks to Mickbell. In that second of gauging each other's feelings through a glance, their resolve and opinion gets steeled and everyone tells their feelings after, Mickbell and Rin more reluctant. On the left you can see who sits next to who, who walks next to who in the party formation- Rin is always right next to KAbru but Mickbell is at her side, with Holm following without attracting much attention to himself and Daya closing the group on the lookout for threats. Mickbell & Kuro and Rin & Kabru as actual friends impotant in each other's lives tend to duo up, meanwhile Dia & Holm and Mickbell & Rin are more like "each other's favorite coworker" than actual friends, so Holm and Dia don't even necessarily stick together, at the risk of being third wheels. In fact the christmas gift exchange is a good character writing moment with everyone, if you want to look at their gifts and reactions.

So yes this explains how I divided up the chart, the duos are Rin & Kabru bond, Mickbell & Kuro bond, Mickbell & Rin coworker besties, Dia & Holm coworker besties.

Rin & Kabru

I made a rather in depth post on their relationship recently, specifically trying to nail down whether or not Kabru could have/had romantic or ambiguous feelings for her beyond/instead of "big sister":

It's a good look at it that covers most of the matter and has much, much more pictures than I could otherwise put here, so I'm allowing myself to go over this section faster here and summarize things.

Their relationship is obviously very onesided and... Needy, for a lack of a better word, because Rin is clingy and Kabru is probably her one friend in her life currently- but it's always been that way anyways hasn't it, did she have anyone else at the elves' too, did she have any in the village she grew up in that hated her family so much they killed them? She's overbearing and hovers over his shoulder for mistakes when they're together, but her reason for doing so is out of worry for Kabru, that because of his ambitious and self-neglectful tendencies he'll get himself into trouble, and she's not wrong about that! Kabru holds himself on his own currently, but it's not hard to see a future where he slowly descends into neglecting himself more and more in his focus on his work, but no currently he's still able to endear his landlord into cleaning his room for him and to put himself to sleep with alcohol. The relationship is onesided because Rin's always the one pushing and Kabru never truly opens up, but their relationship does have push and pull too- Kabru does pull sometimes. It isn't like Kuro simply passively enabling Mickbell's issues and bad behaviors, but in many ways encouraging them. Kabru flirts with her. He jokes and he teases in ways that come dangerously close to acknowledging aloud she has feelings for it, and never turning her down despite it being clear to us he has no intent on ever reciprocating them- He leads her on, whatever his intent is. And I go into possibilities of how and why in the separate post a lot, but overall I'd say that it's because he does need her back in a way too. It's that repressed desire for connection that rears its head with Laios and even Mithrun too. Maybe they're an ill-fitting match, but it's what he has, the friend he's had for the longest- Like I like to say, seeing Rin as his best friend is so sad and tragic but it’s also not wrong. From what we see she’s the closest to him, which is sad to think about. How can a guy’s social life be so thriving yet down in the dumps truly. She completely relies on him for purpose in her state in canon and dumps her emotions and issues on him, but he does play with her back and avoids his emotions and needs through her too. He has the uer hand in their dynamic, was even the one to ask Rin to come along with him when they left the elven kingdom. She's a fixture in his life, she's a safety net, she's someone who'll love him unconditionally, who even if he mistreats her a bit he knows she'll stick with him. He sees her as a big sister, after all. He knows her tough love is love. Does he give her jokes to latch onto as his way to keep her in check, or to make sure she'll want to keep following him? He can't bear to bare himself to anyone, but if it's Rin, she knows infinitely well how Kabru isn't perfect, constantly reminds him of that, and where in every other relationship he tries to be or has people believing he is perfect, with her he can be a little rotten, a little inconsiderate- and idk idk man. I don't think there's really a conclusion we can get to with them, but a lot of their dynamic feels just very. Mutually unhealthy. Like self-harm almost.

And like, look at the picture of them dancing below! Just it alone implies a dynamic already. They balance each other out somewhat, because they're severe about different things, Kabru encourages her to let loose socially but Rin keeps him from getting too full of himself in his own corner, because she always keeps calling out to him specifically, to the Kabru she knows and that he knows she knows- though maybe doubts sometimes. They both keep each other from being too caught up in themselves- but both of them are also frowning here. They also enable each other in very bad ways imo and inadvertently push each other into their bad habits, nagging Kabru makes him retreat into his shell even more and approach their relationship calculatingly or even coldly knowing of her feelings for him, and getting all the attention from Kabru in a way she doesn't want- because she can tell he still has his walls up- makes her more frustrated and it's all just a bad cycle of feeding each other to continue just as the status quo is. Rin nags him so Kabru throws her a bone so Rin nags him etc. But they're also genuinely dear to each other, maybe more iut of memories than because of the present, so they can't really let go of each other. Fucking doom tango fr

My take on Rin being particularly severe on Kabru, beyond just being worried that any mistake has a dangerous cost for people like them, is that like. She knows Kabru, from way back, and she sees his persona, how he tries to be perfect for others and caters to everyone's needs except his own, how he keeps himself hidden like that. And she doesn't wang Kabru the persona, just Kabru the person, the man she loves- and he's trying to be perfect but it's futile, and it just makes him more cardboard cutout, he's being fake and it just makes her so angry how he keeps his distance with her, so at every turn she tells him when he's not perfect, at every turn she reminds him of his flaws, as if to say, "you can't be perfect, just stop". And every flirt he sends her way during the story makes her madder because again she knows it's just empty air to toy with her, so she scolds harder. Like I don't think she's a self-aware person in general, so I think she mostly just feels this as sadness completely masked with anger that drives her foward and makes her impulsively say things, and she thinks what she says is right and she's being righteous, but also there's just this gaping void in her at the state of things, there's frustration whenever she sees Kabru smile a plastic smile at others all the time, and she doesn't know why. And the only worse thing is to have that plastic smile targeted at her- but it makes whenever he offers her more genuine unprompted attention all the more precious, like in the comic about her smiling.

They kept in touch post-canon! But it seems inevitable to me that the change in their lives made them grow a bit more distant, not working together all the time anymore. Rin figures Kabru is being taken care of by now, being a part of the royal court, and goes to pursue her own ventures, but they're still friends and that shows with Kabru inviting her to the castle. Rin can't help herself but to visit him once in a while to see if he's still breathing I bet- I do think she has a bit of a "only I don't get fooled by you (especially when you say you're fine)" way to think about him and their rekationship, a big of why she'd say the "Don't think everyone's going to fall for you". Anyways, it is fun to theorize Rin might be a pharmacist often hired by the castle hehe, but yes yes that's all we get info wise. Here's to hoping she mellows out some

Mickbell & Kuro

So, their relationship is more messed up than Kabru and Rin's, but it's less up in the air/free grounds for interpretation, much more directly explained. Their character profiles & extra pages alone give a really good look at their relationship and both their perspectives of it: Kuro's family that Mickbell has to find ways to chain to himself or he feels insecure, Mickbell to Kuro is a vulnerable kid that he chooses to look after and go the extra mile of being mindful & considerate of said insecurities. I already talked about it a lot in the Mickbell & Kuro sections, and the post I linked above has a longer but more compact analysis of them- but yes yes I'll still cover the essential and the new here. I said it earlier but Mickbell needs Kuro more than Kuro needs Mickbell- Kuro is like the entirety of Mickbell's emotional regulation 'skills' lol, where Kuro needs Mickbell in a material sense where Kuro wouldn't be able to communicate well with others or go far without money and Mickbell, Mickbell needs Kuro because otherwise he'd be shattered- not to say that Kuro isn't also very useful to have around for his muscles. Both of them are very physically and mentally vunerable both, the pyramid of maslow is not being met on any level eesh. Kuro needs a compass and Mickbell needs an anchor, both of them needed a purpose in the day to day life of survival and both chose each other for that- protect Mickbell, and buy a house with Kuro. The human mind thrives off of goals, desires. Again this thing with compass & anchor is very reminiscent of Falin with Kuro, the way she centered her life around others, so much so that when she was a mentally compromised chimera she defaulted to that way of being with Thistle. But they're in that spot very similar to them where one is especially very mentally vulnerable and easy to control whereas the other is very physically vulnerable if the other were to decide they've had enough and go murder mode on him. It's the dog loving the chain on its collar.

How long have they known each other? Who knows, but I estimated it between 2 to 5 years, between when Kuro became an adult and when Kabru formed a party- but even those are just guesses. I also think he named Kuro, since Kuro's name is actually Yodan and "kuro" simply means "black" in japanese, with the language barrier Mickbell wouldhave just started nicknaming him by the color of his fur.

It’s important to remember how they started: Mickbell saving Kuro and Kuro saving Mickbell, Mickbell freeing Kuro out of spite which made Kuro follow him and then Kuro saving Mickbell by maiming the guy who had kept him in a cage and was threatening Mickbell, prompting Mickbell to suggest hiring him (while being broke) as a bodyguard, half out of fear half out of seizing opportunities? And we'll get to that but this is a good way to understand why they're both so "It's us vs the world", they both came from a similar situation surviving in the slums together but even before that they had the same man for enemy, Mick helped Kuro out and Kuro helped Mick out in turn, and they stuck together. So that’s the origins of Kuro being "his employee" that he’s working for peanuts, it’s less disingenuous and eager than we’d expect, the attachment Mickbell formed to Kuro was over time, eventually associating Kuro with both safety and companionship. Meanwhile Kuro seemed ride or die very early, being saved helped I’m sure, but remembering that Kuro thinks of Mickbell as a child to protect also helps frame why Kuro would be so ready to devote himself to guarding him- seeing a small vulnerable "kid" in all this danger, constantly surrounded by threats and famine. So in the end, a big factor for their relationship is that they can’t communicate for shit. For several reasons including language barrier, overly controlling and dehumanizing behavior/abuse tactics backfiring- and emotional constipation. They both have preconceived notions and they both just.... Don't really know each other. I don't think Mickbell even knows his name- Kuro thinks he's a kid! They don't know each other, but they also know each other in the way of familiarity, in the form of having spent years inseparable glued to each other. Mickbell doesn't know Kuro's name and Kuro doesn't know Kuro's age, they don't know the other have siblings they have cut contact with and they don't know each other's dreams, they've never had an actual conversation especially on equal grounds, but also they know each other's mannerisms. They know each other's favorite foods. They know the sound of each other laughing and crying and the feeling of each other's warmth. They know each other but they also don't know each other at all!!!!! Crazy crazyyyy dynamic.

The "it's us vs the world" is so so strong with them especially from Mickbell's end, and can you blame him? Can you blame him when he's been kicked down like a dog all his life and he sees that in Kuro too? And perhaps no one else can ever understand Mickbell and know and stay with him like Kuro does, even when they can't even have actual conversations. This is it for Mickbell, Kuro is all he'll ever get in his mind and he's intent on never letting go, he's all he'll ever get and us all he wants and he cannot, will not, ever, let him go.

And the whole snarling-growling thing is very interesting too, especially since that's contrasted with Kabru (scroll down here for pictures). Mickbell has little experience with kobolds beside Kuro but also his first impression of Kuro was seeing him bite and maim a man to death. Kabru has experience with kobolds from his homeland where they're seen as more serious threat than cute doggy people, where there was fighting and rumors and presumably contact too since Kabru learned some of kobold language and he was only 6, AND Kabru has trauma with monsters and beasts in general. When Kuro growls, Mickbell goes "hey I told you to stop growling that's scary :/", and Kabru goes "Kuro, what's wrong?". And this is sooo so fascinating to me. Part of this already is again the language barrier, Kabru can ask Kuro to comfortably explain the issue where Mick cannot (he could still try though since Kuro can still speak some albeit broken common), so with Mickbell Kuro only has body language that doesn't come naturally to non-kobolds to communicate with- but Mickbell dismisses it as regularly as he doesn't. Part of it for Mickbell is having been on the other side of Kuro when angry, having seen how scary he can be and afraid himself- but then why? Does Mickbell still get scared of Kuro when he snarls and acts like that, the way a lot of us flinch when someone gets mad and yells? Does Kuro feel more unpredictable then, and that's scary for many reasons? Or maybe it's because he's scared of the way others see Kuro, that others will dehumanize Kuro if he emotes in ways like this. From where they come living on the streets, looking wrong at the wrong guy can cost a lot, so Mickbell may have extra developed a sense of keeping your head down at the right times and not provoking when risky- and he can't fully control Kuro so when that choice is out of his hands things feel a lot more shaky. Of course though in any case, growling or no growling Mickbell sticks with Kuro, keeps holding onto him when he snarls, it never crosses his mind to step away from Kuro or leave him behind, consequences or uncertainty be damned. Just, the justified concern mixing with the unhealthy possessiveness and controlling, the genuine fear... It represents their wider relationship pretty well in just one example.

He fucking sticks with Kuro with the baths!! Many bathhouses don't accept kobolds but Mickbell tirelessly keeps looking for one who will, Mickbell and Kuro are a PACKAGE DEAL and it stays that way even when it's inconvenient for Mickbell. Mickbell washes Kuro and spends hours brushing him afterwards with immense care and patience, there's effort there on his end too there is consideration and love!! They are sooooo ride or die!!!! "Now you're the cleanest dog in the whole wild world, no one can look down on you"!!!!!!

They have incompatible dreams of the future, Mickbell wants to settle down in a house and Kuro wants to travel, both want to do it together. My thing with Mick & Kuro post-canon is the only ways I see it develop and go down is: 1) Kuro becomes able to easily converse with him and their relationship changes with a lot of rough bumps but slowly and surely towards something better and/or 2) Kuro leaves to travel here and there while Mick manages the house, they’re still in a life partnership but they’re ok being apart for a while now. Mickbell learns that leaving doesn’t mean there’s no coming back and to live beyond each other ykyk <3 But while Kabru himself is hopeful that when Kuro becomes fluent in common Mickbell and Kuro can "really become friends", their post-canon blurbs break our hopes for a near future resolution, specifying that Mickbell "still works Kuro hard". They open a variety store together! I like to call it Mick & Kuro's knick knacks <3 Does Mickbell still keep his prices and product descriptions dangerously close to being scammy? Possible! He's earned it though he has his own store brooo his own building his own business... I know that shit got him emotional We do see that Kuro gets him to be healthier slowly but surely though- in the last chapters we see him push Mickbell implicitly towards the half-foot guild! Kuro is protective but not possessive and he encourages Mickbell to get out of his shell, reflecting how he talks about Mickbell as someone needing support and gentle care & understanding- he was being real about noticing his issues and wanting him to become happier.

Once upon a time back in my early days of shipping mickrin I entertained the thought Mickbell's attachment to Mickbell may have a romantic nature mixed in as well, whether it'd be "genuine" or maladaptive's too complex for me to say- but what was funny is that even in that case to me nothing changed. I think that in a world where Mickbell likes Kuro romantically, he would neverrr ever make a move because he'd be too terrified Kuro would dislike it and leave- so instead it just gets lashed out in different ways and he vents & seeks that out in other people kinda hoping it'd be Kuro or whatever. Kuro's too precious to risk is the thing. "It's us vs the world" and if Kuro leaves then is when he would be truly alone- like I mention in the Mickbell & Kuro I linked I think Mickbell is very afraid of change. It's why I think the possible future of Kuro learning to talk common well would be rockier than we'd assume at first- and I think in that fear of change is the fear of changing the nature of their relationship and lowkey even the fear of deepening it- What if Kuro starts actually understanding what Mickbell always says and decides Mickbell is stupid and unlikable after all? What if Kuro starts talking and Mickbell doesn't like what he says? What would Mickbell do if Kuro started being more inquisitive, asking more questions and requesting more things? Mickbell is terrified of Kuro having agency and it's for a reason!! Mickbell lowkey dehumanizes Kuro as a possession sometimes because that's less scary, because Kuro being a full person with his own wants and thoughts detached from Mickbell is scary!!

Mickbell needs to be Kuro's whole world- because if Kuro got a taste of the rest of the world, everything else there is beside him- beyond him-, then how could Mickbell possibly compete with that? How could Kuro choose Mickbell over the world? And the irony of it all the thing that gets me choked up is that along it was never a competition, the world has always been Kuro's love, travelling is his main interest, and he wants to travel it with Mickbell- The world is wonderful and Mickbell's presence doesn't take away from it but enriches it, makes the world even more valuable and treasured and life more enjoyable and full and god. God!!!!!

So yes these are insane coworkers to have and this is the dynamic that has Dia and Holm side-eye Mickbell and ask him when he's planning to free his house elf. Imagine having a group project in school and these dudes are in your group.

Rin & Mickbell

The hater duo, no 1!!!! Dia & Holm is the second one but they can't hope to match these two's intensity and hater aura. This is our moment to breathe we're getting back into Kuro & Mickbell madnedd after

I compile their most relevant interactions here, and you can also see a small compilation of them combining their hater powers on Kabru here. There'S a lot of things that make them really fun to pair up, like how they're easily the top 2 most unpleasant bitter Kabru party members and how they like each other best anyways lol, or how they're both in a codependent situationship- and they both have similar defense mechanisms of most things getting filtered through anger, but what's especially interesting is how they're different in the worst way, in Rin's codependent relationship she's the one who gives and devotes herself, the self-sacrificial one, and in Mickbell's codependent relationship he's the one who takes and takes, the self-centered one.

That's already me getting lost in the sauce though because these two are just coworkers and that ends there- in fact with the tavern comic about Rin smiling we see that they get along much more at work than outside of it. I think why they get along is exactly that blunt and critical nature of theirs- Neither hesitate or bother with politeness or little games to say what they have on their mind and when something's a bad idea- it's why with even just a "you see this shit?" glance at each other they get steeled and soothed into reluctantly agreeing with Kabru, "Well, if Mickbell/Rin is okay going along with Kabru's plan, it must be fine after all... Not that we won't shoot him with laser beams with our eyes". Like I said earlier even though Mickbell can be manipulative, but he emotes very strongly and openly and is very blunt as a rule, he seems to value in others the same type of directness that he has with emoting and interacting, as seen with his distaste for Rin being a tsundere in the same tavern comic. You could reach and theorize his distaste in Rin acting all happy because Kabru complimented her, despite her still being very sour, is also from a feeling that she's being easily manipulated, which could be interesting... But yes yes, and similarly Rin is drawn towards someone who is similarly severe with high standards and who's very cautious with plans and money, and with her distaste for Kabru's own playing around and fake politeness it's interesting to think she'd find someone who's authentic to the point of being unabashedly unpleasant refreshing. So yes yes, they're united in haterism, and they look to each other for opinions, and they sit together, and when they meet Laios' party with Toshiro's Mickbell tugs on her (the only other who took a hard stance on wanting the "thieves" to pay) dress to go "hey you see these bastards?", and when Rin casts waterwalk on the party it feels very familiar- which shows still how much familiarity the party has developed together. They don't get together to have a laugh or have fun, but they seem to be each other's favorite coworker and be often on the same wavelength, easily understand each other's thoughts from even just a glance.

You can feasibly theorize Mickbell has a crush on Rin and is jealous of Kabru for it, considering he's always hanging around Rin when it isn't Kuro, how he hangs onto her on the regular, when he sighs seeing Rin and Kabru argue because Kabru flirted, when he's always on Kabru's case, when he's the only one who brings up Rin & Kabru's relationship, when he gets frustrated she doesn't laugh at his jokes and says she woud be much cuter and more charming if she smiled more- which we see Mickbell beam at. Misogynistic energy? Yes. No one said Mickbell hasn't some incel tendencies in him lol. I don't think that's the intent though and all these things can be easily explained by other stuff, but all of these together make it a coherent angle, if you so wish for it. Mickbell lashing out at those he likes because he's insecure when he doesn't have their full attention who'd have thunk! The mickrin manifesto is coming another dayyyy though I can't get more sidetracked

Kuro & Kabru

I already went into some things a bit like Kabru's reaction to Kuro growling despite his trauma wit hbeasts and experience with kobolds' nastier side, and I have a post where I let myself ramble about the two of them here- I'm sorryyyyy I'm sorry everything is so interconnected I can't not repeat myself and link stuff!! But once again I'll cover the bases here- In a non shippy light but also the original post is 90% parallels and analysis too

So their relationship is really interesting in many many ways. Kabru is teaching Kuro to speak and write common in secret, which shows many things already. In the party he's by far the most considerate and caring of Kuro, we see him listen to Kuro's worries about Izutsumi also. We see him ask Kuro about his opinions, for Kuro that's revolutionary, we see him take Kuro's concerns seriously and extensively talk about them and he accommodates with talking kobold as well. For being the one with monster & demihuman trauma, he's the one who humanizes Kuro the most- perhaps because it forces him to take Kuro seriously and keep in mind the whole of him, not only appearances or behavior, in an hypervigilance and "I know what you are" way, if that makes sense?? We see Kabru's urge to spend time to give a voice to the voiceless, to help this one dude, his coworker living in questionable circumstances. And all of this, again, despite his trauma, despite him saying it's best to assume communication with demihumans is impossible in the kobold extra!!! Do see the irony!! And many say that Kabru only said that because it was the Touden siblings and he wanted to say anything to make them think twice about blindly approaching the "cool cute desert dog people", but even if that's fully the case I still think it's interesting that he'd be willing to throw demihumans he spent his early childhood coexisting with under the bus like that- in a way.

He's giving Kuro knowledge... Teaching him like Milsiril once did- the thing he himself most grateful to her for. From one disempowered person to the other he's teaching societal survival skills. He's tutoring Kuro on his own best weapon: words. And he does this in secret, with no laurels and no reward, at night on the regular. I think their dynamic really goes to show just how much Kabru cares about others, how even though he sees Kuro as more "photorealistic" and less cartoony than the others, both because he knows the dangers of kobols and he takes them more seriously- and inadvertently emphasing on the beastly animal side taking away the endearing exaggerated features..... Even then, he's so so very considerate, and kind, and he cares, and how much he wants the world to be better and equal and for everyone to live well. And this shows in how the nightly sessions are also a way he gets to interact with Kuro away from Mickbell's eyes- This is where Kabru inquires about their relationship and learns about Kuro's vision of things. Whenever Mickbell steps in Kabru immediately folds, makes himself as non-threatening and unimposing to Mickbell as possible and steps away without resistance to ease his worries, but when he's away Kabru and Kuro can actually talk. And Kuro does open up to him, and hearing his thoughts Kabru learns about them andconcludes that both of them are overprotective over the other- He sees that the issue and the overattachment isn't oneway, and acts in kind. Kabru keeps an eye on them, as seen also with the end of the extra about Izutsumi's scent, helping in the ways he can, subtly through acts like helping Kuro learn common so one day he and Mickbell may talk.

Kabru is likely the closest thing to a friend Kuro has currently, beyond Mickbell. Which is crazy to think about!! But also man I want you to imagine them having their late night study sessions, talking about their home the western continent together for a bit. Kabru gets to talk about the desserts he couldn't talk about in the elven kingdom and Kuro recognizes them, in just talking about the weather they find so much commonplace, in traditions and myths and habits and ways to be- And maybe from where he's from Kuro's heard of the evil eye as well, knows that tallmen with blue eyes are rare and seen as bad omens, disowned and chased out of cities, but Kuro offers no judgement and so Kabru offers none in return. Like their arrows towards each other are "kobold" from Kabru to Kuro and "he speaks my language", and that's so crazy!!!! That's so little but that's so crazy!! And I truly cannot handle typing these thoughts again so just scroll down here but my god my god!! The heartwrenching isolation of them.

Ah yes- there's also something to say about how only he and Mickbell don't follow Kabru with any solid sense of loyalty! Everyone else praises Kabru's cause and says they're there for him to achieve it, but Mickbell stays quiet on that lol and almost walks out at one point- and then Kuro very straightforwardly says that he'll follow Mickbell whatever he decides- As much as Mickbell is Kuro's "employer" Mickbell is Kuro's leader, Kabru might be the team coordinator in his eyes and he does respect him, but the only cemented in loyalty he has is to Mickbell. Ironically, he's also the one who rates him as a party leader best! At a high 95% score. Which still shows just how much Kuro likes and respects Kabru... And also might show how low his standards are, since the party keeps dying under his lead- Kuro hasn't had great impressions of bosses and workers' rights after all- like with people's behaviors and living conditions and whatnot he has bare minimums standards, a very low bar, like him thinking of Kabru as "The guy who speaks my language!" something that should be so normal, being able to communicate with someone in a language you're comfortable and fluent in, has become something exceptional and precious.

Kabru & Mickbell

Okay this one is sooo interestingly layered. So there's a lot that goes into Mickbell's onesided beef with Kabru- I can try to summarize it as that Kabru seems effortlessly charismatic.

Part of it is as Mickbell puts it here and here, that he's afraid Kabru will steal Kuro away somehow (and that's without knowing about their study sessions). Kabru is so charismatic and likable, and kind something that as we se Mickbell tends to approach with suspicion- nothing in this world's free. Believing that Kuro only stays with Mickbell because he has to and that Mickbell successfully fools him, it's not hard to see him being afraid of Kabru "telling Kuro stuff" that'll convince Kuro or turn him against Mickbell, "he's a smooth talker, don't let him kidnap you"! It's again that belief that Kuro is easily fooled mixed with Mickbell's belief that no one could choose him over others if they had option- who wouldn't go for the cool and handsome charismatic witty tallman? Even his fave coworker who's just as severe as him is all wrapped up around his finger after all. And then there might be more general jealousy at work, about Kabru being an ideal with all these qualities and how well off he seems despite being broke too, Mickbell possesses so few qualities and his party leader that he finds incompetent on top of everything else just has "every quality given to him on a silver platter" or whatever resenting drivel Mickbell would think up. And then yes there's as I put it, the incompetence- Kabru and Mickbell think & operate in very different ways, Mickbell is very direct while Kabru is very indirect, Mickbell is very practical while Kabru is very guided by ideals- they have very different conceptions of "the end justifies the means", very different goals of self-serving vs greater good. They have different morals and views on retribution with the corpse retrievers, he's the one who pushes most against Kabru's plan of keeping going into the dungeon even after things go wrong and so he's the one who gets his concerns dismissed by Mickbell most, alongside Rin. Like with Rin he seems to see Kabu as reckless and as someone who takes things too lightly, which as someone who takes his job very seriously is frustrating, and like with Holm and Dia too he seems well aware of his flaws with people and his "fakeness", which doesn't endear him lol. Also someone stubborn- which from someone stubborn to another is always a sign of a great war incoming lmao.

And I do want to reiterate the beef is onesided!! Kabru is maybe even the most charitable and patient with Mickbell. As much as Holm let him and Kuro crash for a night, Kabru was the one to give him the money to go to a bathhouse. You can see his look of concern at stinky Mickbell in the first panel lol.

Again I'll share this comp of Mickbell and Rin being on his case, to see some examples! And my personal favorite:

And notice the Dia-Holm sideglance in the next-to-last panel. Is it a "he spitting some truth rn" or a "Ahh Kabru is on his corny shit again"? Wouldn't you like to know lmfao

Daya & Holm

You looove to be unbothered and uninvolved in the love square happening. The hate triangle if you will (Kuro isn't involved in that one he dgaf). You looove to just give professional opinions on the party's plans and that's it, you love keeping things to yourself and being a quiet pillar of the party rather than anything showy or flashy. I just love their side-eyes I just love making them quietly judge everyone especially togther, "you are my partner in sanity" fr.

Even together they don't have that strong a bond, like with Rin & Mickbell it starts and ends with their work dynamic pretty much. Still, consistently over and over again when the party divides itself into subgroups naturally, these two gravitate towards each other. As above a Daydream Hour shows them hanging out (off-work considering their outfits?) and points out that they're the party members "closest in age", 58 and 76 respectively, the oldest beside them is Rin at 24. Developmentally, with just proportionally comparing their lifespan to tallman's and calculating in kind Dia would be 23 while Holm is 30, so this thing about being closest in age seem to be about them both being longlived races, thus having a more similar sense of time and outlook on the world for it. They do seem to be all around the most mature and well adjusted of the group- although those appearances can for sure hide some deep flaws we just haven't been able to truly notice.

OTHERS?

These are the ones I felt were worth commenting on but they all have litle dynamics between each other, with Mickbell & Daya the least probably, for example if you want Holm & kabru thoughts I made a ship post about them and compiled most of their interactions. Like, I do like to summarize Holm @ kabru as "i won't talk about it but damn you live like this??". Holm @ most of the party actually lol. Holm has bigger fish to fry anyways, like Mickbell, who already outranks Kabru there and then crashes at his house on top of it. Holm and Rin often team up to talk about magic, when shopping or when Kabru asks something.

Daya and Holm have less strong & deep dynamics because they have less ties, simple as, they keep themselves less entangled in what's pretty much office life- yes they're willing to risk their lives to dungeon dive with th party, but that's as with any adventurer, as with everyone desperate and unstable enough to have it as their main job. Rin is tied to Kabru so that gives her importance, but Mickbell and Kuro have each other so it gives the party dynamic around them a lot of layers already, their personal lives are more shown during canon and extra because of it, meanwhile Holm and Daya both keep to themselves much more and their personal lives are only hinted at in extras, they don't have drama on the regular in front of the rest of the party the way the others do lmao.

Conclusion

Kabru’s party is in a bit of a weird spot in the main story- I think we can agree they’re characters that feel largely forgotten by the story after a point, and don’t matter all that much. I do think they have a narrative purpose, but. It's all about Kabru and setting his character up, similarly to how Namari was to give Marcille growth and Toshiro was to give Laios growth, it offers us an early Kabru to compare middle and late Kabru with when it comes to relationships and alliances, and with how much they fail and the few scenes they have where Kabru has his mask on and even coldly rebutts Rin I think we're supposed to see the flaws in his way to lead and work in team, where Kabru changing on that end would be for the better. They're a window into Kabru's shortcomings in teamwork and social life, his status quo at the startof the story. Laios' team was as successful in the main story because they truly came together, became friends who revealed their authentic selves to be stronger even when they worked together and were all very different from one another- but what Kabru does is try to hide and compensate for flaws, especially his own, and he hides things from his party and he keeps himself at a distance from it. Laios wasn't all that different with his party pre-canon, but where in the emergency of current events Laios shed pretenses at the risk of being disliked and rejected by others, in early manga Kabru instead tightens his grip on trying to control the party- why Kabru pushes his party members into his plans with less and less care for their opinions with his rebuttal of Rin as the peak of that- until he even lowkey isn't all that motivated by his party members being hostages lol. Like- am I making sense??

Analyzing labru vs kabumisu interpretations of Kabru is honestly very interesting because the two ships' fans seem to often have a completely different take on him. Kabumisu fans tend to emphase on Kabru's need for agency and empowerment and labru fans tend to emphase on Kabru's need to learn to compromise and not taking everything upon himself only, and see like, both are true both are good, and which of the two ships you like more depends a lot on these subconscious little differences in interpretation you naturally develop I think, because while I'm a double agent I myself prefer labru a bit and I naturally lean towards the "Kabru has lessons and change to do" angle, where with kabumisu often the focus is on not Laios gaining understanding from another but Kabru gaining understanding from another. For Kabru to grow vs to be validated, for him to finally feel safe and comfortable, and that to be achieved either through growth or through comfort, though both through understanding one another. It's about trust it's about understanding others on your own terms vs theirs it's about how being willing to open up and delve in relationships makes your understanding of people better, truer!! Understanding others, debatably the biggest theme in Dunmeshi!! Anyways don't tell the fandom I said that

In the wider meta narrative- Dunmeshi has a big theme of conforming and fitting into society, all its main character have that as a big theme- Laios being a misfit, Marcille being a half-elf, Chilchuck being a half-foot in a bigoted society, Senshi being an exiled hermit, Izutsumi being a beastkin… The experiences are varied but it’s an universal theme, everyone has things they're ostracized for somewhere or other. And I think all of Kabru’s party have a facet, variance of that that’s interesting, one that’s less about social acceptance and finding your place like Laios’ party but has a bigger focus on economical struggle, Kabru and Rin are to put it very short powerless child refugees, Mickbell and Kuro are dirt poor, Daya was threatened to fit into a strict mold and Holm was put in jail for academic studies. They have codependent relationships and emotional unavailability all around in different ways, there's isolation as a theme there too. That also is largely a Dunmeshi theme. Does no one have a fucking healthy good thriving social life? A good work-personal life balance? Being in touch with yourown needs and feelings perhaps? The triforce of things you can never have all at once in dunmeshi. But all these similar yet different hardships, all these people with hard to pin down exteriors- it's all about understanding too. How can you judge without first understanding, you know?

They're doubtlessly minor characters, but they're also part of that large tapestry of diverse people that's needed for Dunmeshi to do what it does, thematically and narratively. For that final battle to have so many different people come together to fight on the side of humanity, for all its habitants for all the facets of people in it, together. "If even one thing had been missing, we wouldn't have gotten here" as Kabru puts it himself in the next-to-last chapter. This is Dungeon Meshi, everything is interwoven, it's all a web because our environment shapes us as much as we shape it.

They get sidelined by the story. much like they were by Kabru- but he does have their loyalty, like how Laios' party stuck together through it all, even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, and when it's time for the final battle they're there to help and it matters, they matter. Relationships, trust, goes both ways, it shouldn't be onesided. If someone proves genuine why not try opening up? Kabru's party always trusts him and show up when it matters- Because to put full trust in another is terrifying and risky, but sometimes it'll pay off, and still always they take that step to trust their leader. Trust and love and care isn't a transaction, earned or not, and all you can do is try to appreciate it and repay it in care. In the end Kabru's party reminds us of those things, that despite everything we all need someone.

#Dungeon meshi #Analysis #Meta #Mickrin #mickuro #Kurokabu #Kabrin #Clinging onto mithrun when they fell was a “do you prefer dying falling in with me or when you let go and I teleport you into the wall”#And that makes it so much more poetic man. Choosing to cling onto Mithrun- onto the key to pierce the dungeon's mysteries #Even if it's a longer shot. Even if it throws him right into the dangerous depths of this place he hates so much #Kabru inspiring Mithrun to live his life dedicated to work that'll help and keep others safe truly. Aughh #See!! What we can accomplish together!! The combined power of labru and kabumisu makes for a more complete arc 💥💥#I think the beauty of kbms is finding understanding easily within another once u open up and i think the beauty of labru is *growing*#to understand someone once u open up and working towards it slowly and finding it v rewarding- both which have seeds in canon imo.#ahh the rewards of opening up #My tastes mean i obvi go for the more character arcy confrontional labru more 🫶 but ya different faces same coin theme wise imo #Which makes sense. Since Kabru's arc centers around them n is well written. I really thought i wasn't gonna talk about kabru much 😭😭#I eventually wanna make an analysis entirely centered on Kabru's morality lmao. Maybe one dayyy #It's like w anything- now that it's been 2 years and kabru's grown more familiar 2 me i understand him more so he scares me less. Lol #Dunmesh lesson is we're better n stronger together rather than divided who'd have thunk. Human connection is the most valuable thing bwuh?!#Fumi Rambles #Labru #kabumisu #Maybe this is me doing the Laios dragon fan thing but I still would only call myself a casual Kabru fan. Even now in the throes of kurokabu #Gdbgd kurokabu may be the most 'third secret option' ship i've ever shipped. Best of both worlds though #Lots of kabru growth but also a very cozy comfortable relationship where understanding is suprisingly easily reached 😌#god I am in the codependent feels rn. writing this post making me go through all stages of grief!! ET SI TU CHERCHES ENCOREE MA VOIIIIX #Oublie-moi🥺 le pire c'est toi et moi... Mais ma meilleure ennemie c'est toi! Fuis-moi- Le pire c'est toi et moi. Je t'aime je te quittes #Frothing at the mouth. Insert art of werewolf ripping its shirt off THIS IS DOOOOONE #This is just so large i cannot hope to alone crack the code & tie everything up concisely this is the beast of me trying tho

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ptergwen · 4 months ago

Note

omg can you write a blurb where peter and the reader are in the stage of their relationship where they can't keep their hands of each other and keep leaving hickeys on each other and sexiling their roommates ? love your stuff <3

my place or yours?

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: 793

warnings: 18+!, smut (p in v), language

a/n: hehe one of my fave tropes, when everyone's fed up because they can't get enough of each other :D hope you enjoy! and friendly reminder to join my new taglist it's dead y'all lmao

you move your hips against peter's, rubbing yourself against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. you both make noises of content, lips and tongues intertwined. peter helps you take off your shirt and works on your bra next. you smile coyly from above him as his hands find your chest.

"when's harry gonna be back?"

peter's hands massage your breasts, eyes glazed over with lust.

"uh, i don't know... or care."

he leaves a trail of kisses going down between your breasts. you giggle and push his head back playfully.

"but what if he walks in again?"

"don't worry about it, i put a sock on the doorknob... just in case."

you ruffle peter's hair, dipping your head down so your faces are just inches apart.

"you're so extra, pete. you could've just texted him."

"i know, but i really wanted to piss him off this time."

"i feel kind of bad, though. we've been sexiling him a lot lately."

peter moves his hands down to your hips, guiding you forward so your clothed center presses against him. he gives you a cheeky smile.

"so next time we'll go to your dorm and sexile betty."

you scoff at peter and capture his lips in a kiss. he bucks his hips up, into you, needing you. you need him just as bad.

you can't seem to get enough of each other recently, so much so that you'll go at it anytime and anywhere. your friends aren't too happy about it. they either get kicked out of the room or banned from entering.

you and peter finish undressing each other, fast but somehow still not fast enough. in one swift motion peter flips you over and grabs your leg, lifting it up to his shoulder. his dark eyes lock with yours. you nod repeatedly, desperately. he pushes into you with ease, a moan instantly falling from his lips.

"fuck, baby."

you hum happily. peter keeps his hips still for a moment, lets himself fill you up and feel you wrapped around him. he takes the opportunity to connect your lips once again in a slow kiss. you smile into the kiss and curl your other leg around peter's waist, encouraging him to move. he pulls out of you just enough so he can thrust back in.

peter begins to find a rhythm as his cock thrusts into you again and again. he can tell it's one you like by the way you grab at his shoulders and let out soft moans. he holds your leg in place on his shoulder so he keeps hitting the right spot, at the right angle. you can feel yourself drip between your thighs from how bad you'd wanted him and how good he's fucking you.

"pete... feels so good, baby."

neither of you are making any effort to be quiet. peter presses his forehead to yours, hips moving at the same perfect pace. you take his face in either of your hands. you close your eyes and focus on the pleasure. peter brings a hand down to rub your clit, earning a gasp from you at the sudden intensified feeling. he chuckles at your reaction.

"you like that?"

"mm, you know i do."

"wanted to hear you say it anyway."

you groan at peter's cockiness, but god does it turn you on.

"of course you did."

peter continues stroking in and out of you as his middle and ring fingers circle your clit. you crane your neck so you can kiss across peter's jaw, his chin, then back to his lips, his tussled hair tickling your forehead. you give him a look, the look with the eyes that gets him every time.

"harder."

peter brings your other leg up to his shoulders, holding them both in place, starting to pound into you. he groans out a fuck. you arch your back and reach up, hands still cupping his cheeks. you're breathless and he's panting. you want more and more, as much of him as you can take, even more than that.

"oh my god, y/n. shit, baby."

"needed you so bad, pete."

"i’m all yours."

peter takes one of your hands and kisses your palm. you squeeze your intertwined hands, eyes fluttering closed in pure bliss.

the moment is interrupted when you two hear harry call from outside.

"again, parker? really?"

he bangs on the door for emphasis. peter stifles a laugh, continuing to thrust into you, making you have to stifle a moan.

"hey, man! respect the sock!"

"yeah. you're a real class act, you two."

you wait until harry leaves to join peter in a fit of giggles. you push some damp hair out of his face, scrunching up your nose.

"okay, yeah. my place next time."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety

#peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker writing #college!peter parker #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland writing

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urmum-lovesme · 4 months ago

Text

The Globe

pairing: Biker!Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

summary: Rafe and Y/n both work at ‘The Globe’, the best strip club on the island, known for their famous ‘globe of death’ performances. Although their relationship is meant to be strictly professional, they can’t seem to deny the tension that lingers between them one night after they perform…

a/n: So I saw these two videos on TikTok of these girls in the globe of death, and It had me thinking, that's so Rafe x Reader get out. Especially with all the screen time he gets in season 4 with his bike 😫. This is my first smut tho so please don't murder me.

Here's the Link to the Inspo! => 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

warnings: !SMUT! basically porn with a plot, reader is a stripper, reader is wearing barely any clothing, Strip club, dangerous motorcycle riding, the globe of death, pole dancing, aerial hoop dancing, reader is a tease, making out, nudity, oral sex (male receiving), spitting, hair pulling, handjob, fingering, dirty talk, begging, praise kink, dom!Rafe, p in v, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mentions of cum, degrading terms.

The hum of the club was already starting to build. Neon lights flickered along the walls, casting dim glows over the velvet-draped walls. In the dressing room, Yn sat at the mirror, applying the final touches of her makeup. She powdered her face carefully, making sure every detail was perfect. Her lips were a shade of pink, glossy and sparkling under the lights of her vanity, just the right amount of shine to catch attention. Her hot pink two piece clung to her skin, sure to attract eyes with the material clinging to her skin, pushing her tits up, which she brushed over with highlighter.

‘The Globe’ was legendary, not just for the flashing neon lights that beckoned to the island’s nightlife but for its reputation as the best in town. It had earned its fame not through ordinary striptease acts, but through its center stage: the Globe of Death, an enormous metal sphere. Inside, motorcycles roared, their tires skimming the metal walls whilst in the center of it all stood the performers—suspended in the air, spinning in a dance. The act was dangerous, thrilling, and hypnotic, drawing crowds from all over the island. Tonight, the club was packed, as it always was on a weekend. The pulsating beats of the music filled the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and sweat.

A sharp knock at the door broke Y/n’s focus.

Her hand hesitated, lipgloss in mid-air, she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Rafe.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she set the gloss applicator down against her lips carefully, her eyes still fixed on her reflection. She didn’t want him to know how much his presence affected her, even when she fought against it.

“Come in”

She said, her voice soft but clipped, betraying nothing. The door creaked open, and Rafe stepped inside. His silhouette was framed by the hallway lights, tall and confident. The leather jacket and body armour strapped to his chest made him appear every bit the part of the club’s star rider. His gaze flicked over her, lingering a moment too long, before he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Big night”

He asked, eyes lingering on her body, Yn met his gaze through the mirror, her expression neutral.

“As usual.”

But Rafe didn’t move. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, studying her in a way that made her pulse quicken. “You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone,

“Been thinking, maybe tonight, we take it a little further…”

Yn’s fingers gripped the makeup brush now in her hand pulling it back from her cheek, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She didn’t want to admit how much that suggestion stirred something deep inside her.

“Beyond the usual routine?”

She asked, her voice curious. Rafe appeared pleased at her interest, stepping closer, his arms folding.

“What’s the point of doing things the same every night, Yn? We both know we could make it more… exciting.”

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken meaning, and Yn’s breath caught in her throat. There it was again- the unrelenting tension between them. They both knew they wanted to push the boundaries, but neither one was ready to admit just how far they were willing to go. Yn arched her brow as she caught his reflection in the mirror, her lips pressing together as she placed the brush down onto the vanity. She expected him to talk, but the weight of his silence forced her to finally glance at him through the glass. Rafe’s arms were still crossed, his jacket straining over his biceps as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He let the moment stretch before finally speaking.

“I want you to start on the floor tonight.”

She paused as she blinked at his reflection, they’d never started with her on the floor before, she was always hung up on her hoop, body curved in tune with the music. She raised her brow.

“Start on the floor?”

His smirk grew as he took a step into the room, his voice calm but with an edge of challenge.

“In the cage on the floor. Before I start riding.”

Yn stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him through the mirror. He stayed rooted behind her now, his arms still crossed and his dark eyes locked on hers, unreadable and unrelenting. The tension in the small dressing room thickened, buzzing like static electricity.

Without a word, she turned in her seat, the plush hot pink fluff of the wide stool brushing against her thighs as she faced him fully. She had to look up at him, her fake lashes fluttering as her gaze traveled upward to meet his. Her head was level with his abs, and the faint scent of leather and motor oil clung to him, and she could smell his cologne mixing with the smell.

Her gaze dipped lower, catching the chunky, decorated belt buckle that drew her attention. Slowly, Yn raised her hand, her fingers brushing against the metal, tracing over the ‘R’ in its center before gliding her skin over the worn edges and grooves of the design. The act was deliberate, her touch light but intentional.

“And why do you think that’s a good idea?”

She asked softly, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. Rafe didn’t move, his smirk unwavering, he knew exactly what game she was playing, she’d been doing it for months now.

“Large crowd tonight, you on the floor while I circle around you will bring more money,” a shadow of a grin on his face as he continued, “I know you’d do anything for money- Sugar.”

His eyes looked down at her as he spoke, the name resting around her neck on a sparkling silver chain slipping past his lips. She tilted her head, her fingers lingering on the buckle as her lips curved into a faint smirk of her own.

“And what happens if your timing’s off?”

“My timing’s never off.”

He said, his voice low, almost a growl as he took a step closer, leaning slightly so she was almost eye-to-eye with him. Yn’s lips twitched upwards as her fingers drifted from the buckle to the belt loop just beside it. With deliberate slowness, she hooked her finger into it and tugged him closer, her gaze never leaving his. The move caught him off guard for only a second, but it was enough for her to notice the way his jaw tensed. Rafe shifted his weight slightly, and for the first time, his composure wavered. He licked his lips, a quick flick of his tongue that gave away more than he probably intended. She tilted her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked up at him, her finger still hooked in his belt loop.

“What if I say no?”

She asked, her voice was delicate, but Rafe’s eyes darkened, and for a moment he just stared at her, fighting against the urge to shove her back against the vanity. He ducked his head down slightly, closing the distance between them until their faces were mere inches apart as he shook his head at her and responded,

“You won’t”

He murmured, his voice smooth and confident. Yn’s breath hitched, her hand tightening ever so slightly on his belt loop. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, the intensity in them pinning her in place. Rafe’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now, as if the words were meant for her ears alone.

“You like the adrenaline.”

Her pulse quickened, and she hated that he could probably tell. Still, she didn’t let him see her falter. Instead, her lips curved into a small, defiant smile as she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I do”

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, but the sound of the distant crowd and loud blaring music- snapped them both back to reality. Rafe straightened slowly, eyes fluttering down from her eyes to her tits, the supple curve of her skin looking back up at him.

“They’re out there waiting. Don’t make me carry this show on my own.”

She let out a quiet breath as he made his way out of the dressing room. At the door frame, he paused, glancing back at her one last time, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze, before disappearing down the corridor; and although he was gone her heart was still racing.

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

The club was alive, pulsing with energy that seemed to seep into every corner of the massive space. The ‘Globe of Death’ stood proudly in the center, illuminated by beams of crimson and hot pink lights that swept across its surface. Surrounding it were glittering poles and platforms, alluring dancers twirling and spinning with practiced ease, their skin catching the light, sequined panties and bras shimmering in the caught light as the bass-heavy music vibrated through the air. The smoky artificial haze, added to the dreamlike quality of the club. Voices rose and fell, mingling with the pounding beat that seemed to sync with the pulse of the crowd. The multi-level layout gave every guest a perfect view of their choice, each floor something else, but all eyes were beginning to drift toward the center of the club, where the main event was about to begin.

Rafe was already inside the metal walls, perched on his well recognised motorcycle. He revved the engine, the low growl slicing through the music and catching the attention of those closest. He shifted slightly, his gaze scanning the room, searching for one person in particular.

Yn moved effortlessly through the crowd, her presence magnetic as she worked her way closer to the sphere. She was in her element, the teasing smiles, coy touches, and soft laughter flowing from her as naturally as the smoky haze that filled the air. A hand brushed her bare arm, and she turned, letting out a low, playful giggle as a man slipped a fifty dollar bill into the waistband of her panties. Her fingers grazed his wrist, lingering just long enough to keep him hooked, before she moved on, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as she made her way toward the edge of the crowd. She caught sight of the managers clustered near the DJ booth, signaling that everything was almost ready.

From his perch inside the globe, Rafe watched her. His hands tightened on the handlebars as his gaze tracked her every move, the way she charmed the crowd, her easy confidence making her the undeniable center of attention- even outside the spotlight.

His jaw clenched slightly as another man leaned in close, his hand brushing Yn’s skin as he tucked a bill under the strap of her bra. Yn responded with a smile, whispering something to the man, tipping her head back just enough to show off the delicate curve of her throat, the perfect image of playful seduction.

Rafe’s engine roared louder, the sound cutting through the club like a warning shot. A few heads turned toward the globe, and even Yn’s smile faltered for half a second as her gaze flicked toward him. Their eyes locked from across the room, and she tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. He was always prone to act out wherever she got too friendly with the customers.

The crowd was starting to gather closer, the lights above brightened, casting Rafe in sharp relief as he revved the bike once more, the sound vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. Yn moved closer, finally reaching the edge of the globe, her eyes still on him. She rested a hand on the steel cage, her lips parting slightly as she looked at Rafe.

The lights shifted, the rhythm of the music dipped, creating a hush that spread through the room, and then the manager’s voice boomed through the speakers, smooth and commanding. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, drawing out the words as the anticipation grew thicker,

“Tonight’s main event is one you don’t want to miss. So, put your hands together and make some noise for our best girl… our one and only- …Sugar!”

Rafe revved his engine, the growl of the bike perfectly timed to the announcement, and the room erupted into cheers and applause, whistles piercing the air as the bass dropped back into the music, pounding in time with the audience’s energy. Yn’s smile was dazzling, her confidence radiating as she stepped forward.

Rafe extended a hand toward her from inside the cage, his leather-clad arm steady as his dark eyes met hers. She placed her hand in his, her fingers delicate against his rough, calloused palm, and she climbed over the edge, stepping gracefully into the globe.

Inside the cage, the two of them stood just feet apart, the tension between them palpable, even with the steel separating them from the audience. Rafe’s hand lingered on hers for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, giving her a nod as if to say, you ready?

Yn returned the look with a sly smile, her lashes fluttering as she took her place in the center of the globe. The spotlight shifted again, casting her in a halo of light as the heavy doors of the cage clanged shut with a resounding finality, locking Yn and Rafe inside. Above them, the metal ceiling whirred, and a hot pink hoop began to descend slowly, its polished surface catching the light and glinting. It hovered just above Yn, swaying slightly as if beckoning her to take her place.

She glanced at Rafe, her heart pounding, though her expression remained unreadable. His helmet was on, the reflective visor obscuring his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was watching her, but she felt his focus nonetheless, a magnetic pull that seemed to reach her even across the enclosed space. Yn hesitated, her gaze flickering between the hoop and the man across from her. Start on the floor, his earlier words echoed in her mind, daring her, taunting her.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile.

She turned her head toward the operator controlling the hoop, her movements smooth and confident. She raised her hand, giving a small, deliberate signal. The operator nodded, and the hoop rose just a bit higher, clearing the space around her but staying within reach.

When she turned back, Rafes head was already faced in her direction, the bike idling beneath him as he leaned forward slightly, his gloved hands steady on the handlebars. Even with his helmet hiding his face, she could feel the unspoken approval vibrating in the air between them. Yn’s smile deepened as she stepped into the center of the globe, her head tilting ever so slightly in Rafe’s direction.

The first notes of the song blasted through the speakers, the heavy bassline reverberating in the air and signaling the start of their routine. Yn’s body reacted immediately, the familiar rush of adrenaline sparking to life and coursing through her veins. Her hips began to sway in perfect rhythm with the beat, each movement fluid and hypnotic. Her hands slid down her sides, over the curve of her hips, and back up to her waist, brushing up against her tits, pushing them up slightly; every motion deliberate.

Behind her, Rafe’s bike roared to life, the sound cutting through the music like a blade. He shifted into gear, the bike lurching forward before gliding smoothly into motion. The crowd watched intently as he began circling her, the steel walls of the cage echoing with the sound of his tires and engine. Yn stayed in the center, unshaken by the vibration of the bike under her feet as Rafe rode closer, the rush of air brushing against her skin with each pass.

And then, without warning, she felt it.

A gloved hand slid against her waist, the touch firm yet fleeting as Rafe’s bike roared past her. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her movements faltered- just for a heartbeat- before she caught herself and fell back into the rhythm of the music, hands raising above her head, giving him more access to her skin. He came around again, and this time his hand brushed against the curve of her stomach, it was subtle, yet it sent a shiver racing down her spine.

He’d never done this before, never reached out mid-performance.

Yn felt it- felt the deliberate nature of it, the way it made the air between them crackle with a charge that wasn’t part of the show.

As Rafe continued his path, his hand skimmed her again and again, following the circular motion of his bike as if he were tracing invisible lines around her body. Yn didn’t dare look at him, but she could feel the weight of his focus, the intensity of his presence wrapping around her like the walls of the globe.

Yn extended her arms up, fingers brushing the polished surface before gripping it firmly. Her muscles tensed as she lifted herself, her body moving with practiced grace as she adjusted her position. The crowd cheered as the hoop began to rise, lifting her higher into the globe’s confines.

For a moment, she hung motionless, her body suspended, on display like a jewel in the center of the cage. One hand released the hoop, leaving her to dangle precariously as the audience gasped. Then, with fluid precision, she transitioned into a two-handed grip, her body curling and stretching as she performed a series of intricate, mesmerizing movements. The music pulsed, growing louder as the beat synced with the rhythm of the performance. As Yn spun herself around the hoop, her body arched in perfect symmetry, she felt the sudden, firm touch of Rafe’s hand on her calf. With his guidance, she spun in sync with his path, her body following the momentum he created. Her legs extended gracefully as he moved her, the interplay of the bike’s roar and her ethereal movements creating a performance that had the crowd watching at the edge of their seats.

The routine builds to its climax, Rafe’s bike roaring beneath him as he veers sharply, taking the cage’s vertical walls with an almost reckless abandon. The crowd holds their breath as he pushes his bike into a full arc, his wheels now nearly inverted. Yn, suspended in the air, watches as Rafe defies gravity. Her heart races, the adrenaline coursing through her, matching the beat of the music as she curves her body. The two of them are in perfect sync, finishing the routine with a breathtaking drop as Yn lands lightly on her feet, breathless but exhilarated.

The crowd explodes into applause, the cheers echoing as the music fades out.

Rafe’s helmeted face glimmers in the light, and Yn’s chest rises and falls with the rush of the performance. The doors to the Globe of Death creaked open slowly, revealing the dim lights of the club beyond, their flickering glow casting long shadows on the floor. The roar of the bike’s engine faded, leaving only the sound of heavy breaths and the buzzing crowd.

Rafe, still behind Yn, moved with purpose as he pulled his helmet off, his hand brushing his buzzed hair. He watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath, her body decorated with a slight sheen of sweat from the performance, which made him want to lean forward and lick it off her skin. She was still catching her breath, her body pulsing with the aftermath of the rush.

Without warning, Rafe’s hand landed lightly on the back of her upper thigh, his fingers lingered for a moment, and though his voice was hushed, it carried a weight that only she could hear.

“Atta girl”

He murmured softly to her. Yn looked back at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were locked onto hers with an intensity that was felt even beneath the helmet. The chemistry between them flared, the feeling of his hand against her skin, warm and steady, sent a thrill through her, deepening the connection they shared.

Rafe’s gaze flickered down to Yn’s lips for a brief moment, the suggestion behind the look undeniable. Yn felt the shift in the air, the unspoken desire hanging between them, and she couldn’t help but notice. But just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she looked away, the reality of their setting grounding her back to the present.

They were still at work, after all…

She made her way out of the cage, her heels clicking against the metal floor, her body still pulsing with the adrenaline of the performance. Rafe followed close behind, his steps steady but purposeful, his eyes drifting down to the way her ass looked in her pretty pink panties.

Yn didn’t walk through the crowd this time. Instead, she moved up onto the small dancing platform situated in front of the globe, a familiar spot for her after a performance. The stage was raised just enough to give the crowd a better view, and as she stepped up, the patrons eagerly threw bills at her, their hands reaching out to add to the chaos.

The money rained down, some landing on her body, others falling to the floor of the stage, but it didn’t matter. The customers loved it- their eagerness evident.

From by the cage, Rafe stood, watching as the money cascaded around her. His gaze didn’t leave her for a moment, the scene unfolding like a dance with Yn at the center. His eyes followed each piece of cash as it landed, but they always returned to her, lingering in a way that felt almost possessive.

Yn slowly circled around the pole, hips grinding against it as her fingers glided along the smooth cold metal, moving with practiced grace. Her eyes flickered to Rafe, and she glanced over her shoulder, the teasing glint in her gaze matching the sensuality of her movements. She gently bit her lower lip, a playful challenge in the way she held his gaze.

Rafe’s reaction was instant. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darkening as he followed her every move. His stare didn’t waver, but there was a moment of almost painful restraint in him as he watched her. The tension between them hung thick in the air, both of them aware of the silent exchange.

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

After the performance, Yn made her way back to her dressing room. The sound of the music faded as she closed the door behind her, the silence settling slightly, her body still humming with adrenaline, the heat of the performance lingering on her skin. She quickly made her way to the vanity, taking in a deep breath as she sat down. The reflection in the mirror was a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction- her makeup slightly smudged from the sweat, but the glow in her eyes remained.

Before she did anything else, she reached down and pulled the money from the waistband of her panties and the straps of her bra, gathering the bills into the small basket she kept for such moments. As she wiped the sweat off the back of her neck and touched up her makeup, her thoughts kept drifting back to Rafe- the way his eyes had followed her…

Yn was changing her heels, the soft rustle of fabric and the click of the shoes as she slipped them off and reached for another pair. Then the door opened, and she didn’t immediately look up, assuming it was one of the other dancers but when the door clicked shut softly, she turned her head, confused by the silence that followed.

There, standing in the doorway, was Rafe.

He’d closed the door behind him and was now leaning against the frame, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable, as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. Yn pressed her lips together, fighting the smile threatening to break through. There was something about the way Rafe stood there, calm and composed, that made her want to tease him.

Barefoot, she held her shoes loosely in one hand, her perfectly manicured toes pressing against the cool cement floor. She slowly straightened up, her movements deliberate as she let her gaze move up to meet his. With a slight tilt of her head, she locked eyes with him, Yn couldn’t resist teasing him. With a small, knowing smile, she turned and gracefully made her way to her fluffy stool, sitting down slowly. Her eyes never left his as she leaned back slightly, resting her arms against the vanity behind her. The soft, cushiony fabric of the stool seemed to accentuate the way her posture shifted, back arching, pushing her chest forward- relaxed but with an undeniable air of confidence.

Rafe watched her every move, the space between them growing thicker with the weight of the tension. He took a few steps toward her, his gaze locked on hers, when he finally reached her, he looked down, his expression unreadable for a moment. Yn met his eyes, her sight flickering to his lips before returning to his eyes. She didn’t move, watching him closely as his hand reached out, coming to rest under her chin. He gently lifted her head, encouraging her to tilt her head upward just slightly.

The touch of his hand was like a spark, making her pulse quicken.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, slow and deliberate as he tugged it down slightly. Yn held her breath, her lips parting ever so slightly as his thumb traced the delicate curve. The tension now suffocating as Rafe licked his own lips, his eyes darkening just a fraction as he held her gaze, every movement charged with anticipation. Rafe’s thumb lingered on her lower lip, for a heartbeat, neither of them moved, both caught in the weight of the charged silence. Yn’s breath hitches slightly, as Rafe’s lips part, and his voice comes out low, like a challenge.

“You know you want this”

He murmured, just barely audible, his breath warm against her skin. He leaned in as if to say something more, but at the last second, he held back, his eyes waiting, letting her decide.

Yn’s pulse quickens, she could pull away, play coy, act like nothing’s going on. Or, she could lean into this- let the magnetic pull between them take over. She smirks slightly, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Slowly, she reaches up, her fingers brushing against his hand that’s still resting at her chin. She lets her fingers trace lightly over his knuckles, teasing, deliberately slow, savoring the moment. Then, as if unable to stop herself, she brushes her lips against his thumb again- just barely, enough to make him feel it.

He’s on the edge, and she knows it.

Yet she doesn’t pull away; instead, she leans in just a little closer, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. Without warning, she catches his thumb between her teeth, biting down gently, tongue flicking over the tip of his skin.

Rafe freezes for a moment, his entire body tense, the spark of frustration and desire mixing in his chest, the playful bite- the teasing gesture- riles him up more than he cares to admit. His grip tightens on her chin, eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and hunger.

Yn stays seated, inches away from him, and she can feel the heat radiating off Rafe as he hovers in front of her. Slowly, she runs her hand up from his abs, feeling the muscles tighten under her touch, before slipping her fingers under the collar of his black t-shirt.

She hooks her finger into it and pulls him closer, her eyes never leaving his.

Rafe is practically leaning over her now, his other hand coming to rest on the vanity behind her, bracing himself as he leans down. The space between them is practically nonexistent- his face only inches from hers. She watches the way his pupils dilate, the tension in his jaw. Yn lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, the only sound between them their labored breathing. Then, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper but still charged with challenge, she speaks.

“It’s all yours if you want me… ”

The invitation hangs in the air and she watches him closely, her lips parted, waiting for him to make the move.

Rafe can’t take it anymore. His breath catches as he leans down, closing the space between them. His lips crash into hers, hungry and fierce, pulling her into a kiss that’s been building for far too long. She leans back against the table of the vanity, giving into the kiss, letting him take the lead, both of them finally surrendering to the moment they’ve both been fighting to resist.

As Rafe pulls her in, Yn’s hand slides up from his chest, her fingers trailing along the rough fabric of his t-shirt before curling around the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch. She pulls him closer, her fingers brushing over the back of his hair, her thumb gently grazing the side of his neck as their lips meet in a wet, desperate kiss.

Her other hand, now free, moves to his cheek, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension there as he deepens the kiss. His breath mingles with hers, and she can taste the urgency in his movements, both of them finally giving in to the magnetic pull.

Rafe’s hand moves from the vanity to her chin, his thumb brushing over her lower lip before sliding down her neck. He lets his fingers drift along the curve of her jaw, palm sliding over her collarbone, before finally resting at her waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling her closer as he leans in, his body pressing against hers in a way that makes her heart race even faster.

The space between them shrinks with each passing second, and before long, she’s tilted her head back slightly, her body melting into the kiss. Her legs instinctively move, wrapping around his waist, drawing him in closer as their bodies press together with a newfound urgency. Her fingers still hold his neck, feeling the weight of him on top of her, his hands sliding to her hip now, slyly moving down to her ass as he grabs it roughly. His lips are everywhere, trailing down her neck, before coming back to her mouth, making her feel dizzy.

As the kiss breaks for just a moment, Yn’s hands move urgently to Rafe’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders; she can feel the tension in his body, the tautness of his sleeves pulling against his defined arms as he shrugs it off. Her hands move instinctively, running over his arms, feeling the strength beneath her fingertips. Her grip tightens on his biceps, pulling him closer, she can feel his muscles flex under her touch, and it’s too much to resist. She shifts slightly, her legs still wrapped around him, as she breathes heavily, eye-lids heavy, her pupils blown wide with desire.

She pulls back from his kiss, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and looks up at him through a haze of longing. Her fingers trail down his arms slowly, inching their way to the hem of his t-shirt. She hooks her fingers underneath it, running them along the ridges of his abs, her breath catching in her throat as she feels the heat of his body beneath her touch. She locks eyes with him, her voice a husky whisper as she says,

“Take it off.”

The words hang in the air, charged with anticipation, as she waits for him to respond. Rafe’s breath hitches at her words, and with a quiet, almost possessive growl, he pulls back from her slightly. The fabric clings briefly to his skin, and as he quickly pulls it over his head, his toned, muscular frame is revealed.

“This what you want Sugar?”

His chest is broad and defined, the muscles sculpted beneath smooth skin, with deep lines of tension running down to his abs. Every inch of him is hardened with muscle, from his solid biceps to the sculpted lines of his abdomen. The soft light from the vanity reflects off his skin, highlighting the curve of his shoulders and the strong, defined V of his waist.

Before Y/n can stop herself, her fingers are reaching out, brushing against the hard planes of his chest. The touch is tentative at first, like a spark igniting, and her fingers trace the lines of muscle along his shoulder, moving down slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

Rafe’s pulse quickens, and he watches her with hooded eyes, noticing the way her fingers linger on his skin, exploring. Yn shifts, sitting up slowly, her body moving with a deliberate grace. She positions herself closer to him, her eyes locked with his, dark with desire, and her breath hitches as she moves forward, now inches away from his bare torso.

With a teasing glint in her eyes, she leans in, her lips brushing lightly against his abs. The touch is slow and deliberate, a soft kiss against skin, sending a ripple of heat through both of them. Her lips linger just long enough for him to feel the warmth, before she pulls back, her gaze still fixed on him, waiting for his reaction.

The simple gesture sends a shockwave of desire through Rafe. He watched her, his breath shallow, heart racing, his jeans were so tight against his cock it was becoming painful. Yn shifts forward again, a bit closer this time, her lips curving into a teasing smile. She doesn’t rush, taking her time as her gaze flickers between his eyes and the hard planes of his torso. Her fingers graze over his skin, and without breaking their eye contact, she presses another kiss, this time a little lower, just below his navel.

She pulls back slightly, letting the tension build before she leans in again, planting a few soft, lingering kisses along his abs, her lips moving slowly, reverently. Each kiss is deliberate, as though she’s savoring the moment, every inch of his body. Her breath is warm against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her hands rest lightly on his sides, her fingers curling into his muscles as she continues, her lips brushing against his skin with a soft, teasing rhythm.

Rafe, unable to control himself any longer, reaches out his hand, threading through her hair and gently gripping the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. The sensation of her lips against his skin, is making him lose his mind. He groans softly as his fingers tighten in her hair, urging her to keep going, his body leaning in toward her with a need he can no longer ignore.

As Yn continues pressing soft kisses against Rafe’s abs, her hands move slowly, trailing from his sides to the front of his pants. Her fingers brush over the edges of his waistband before they find the chunky belt buckle, the metal cool under her fingertips. She runs her fingers along the indents and details of the design, feeling the strength and texture of it. She leans back slightly, her eyes now locked onto the buckle as her hands toy with it, slowly flicking it with a teasing, deliberate touch. The tension in the room thickens as Rafe watches her with a deep intensity, his hand still holding her head close, his grip tightening as she continues to play with him.

With a slow, steady movement, Yn pulls at the buckle, glancing up at him through her fluttering lashes, her gaze daring to push him over the edge. The heat between them simmers just beneath the surface, every touch, every movement. Yn’s fingers brush over the buckle again, this time more deliberately. She feels the cool metal beneath her touch as she works it loose, unfastening it with a slow, steady motion.

The sound of the buckle clicking open echoes in the silence of the room, and for a brief moment, there’s a pause - the anticipation hangs heavy in the air.

Rafe’s body goes rigid for a split second as he watches her. His hand tightens in her hair, a silent warning, but the way his gaze darkens only heightens the heat between them. He leans in closer, but he doesn’t move, not yet. His eyes flicker between her hands and her face, his jaw tight with restraint.

Yn slowly slides her hand away from the belt, meeting his gaze with a challenge of her own. She smirks slightly, her lips brushing over the edge of the buckle as she pulls her hand back. The act of unbuckling it and then teasing him, is enough to make Rafe’s resolve crack, his hand moving from her head to cup her face, roughly pulling her chin up to look at him grunting out,

“Get on your knees.”

As Rafe holds her face with his hand, Yn shifts slightly, siding off the stool and moving onto her knees, the cold floor cooling her burning skin. She’s eye-level with the bulge in his jeans, and the sight makes her squeeze her thighs together in an urge to relieve the ache between them. She looks up at him, her eyes half-lidded, watching the flicker of restraint in his expression faltering. Rafe’s hand stays on her face, his thumb brushing along her jawline as he continues,

“Take them off.”

She reaches for his belt buckle again, teasing him with her fingertips, but this time, her motions are more deliberate as she moves further, unbuckling it fully. Her fingers pop open the button and draw down the zip, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans and pulling them down, leaving him in his black brief, the material tight over the outline of his hard cock. Rafe’s breath hitches at the movement, but he doesn’t pull her closer. Instead, his hand tightens on her chin, lifting her gaze back up to him. The way she’s kneeling, her body drawn closer to his, causes his voice to drop lower, now edged with more command than it was before.

“You gonna behave for me Sugar?”

Y/n bit her lip as she tilted her head up to look up at him, hand coming up to press his hard on over the material of his briefs, Rafe let out a low moan at her movements, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Losing patience he roughly grabbed Y/n’s chin as he leaned down towards her,

“You want my cock baby?”

She hummed back in response nodding her head, bottom lip still caught between her teeth, he pulled her head up closer to him, tone harsher,

“Use your words”

“Yes”

“What?”

“Yes please”

Y/n could feel the arousal dampening the material of her panties. She was sure if he told her to take them off, he’d see the way the wetness made them stick to her pussy. Rafe let out a hum of satisfaction as he tugged down at her bottom lip again, thumb slipping between her teeth pressing her tongue down, prompting her to open her mouth. The girl complied, mouth slackening instinctively for him. He leaned down closer, eyes locked onto hers, as he spit into her mouth, the girl letting out a whimper as his spit hit her tongue.

“Yes please what”

“Yes please Rafe”

“Good girl”

He grunted, standing straighter as his grip on her chin dropped, letting her move towards him. Her hands slid up from where they rested on his upper thighs, slipping between his skin and the elastic of his briefs, pulling the material down and letting his hard cock free against his lower stomach. She shuffled closer to him, knees sore from the hard floor, but she didn’t care, she was too turned on to pay attention to things that weren’t his cock in her mouth.

His hand brushed some of her hair out of her face as her hand wrapped around his length, moving up and down slowly; causing Rafe to let out a breath. She leant forward, licking a stripe up from the base to the top of his cock, tongue swirling around his sensitive tip, evoking a low groan from him. She spat on his length, hand working the slick up and down, the wet sounds, along with their heavy breathing filled the room. She tapped the tip against her lips, Rafe’s hooded eyes watching her every move as she rested him against her tongue, lips wrapping around his cock, hollowing her cheeks as she moved down his length. He jerked his hips forward at the feeling moaning out huskily,

“-Fuck”

She hungrily worked at him, gags passing her lips as he rutted into her occasionally, struggling to hold back as he let out deep moans, her warm, wet mouth ever so inviting. Beads of precum leaked from his slit, and Y/n lapped them up eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she savoured the warm, salty taste.

“Such a fucking slut… shit-”

He bit back a moan as he suddenly gripped her hair, pulling her back and muttered harshly,

“Get up”

She rose on shaky legs, standing in front of Rafe as his hands slid down to her thighs, unexpectedly lifting her up effortlessly, causing her to steady herself on his shoulders. He moved towards the leather sofa in the corner of the room, placing her down onto it, the material of the blanket below her soft on her skin.

“Rafe-”

She whimpered out her thighs squeezing together, she was so aroused now her panties were completely soaked, the material sticking to her needy pussy. His hands pressed against her skin, sliding up from her calves to her knees, where he spread her legs open for him, her back arching up slightly as the feeling of the cool air between her thighs. He tutted as he guided his hands further up her body, fingers snapping the waistband of her panties against her hip, causing her breath to hitch,

“Please”

He slowly pulled them down her legs, a string of her slick connecting her pussy to the material, causing him to groan out,

“Fuck- look at her baby, so needy for me hmm?”

Rafe bunched the panties in his hand, shoving them onto the couch as he leaned down to her, littering wet sloppy kisses over her neck, the girls hand coming out to grip at his bicep as she lifted her hips up to meet his, letting out a soft moan at the friction. He pulled back from her, immediately pushing her hips down, hand firmly over her stomach,

“Good girls wait Y/n”

She shook her head as she whined out, hands grabbing at his shoulders trying to pull him closer, but his firm frame stayed motionless.

“Don’t tease…”

He shook his head, a smirk slipping onto his face as he looked at the desperate girl, her usual confidence now gone. This time however, his hand fluttered over her inner thigh, causing her to bite harshly at her lower lip.

“How bad do you want me?”

He mocked as his hand slid up further, brushing faintly over her aroused pussy causing her to mewl out,

“So- so bad.”

“Yeah?” He asked, satisfied glint in his eye as he watched the girl trembling beneath him, “Beg me then.”

Her eyes looked to him, staying silent

“No?”

He questioned, she could feel his body heat against hers and it was driving her insane. The hand which she rested against the couch, now clenched the blanket she layed on tightly in her grip.

“So I guess I won’t touch your pussy then-”

He started pulling his hand away, sitting up slightly, causing her to snap,

“No!- no please… please touch me Rafe I’m so wet for you please… - need you so bad baby, need your cock so bad.”

At this point she didn’t care about the humiliation of the brainless rambles passing her lips, she was so horny that all she wanted was a release from the agonising ache between her thighs. He couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from creeping into his face as he pressed his mouth against hers and running his tongue over her bottom lip. Y/n’s breathing picked up at the action but hitched as she felt his thumb press steady circles against her clit, causing her to moan loudly into his mouth in relief, back arching at the newfound sense of pleasure.

“So sensitive”

He mumbled against her lips, the words barely audible, a low husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He pulled away, his breath mingling with hers, their closeness still electrifying, and Y/n panted heavily, struggling to keep her composure. With a high pitched moan, she felt her nails dig into his bicep instinctively,

“More”

“Ask nicely”

“More please Rafe”

“Whatever you want Sugar”

Y/n’s mouth dropped open into a silent ‘o’ as Rafe teased her weeping hole, before slipping his finger in effortlessly due to the wetness now dripping into the blanket below her.

“Fuckkkk- so ready for me hmm?”

She threw her head back with a desperate gasp as he pumped two fingers into her, curling them slightly, the girl's hips rising to match Rafe’s movements. Her mind was becoming fuzzy and all she could focus on was the slowly building knot in her stomach. Rafe could feel her clenching around his fingers as he leant down, breath brushing against her ear,

“Feel good sugar? You like it when your coworker makes your pussy feel good in the back of the club”

Her loud moan cut him off,

“Fuck! Rafe please- I’m gonna cum”

He pulled back all together, causing her brows to furrow as her eyes flickered open from where they’d shut second ago. She was met with the image of Rafe with his fingers by his lips, tongue coming out to lick over the arousal covering his slender digits, causing her to swallow hard, she felt like she was going dumb from how badly she needed him.

“Rafe”

“I know, I know, gonna make this pussy feel so good”

He spoke out heatedly as he pushed himself forward between her thighs, lining his cock up with her hole. Rafe eyes flickered up to Y/n, from where they were gazing at his heavy dick resting against her throbbing pussy: and she was already looking directly at him, eyes glossy with desire. His hand rested on her thigh, thumb rubbing small circles against her skin as he pushed his tip into her, causing her to let out a breathless moan. He teased her pulling out slightly, causing her to babble out,

“No please- I can’t-“

He shushed her as he languidly slid his hips forward, filling her up with his length. She moaned out, walls fluttering against him as her arms came up, wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging into his back, frantically pulling him closer to her, causing him to let out a grunt.

“You like that?”

He groaned out voice deep as he thrusted his hips against her at a fast pace, the sound of their skin slapping and Y/n’s high pitched wines and breathless moans echoing in the dressing room.

“Yes yes yes-”

The words mindlessly passed her lips as she dragged her nails down his back, drowning in the hypnotising pleasure of him rutting against her. Rafe shifted slightly, hand pressed against the sofa supporting himself as the other moved down to the girl's collar bones, grazing over them before his fingers slipped around her neck, squeezing slightly. Y/n’s back arched up in response, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Such a dirty fucking slut”

He spat out at her as he relentlessly snapped his hips against her. Her hand shakily reached up, gripping into Rafes wrist, as she looked up to him, mouth falling open in pleasure again.

“Fucking say it”

He grunted as his grip around her neck tightened slightly, causing her walls to tighten against his cock, she could feel her high building and she choked out to him,

“I’m a fucking slut”

“Yeah you are”

He groaned as his hips stuttered slightly, his jaw clenching. Rafe let go of Y/n’s throat, hand moving down between their hot and sweaty bodies to rub at her sensitive clit, the girl jolting at the feeling causing her walls to clamp around him again, she was moaning relentlessly now, loud gasps of his names passing her lips as she chanted them like a prayer.

“Fuck”

He let out a long low whine as he continued to rock his hips into her, his pace faltering as he felt the heat in his stomach rising.

“Rafe- Rafe- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum-”

She cried out, hands clawing at his skin, digging into his bicep, sliding down his chest, dragging down his back. He knew he was going to have red angrily lines littered over his skin tomorrow but he didn’t seem to care, the knowledge that everyone would know it was her who had marked him up only aroused him more.

“Give it to me Sugar, fucking soak my cock in your pretty juices”

His words caused her to topple over the edge, her body melting into Rafe’s as she threw her head back, mouth open in a silent moan as waves of pleasure caused her vision to blur slightly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been fucked so good, her limbs felt like jelly. Rafes grunts turned into pants as he moaned into the crook of her neck,

“Fuck baby”

His hips stilled, his cock pulsing inside Y/n’s pussy, hot seed leaking into her tight walls. She whined out at the feeling, legs still firmly wrapped around him, keeping him in place as they worked through their highs.

The room was now filled with nothing but their heavy breaths, Rafe pulled back slightly, slipping his dick from her warm walls, his eyes flickering down to her pussy as he watched some of his cum dribble out of her hole onto the blanket below, causing him to let out a small hum. His hand reached up, resting on the girl's thigh as his thumb circled her skin again, however this time it was not teasing.

“You okay?”

She nodded her head to him as her hand came up, to run over his chest, fingers trailing down his skin to his bicep, where angry red lines had already started to appear. She couldn’t deny that the image of him marked up by her nails was bringing her a sense of satisfaction. However she brushed that aside as she spoke out,

“I hope nobody heard us”

He looked down as her an amused smirk on his face as he responded,

“I don’t know if they heard me… but they definitely heard you.”

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tokkiwrites · 4 months ago

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game show host!joel miller x contestant f! reader ▪︎summary: it's the late 1970s, and you're fresh out of college. for your graduation gift, your parents got you a special ticket to be part of your favorite game show, 'Love Jive'. They didn't know you didn't like the show itselfㅡ but it's smooth talking MC, Joel Miller. ▪︎tags: pwp, age gap (pretty hefty one), super flirty joel, shy/lovestruck reader, afab!reader, pet names galore!!, p in v (unprotected), mirror sex kind of, slight breeding kink, creampie, joel kind of has an innocence kink idk.

▪︎this has been sitting in my drafts for two months now. Hopefully, you enjoy this short and silly 2.45k words one. There is no plot for it honestly, just thought it would be a cute concept. maybe a series might come from it. Who knows? anyway!!! love ya!!

It was the summer of 1979, and the air felt heavy with possibility. You were fresh out of college, diploma in hand, and ready to take on the world—or at least that’s what you told yourself when your parents asked what came next.

Their graduation gift to you? A surprise ticket to Love Jive, the hottest game show on TV. You’d tried to hide your awkward smile when they handed it over, the envelope sparkling with glitter that matched the show’s logo. What they didn’t know was that it wasn’t the show’s ridiculous premise that had you tuning in every week.

It was him.

Joel Miller.

The man was a legend, smooth as honey and twice as sweet. The way his Texan drawl slid over those ridiculous love-related catchphrases? You swore it had ruined you for men your own age. He had to be at least twenty years older than you, but that salt-and-pepper hair, that sly smile, those broad shoulders stretching under his velvet blazer? They didn’t make men like Joel Miller anymore.

So here you were, standing nervously behind the curtain in the Love Jive studio.

“Contestants, ready?” a stagehand called.

Your stomach did a flip as the warm-up announcer's voice boomed through the speakers. The audience clapped and cheered, the excitement infectious. Before you could second-guess yourself, the curtain lifted, and the stage lights bathed you in gold.

And there he was.

Joel Miller stood center stage, microphone in hand, looking like he owned the room— and maybe he did. That million-watt smile lit up his face, his dark eyes sweeping the contestants before landing on you. He did a double take so subtle you almost missed it, but when his smile softened just a fraction, your heart skipped a beat.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” His voice rolled through the air like warm molasses, drawing chuckles from the crowd. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves some fine contestants tonight. Y’all ready to find love and maybe a little bit of fun?”

The audience erupted in cheers, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to join them. Not when Joel Miller was staring at you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“And what’s your name, darlin’?” Joel asked, pointing the microphone toward you.

You blinked, mouth suddenly dry. “Uh—uh, it’s—” You blurted out your name, voice cracking slightly. Joel chuckled, low and smooth, his dimples deepening as he grinned. “Well now, ain’t you just the sweetest thing. Y’all hear that? Even her name’s cute as a button.”

The crowd ooh’d and ahh’d, but Joel’s gaze stayed locked on you.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning ever so slightly closer, “what brings a lovely little thing like you to Love Jive? Lookin’ for romance? Or just here for the spectacle?” Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you prayed the lights were too bright for anyone to notice. “Um, I—I guess you could say both?”

Joel’s eyebrows lifted, and his grin turned downright wicked. “Both, huh? Well, darlin’, I can promise you this much—you’re in for one hell of a show.” The crowd roared their approval as Joel winked at you, leaving your heart thundering in your chest. You’d come to Love Jive expecting to admire Joel Miller from afar. You hadn’t counted on becoming the center of his attention.

And as the game began, one thing became crystal clear: Joel wasn’t just hosting tonight. He was playing a game of his own— and you were the prize he had his sights set on.

Fast forward to the 15-minute commercial break.

The knock on the door came firmly, pulling you out of your flustered thoughts. You glanced at the mirror, smoothing down your blouse and trying to will away the redness on your cheeks. “Come in,” you called out, voice trembling slightly.

The door creaked open, and in stepped Joel Miller, the man of all your desires.

The sight of him so close took your breath away. He leaned casually against the doorframe for a moment, his dark eyes settling on you. His smile, warm and teasing, was the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Well, there you are,” he drawled, his voice like velvet. “Thought I’d come check on you, see how my favorite contestant’s holdin’ up.” You blinked, trying to find your voice. “Oh, uh—fine! I’m fine,” you stammered, your hands twisting nervously.

Joel stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The dressing room wasn’t large to begin with, and his presence filled it completely, making the space feel even smaller.

“Fine, huh?” he said, leaning against the vanity, his arms crossing casually over his chest. “Can’t blame you for bein’ a little flustered. All those lights, all those people… and me.” His grin turned teasing, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest moment. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. “It’s not—I mean, you’re not—”

“Sweetheart, relax,” Joel interrupted, his voice a low chuckle. “I’m just messin’ with you.” His eyes softened, and he tilted his head. “But if I’m bein’ honest, you’ve got somethin’ about you. That’s got me wonderin’ if maybe I’m the one a little flustered tonight.”

Your heart skipped at his words. “Me?” you asked, disbelief clear in your voice. Joel’s grin deepened, his dimples on full display. “Yeah, you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. He stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Pretty little thing like you walkin’ in here, lookin’ all sweet and innocent, got every man in the audience wishin’ he was sittin' in my shoes tonight.” You felt like your face might catch fire. “I don’t think that’s true,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel reached out, gently lifting your chin so you had no choice but to look at him. His hand was warm and firm, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Well, I do,” he said softly, his dark eyes holding yours. “And I don’t say things I don’t mean, sweet girl."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “I was thinkin’... maybe once this show wraps up, you and I could get outta here. Go somewhere quiet. Just you and me.” Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you felt dizzy under his gaze. “You mean… like a date?”

Joel chuckled, the sound rich and deep. “Exactly like a date,” he murmured. “What do you say, sweetheart?” You nodded before you could overthink it, your shy smile breaking free. “I’d really like that.” Joel’s grin turned downright wicked. “Good,” he drawled, his hand sliding to cradle your cheek. “’Cause I’ve been dyin’ to do this all night.”

Before you could say another word, Joel leaned in and kissed you. His lips were warm and sure, moving against yours with a perfect mix of confidence and tenderness. You felt your hands instinctively grip the vanity behind you, your knees going weak as his other hand settled lightly on your waist.

The kiss lingered, soft and sweet, but with just enough heat to leave your head all dizzy. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Damn,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, “even better than I imagined.” You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you, shy and giddy all at once. “You imagined kissing me?”

Joel grinned, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Oh, I imagined far more than kissing you, darlin’. Hard not to when you look at me the way you do.” Your heart felt like it might burst, but before you could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the door. “Mr. Miller, we’re back in two!”

Joel sighed dramatically, giving you a wink as he stepped back. “Guess I better get back to work,” he said, his tone light but his eyes still lingering on you. “Don’t go runnin’ off after the show, y’hear? I’m not done with you yet.” You nodded, still too flustered to form a coherent sentence. With one last smirk, Joel turned and strolled out the door, leaving you breathless.

The show had ended in a blur of applause, flashing lights, and the announcer’s booming voice thanking everyone for watching. Contestants and crew mingled briefly as everyone prepared to leave. You’d just stepped to the side of the stage when one of the other contestants, a bubbly blonde in a bright orange jumpsuit, sidled up to you with a knowing smile.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Looks like you really got Mister Smooth swooning all over ya.”

You blinked, startled. “What? No, I don’t think—”

“Oh, honey,” she interrupted with a laugh, crossing her arms. “Everyone could see the way he was devouring you with his eyes. I swear, I was worried he might forget the rest of us were even there.” Your face went hot, and you shook your head quickly. “You’re imagining things.”

“Sure,” she said with a wink, already walking away. “If by ‘imagining things,’ you mean watching him look at you like you hung the moon. Enjoy it, sweetie. A man like Joel Miller doesn’t come around every day.”

Her words echoed in your head as you made your way back to your dressing room. Closing the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, desperate for a moment to collect yourself. The quiet was a relief after the chaos of the show. You slipped out of your stage outfit and into the dress you’d brought for afterward. A soft yellow dress with bell sleeves, a cinched waist, and a flowing A-line skirt covered in a delicate floral print. It felt like something out of a sunny dream, and you hoped it might give you a touch of the confidence you sorely lacked.

You were smoothing the fabric over your hips when the door opened without warning.

“Oh, wow.” The single word made you whirl around. There he was. Joel Miller, standing in the doorway. His tie was loosened, his shirt collar slightly unbuttoned, and his dark eyes were locked on you. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, the words leaving his lips like a breath. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you managed a shy smile. “Oh, it’s just… just a dress,” you murmured, brushing your hands nervously over the skirt.

Joel stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he approached. His gaze was unwavering, taking you in like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Just a dress, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you could be wearin’ a paper bag, and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in the room.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Joel stopped in front of you, lifting a hand to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin, his touch warm and steady.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, before closing the space between you.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Where the earlier kiss had been soft and tentative, this one was sure, filled with hunger and intent. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a passion that made your knees weak.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak— only feel. His touch, his warmth, the way he held you like you were something rare. “Been thinkin’ about doin’ that since the first time I saw you,” he admitted, his voice rough.

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands clutching the lapels of his jacket for balance. “You’ve kissed me twice tonight, Joel,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly. Joel grinned, his dimples making an appearance. “Yeah, I have a soft spot for sweet girls like yourself. ” he said before pausing shortly. “And if you’ll let me, darlin’, I’d be doin' a lot more than kissing you.”

Stopping him was the furthest thing from your mind.

"I'll let you.."

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of submission and maybe a little defiance. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. " You're a good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches. Without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Joel groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the vanity, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fuckin' gorgeous, angel."

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your flowy dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties, white with laced blue details. "Fuck, look at her." His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. In mere seconds, you hear the material rip and then feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor.

"What a pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge, to say the least. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the wet tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low in embarrassment. this doesn't last long, as his rough palm grabs at your face pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the lit up mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, baby. You watch while I wreck this pussy, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly.

"Speak, sweetheart." you breathe out. "Yes, Joel." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough. truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, Joel starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns. every prick of discomfort is soon replaced by an unexpected surge of delight.

Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're alright..." he assures you, asking you to surrender.

"Take it all. Atta girl, just like that..." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Joel moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements. His hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you.

Your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, little girl, look how tight she's suckin' me in." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each time. your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around him.

"Oh, god, please.." You manage. pulling at your hair, he starts chuckling. "Am I your god, baby? Ya like beggin'?" While thrusting relentlessly into you, jelly like legs barely holding you up anymore, your knees buckle. Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, this allowed you to take in a big gulp of air before you feel him deeper in your guts.

"Want me to breed this young pussy, huh? Fill you up with my babies? let people inside this roomㅡ let them film it for the whole world to see?" the room spins around you, vision blurry with tears and brain all fuzzy. you try your best to reply. "yes, oh, p-lease, please! "

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, Joel!" you cry out, praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into your pulsing cunt. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. then he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. You looked perfect, like a carved our porcelain doll. With a few more snaps of his hips you feel he's close, his nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your velvet walls with white ropes of come. "God fuckin'ㅡ!" you know that will leave bruises.

the dressing room feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Joel watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him like the most beautiful piece of art.

You're both quiet for a bit, before he breaks the silence. "You're still up for that date, little lady?"

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction

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enimsiyobeht · 27 days ago

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encore! drabble.

mdni 🤍 !! boypussy sunghoon x amab reader. obvious ot7 harem. implied 8th member reader. use of pussy, hole, and cunt as sunghoon's gential. big dick reader. cervix fucking, belly bulge, cum inflation/creampie, subtle breeding kink, minor dacryphilia, minor exhibitionism, unprotected sex (wrap that shit up por favor), p-in-v, minor cockwarming. lmk if i missed any tags.

The hotel suite was quiet, save for the low hum of the city outside the window. Their concert had ended hours ago, and the rest of the group was supposedly asleep—or pretending to be.

But Sunghoon wasn’t.

He stood near the window, still in his stage tank top and loose joggers, sweaty hair curling around his ears, skin flushed with something that hadn’t left with the lights and cheers.

He looked back when he heard the door click shut.

You stood there, calm, collected—older, taller, broader. Still in your black tee, tattoos peeking from your sleeves, looking at Sunghoon like you already knew why the younger boy had texted you “Room 1109” without explanation.

Sunghoon swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “You came.”

“I always do when it’s you.”

That made Sunghoon’s legs shift subtly, thighs pressing together.

You walked over slowly. “You’re not even trying to hide how bad you want it tonight, huh?”

Sunghoon shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you… on stage. Thought about you splitting me open right after the encore. Want the others listening.”

That made you smile—dark, slow, indulgent.

“Take those off.”

Sunghoon obeyed quickly, stripping his top and pants, leaving nothing underneath. His hole was already slick, needy. You raised an eyebrow.

“Prepped yourself?”

Sunghoon nodded. “Didn’t want to waste time.”

“Good boy.”

You grabbed Sunghoon by the waist and tossed him gently onto the bed, watching how the younger twisted, already breathless from just being handled. Then you undressed—slow, deliberate, until you stood naked above him, cock heavy and thick, already leaking at the tip.

Sunghoon’s legs spread instinctively.

“Don’t tease,” he whispered. “I need it. I need all of it.”

You crawled over him, gripping his hips, and lined up without ceremony. “Then take it.”

You pushed in—slow only because you had to be. Sunghoon’s walls clung desperately, trembling as inch after inch filled him. He gasped, hands gripping the sheets, back arching.

“Fuck—fuck, it’s too big—”

“You took it before,” You growled, thrusting a little deeper, watching the way Sunghoon’s stomach bulged slightly from the pressure. “You can take it again.”

Sunghoon moaned, head tossing back against the pillow. “I feel it in my stomach—”

You pressed a hand to the center of his abdomen, right where the outline of your cock pushed up visibly. “Right here?”

Sunghoon whimpered. “Yes—”

You leaned in, hand still pressed to that bulge. “That’s your cervix, baby. I’m knocking against it.”

Sunghoon was crying now—pretty, breathless tears slipping from his eyes as you began to thrust, slow but merciless, grinding deep every time.

“Too deep—feels so good—feels so fucking good—”

You didn’t stop. You angled his hips just right to drag against that soft, trembling spot inside, again and again, until Sunghoon was shaking under you, babbling nonsense.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” You said. “Wanted to be ruined. Wanted to feel me up in your belly.”

Sunghoon nodded helplessly. “I wanna feel full. I wanna be bred—just like the others.”

Your eyes darkened. “You love being part of my little secret, huh?”

Sunghoon clenched around you at that—tight and desperate.

“Bet they're listening right now,” he murmured. “Hard in bed, wishing it was them instead.”

Sunghoon let out a filthy moan.

You grabbed his hips and started fucking him harder—balls slapping, hips slamming, bed creaking beneath them. The wet squelch of Sunghoon’s pussy filled the room.

That bulge in his belly appeared with every thrust.

“You’re gonna come just from this,” You said, predicted even.

And he did.

Sunghoon came untouched, shaking, body locking up as his hole fluttered wildly around the thick cock inside him. His back arched, crying out your name, twitching through it.

But you weren't done.

You fucked him through the orgasm, pushing deep one last time and burying yourself to the hilt. Sunghoon screamed as he felt the heat flood him—load after load pouring deep into his cunt, making the bulge in his belly swell just a little more.

You collapsed over him, breathing heavy.

Sunghoon blinked up at you, dazed. “Don’t pull out yet.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

They lay there, locked together, breathing mingling in the quiet room. Somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked.

And Sunghoon smiled.

“They’re gonna want a turn next.”

You chuckled against his throat.

“Good. I’ve got enough for all of you.”

morning after blooper

Sunghoon woke up first—barely.

His thighs ached. His hips felt bruised. His stomach still had a faint outline from where he’d been full all night. He groaned, rolling over onto his belly and immediately regretted it.

“Fuck me…” he mumbled, face half-squished into a pillow.

You, still blissfully half-asleep, reached over and lazily smacked his ass. “Already did. Several times.”

Sunghoon just whined.

He was about to say something else—maybe complain about how he’d never walk again—when the hotel door suddenly clicked open.

“Hyung? You left your—OH MY GOD—”

Jake.

Holding coffee.

Frozen in the doorway, staring at Sunghoon’s bare back and you sitting up shirtless, hair a mess, scratches all down your chest like proof.

“Dude!” Jake’s voice shot up an octave. “You said you locked the door!”

You blinked. “I thought I did.”

Sunghoon just pulled the pillow over his head and screamed.

Jake spun around, shielding his eyes with the coffee tray. “I did not need to see Sunghoon with his ass in the air at 8 AM!”

“Then close the door!” Sunghoon shouted from under the pillow.

Jake backed out blindly, bumping into the wall.

“Group chat is gonna eat this up,” he mumbled on his way out.

The door slammed shut.

Silence.

Then you leaned down next to Sunghoon’s ear.

“So… round two before they all show up?”

Sunghoon growled. “Only if you carry me the rest of the day.”

“Deal.”

tysm for 400+ notes, here's a heavily requested part two (featuring jay)

#works 🐥 theboyismine !!#top male reader #bottom character #enhypen smut #park sunghoon x male reader #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon x male reader #sunghoon smut #kpop x male reader #sub kpop #sub!idol #dom male reader #enhypen x male reader

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kunareads · 3 months ago

Text

and i bet it's even better than in my head

actor!satoru x popstar!reader

satoru's valentine's day present causes headlines.

series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 5k

this is the last part. i love them so much and they're so sweet and it only made sense to end it on valentine's day <3 <3

content: another awards show, tension, reader loves torturing satoru lol, fluff, SMUT!, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, nanami hating them, internet uproar. slight smau.

18+ please <3

music hums through the car’s speakers, low and familiar. anticipation simmers between you and satoru, the air warm and electric.

his fingers brush against your wrist as he fastens your bracelet, the touch lingering before trailing up to adjust the strap of your dress. the fabric catches the light, its shimmer matched to the shade of his jacket.

he leans in, looking you over. “good?”

you hum, smoothing his collar, fingers trailing along his jaw. a smudge of gloss lingers just below, and you wipe it away with your thumb.

“you should’ve left it,” he murmurs, teasing but not joking.

the car slows. camera flashes catch in the tinted windows, bright bursts against the dark. your gaze meets his, and for a moment, everything stills.

we’re really doing this.

your thumb sweeps over his cheek. “happy valentine’s day, satoru.”

he leans in to press a careful kiss to your lips. “happy valentine’s day, princess.”

the car door opens, and the energy shifts.

flashes explode, the carpet illuminated. the noise doubles—shouted questions, photographers calling your names, attention crackling in the air.

you’re used to this. so is satoru. but together, it’s more.

his hand finds the small of your back, a quiet claim, more instinct than intention. you both play to the cameras at first: the flash of his smile, the perfect turn of your head, a performance both of you know by heart.

then, when the moment is right, he leans down, his voice low and just for you. “you’re unreal.”

his lips brush your shoulder—nothing scandalous, just enough to set the cameras alight. then, with a slow step back, he gives you space, letting you take center stage.

and you do, tilting your head just enough, shifting so the light catches the glimmer of your dress, giving them exactly what they want.

even in the chaos, there’s the quiet undercurrent of his unwavering attention on you. you like the way he looks at you, like the rest of the world is background noise. you glance back, unable to help yourself. he doesn’t look away. doesn’t even pretend to.

his lips twitch, staring you dead in the eye like he knows something they don’t.

+++

the noise lingers past the carpet, a steady hum of excitement trailing you and satoru into the interview area. cameras roll, microphones extend toward you, and you barely have a second to adjust before a familiar voice cuts in.

nobara leans in, eyes glinting. “you arrived together, in matching outfits, and satoru literally kissed your shoulder on the carpet—should we be reading into this?”

you blink, glancing down at your outfit, then at him. “wait, we match?”

satoru scoffs, shaking his head. “she copied me.”

you nudge him lightly, and nobara snickers. “so, are you two celebrating valentine’s day together?”

satoru’s smile tugs wider as he glances at you. “i’d say this is a pretty solid start.”

nobara shifts, tilting the microphone toward you. “and you’re performing tonight! what can we expect?”

your eyes flick to satoru before you answer. “something new.”

her head tilts. “wait, like, never-heard-before new?”

satoru’s head jerks toward you. “wait, actually?”

“you really didn’t know?” nobara asks, brows lifting.

you shrug, feigning innocence. “he loves surprises.”

satoru blinks, processing. then his eyes narrow. “do i?”

nobara just laughs, moving on, but you’ve planted your seed.

by the time you make it past the press line, the internet is already in flames.

@/ynupdates: THE WAY SHE SAID ‘HE LOVES SURPRISES’ AND HE JUST STARED AT HER LIKE ??? DO I ???

@/fulltimeshipper: the way satoru got bamboozled on that carpet and just rolled with it. like okay sir go get your life rocked i guess

@/satorusimplicity: not she’s giving him a valentine’s day present in the form of a mystery performance……… let’s pray

the night moves in flashes—satoru’s laughter in your ear, the warmth of his hand warm on your thigh, champagne bubbles fizzing against your lips.

the ceremony blurs past in speeches, applause, and stolen glances. each time you turn to him, he’s already watching, eyes gleaming, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

just before you head backstage, he leans in close. “should i be nervous?”

you just smirk, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his jacket before kissing his cheek and slipping away.

your outfit is something stolen from the past, romantic and undone. lace and silk hug you, sheer in places meant to tease.

beyond the curtain, the crowd murmurs, rising into cheers as your name is announced. onstage, warm golden light pools across deep red velvet, roses scattered like remnants of a perfect night.

the first note hums in your ear. the moment the stage manager signals, you step into the light.

you sink into a velvet lounge chair, crossing your legs, leaning in like you’re telling a secret.

i was in a sheer dress, the day that we met we were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

the music carries over the room, curling like smoke. your gaze drifts the crowd, landing on him.

satoru is grinning. at first. you keep singing.

then his chest rises on a slow inhale. realization flickers in his eyes. you see the exact moment he puts it together.

oh.

you sit up, fingers grazing the rim of the glass beside you, lifting it slowly. the next lines slip from your lips, smooth as silk.

who’s the cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad mm? like i know it sound a bit redundant but i bet we’d have really good bed chem

the camera follows your gaze, panning to him.

he leans forward, eyes locked on you, blinking like he’s processing the fact that you are, in fact, doing this to him on live television. he shakes his head, smiling like can’t believe you—entertained, stunned, and completely enamored.

you bend down, fingers ghosting a red rose before plucking it from the stage. soft petals brush against your skin as you stand and start walking.

the audience stirs. your voice is lower now, sweeter.

and i bet we’d both arrive at the same time

satoru tilts his head slightly, watching you approach.

and i bet the thermostat’s set at six-nine

you don’t stop, don’t hesitate. as you pass, you set the rose down on his table, fingers trailing across his shoulders like an afterthought.

and i bet it’s even better than in my head

the cameras catch everything—his sharp inhale, the way his fingers twitch against his thigh, the way his tongue presses against his cheek like he just took a hit he wasn’t prepared for.

the beat shifts back in as you slip toward center stage. just before you turn away completely, you look straight at him.

how you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round, oh, it just makes sense how you talk so sweet when you’re doin’ bad things that’s bed chem

satoru doesn’t even try to play it cool. he’s staring, lips parted, one hand braced against the table, like he needs to ground himself.

the crowd roars as the song melts into its final note, and you just smile, letting the music fade out around you as the stage lights dim.

and in the audience, satoru exhales, dragging a hand down his face.

beyond the stage, beyond the cameras, the performance hits like a shockwave.

@/chaoticgood: why am i being seduced rn??????

@/ynenergy: SHE WALKED RIGHT PAST HIM LIKE HE WAS JUST ANOTHER MAN. I WOULD NOT SURVIVE THIS

@/satorusbraincell: SATORU BLINK TWICE IF YOU’RE IN DISTRESS

@/ynsleftknee: spending my valentine’s day watching this lady seduce her man on national tv…

+++

it’s been a week since you last saw each other. too long.

you don’t notice him at first.

satoru leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching as your team moves around you—adjusting, blending, spraying.

you reach for your lipstick last, leaning close to the mirror, swiping on the deep red shade in smooth, practiced strokes.

he still doesn’t announce himself—just waits, tracking your every move. the way you press your lips together, checking the color. the satisfied tilt of your chin.

then you see movement at the edge of the mirror. broad shoulders, white hair, blue eyes locked on you.

excitement surges so fast you nearly send a jar of brushes flying.

you run. satoru barely has time to react before you throw yourself into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. he catches you easily, laughing as he stumbles back a step. “miss me?”

you nod, pressing your face into his neck. “obviously.”

you pull back just enough to meet his eyes. just enough for your lips to brush his neck, leaving a smudge of red against his skin.

you blink at the mark. then, slowly, you grin.

satoru narrows his eyes. “what?”

you slide from his hold, grabbing his hands, guiding him toward the dressing room chair.

“sit.”

he obeys, dropping into the seat, letting you climb into his lap. his eyes glimmer—amusement, intrigue, a little bit of trouble—as you twist the lipstick open and lean in.

a kiss beneath his jaw.

then another.

and another.

by the time you reach his collarbone, the collar of his shirt is a disaster—smudges of red staining the crisp white fabric, a masterpiece of your making. you sit up, admiring your work, before reapplying.

satoru huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “kento’s gonna be pissed.”

“looks hot,” you say, grinning. “hold still.”

your fingers trail down, making quick work of the buttons, pushing his shirt open. his breathing stutters, but he doesn’t stop you. he just watches, eyes dark, waiting.

then your lips are on him again, finding his chest, his shoulders, moving lower, leaving traces of red like a brand. your lips trace the hard lines of his stomach, pressing deeper, leaving proof.

he exhales sharply, head tipping back. by the time you’re done, he’s covered—his throat, his chest, the dips of his abs, all ruined.

you press one last kiss to his jaw, and satoru groans, head dropping forward. “if you keep going, we’re not making it to set.”

you tilt your head, feigning consideration. then, deliberately, you hover over his mouth.

the air tightens—waiting, waiting—

“fuck it.”

the chair scrapes back as he moves. you find yourself on the vanity, legs spread, satoru between them.

his mouth finds your throat immediately, open and hungry.

you laugh, breath hitching as his lips drag lower, hands pushing up your robe, fingers skimming bare skin. something clatters to the floor.

“you’re making a mess,” you murmur, exhaling sharply as his teeth scrape your collarbone.

he laughs against your skin, voice rough. “i’m making a mess?”

his lips find the top of your chest, the dip above your ribs, hands pushing your thighs further apart—

a loud sigh.

a very loud, very familiar sigh.

you freeze. so does satoru, lips still parted against your skin.

slowly, he lifts his head, shielding you as he closes your robe.

in the doorway, kento nanami stands—arms crossed, unimpressed.

his gaze travels from satoru’s face, to his lipstick-stained shirt, to his lipstick-stained body.

a beat.

“no.”

you look at satoru. satoru looks at you.

then, at the same time: “too late.”

kento pinches the bridge of his nose.

satoru grins, shameless. “what? it’s the look.”

+++

the set glows under golden lighting, everything draped in a hazy warmth. the camera is rolling, the crew watching from just beyond the lights. you sit at a bar, idly tracing the rim of a glass, your gaze flicking just past the camera as the intro to your song plays through the set speakers.

kento’s direction is simple: untouched, untouchable, alluring. you make it look effortless.

right on cue, satoru moves into the frame. his presence shifts the energy instantly, like a static charge through the air.

he glides in behind you, his reflection catching in the mirrored bar shelves. a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened like he’s already been up to something.

he doesn’t touch you. just leans in like the script tells him to. but instead of playing his role, he uses it. “if kento wasn’t burning a hole through my skull,” he murmurs, just for you, “i’d have my hand up your skirt already.”

your breath catches, barely noticeable, but satoru feels it.

you don’t react. at least, not the way he wants you to. instead, you follow the script, smirking slow and knowing, like you saw this coming a mile away.

off-camera, an exasperated sigh cuts through the moment.

“good, keep that smirk. satoru, shut up.”

kento’s voice is flat, like he’s aged a decade in the past thirty seconds.

satoru grins. he doesn’t even pretend to be sorry. you press your lips together, fighting the urge to laugh.

+++

the elevator doors glide shut, sealing the three of you in. cameras are rolling.

dim lighting casts soft shadows across the walls. reflective panels make the space feel tighter. the script’s notes flicker through your mind: anticipation, restraint, tension.

kento doesn’t wait. “this is about restraint. no touching.”

satoru leans against the back wall, hands in his pockets. relaxed on the surface. his tongue skims his teeth, jaw shifting, gaze fixed on you like a challenge.

you say nothing. you just press the top floor button, hovering over the emergency stop in faux consideration.

a scripted pause.

satoru shifts, unhurried. he doesn’t touch you—technically. but you hear his inhale, like he’s fighting an urge. he takes a step closer, crowding your space. you feel the heat of him behind you.

“define touching,” he says with a smirk.

the words skim down your spine, and you react before you can help it, you shift, taking an almost invisible inhale, your lips parting slightly.

kento’s jaw sets. “i will physically remove you.”

+++

the suite set is dimly lit, soft and gold with faux city lights filtering through the windows.

satoru reclines against the headboard, white shirt undone, boxers riding low on his hips. evidence of your earlier antics lingers—lipstick scattered on him like a map of everywhere you’ve been.

you straddle him, hovering, silk lingerie catching the light. the scene is simple: seduction in motion.

you lean in, your lips brushing the red-stained curve of his throat. a deliberate tease. then, so subtle only he can feel it, you roll your hips.

satoru’s breath stutters, but outwardly, he doesn’t react. not for the cameras. his hands twitch against the sheets, jaw tightening.

then, so low that only you can hear it:

“keep doing that, and i’ll give the cameras something real to shoot.”

your lips curve. his hands remain at his sides, but you can feel the restraint humming under his skin.

you tilt your head slightly, gaze flickering to his hands, daring him.

you shift again. just for him. a breath catches—his, not yours. his jaw tightens.

and then, to no one’s surprise, he caves.

his hands slide up your thighs, fingers spreading against your waist, pulling you closer.

“CUT.”

kento’s voice slices through the haze.

satoru exhales, tilting his head back against the headboard. his grip tightens for just a second before he lets go, dragging his hands back to his sides.

kento steps forward, frustration palpable. “too much hands.”

satoru hums. “disagree.”

you smirk, tilting your head. “i think it’s fine.”

+++

the moment the door clicks shut behind kento, the studio crew finally gone, satoru exhales sharply, like he’s been holding it in all night.

you stand by a mirror, adjusting the lace of your lingerie, fixing your makeup. poised, untouched.

across the room, satoru is a wrecked contrast—lipstick-stained, his open shirt hanging off his shoulders, boxers slung low on his hips. he looks like something you ruined, something you can ruin again.

he drags his gaze over you, indulgent. the soft fabric clings to your skin, shifting as you move. he watches the steady movement of your breaths, the way you subtly adjust your posture. you’re perfect.

you meet his eyes in the mirror, tilting your head. “you enjoyed that a little too much, huh?”

his grin is sharp, dangerous. “you have no fucking idea.”

you take a slow step back, just to see if he follows. you expect a chase.

he’s on you in seconds.

he catches your waist, guiding you back until the bed catches you. the second your back hits the sheets, he’s there—pressing you down, lips crashing into yours, swallowing the gasp that slips free. his tongue sweeps against yours, greedy and unrelenting, like he’s making up for every second he had to hold back on set.

his hands slide down, rough, impatient, gripping the backs of your thighs. your panties are gone in a single motion. his body is flush against you, hips pressing into yours, the heat unbearable.

he bites your bottom lip, then soothes it with his tongue, murmuring, “such a tease.”

his hands slip beneath the silk, dragging over the curve of your waist, his fingers pressing into soft skin. his lips follow—jaw to throat to collarbone, warm and open-mouthed. his teeth scrape lightly and you arch, fingers twisting into his hair.

he groans when you tug, pressing his hips down into yours, letting you feel how hard he is, how much he wants you. his mouth moves lower, down to the swell of your breasts, sucking a mark right above your heart.

his fingers slide further down, grazing heat, and he exhales sharply, like it’s confirmation of what he already knew.

“fuck,” he groans, pressing a kiss just above your navel, voice wrecked. “already soaked for me.”

you suck in a breath, fingers threading into his snowy hair, guiding him lower.

he chuckles, breath hot against your skin. “desperate?”

you roll your eyes, and he just grins.

you squirm beneath him, already impatient, aching, but satoru just keeps doing what he’s doing. he loves this—loves teasing, loves making you wait, loves knowing how much you want him.

he kisses higher, right by where you need him most, but doesn’t give in yet. instead, he exhales, sending cool air against your heat, watching your body react.

“missed this,” he murmurs. “missed you.”

“missed you too, ‘toru,” you breathe, nails scraping against his scalp.

he hums at that, pressing another kiss just above your clit, lips lingering.

then, finally, he licks a slow, deliberate stripe through your folds. your back arches, legs tensing over his shoulders, and he groans at your reaction, at how needy you already are for him.

he takes his time, tongue dragging through your slick, slow and unhurried, savoring the way you writhe. you buck against his mouth, chasing friction, but a strong hand moves over your pelvis, holding you down.

“let me enjoy this,” he mutters against you, voice thick with amusement. “made me suffer all fucking day.”

he sucks at your clit, just enough to make you whimper, to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. your head falls back, breath breaking into shaky gasps. he’s not rushing—he’s just working you open, licking into you slowly, precisely, making sure you feel it.

satoru loves every noise you make. he’s been hooked since the first time you came apart for him. so when you moan, unrestrained, he chuckles, breath hot against your slick skin. “there she is,” he murmurs, smiling as he pushes your legs up, exposing more of you. “give me another one.”

his tongue curls inside you, deep and slow, unraveling you. his hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you spread, keeping you from running from the pleasure.

you whine, thighs shaking, fingers slipping from his hair to clutch the sheets. your body feels stretched thin, heat pooling deep, tension winding so tight it nearly hurts.

“satoru—” your voice breaks, high, desperate.

he hums against you, the vibration sinking into you. “yeah, baby?” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to watch you squirm before diving in again.

you whimper, chasing every flick of his tongue, every press of his mouth, your body arching off the bed, desperate for more.

he just grins, watching you struggle, taking his time.

then, suddenly, the pleasure spikes—his tongue curling just right, lips sucking slow and deep, dragging you under.

“oh my god—” your breath stutters, body locking up as your orgasm slams into you, sudden and consuming.

he doesn’t stop. he works you through it, dragging out every last wave, groaning against you and loving the way you fall apart for him. when your body finally shudders, oversensitive, he pulls back, lips slick, pupils blown.

it’s not enough.

your chest rises, unsteady, but the need doesn’t fade. it only deepens, twisting into something hungrier.

you reach for him, tugging him up by the shoulders, nails raking down his back.

he leans over you and grins down, smug and satisfied. “that was a big one,” he teases. “you look so fucking pretty when you cum.”

you don’t think. the word just slips out, breathless, desperate. “please.”

his grin against your jaw is slow, wicked, teasing. but he doesn’t move. "please, what?"

you shift beneath him, thighs squeezing around his hips, trying to pull him closer. but he stays firm, hovering over you.

you feel his bulge against you, his boxers getting covered in your slick. the friction drives you crazy.

“use your words, princess,” he murmurs, lips brushing your throat, sucking lightly. “tell me what you need.”

“satoru—” you whine, back arching, but he just leans back, pushing his boxers down enough to free himself. he lines the tip up against your entrance and stops.

his smirk is slow, easy. “that’s not an answer.”

he rolls his hips, just enough to tease, just enough to make you gasp—then pulls away again.

you whimper, frustration curling through every nerve, every inch of you aching for more. “need you,” you gasp, pulling his hands to your waist, desperate to feel his weight again.

he groans, hips stuttering before he steadies himself. “need me to do what?” his voice is still teasing, but his breathing is heavier now.

he leans down, face-to-face with you. your fingers twist in his hair, nails pressing into his scalp. "need you to fuck me," you breathe, leaving small kisses and licks along his jaw.

his grin sharpens like you just gave him exactly what he wanted. “see?” he purrs, scraping his teeth over your collarbone. "that wasn’t so hard, was it?"

"sa—"

"say it again," he murmurs, pressing the tip inside, just barely, before pulling back.

frustration coils tight, unbearable. “fuck me,” you gasp, hips lifting, chasing him. "satoru, please—"

that does it.

his smirk vanishes, his jaw going tight. "fuck—"

his hands grip your thighs, opening them wider.

then, finally, he pushes in, stretching you open with one slow, unrelenting thrust.

a strangled moan rips from your throat, your body arching as he fills you completely.

he groans, pressing his lips to your cheek first, then the top of your head.

"that’s my girl."

his name is a breathless moan on your lips, barely holding its shape as pulls back and sinks into you again, stretching you open until he’s buried to the hilt. your thighs tighten around his waist, locking him in place like you could keep him there forever.

his breath shudders, forehead pressing to yours, one hand gripping your hip, the other fisting the sheets. he’s already falling apart, his voice a rasp against your lips.

“fuck—so wet, so perfect.”

his words barely register over the rush in your ears, the desperate, needy way your body clenches around him, still sensitive and needy. every inch of him makes you tremble, every movement leaves you gasping. it’s still not enough.

“more.” it slips out, broken, pleading.

he groans, fingers flexing against your hip, keeping you pinned. “you’re fucking insatiable,” he mutters, but he’s just as bad. his next thrust is harder, deeper, pushing you into the mattress, forcing another gasp from your lips.

he swears under his breath, shifting one of your legs higher, draping it over his shoulder, angling himself even deeper. the change has you crying out, your body jolting, nails dragging down his back.

“that’s it, baby,” he groans, voice thick, drinking in every gasp, every broken moan. “lemme hear you.”

he sets a rhythm, slow at first, savoring it—each thrust deliberate, pushing you closer, making your breath stutter, your mind go blank. but it’s not enough, not for either of you.

his grip tightens, his pace quickening. the bed creaks beneath you, the air thick—heat, friction, the obscene slap of skin on skin, the desperate, breathless sounds spilling from your lips.

he tilts his head, voice dipping low, rough, commanding. it’s not something you get to hear often. “open your mouth.”

you don’t even think, just obey—lips parting, chin tilting, waiting. his thumb drags across your bottom lip, smearing your lipstick before he spits, watching your tongue flick out to catch it.

you swallow without hesitation. he twitches inside you at the sight, hips jerking forward, thrusting deeper, rougher.

“good fucking girl,” he groans, voice wrecked, pressing his forehead to yours.

his lips trail down your throat, sucking, biting, marking. he loses himself in the rhythm, hips snapping into you, pulling out just to drive back in harder, deeper. “you take me so fucking well every time.”

your body tightens around him, desperate, clinging. your nails rake down his back, your hips lifting to meet him, to take more. you can never get enough of him.

he leans back slightly, gripping your thighs, spreading you open wider. his gaze drops between you, watching himself disappear into you, watching the way you take him.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. “so fucking pretty like this.”

“you like watching?” you tease, but your voice is weak, wrecked.

he groans, grinding into you, making you moan, making you shake. “love watching you fall apart for me,” he mutters, before leaning in, kissing you deep and swallowing your gasps.

the bed creaks louder, the rhythm unraveling into something more frantic, more desperate. your body arches beneath him, his name a choked moan against his lips. he feels it—feels the way your walls flex around him, feels the way you shake, the way you’re already there, teetering, about to fall.

his lips brush against yours, voice low, coaxing. “give it to me.”

and you shatter.

your body bows, fingers digging into his shoulders, his name breaking from your lips repeatedly as your orgasm slams through you, hard, sudden, and overwhelming. your walls pulse around him, dragging him down with you.

his thrusts falter, his grip on your thighs tightening. he moans, deep and wrecked, pressing in as deep as he can go as he spills inside you. his forehead drops to yours, both of you panting, skin slick, bodies tangled in the aftershock.

you stay there for a moment until he pulls out, sliding down onto the mattress and pulling you into him. he searches your face, fingers swiping over your spine.

“you okay?” he murmurs, voice soft with exhaustion.

you nod, still catching your breath. your fingers thread lazily into his hair, smoothing it back as he exhales against your skin. he presses a slow, lingering kiss to your temple. his voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“let’s go home.”

+++

it’s been two weeks since the music video was filmed. it’s releasing today, and you opted to stay home with satoru for it.

you and satoru are sprawled across the couch in your apartment, the tv murmuring in the background. satoru’s head is in your lap, his arm draped lazily over your thighs, scrolling on his phone. your fingers move absently through his hair, but when you check your notifications, you go still.

"oh, shit."

satoru hums without looking up. “hmm?”

"it’s bad."

his brows lift slightly, but his attention stays on his phone. "define bad."

you hesitate, staring at the screen like it might change if you blink enough times. "i think the internet is broken."

that gets his attention. he shifts, craning his neck to glance at your phone.

"jesus christ."

the tweets are relentless.

@/stanwars: WHY DOES IT FEEL ILLEGAL TO WATCH THIS FOR FREE

@/ynsays: i need to study them under a microscope

@/fathergojo: she wrote this horny ass song about him and then made him ACT IT OUT like a VILLAIN.

@/touchgrasscommittee: kento nanami has seen things he can never unsee. he is never working with them again

the headlines aren’t much better.

Rolling Stone: Y/N’s ‘Bed Chem’ Music Video Redefines Intimacy on Screen

Elle: Y/N’s New Music Video: Cinematic Excellence or Just an Excuse to Make Out?

PopBuzz: The Internet Is in Mourning Because Satoru Gojo Is Officially Taken

you scroll further. “oh, wow.”

satoru shifts, eyes narrowing at the way your expression tightens. "what now?"

you open your group chat.

satoru snorts, scrolling further. "oh my god, look at this tiktok."

the screen shows a fake behind-the-scenes clip of nanami sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose as you and satoru get a little too close on set.

another video cuts to a montage of satoru looking way too into it, captioned this man forgot the cameras were rolling.

another shows a person sipping tea with shaking hands, wrapped in a blanket, sunglasses on, looking like they’ve been through a war.

satoru pouts. “they’re making things up. i was fine during filming.”

you press play on a slowed-down clip of him gripping your thighs, head falling back as you kiss his throat.

"oh, totally," you say, watching the clip, lips twitching. "you were super composed."

his expression shifts immediately. "i don’t like this game anymore."

grinning, you scroll. "oh, wait, they slowed down this part too—"

suddenly, satoru snatches your phone and tosses it onto the other side of the couch.

"okay," he declares, pinning you against the cushions, smirking down at you. "that’s enough of that."

"hey—"

"since we’re dissecting things," he muses, eyes glinting, "let’s talk about your expressions during filming."

you laugh, squirming beneath him. "oh my god, get off me."

his smirk deepens, fingers curling around your wrist, his breath ghosting against your skin. "nah," he says, eyes dark and playful as he leans in, "i think i need to rewatch the footage. for, uh…research. live commentary this time."

you shove at his shoulder, laughing. "satoru—"

but he’s already reaching for the remote.

tags: @moonchhu @httpstoyosi @lavnder311 @harryzcherry @perkypeony @katecupcakekate @hellicify @oh-my-god-donald @jupiterbinnie @i88b0nten @satxoru @chuuminn @moncher-ire @r0ckst4rjk @flwerie @raendarkfaerie @pinksdump @blkmystery @pearlessance @satoruxsc

389 notes · View notes

hellfire--cult · 2 months ago

Text

Steddie x Reader

wc: 8.2k

+18 fluff, eddie and steve are a musical duo, reader being a fan and a bit self conscious, some angst, but fluff overall, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), threesome

Summary: Your favorite duo was in town for a few days. You had seen them a million times, yet you never had the opportunity to meet them. But a fateful morning, that happens, and you weren't prepared for it.

a/n: idk what came over me, this is filthy, and completely delulu, but something about eddie and steve being a gay duo did something to me. this was barely proofread, also i forgot to put the title in the picture, but idc

Please reblog, don't just like.

It was a bright Monday morning.

You looked up at your ceiling as you slowly started opening your eyes, the drowsiness of the night falling away as you center yourself a bit more. Then you looked to the side. The poster of your favorite duo, The Outcasts.

Steve Harrington, the singer and acoustic guitar player smiled charmingly at the camera while Eddie Munson, the one who does screamo and plays the electric guitar, pulled the bottom eyelid of his left eye down and stuck his tongue out. The contrast of the two was what made you fall completely in love with them.

Supposedly, they have known each other since high school, and they honestly didn’t like one another. It made sense to look at Steve and see him as popular, while Eddie looked like the weird one. But then Steve’s story came out, how he was basically abandoned by his family. Eddie was an outcast to society, while Steve was an outcast of his own family.

You didn’t know which one hurt the most.

But the rumor that stuck the most to you, was that people were saying they were dating. They never confirmed it, but on stage they do some teasing about almost kissing, or Eddie would slap Steve’s ass, while Steve would kiss Eddie’s shoulder from behind. You had been to many of their concerts, and you were always in awe with them.

You were a little more than obsessed. You had watched every video, every BTS, every interview, every old video from their school days, researched them, bought their merchandise, and you were wishing on the day you would be able to meet them. Tell them how their music saved you.

You snapped out of your daydream, your mom yelling your name to come downstairs. You frowned a bit, got up from the bed, and stretched. Your back cracked and you winced slightly at the sound. You needed a chiropractor at this point. You always sleep in weird positions, and you don't really know how to correct it.

You stood up, getting your slippers on, and walked out of your room, scratching your head. You walked down the stairs only for your mother to be standing right in the foyer, her arms crossed, a glare in her eyes. You were confused at her demeanor. You knew your mother was temperamental, but you hadn’t done anything, not that you could think about, to make her this angry towards you.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” You finally reached the bottom of the stairs to look at her, and then your heart skipped a beat when her gaze turned even darker.

“You’ve been a hustle to maintain. All this time, you’ve been eating my savings away, with high school, your trips, wanting to go to college. Where do you think I can get the money for your stupid college?” You tilted your head, not understanding where she was going with this, not having ever received a complaint from your mother about money. She had been acting weird lately, but you assumed it was because of the divorce with your father.

“What are you talking about? This is the first time I’m hearing about this!” You complained and then froze, a cold sweat invading your entire body when your mother let out a wicked grin your way.

“But I solved it. You see, I sold you online.”

“What?”

“You now no longer belong to me. I bet they will make you a slave. I didn’t even met them, but they offered so much money for someone like you. It was hard to resist.”

The doorbell rang, and you were frozen in the ground as your mother opened the door, only to reveal the beautiful duo you had been a fan of for a long time. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson stood there, and you gasped, holding your chest in surprise.

“Hello beautiful.” Steve said and you couldn’t believe it. Eddie immediately pulled you in by your petite minuscule ant like waist with an hourglass shape that could outmatch Nicki Minaj, your long wavy blonde voluminous and gigantic filled with secrets hair moving from side to side as he pulled you close.

“You two want me?” Your voice small and sweet, filled with pureness, your eyes shining like blazing diamonds.

“Of course, you’re so beautiful, and now you’re ours. We’re gonna marry you instantly, and we will make sure you live a happy life with us.” Steve said and you gasped when he instantly kissed your plump juicy natural looking pink lips, and you knew you were in love with them. You have always been.

“We fell in love with you at first sight on that post your mother made.” Eddie said and when Steve pulled away, he kissed you as well. Their bigger bodies wrapping all around you, making you feel like a little bug that they could squish.

“I love you both.” You confess when you pull away, your heart soaring into the sky. But they know a secret you don’t, another reason they bought you. They want you to know you were adopted by your mother, because…

You are also a lost princess from a city that no longer exists. Atlantis.

Your new life starts here.

happy april fools

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie x reader #steddie x fem!reader #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie imagine

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ramp-it-up · 3 months ago

Text

Peach V

Peach IV | Peach VI

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. Maybe it’s because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Are you finally willing to admit that you want to be with him?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two like I can’t explain. The slow burn speeds up a lil bit in this. There’s some action. 🥹 This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Steve Rogers fic Peach IV. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, EXTREME Mutual pining, idiots in love, lusting, dancing lessons, use of the words ‘mad’ and ‘crazy,’ Bucky is a jerk, boy do you get jealous. Kissing and heavy petting in the form of oral sex, female receiving. Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“Welcome to SOB’s.”

You were one of the first awardees up to present to the group. Each recipient picked a NYC area artistic landmark to research and lead the others on a tour, discussing the significance to the art form for which they received funding.

As always, you were going outside of the box.

You looked around and concentrated on not staring at Steve. He looked so fine, foregoing his tailored sport coats this evening for a black pullover pushed up on his hairy, corded forearms.

Dark jeans clung to his thighs and black boots encased his huge feet. What he was wearing highlighted every physical attribute that made you weak. He was quite the distraction, but you were a professional.

You smiled at your cousin and Bucky, who were beaming at you, and began.

“Sounds of Brazil isn’t just a club—it’s a melting pot of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

You moved around the relatively small dark space, but then a screen came down on the stage and a slide show of performances danced across it, with accompanying music flowing from the speakers.

“SOB’s started as a space to showcase Brazilian, Latin, Caribbean, and African music, and quickly became a go-to spot for hip-hop, R&B, and reggae too. The Afro-Caribbean Queen herself, Ms. Celia Cruz, as well as Marc Anthony, J Cole, HER and Mac Miller (rest his soul) have all rocked this stage.”

You were silent for a moment and then continued.

“This place is more than music; it’s about community, culture, and the celebration of diverse sounds. For me, dance is life. And it’s music such as what was fostered here that inspires me. It’s places like this that give life to the creativity of my art and my soul.”

“The vibe here is immaculate. It’s intimate, electric, and always unpredictable. Just imagine the countless artists who’ve poured their souls into performances right on this stage.This isn’t just a club, it’s a meld of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

The video and music turned to Celia Cruz’s “Toro Mata” and three beautiful women, who looked like showgirls, came from backstage.

“In February, Salsa Groove starts at SOB’s with free salsa lessons, happy hour, and many other fun things. These ladies are here to give us a preview, so find a partner and let’s dance!”

Sharon moved toward Steve, but Sam grabbed her and she plastered on a fake smile. You smiled over at your cousin who was currently in the process of being caught up in the arms of James Buchanan Barnes.

Activity swirled around you as the dance instructors organized groups to teach, but you and Steve were left in the center of the dance floor.

You smiled at him.

“Looks like I get to teach you Mr. Rogers.”

“Lucky me. Hope your feet survive.”

His sexy chuckle did you in as you slid into his arms. You placed your arms in the right position, but shifted to help him adjust.

“Relax your shoulders,” you murmured, stepping closer and running your hand along his broad trapezius muscles.

Your voice was warm and laced with patience as you looked into his eyes.

“Salsa isn’t just about the steps. It’s about how you feel the music.”

“I feel it,” replied Steve, swallowing as he watched your hips move effortlessly with the rhythm. You made it look easy, natural and beautiful. He, on the other hand, felt a little bit out of sync, out of breath, and out of his depth.

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, your palms pressing together and conducting electricity.

“Start with the basics,” you whispered, guiding him.

“One, two, three: back. Five, six, seven: forward.”

Steve looked down to catch the rhythm and you pulled his arm around you tighter, causing you two to meld even closer together.

“Don’t overthink it. Just listen to me.”

Steve nodded and looked into the kaleidoscope depths of your eyes.

And he listened.

He listened to the way your breath hitched as his hand slid to your waist.

And he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyes flickered to his lips when you moved together in sync, your bodies sinfully connected.

“That’s it,” you said, your voice lower now, “Now, feel me.”

You guided his hand to your lower back, and his fingers instinctively pulled you more firmly against him. This power from him made you high along with the way your body fit against his.

You moved in perfect harmony.

“Better,” you murmured as you watched his mouth again.

Steve was found himself smiling, his steps more fluid now, as if he’d been dancing with you forever. His confidence grew with each turn, each time your bodies came in contact.

And when you finally spun into him, your palm resting against his chest, your breaths mingling in the space between you, he knew this wasn’t just a dance.

It was his chance.

Steve was about to lean in to kiss you when a slow clap began, started by Sharon.

You both looked around, surprised there was anyone else there. The music had stopped.

“Great job, Mr. Rogers. You made that look convincing.”

Sharon’s voice grated on your nerves but you had to laugh at your cousin giving her the gas face. You just rolled your eyes. Not even she could bring you down at the moment.

“SOB’s opened early just for us, we have another hour to dance and have fun. I’d love to talk more if you all are inspired. Have fun!”

Steve stood back and admired you, his creative queen, as the others swarmed around you.

—-

The way you moved made Steve Rogers feverish.

The sway of your hips hypnotized him and he had to concentrate very much to appear unbothered. The smell of you made his cock thicken and gotdamn, when you laughed his stomach did flips.

He’d pay a million dollars to the first person who convinced you to kiss him.

He’d pay you ten million for each kiss you’d give him willingly.

Steve was down bad.

The nail in his coffin was your creativity and bravery; the way you shared your opinions on your art and everything else made him mad with desire.

He now fully understood Bucky’s insistence to get fully clean. Steve was glad they were so close to the finish line and was willing to beat Bucky there.

Steve was determined to be the good man you once thought he was.

—---

Over the next couple of days, your heart raced each time you watched Steve across whatever rooms you were in. His six foot plus form dominated every space and his natural affinity for art was so fucking appealing.

You finally admitted to yourself that you were feeling him, although the issue of whether you could trust him would not die. But when he looked at you with those baby blues, you got weak. There was definitely a connection and a chemistry that you couldn’t resist for much longer.

You couldn’t deny it any more.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

—--

Sharon would not stop talking. You were unfortunate enough to sit near her on the Sprinter as it took you back to the hotel for the mid-day break on Wednesday. She was going on about her meeting with Steve to Lily from Montana.

Each recipient had meetings scheduled with Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, another requirement of the week. Frequently, the meetings included a meal. It must have been a dizzying pace for them, but you’d really enjoyed your coffee with Sam and lunch with Natasha. They were cool people.

And of course your dinner with Bucky was amazing. You couldn’t wait for him to be your cousin, although he remained coy about proposing no matter how much you pressed him about the holiday trip.

“I mean my meeting with Steve was convenient this morning. He was right there and we were already in our comfortable clothing… the breakfast place was perfect…”

Your ears perked up at that.

“I just woke up so sore this morning. It’s all Steve’s fault…and then he had the nerve to do it again…”

Your mind filled in the gaps and your blood started to boil.

This must be why he hadn’t been around that morning. He was recovering from fucking with Sharon. Rational thought was out the window and you couldn’t see anything but red.

Instead of going up to your room to rest, you walked the four blocks to the Rebirth building.

Your spine was straight and your chin was up as you entered the gallery, passed Natasha and headed to Steve’s office. He came to stand at the door as you approached, obviously warned that you were coming. He was in shirtsleeves, his black button-down clinging to his muscular frame, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.

You blinked because he looked dangerously, devastatingly handsome in a way that was almost too much to look at directly. His mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared. For a moment, you were frozen, ready to fuck him or spring into battle.

Just then, Bucky Barnes bounded out of a door near Steve’s, looking like a black lab, and headed in the same direction you were.

“Yo, Steve. I think that we should… oh shit! Peach!”

You couldn’t help but smile at Bucky, who looked cute in a black pullover with his curly hair tousled. Over Thanksgiving weekend, you’d grown to like him a lot.

Bucky Barnes obviously loved his friends. He also was a good guy, despite his line of work. The way he loved your cousin had earned your respect.

You smiled and held your hand out for him to shake.

“Hullo Bunny… eep!”

He pulled you toward him, drawing you into a hug and twirling you out into a salsa spin, causing you to laugh.

“It’s Bucky, Mr. Barnes if you’re nasty!”

You were shaking with laughter.

“Oh gawd! Does my cousin know that you are so corny?”

Bucky had mellowed your harsh.

Momentarily.

“It’s part of why she keeps coming back, Peach.”

Bucky winked at you and instantly you understood the appeal. You grinned up at Bucky, lightly slapping him on the arm as he laughed at you.

Someone cleared their throat and Bucky smirked over at Steve. Then, he caught the drift.

“I can see that you have important business to attend to with this Punk. Catch you later.”

Suddenly you didn’t want to have this conversation, because the way Steve was looking at you was too intense. You didn’t move. You felt Bucky’s warm hands on your shoulders and you were compelled to move forward.

“Onward. Into the fray.”

You glared over your shoulder at Bucky and then looked back at Steve.

“Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and he greeted you in kind.

“Ms. Y/LN. Is there something I can help you with?”

He walked into his office and you followed him, making sure to leave the door open. Steve's gaze slowly dragged down your body and back up again until it settled on your mouth. You felt that look like a physical touch, making your clothes feel irrelevant. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding them right there.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers. I need you to be honest with me.”

Normally, that was a throwaway comment, but Steve knew how important him being honest was to you, so he nodded, cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” while looking you in those beautiful eyes.

“Did you fuck Sharon Carter last night?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times to digest your question. Then he answered it. Blood rushed in his head.

I’m gonna kill the mutherfucker that said that, he thought. But he was calm when he replied.

“No. I was very much alone last night.”

Missing you, he thought.

“Did you fuck her this morning?”

Steve put his file down on his desk and leaned back on it, crossing his arms.

“Absolutely not. She showed up at my gym, for the second day in a row. I helped her with some technique and then had our meeting in a coffee shop. Who is spreading this rumor that’s got you so worked up?”

He would find the fucking liar and strangle them to death.

“That bitch is going around insinuating to everyone…”

Then you realized what was going on. You closed your mouth. Sharon.

That bitch. Why were you letting some hoe rag get to you?

“Never mind. You’re absolutely right. I don’t care.”

You raised your chin like the regal queen you were and Steve wanted to fall at your feet.

“Well for your information, I’m not interested in Sharon Carter. As a matter of fact…”

All I want is you.

Steve looked you in your eyes. God, you were so beautiful.

“I’m taken.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a feeling in between panic and jealousy furled in your stomach at those words. As he looked at you, understanding dawned about what he meant.

This conversation was not going the way you intended it to.

Your eyes moved to avoid Steve’s and it was then you noticed Bucky leaning on Steve’s door frame and snacking while he watched you two.

“Popcorn? Really Bucky???”

Bucky extended the bag to you.

“‘SmartPop. Want some?”

Steve went over and closed the door in Bucky’s face and then turned back to you. You noticed how his bicep bulged when he ran his hand through his hair and your nipples tightened into stiff peaks.

“Sorry to that woman.”

You played dumb, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. But Steve clocked you. He shook his head and chuckled.

You crossed your arms and jutted your hip out.

“What?...What, Steven!?”

You were the most adorable human he’d ever seen.

“Nothing.”

You turned around to leave and then whirled around again.

“And another thing!”

Steve was smirking now.

“You upgraded me on the airline and at the hotel. Didn’t you? And you gave me more endowment than anyone else. You’re just trying to get in my pants again.”

Steve sighed.

“Okay, so first I fucked Sharon, now I’m trying to get in your pants. You’re going from one extreme to another.”

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

Steve clenched his jaw, but his voice remained even. He really wanted to grab you and spread you over his desk and give you his cock until you calmed down. But baby steps.

He stepped to you and you looking up at him was his Roman Empire.

“You. Are. Wrong.”

His glare was blue ice and you felt just a little bit afraid.

And a lot turned on.

“Do you realize that your cousin helped us out with travel and accommodations?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t get more than anyone else. Russ received $250,000. Awards were scaled according to the project.”

“Ah.”

“And I don’t just want to get in your pants. I want so much more.”

You stood there dumbfounded.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Steve gave you a rueful smile.

“Stop pretending you don’t know. Peach, I–”

You raised your hand to signal stop.

“Ain't nobody got time for this.”

He gazed at you with a sparkle in his eye and licked those red, red lips. But he put his hands up and backed away, still smiling.

“Also. Stop doing that!”

You waved your hand in the direction of this face. You needed him to stop looking at you like that.

He was trying to hold himself back. Your lunacy had him hard. And you not letting him tell you how he felt made him want to make you beg for him. He shook his head to clear his lust.

“Just what am I doing to you, Ms. YLN?”

That voice again. Your eyes shuttered and your pussy pulsed at the answer to that question, but you were determined to get him told.

“Sparkling those eyes down at me like that!”

“Sparkling my eyes…?”

Steve feigned annoyance, but he was enjoying the fuck out of this.

“What does that even mean?”

“You know exactly what it means! Looking at me like.. Like.. like you…Just. Stop.”

He stopped smiling.

“As you wish.”

Steve’s eyes roamed over your face, pausing to look at your lips. Then, he looked back up into your eyes and the sparkle was gone. It was replaced by a warm blue fire that for some reason caused you to shiver. You wanted to fall into it and his arms, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Nope. Don’t do that either.”

Steve huffed as the corner of his mouth hooked upward into a sexy side grin. Your panties couldn’t take it.

“Do wh–? Umph. Ummhmmhhmm!”

You put your hand over Steve’s mouth to stop him from assaulting you with his voice but he kept vocalizing. You realized that Steve’s hand was on your waist and was pulling you closer to him.

Your breasts were pressed up against his rock hard torso and your hand was on his chest. Lord help you, all you needed to do was remove your hand. You stared into those blue depths for half a second and then moved back.

Steve licked his lips when your hand was gone and your body buzzed as he contemplated pulling you back into his arms.

When that look came into his eyes, you gave up.

“Ugh. Never mind. I’ve got to go.”

You straightened your spine again, turned on your heel and marched toward the door.

Steve followed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Bucky was pumping his fist as you made to leave the building. You thought about giving him a piece of your mind, but you had to get out of there; Steve was close behind.

“Peach. Stop running. Calm down.”

You stopped and whirled on him, poking your finger in his chest.

“NEVER tell a mad woman to calm down, Rogers.”

He smiled down at you and your world spun out.

“So you admit that you’re crazy?”

“Fuck you!”

You turned and walked toward your hotel at a steady pace but Steve was right behind you. He followed you back to your hotel lobby and was right there when you pressed the elevator button.

“What do you want, Steve?”

You sideyed him as you looked up at the floor indicator panel.

“You.”

You whipped your head around as the elevator doors opened. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. But then you just wordlessly walked into the elevator as Steve followed closely.

“You feel this thing between us, Peach. I’m not alone in this. I know I’m not.”

He moved close to you as the elevator doors closed, placing one arm on the wall near your head and the other on the railing beside you. You were enveloped in him. But when you looked up at him. Jesus.

“You wish. You think you’re god’s gift to women, Rogers?”

Your whisper was fervent.Your heart was beating out of your chest and your cunt was soaking wet. The electricity was arcing between you in the small space. You felt it in the small of your back.

“Judging by the way you look at me, Peach. I’d say you wish, too.”

You shifted, trying to rub your legs together on the low. There was an ache you needed extinguished.

“Boy, please...”

You were still trying to fight it as Steve moved close, his lips a breath from your ear.

“Not all women. Just you. And you don’t need to beg. Just ask for what you want, Peach.”

He pulled back and you almost chased him, but bit your lip and tried to remain calm.

“I don’t want anything from you, Steven.”

“Now, you’re the liar.” Steve intoned, his jaw working tightly.

When the elevator door opened, you ran out, moving quickly down the hallway to your room. You stood in front of your door and stared at Steve, not opening the door and not speaking.

He looked down the hallway and spoke, anger laced in his tone.

“Open the fucking door and get your sweet ass in that room, Peach.”

You tried to stare him down, but he was determined. And something in those blue eyes made you want to comply.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Your hands shook as you opened your door with Steve breathing down your neck, reminiscent of that night in Atlanta.

Once the door was closed, he stalked toward you, tipping up your chin to meet his intense gaze. His thumb brushed your bottom lip and you suppressed a shudder.

No one had ever made you feel this way with just a touch.

“What do you want from me?”

Your voice was barely a whisper.

Steve leaned in close to reply, his breath fanning your face.

“Stop fucking running from me. I apologize for all the things I’ve done. But now I’m underwater and I’m drowning in my feelings for you.”

Your resistance were just bare thread now. And the last ones frayed into nothing at his proximity.

“Prove it,” you said as you met his gaze.

Steve’s eyes glinted with something you couldn’t read, and his hand moved to your waist.

“Careful now, Peach,” he murmured and bent his head, still not quite kissing you, but driving you crazy.

“You don’t scare me,” you whispered.

“No?”

His hand was on your back now, moving you impossibly closer.

“I think that I do. I think the feelings you have for me terrify you.”

His lush lips crashed down on yours, and you were completely lost to the way he devoured you, all heat and hunger and lust. Your tongues tangled and danced, and you moaned into his mouth.

Steve broke away to nip down your jaw.

“Taste so fucking sweet, Peach. ‘S all I could think about this past month.”

His hands slid down your body to palm your ass, pulling you close and making you feel how hard he was for you. Damn he was big. He was right, you’d probably struggle to take him, but god you wanted to try right now.

Slowly, Steve lowered his head again, watching you intently as his lips capture yours. The kiss started off slow and delicious, then it deepened, growing more passionate, more demanding. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him closer. And when you came up for air, you were both breathing hard. He leaned his forehead on yours.

“I want every single part of you, Peach,” he said roughly. “Not just your body.”

Your heart swelled. There was no more holding back now.

“D’you think you can… can you think about trusting me with your heart?”

You hesitated and he knew he needed to get you not to get back in your head. He settled into the large couch and pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body was like nothing else.

“You feel fucking amazing.”

Before he knew it, Steve wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you down to his mouth. He nipped at your lower lip, then soothed the tender flesh with his tongue, leaving you a trembling mess.

He lifted his hand and ran a finger down the side of your neck; the touch was light but somehow burned.

“Tell me you don’t think about being mine?”

You only whimper in answer, your stubbornness still in control.

He shook his head as he leaned down and followed the trail of his finger with his lips.

It felt so good that you tilted your head to the side with a soft sigh, giving him better access. Steve took full advantage, trailing kisses back up to the sensitive spot behind your ear that made you shiver.

“Fuck, Steve.”

You hooked your leg around his waist and rolled your hips against his like he was a pole. You arched your back and attempted to ride him to get some satisfaction to your core, which was

aching and weeping.

“No. We’re not gonna fuck. Not until you tell me you’re mine. But we can play.”

He arched a dark blonde eyebrow as he kissed down your cleavage and one big hand cupped your breast over your shirt and the other reached down to slip inside your panties.

“You wanna play, Peach? You’re absolutely soaked Sweetheart. Want me to make you feel good?”

It was his one mission in life, and he could do it all day, bring you pleasure.

You pouted up at him, but you couldn’t resist. This high was too addictive.

“Yes, Stevie. Please. Make me feel good.”

He growled lowly when you arched into his touch. You felt the hard length of him pressing against your core, and you reached down to palm him through his pants.

“Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Suddenly, your bra was pulled down and his mouth was closing over your nipple, sucking and teasing. He moved lower, getting on his knees beside the couch.

He stopped manhandling you long enough to unbutton his shirt and damn, did you pay attention.

You bit your finger as those muscular shoulders and biceps and chest came into view. Your eyes followed the happy trail that flowed down his six pack and damn the bugle in his pants was big.

That shocked look on your face when you met his eyes again was so hot that Steve wanted to fucking ruin you, but he decided have settle for just tasting you.

“Don’t want you to get my shirt wet, Sweetheart.”

He winked and then reached underneath your skirt to find your panties.

You scrambled up on your hands and scoffed.

“It’s like that?”

Steve grabbed your thighs and pulled them apart, making your skirt ride up.

You leaned back and smiled as he winked and nodded.

He hiked your legs over his shoulders and a second later, his mouth was between them, his tongue teasing the skin near where you really wanted him to be.

You grabbed his hair and ground against his face, already desperate for more. And when he licked straight through the center of you, a scream started in your throat but you stifled it, looking down to see Steve’s eyes twinkle up at you.

He kept you pinned against the couch, gripping your hips with those big, strong hands and holding you in place. His tongue traveled up and down your slit, between your folds, and slid inside your wet cunt.

Your entire body trembled as his tongue toyed with your clit. You felt his smile as he started circling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves.

“Fuck! Give me more!”

Your eyes rolled as two of his long thick fingers entered you and scissored before quickly finding the pile of sensitive flesh inside you. He massaged it and at the same time leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth. It was at that point that your orgasm hit you like a wave.

“Steveeeee! Godddd!”

You screamed as your pussy simultaneously clenched and squirted fluid into Steve’s waiting mouth. Your vision went white, and all the air was sucked out of the room.

Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus. Steve kissed the inside of your thigh, then stood up, watching you with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“The way you scream my name makes a man wanna buy you jewels Peach.”

His beard was wet and his voice was raspy, but you reached for him and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your essence on his tongue.

Then, he pulled away and found your bathroom. You stared at the ceiling as the water ran and you assumed he was cleaning up. He returned with his shirt on and a warm towel to help you clean up.

He watched as you shed your clothes, sensuality on display only for him. You reached for his pants and he grabbed your wrists, shaking his head.

“Like I said. That was fun. But you’ve got to make a decision, Peach. Do you want me like I want you?”

The words were right there in your throat, but they refused to come out.

You just stared at him.

Steve smiled at you ruefully.

“Okay. It’s all right. I’m not giving up. Just giving you space.”

He handed you the fluffy white robe that was in the bathroom and you put it on to follow him to the door of your suite.

“See you tomorrow after the Summit for our meeting.”

He kissed you goodbye on the cheek and the dance you and Steve Rogers did continued as you watched him walk away from you.

——-

Hope you liked it! Interaction gives me lifeeeeee! Read, comment, reblog, like. TIA 🥰

Read the next part, Peach VI

#steve rogers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #Chris Evans #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!steve rogers #mob boss!Bucky Barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #kyd ask #ask dj #peach fic #knock you down fic

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herstoriies · 21 days ago

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Stand and Deliver! I mean nobody asked for this but I delivered: pre-starlet Diva! Priscilla in her understudy of an understudy “pants role” of Cherubino in Le Nozze Di Figaro! 😆

The pensive romantic surely singing “Voi Che Sapete”, being discovered hiding under a blanket on a chair, and simultaneously being enlisted into the military by the Count Almaviva and “bullied” (affectionate) by Frigaro! XD

Pris has flawless calves and ankles ✨ oh my so scandalous!

#+ my art #v: my center stage

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yearsbecomingcool · 2 months ago

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thrill me, chill me, fulfill me | simon kalivoda

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | college au!simon x co-worker!reader

synopsis | simon has gone off to college and started working at a movie theater where he meets you. it doesn't take long for him to fall to you and one thing leads to another and he's on his knees in front of you in the office.

warnings | 18+!!!! mdni!!!, sexual content, semi-public sex, subby!simon, oral f!receiving, dom!reader, f!reader, public humiliation, sexual fantasies, mentions of piv, attempted footjob, we're getting into pet-lay territory with some of this dialogue, reader calls simon 'puppy', dry humping, and a fluffy ending.

word count | 7.1k

a/n | i love rocky horror so much and i feel like simon would love it too so all the sequences at the rocky horror screening were so much fun. i still haven't been able to go to a screening but it seems so fun. i also had to make him work at a theater because the movie theater is my happy place and i have to throw my interests in somehow!!

taglist | @slaytheusurper

Simon Kalivoda had managed to do the impossible, he graduated high school and got the fuck out of Shadyside…temporarily at least. He’d gotten into Kent State and was sad he didn’t have the grades to join Kate somewhere better but he’d take what he could get. He’d saved up enough money from his years working at the grocery store to put down a deposit for an apartment near campus and started his summer off by applying at as many places near campus as possible. The first one to call him back was a family owned movie theater by campus, they were known for hosting screenings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and tons of midnight movies. He quickly took the job and that’s where he met you.

His first shift was one of the midnight shadow cast screenings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. He had no idea what he was in for, but you spent the first hour of your shift getting him caught up. You leaned against the concession counter, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. “All these people are gonna come in looking like they came from those cool queer clubs in New York. They’re nice but one of the biggest parts of this is making a total mess so it’s gonna be a bitch to clean but they tip great. They throw rice, newspapers, confetti, toilet paper, toast, and cards. A few people have been known to throw hot dogs and prunes too so be on the lookout for that. They bring in water guns and all kinds of shit, it’s a whole thing.”

“And Eli is okay with that?” Simon asks, slack jawed. He can’t believe the owner would be okay with patrons making such a mess.

“It’s good for business and it’s fun, he’d never admit it but I always see him go into the theater when it starts, he loooooves that shit. I’ve gone on nights off before, it is pretty fun. They have a whole ritual for virgins, people who’ve never gone to one of those midnight showings, it’s humiliating…and a little fun.”

“Did you have to do that ritual?” Simon is pretty intrigued.

“Oh yeah. I came in with my fishnets and sequin hot pants thinking I could be unnoticed but the people who run these remember everybody. They put a giant V on my forehead in red lipstick when I walked in and they pulled me and all the other ‘virgins’ up on stage. They really like the shy ones, which of course I was. They made all of us fake an orgasm and the two they liked best got pulled up for the wedding scene to be Ralph and Betty.”

Simon tilts his head like a puppy, “How’d you do?” He has a stupid little smirk on his face when he says it.

“Let’s just say I made the best Betty Monroe this town has ever seen.” He throws his head back and laughs in a way that makes you wanna kiss him.

“Laugh it up for now but next screening I’m making sure you’re off and I’ll be front and center to watch them pull you up there. Just how good of an actor are you, Simon?”

He smirks, “You’ll just have to wait for my debut.

You and Simon become friends quite quickly, you’re both around the same age and soak up movie knowledge like a sponge. Your slow shifts are spent going head to head in movie trivia and arguing over franchises and sequels.

“There’s no way you think the Nightmare on Elm Street films are better than the Friday the 13th films, you’re full of shit Simon!”

“The only thing I’m full of is correct opinions. Jason is boring, he doesn’t ever talk. Freddy could kill him easily,” Simon retorts, pointing his twizzler at you.

You smack the twizzler, “Bullshit! Freddy can only get people in their dreams, does Jason even sleep?”

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it soon after, he reaches up and scratches his head. “Wait, fuck, does he sleep? I think you just destroyed my whole argument here…”

“Maybe it’s a draw? If Jason can’t sleep they can’t fight…” You trail off.

“Whatever. Nightmare is still better than Friday, Freddy makes the movies. What does Jason have besides dumb teenagers having sex and getting killed with a machete?”

Before you can respond someone slaps the bell on the counter, “Shouldn’t you two be working?” It’s Eli, the owner and lead manager of the theater. He doesn’t look too amused by your bickering with Simon.

“Sorry Eli…I’ll go clean the bathroom or something…” You mutter, slipping out from behind the counter and heading for the supply closet. Simon watches you as you walk off and Eli rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers in front of Simon’s face.

“You need to be more subtle, y'know. I know she’s a pretty little thing but I didn’t hire you to stare all day, start restocking. You’re a good employee, don’t fuck it up with some silly little workplace romance. I’ve seen enough fizzle out to know how they all end, I don’t feel like losing either one of my best employees this year.”

Simon sighs and salutes Eli, “You got it boss. I’ll stick to fantasizing about the girls on the posters instead.”

“Better,” Eli jokes before heading to his office.

As the school year was starting up along came another Rocky Horror showing. You’d pulled some strings and managed to get Simon off work that night just like you’d promised. He had freaked out over what to wear but you told him whatever he wore would be fine since you’d be doing his makeup anyway. He settled on a black blazer, black jeans, a band t-shirt, and his signature combat boots. He met you at your dorm like you insisted so you could help him get ready. He maneuvered through the halls until he’d found your room. A small whiteboard hung on the door, your name written in big blocky letters. You had a small dry erase marker hanging on the door for people to write or draw on it. Before knocking on your door Simon uncapped the marker and drew a little smiley face under your name. He knocks on your door and his eyes go wide when he sees you. You’re standing in front of him in a loose black corset that you’re holding against your chest, a pair of tiny rainbow sequin shorts, a pair of fishnets, and some platform boots. “Great timing, I needed someone to lace me up!” You pull him into your dorm room, shutting the door behind him. His eyes wander around your room, clothes spill out of the small laundry basket near your open closet door, posters you’ve taken home from the theater line your walls. You’ve got a framed poster of ‘Serial Mom’ hanging above your bed. You nod your head towards it, “Eli got me into John Waters when I started working at the theater, he gave me that framed poster to celebrate my one year anniversary of working at the theater.”

“That’s so cool of him…I can’t say I’ve ever seen Serial Mom.”

“I’ve got it on tape, we’ll watch it sometime. But for now can you lace me up?” You ask, turning your back to him. The laces of your corset hang loose down your back. His eyes wander lower than they should and he briefly admires how your ass looks in those shorts, the bottoms of your cheeks hanging out just enough for his mind to go crazy. He clears his throat and begins to pull at the laces, he doesn’t pull tight enough, feeling scared to hurt you.

“Pull harder, you won’t hurt me, promise. I just really don’t need to flash anyone tonight more than I already am,” you laugh.

His face is flushed and his hands tremble as he pulls the strings tighter and tighter against your skin. You bend forward in a way that makes his breath get caught in his throat, “Pull as hard as you can, I’m serious.” He gulps and obeys, pulling the strings as hard as he can. You whimper softly as he does, “There we go…tie it for me.” He carefully ties the things of the corset, double knotting it just to be sure it’s secure. He takes a step back when he’s done and watches as you stand up straight, checking that it fits right. You turn back to him with a smile, “Thank you! Now let’s get you ready, yeah? Sit on the bed for me.”

Simon sits down on the bed obediently, eyes following you as you go over to your desk and rifle through your makeup drawer until you find what you’re looking for. You set a small eyeshadow palette and a few brushes on the bed next to Simon, holding a gel eyeliner pen in your hands. You stand between his legs and bend down, “I’m gonna make you pretty. Just do what I say so it doesn’t get fucked up, ‘kay?”

He nods in response, trying to keep eye contact and not let his eyes wander.

“Look up for me, this is gonna feel weird but I won’t hurt you.” As Simon looks up you very carefully apply the black eyeliner to his waterline, his face scrunches up as he tries desperately not to blink.

“Fuck this feels weird!” Simon exclaims, his hands balled up into fists against the comforter.

“I’m sorry! Sorry! I’ll try to speed it up, let me just…” You quickly outline about halfway under both eyes before playing the eyeliner down and reaching for your eyeshadow palette and a small brush. You smoke out the line beneath his eye before applying a soft silver shimmer to both eyes. After that you start on his top lids, you hold him by the chin as you lean towards him. “This is gonna feel awful but please don’t move.”

“You owe for this,” Simon mutters, enjoying the feeling of you holding him in place.

“Whatever you say…” You start quickly applying eyeliner to his upper waterline and he groans in discomfort.

“Oh what the fuck?! What are you doing?!” He yelps, hands reaching forward for your waist. His hands curl into the fabric of your shorts.

“Simon, stop! Fuck…just let me…can you lay down? It might make it easier on both of us.”

“I uhh…yeah…sure just uh…w-whatever you need to do…” He stumbles over his words, laying back on your twin sized bed. You climb onto him, straddling his hips. You lean over him and giggle when you look down at him, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s um…it’s fine.” He prays you don’t notice how red he is. You notice.

You lean down towards him to finish applying the eyeliner to his waterline. His hands grip your hips and his breathing is unsteady, this having an effect on him and you love it. You’ve always been into the submissive types, a strong muscled man who takes charge has never really done it for you. The dorky guys who would do anything you said no matter what are more for you. When Simon was first hired you were instantly intrigued. You begged Eli to put him with you for his first shift and he did. He was witty enough to keep up with you but intimidated enough to let you order him around, he was just what you’d been wanting. “Close your eyes for me.” You watch as he obeys and you apply a thin line of eyeliner onto his eyelids, just barely peeking above his lash line. You smoke it out with the same black eyeshadow from before and then take a silver glitter and apply it to his inner corner. You add mascara as a final step before rolling off him, “Go see what you think.” You smile over at him as he gets up from the bed and goes over to your vanity mirror to look. His jaw drops and his eyes widen as he looks at himself in the mirror.

“Oh shit! I look…hot?” This is the confidence he needs for the rest of the night to not fall to his knees and beg you to kiss him. In high school he’d always act more confident than he really was, he pretended he was some smooth ladies man and women would just fall to his feet. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. The most action he’d get was a few girls flirting to try and get lower prices on whatever pills they were buying off him that week. Well that’s not entirely true. He wasn’t a virgin, he’d lost his virginity when he was 16. It wasn’t anything special, a nervous hookup with a girl he met at a party. They were both nervous and it was sloppy, fine but forgettable. His hand had really been the only one to keep him company as the years went on.

You laugh and walk over to him, grabbing him by his shoulder to turn him towards you. You take a look examining his face carefully, “I think you need some blush.” You shove him down into your desk chair and look through your makeup for a shade that’ll look nice on him. He hardly needs it though after how you manhandled him. You come back over with a soft pink shade and a brush. You apply the blush, careful to not add too much. You use it almost as a contour, following his bones structure and fanning it out onto his cheeks. You turn the chair for him to look back into the mirror, “Now you look really hot.”

“Woah…I do…goddamn. The only other makeup I’ve worn before was like…green face paint in high school and some black on my eyebrows. I uh, I used to be my school's mascot. We were the witches,” he explains.

“I can totally imagine you as a school mascot, you have that energy,” you say as you put away your makeup.

“Thanks…I think?”

“I meant that in a good way, I swear!” You say defensively as you stroll over to your closet looking for a jacket. You hold up two options for Simon to choose from, a black leather jacket and a black blazer. “Which one do you think?”

Simon thinks for a minute examining his options, if you wore the blazer you could kind of match him but the leather jacket would look cool too. “Uhh…blazer, definitely the blazer.”

“Good choice, we can match. You shove the leather jacket back into the closet and slip on the blazer. It’s longer than Simon expected, falling just above your shorts. It looks like you may as well be pantless, not that he’s complaining of course.

You sit on your bed with a handwritten list of call outs and prop instructions. You made a bag of props for you and Simon to share as well. Simon scoots the chair closer to take a look. He smiles at your messy handwriting and the stickers that adorn the sheet. The top reads ‘A Virgin’s Guide to Rocky Horror’. He’s more than happy that the blush you applied earlier conceals his actual blushing. You hand the list to him, your fingers brushing as you do. You’ve obviously touched before but every touch after you straddled him earlier makes him feel like he’s on fire. “I made it for you, it’s way too much to memorize for your first time so you can just read it off whenever it’s time.” You give him a soft smile, taking a second to admire how the eyeliner makes his blue eyes pop.

“Thank you, seriously you didn’t have to do all this.” Simon was worried about making friends when he went off to college, it felt weird to be separated from Kate and Deena after being friends for so long. Thanks to you he didn’t need to worry anymore, you welcomed him on his first day at work like you had been friends for years.

“I know but I couldn’t have you looking stupid, could I?” You laugh, reaching for your purse. You look through it until you find your bright red lipstick, the exact one you’re wearing right now. You lean forward, signaling him to lean down. “Almost forgot…” You uncap the lipstick and draw a giant red V on his forehead. “There, look’s complete now.”

“What happened to make sure I didn’t look stupid?” He groans, leaning back in his chair.

“Hey! It’s tradition, don’t blame me. It was gonna end up on you one way or another. Just be thankful I got it over with now, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “Can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna have a great time and you look hot, seriously everyone is gonna go crazy for that eyeliner. You should be thanking me honestly, if at least one person doesn’t ask for your number tonight I’ll be shocked. I mean seriously, look at you.” You motion to him.

He feels his cheeks heat up and his mouth go dry. He doesn’t know how to say he wants it to be you who asks for his number, he wants it to be you who kisses him in the theater bathroom and messes up his hair in the process. Instead he chuckles, “We’ll see.”

“Don’t let me leave disappointed, pretty boy.” You ruffle his hair playfully, he wishes you’d tug him by it and pull him into a kiss instead.

The drive to the theater is more nerve wracking than he’d like to admit. Five minutes of pure anxiety as you try to quickly explain the film to him. “Fuck it’s so sexy and fun, it changed my life when I first watched it. My parents are total conservatives, they hate anything fun and liberating, so I watched it for the first time at a friend's house. It completely changed my life. I stopped really giving a shit about what my parents and all those other conservative losers thought about me and started living for me. I’ve never looked back since.”

“I’ve kind of done the same. Shadyside was kind of a nightmare to live in. All those Sunnyvale kids judged us just for where we were born, it was fucked. I think I stopped caring just to spite them and their stuck up attitudes, y’know?”

You turn to look at him, interested in learning more. “What was Shadyside like? I mean I’ve heard all these stories over the years, it’s murder capital of the country after all…”

He parks the car and turns to you, “It was just like every other boring small town in America. Every couple of years there’d be some murders, my senior year it was Ryan Torres killing Heather Watkins and a couple other mall employees. I guess growing up like that you get a little…numb to it I guess? I know that sounds bad but as soon as one happened everyone at school would joke around about it, I guess it’s how we coped with it.”

You nod in understanding, “I get that, the whole joking around part. My family does the same. At a certain point it’s really all you can do.”

Simon unbuckles his seat belt, “As fun as it is to talk about death with you I think we should get in line, it looks like it’s already pretty long.” He nods towards the line and you unbuckle and grab the prop bag from the backseat. You walk together towards the longline of movie goers.

“Damn, looks like a great turn out. Are you ready to give them a show?” You joke.

He looks at you in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Did you forget about the initiation for virgins?” You giggle.

“Fuck…” He mutters. He did in fact forget.

“Oh babe you’re in for it tonight…”

As everyone trickles into the theatre Simon and the other virgins are pulled to the stage. You take a seat in the middle near the audience and put your prop bag in a seat to save it for Simon. He’s nervously holding his hands in front of him as the announcer begins to speak. “Welcome everyone to another showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” They pause as the crowd erupts into cheers. “We have some fresh virgins here to provide us with our favorite pre-show entertainment. We’ll be seeing who can fake an orgasm the best. Why don’t you all introduce yourselves to the crowd before we begin?” They pass the microphone to the girl standing closest to them, she’s dressed like Janet at the beginning of the film. Her nervousness is clear on her face. Simon is fourth in line and he puts on an act of confidence when it’s his turn, “I’m, Simon. I’m gonna win this little competition, trust me.” You raise your eyebrows at his confidence, now you really want to see what he has in store.

Finally everyone has finished introducing themselves and the mic is handed back to the host, “Now why don’t we get this started. Simon,” they point towards him as he stands in the middle of the lineup, “Why don’t you start us off since you’re so confident.” His cheeks go red with embarrassment, even with his blush on it’s clear thanks to the unrelenting glow of the spotlight. He’s really regretting his words, sure he’s always been a class clown but this audience is packed. He laughs nervously as he’s handed the microphone. “Uhh okay…”

The silence of the crowd does nothing to calm his nerves, so you decide to yell some encouragement. “C’mon baby! Give me some shower head material!” The crowd laughs but it seems to help Simon as he recognizes your voice.

He bites his lip and closes his eyes, he’ll feel better if he doesn’t look. He decides he’ll give a little build up, whimpering pathetically into the mic. He imagines you riding him, his hands on your hips as he begs you to let him come. He starts to moan into the mic, getting louder and louder before mumbling, “Oh fuck…” He moans and whines dramatically into the mic, falling to his knees and throwing his head back. He pants and whimpers as if it’s the real thing. You can feel a wet spot growing in your panties, you know he just gave you the best damn shower head material of your life. Once he’s done he stands and bows, his cheeks flushed. He hands the mic back to the presenter as everyone claps and cheers. He spots you in the crowd and teasingly blows you a kiss.

“Well whoever is gonna be on top of him tonight is in for a treat, huh? I think that’ll be pretty tough to beat.” The rest of the virgins have their turns, none nearly as impressive as Simon. They end up choosing some girl dressed as Magenta to play Betty and of course pick Simon to play Ralph. He stays up at the front until after he’s gone up on stage for the wedding scene. You can’t help but feel a bit jealous as you watch him stand hand in hand with the other winner, she looks at him hungrily. You weren’t the only one impressed by his performance. Once their scene is over he runs back into the audience to find you. When he does you pull him down into the seat and kiss his cheek, leaving a red lip print. “You were fucking hot. I told you someone’s getting your number tonight.”

He laughs and whispers, “They might ask for it but I’m not giving it out to just anyone.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Got your eye on someone?”

He shrugs, “I might.”

Once the movie is over you and Simon head to the local diner down the street from the theater. The winning girl had tried to approach him after the movie but you were quick to pull him away. Sure it was selfish but you couldn’t give a fuck. You wanted him for yourself even if you were too cowardly to make a move yet. You sat across from him in the booth, you shared a basket of fries together as you talked. “So? Did you have fun?” You dip your fry into the small tin of ketchup as you put your feet up next to where he sits.

He smiles, “I had a great time. The uhh,” he lowers his voice, “competition was a little embarrassing but your encouragement helped me out actually.”

“Well I had to say you definitely succeeded in giving me some shower head material so thanks for that,” you joke.

He chokes on his sprite, “W-What-”

You stifle your laughter, “Calm down, I’m kidding! But you were pretty impressive, as a former winner myself I have to give you that.”

He smirks down at the table, clearly trying to make up his mind on something. “Am I ever gonna get to see your performance or?”

Now it’s your turn for your face to heat up in embarrassment, you drop your fry back into the basket. “Uhh…I guess you’ll have to really earn it out of me.”

“Right here?” He cocks eyebrow and looks at you teasingly.

“What would you even do?”

He leans back and crosses his arms, looking around to make sure your section is empty. “Well…I could always get on my knees under the table. Spread your legs apart and pull down your shorts. I could tear a hole in those fishnets and maybe I could be mean and tease you through your underwear. Eventually I’d move them to the side or maybe I’d fully pull them down and eat you out and really earn it out of you.”

Your jaw drops, you want him right here in this diner and you don’t give a fuck who sees. “W-Would you-”

“Not here. You’d be too loud,” he says smugly.

“You sound so sure you could get me that loud,” you snap back. You move your foot off the seat and use it to kick his legs apart under the table. You slowly start to trail your boot up his leg.

“I-I could! Y-You’d-” He yelps when the toe of your boot presses against his inner thigh.

“I’d what, Simon?” You ask innocently. You start to move the toe of your boot towards his crotch, enjoying how he squirms in his seat. “You’re not so tough now, huh?” You lightly press the toe of your boot against his crotch, smirking as he bites his lip to stay quiet.

“You wanna get out of here?” You giggle.

He nods quickly, throwing a twenty on the table and standing up quickly. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, pushing you in front of him as he leads you to his car. As soon as you get in the car you’re on him. You kiss him hard, tugging at his hair as he leans against the console to reach you. He whines against your lips and you smirk against him, tugging harder at his hair. You love when he whines. You’re just about to move to his neck when there’s a knock on the window and the shine of a flashlight coming through. You groan as you pull away from him, “Not the fucking pigs…”

Simon sighs and turns towards the window, rolling it down for the cop standing outside the car. “Hi officer…” he says through gritted teeth.

“License and registration please,” the cop says emotionlessly. He leans his head down, looking at you, “License from you too, now.”

You both try to keep neutral faces as you look for your IDs and Simon looks for his registration, he hands them over to the cop once you’ve found them and the cop takes a look. “You know if I let you go any further I could’ve charged you both with public indecency and exposure.”

You both hang your heads shamefully, “Yes, officer. We’re very sorry,” you say.

He continues to lecture the both of you before finally letting you go. Once Simon has started to drive off back to your dorm you’re both howling with laughter. “Holy shit! Cock blocked by the pigs…can’t say that’s ever happened before!” He laughs.

“I can’t say it’s happened to me either…the RA’s are pretty strict about late night guests so I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap this up. You think I gave you enough to manage?”

He rolls his eyes at you, “Yeah yeah, me and my hand will have a nice conversation about the way you were about to give me a footjob.”

“Me and my shower head will have a conversation about that orgasm you faked on stage.”

“Promise?”

You nod, “Mhm, I was serious. That was some top tier shower head material, babe.”

“I tried, I really did.” He looks proud of himself.

“Oh I could tell.”

He pulls into a parking spot outside your dorm. “So, when am I seeing you again?”

You groan and run a hand through your hair, “You’re gonna hate me but probably not till our next shift together. You work thursday?”

He nods, “Mhm, closing shift.”

You smile, “Me too, looks like I’ll be seeing you then.”

He smiles and leans forward, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. It’s not as needy as before, it’s sweet and soft instead. You kiss him back just as soft, if you could you’d kiss him for the rest of your life. When he pulls away he’s smiling like he just had his first kiss, “I’ll be thinking of you.”

“So will I. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you Thursday.” You hop out of his car and wave goodbye as you head back up to your dorm. As soon as you get inside you’re stripping off your clothes and making a beeline for the shower. You’re lucky enough to have a detachable shower head and you put it to good use just like you promised. It doesn’t take long for you to cry out his name and hold onto the wall to stabilize yourself. You’re looking forward to the next time you’ll get your hands on him.

Thursday finally rolls around and it’s an absolute nightmare of a shift. There’s something sinister in the air that has kids vomiting, teenagers talking through movies, and best of all adults fighting at a screening of Showgirls of all movies. It’s safe to say that you and Simon don’t get much time together. You’re taking turns taking care of whatever problem pops up while the other tries to work the snack bar as quickly and efficiently as possible. It’s not till you get everyone out of the building that a slight sense of peace washes over you. You and Simon are taking your time to clean up each theater. Once you’re finally alone in the lobby with Simon you open your mouth to start a conversation but Eli interrupts before you can even get a word out.

“I’ve got a family emergency going on. I trust you both to lock up and count the money. Don’t fuck it up, yeah?” He says quickly before tossing the keys to Simon and heading for the door. Simon runs to lock the doors behind him, finally making his way over to you. Simon leans against the counter, admiring how you look in the outfit you chose today. You’re grateful there’s no uniform and that the dress code is so relaxed. You’re in a black sweater and a black skirt that sits just above your knee. Simon has spent his whole shift imagining getting down on his knees and hiking it up to eat you out. If he had a little less self control he might’ve pulled you into the supply closet to lift it up and get a peek at what panties you were wearing that night.

“We’re finally fucking alone…” He mutters, taking his time as he looks you up and down.

“This is close to being the worst shift I’ve ever worked,” You groan, leaning forward against the counter.

“Well…since we have the keys to the office do you wanna go watch those guys fighting from earlier?”

Your eyes light up with excitement, a wide grin spreading across your face. “Oh hell yes! Let me grab some popcorn first, they looked pretty bloody getting escorted out so I know this is gonna be some good shit!” You grab a small tub and fill it with popcorn, slathering it in butter. You walk with Simon to the office, making yourselves comfortable on some rolly chairs. You watch as Simon figures out how to reverse the cameras, going back until he finds right before the fight starts. The film played on the big screen when a man leaned over to a woman to say something, the man in the row behind him threw a handful of popcorn at them, a valid reaction to someone talking during a movie. It doesn’t take long for the man sitting behind the couple to drag the other guy out of his seat, a fight breaking out instantaneously, “Goddamn!” Simon grabs the popcorn bucket from your hands, spilling butter onto your exposed legs in the process.

You groan, “Simon you got butter all over my legs, what the hell?!” You reach for a napkin but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

He looks at you with a smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.” You watch as he pauses the camera footage and gets out of his chair, sinking to his knees in front of you.

“What the hell are you-”

He cuts you off by spreading your thighs, “I told you, I’m gonna clean you up.” You watch with wide eyes as he starts by licking the butter that splashed onto your knees, he’s thorough about it, making sure he gets every last bit of it. He slowly moves his way up your legs as you watch, biting your lower lip softly. “Pull your skirt back.”

You mindlessly do as he says, spreading your legs wider instinctively. He can see your underwear now, plain black cotton panties with a lace edge, a small white flower sewn onto the front. He licks up your thighs, getting closer and closer to your core as he cleans you up. Soon you can feel his breath against your core, he turns his head to kiss your inner thighs. What starts as soft kisses quickly turns into him leaving an array of hickeys on your inner thighs. He’s marking you possessively. You reach down and grab him by his hair, pulling him out from between your thighs. He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed. “Let me take my skirt off first, I didn’t know you’d be so…eager.” You stand from the chair and push your left foot forward, “Wanna take my shoes off for me, puppy?”

He nods and begins to unzip your boots, helping you remove them carefully, setting them aside. He watches as you unzip your skirt and let it fall down to the floor, you step out of it and watch as he picks it up and folds it carefully, setting it next to your shoes. You sit back down, spreading your legs for him, sitting on the edge of the chair. You giggle as he pulls you forward by the chair. He starts to place soft kisses on your hips, smiling shamelessly as he does. “You’re so fucking beautiful, I couldn’t stop thinking about you for my whole shift. You know that?”

You blush like a schoolgirl, “You’re full of it…”

“I’m serious. Let me worship you, please. You deserve it…” He pleads.

“I’ll allow it…I guess…” You mutter sarcastically, leaning your head back as you watch him.

He carefully bites down on your waistband, trying to pull down your panties. You lift your hips to help him as you watch in amusement. You look down at him with your mouth agape as you watch him tuck the pair into his pocket.

“I’m gonna need those back y’know,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“Not happening, sorry. Maybe I wanna start a collection,” he teases.

“Are you always this bratty?”

He pretends to think about it, “Maybe.”

“Prick.”

He shoves his head back between your thighs, you sigh as you feel his warm breath against your now exposed cunt. His movements are slow and teasing as he places a kiss on your clit before sucking on it, pulling away and giggling at how your hands curl against the chair. He leans down to lick up your slit, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit. You whine, your eyes fluttering. It’s been too long since someone besides yourself has touched you. He brings a hand up to hold your hips steady, his other hand coming up to your folds. He spreads you open, teasing your slit with his tongue as he reaches up to pinch your clit. He chuckles to himself when you gasp, huffing in pain and annoyance at his teasing action. He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, scissoring them to spread you open as he leans forward and takes your clit into his mouth. He’s better at this than you could’ve imagined, pleasure washing over you as he pumps his fingers inside of you, curling them as he works to push deeper and deeper.

“Jesus fuck Simon, guess there wasn’t much else to do in Shadyside huh?” You joke breathlessly, a whimper escaping your lips directly after. You’re a mess from his touch, you can feel him smirk against you. He is pretty proud of his skills.

He starts to push his fingers deeper within you until he’s hitting just the right spot with every curl of his fingers. He pulls away from your clit, blowing on it, loving how it makes you squirm. You’re so responsive you’re driving him insane. He can’t help when he parts his thighs and settles his crotch against your leg. He starts to hump your leg like a bitch in heat as he returns to sucking your clit. The sight alone is enough to make your eyes roll back. You can’t believe how pathetic he’s making himself without even trying. You wanna drag him by his hair and make him your bitch, keep him on his knees in your dorm for your own entertainment. He whimpers and whines pathetically against your clit as he ruts against you, matching the pace of his fingers. You reach down to pull his face closer against your clit, moaning his name softly as you feel him whine against you. If this is on tape you want a copy. You’d play it till it fell apart and became unwatchable. He nips at your inner thighs before returning his attention back where you need it most. He pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean, before diving back in headfirst. He shoves his tongue inside of you, picking back up where he left off. He eats pussy like a man starved, lapping up every bit he can get, curling his tongue to find the spot you need most. With how his nose presses against your clit you can’t take much more, holding his hair as tight as you can as your hips buck against his face. You whimper his name, a string of curses leaving your lips as you come. He works you through it, pulling back to let you catch your breath. A smug smile adorns his face as he looks at you, fucked out and panting.

“Gotta clean you up…” He mumbles, leaning back in to clean the cum off your thighs. He continues humping your leg as he does, mumbling your name and whimpering every now and then. He’s so desperate for it that you can’t help yourself from helping him out, bouncing your leg in sync with his thrusts. It doesn’t take long before he’s a panting mess just like you. He’s made a mess of his briefs and he couldn’t care less. He rests his head on your knee, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Can we do this all the time? Not hooking up at work…but just like hooking up…and going on dates? Fuck…I really want you to be mine, I know if I don’t ask now someone else will try to swoop in and-”

You cut him off, “Yes Simon, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

He beams up at you, lifting himself up to kiss you, cupping your face. You can taste yourself on his tongue but with how he’s kissing you it doesn’t matter. You pull him closer by his hair, it’s as if you’re trying to melt into his touch completely. You’re both putty beneath one another. When he pulls away he smiles at you with flushed cheeks.

Your eyes go wide in realization, “Simon.”

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding lovesick.

“We need to finish closing.”

“Oh shit!” He stands up and grabs your skirt off the floor and throws it at you. “Get dressed, I’m gonna finish cleaning the lobby, you count the money and I’ll recount it after!” He runs out of the office and back to where the two of you had been cleaning before. You laugh to yourself and redress, heading to the bathroom to wash your hands before going back and counting the money. Simon comes in and recounts when he’s done, before locking up the safe and heading to the break room to grab his things. You stand by the front doors, smiling to yourself as he jogs over, keys in hand.

“I think we’re the best closers Eli has ever had!” He beams as he goes to set the alarm.

“Probably his only closers to fuck around in the office,” you scoff.

Simon unlocks the door for you, opening it and letting you walk ahead of him to the next set of doors. He’s quick to relock the door before doing the same with the next set. “The other closers probably use the break room for that…or the bathrooms.”

“As hot as that was you’re never eating me out in the bathrooms, I’ve seen too much shit to ever let that happen in there.”

“Fair enough…” He walks you to your car, his arm around your waist. He presses you against the driver side door and kisses you for the last time that night. “On a night we’re both off I’ll take you on a real date, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, leaning your head against his.

“You drive safe.”

“I will if you do,” you retort.

He rolls his eyes and pulls away from you, “I better see you alive and well for your next shift.”

“I’ll do my best, boss.” You slip into your car and lean your head against the headrest. You smile to yourself until you realize Simon still has your underwear. “Oh goddammit!”

#fred hechinger #fred hechinger imagine #fred hechinger x reader #fred hechinger x you #fred hechinger fanfic #simon kalivoda #simon kalivoda x reader #simon kalivoda smut #simon kalivoda x you #fear street 1994 #simon kalivoda/you #simon kalivoda/reader #fred hechinger/reader #fred hechinger/you #college au!simon kalivoda

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mononijikayu · 4 months ago

Text

fairy of shampoo — ryomen sukuna.

“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.” There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?” You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”

GENRE: alternate universe - fashion world au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, love at first sight, co-workers to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, backstage/greenroom sex, orgasm, humor, pet names (angel, sweetie, etc), devotion, possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, fashion designer! ryomen sukuna, super model! reader;

WORD COUNT: 5k words.

NOTE: i wrote the first part of this while on instagram live and continued to write, but then i forgot to do a live about this again and passed out from more cold medicine. the cold weather isn't really helping my case either. but im feeling much better now!!! though, i kept changing titles too, cause im indecisive. but of course txt saves the day with fairy of shampoo.

i adore this song a lot. also, if you are curious, this was something i was imagining for a while as an au to concubine reader and sukuna. like in another live, he would be a former underground fighter who fell for model reader. in any case, i hope you enjoy it. i love you all!!! see you on the 10th!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER SEEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU BEFORE. He felt his breath hitch, the steady rhythm in his chest faltering as if the very air had thickened, demanding more effort to draw in.

The crowd was roaring around him, but the noise seemed muted, far away, like a distant wave crashing on an unseen shore. All he could focus on was you, the commanding force you carried with every step.

It wasn’t just the way you moved — it was the raw, magnetic energy emanating from you. Each step struck the floor like a declaration, a drumbeat echoing through the cavern of his mind, drowning out every other thought.

He tried to remind himself to blink, to exhale, to ground himself in something other than the overwhelming pull of you, but it was no use. When it comes to you, there was no winning.

When you reached the center of the stage, you turned slowly, your gaze sweeping over the audience like a stormfront rolling in. Then, for the briefest moment, your eyes landed on his.

He felt like a man struck by lightning. The fire in your gaze seared through him, sharp and unyielding, leaving no room for the walls he’d so carefully built. He was laid bare, every defense stripped away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind.

As quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and you turned your attention elsewhere, leaving him in the wreckage of his composure. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, and he could only wonder how someone could hold so much power without even trying.

Control? Composure? He realized now how fragile those concepts truly were.

Everything about you screamed majesty. It was obvious you knew what you were doing and it was obvious that you were doing it with so much passion, so much pride, so much expertise. If it was not clear now, it would be obvious to all now that it was you who ran this world.

And you had no problem trying to show that to everyone. Everything about what you were doing could only exude wonder people cannot explain. Especially when you walked. Ryomen Sukuna knew this from the first time he saw you walk.

He could somehow remember the first time he’s seen you walk on a runway. He wasn’t yet the person he was at this time. Ryomen Sukuna remembers that he was a rough man, a brutish man. Someone whose hands were at one point made for destruction more than they were for anything relating to creation.

These hands were born for nothing good at all. These were born from nothing and then for violence. For most of his life, he was sure that they were made for nothing else but pouring blood on the concrete in rough fistful bouts than they were for wanting to understand the language of fabrics and colors.

Sukuna was all too certain that he wasn’t someone who he himself thought was even worthy of being in your presence then. You wouldn’t have liked the man he was then.

If he didn’t, then you would certainly not like him too. But he liked to think that this was the moment his life changed. He could remember it so very clearly, that moment.

He could recall it all, if you asked. Every little detail. His bloody hands fumbled with the remote control, the echo of his fingers pressing the buttons whiplashed as he tried to find something worth watching. Nothing was worth watching, nothing was worth looking forward to. One after another, the button pressed only to lead to disappointment.

Then, he stopped.

You were the first thing he saw. He blinked as he found himself staring at this moment. It was like you owned the runway. Your long silver stilettos click and clack across the steps,the fine texture of the shimmering silver dress blossomed like moonlight right in front of him. It was like an epiphany when he watched you come towards him through the screen.

Your bright blossoming eyes narrowed sharply as you stopped at the center, posing masterfully for the audiences and then for the cameras. He could feel the hairs on his body stand up as he walked closer to the screen. Almost a second after, you had smiled at the crowd.

For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought that this belonged to him. Your smile, your gaze, your pose. He had felt like you had been longing for him. Calling for him to come and join you. Beckoning him closer by your side. Almost as though you were commanding him like the goddess of the moon you were in that moment.

He wished that moment had lasted much longer. But as you finished your moment, it was your turn to walk away. Disappointment slowly seeped into him as he watched you go, the train of your metallic silver gown flowing behind you like moonshine withdrawing from the slithering darkness.

You were so beautiful, so bright and gorgeous. For a moment, he didn’t even think you were real. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever exist. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever bless him with your wonders, even for just a moment. From that moment, he was awestruck.

But it’s not like Ryomen Sukuna could not help himself in wanting you. You were life itself for him from that moment. And he couldn’t help but live in the world you made. He could not help but want to know you. To know more of your wonder. To be there in the room where it happened, watching you command the world with each and every step only you could make.

One could call him insane for believing that this was the moment that changed his life. That you, who he had never known, would ever change his life. Yet, it was true. You had made him your most adoring servant.

And he had made you his master, his lifelong muse. He knew that he didn’t have any skills to dress you, his goddess, just yet. But if there was something Ryomen Sukuna knew, it was that everything can be learned. And you would guide him how.

He could recall how he stood up from his couch that night and washed his bloody hands on his sink. He cleaned every bit of it. By the time he finished, he found his hands clean enough. And with that he felt satisfied.

He dried his hands with the dry cloth, watching the bloody water drain down the sink. He knew that he had to have clean hands, for you. He can’t dress you if his hands are dirty with blood. He won’t soil you. No, he won’t soil his goddess.

The click of the cameras brought him back to reality. You stopped at the center of the runway and posed. You look at the side dramatically, your jaw sharp against the glow of stage lights. You had fun as you brushed the loose hair back on your ear, trying to showcase the fine sapphire earrings encrusted with diamonds.

People were in awe as you stood there, the leather covered fingers tracing your beautiful face as you showcased the fine red silky flow of the shimmering strapped dress bejeweled in fine rubies and sapphires and its majestic slit at the hem forcing your fine leg forward, the heel of your shoe just as magnificent with its intricate design.

Everything about it was a perfect fit — as it should. Ryomen Sukuna could only think to himself about how proud he was that it looked good on you. Red was certainly made to be your color. The color he had so loved, the color he knew you had come to love just as much when you looked into his scarlet eyes too.

Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he watched the crowd, their collective awe painting a smug satisfaction across his sharp features. They didn’t just see a veteran model on the catwalk; they saw his vision, his devotion, his muse brought to life. They saw life form before their eyes.

It wasn’t just about the clothing, no. It was about you, his precious muse. You carried his work like no one else could, not just wearing the piece but embodying it, giving it a presence that no other model could match. Every step you took whispered of elegance, screamed of confidence, and radiated the unshakable power he had designed into every stitch.

He leaned further back in his chair, one leg draped casually over the other, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his arm. Sukuna’s mind flickered back to the nights spent creating the masterpiece you now wore. The hours he poured over sketches, fabrics, and details, all with you in mind. The fire in his chest when inspiration struck, always tied to the thought of you — your silhouette, your essence, your wonder.

It was a dangerous thing, he knew, to let himself feel this much for anyone. It was even more grievous when one thinks about how crazy he is, obsessed with you. But as he watched you claim the stage as though you owned it, as though you owned him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If anyone deserved his best, it was you.

And now, seeing you carry with pride what he had envisioned, the culmination of his work, his smirk twisted into something softer, something almost reverent. His scarlet eyes could only glint with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.

Because this wasn’t just a fashion show, not to him. This was his world laid bare, his unspoken devotion stitched into fabric, and you, his muse, standing at the center of it all. And he could care less about anything else. This was what mattered. Nothing more will satisfy him than you.

Let them look. He thought, his scarlet gaze darkening further. Let them be captivated.

But they should know this — the vision, the brilliance, the art?

It was his. And so were you.

And you just as well knew it too.

He was yours too, after all.

The moment the show ended, Ryomen Sukuna slipped through the mass of the crowd, his stride purposeful as he made his way backstage. The buzz of the event, the voices, and the clinking of glasses faded into white noise as he navigated through assistants, models, and photographers.

They all parted instinctively for him — whether out of respect, fear, or both, he didn’t care. Why should he care at this moment? He had something else much more important in mind, after all. Nothing can compare to that, to you.

He found you standing alone, the chaos of the backstage swirling around but never touching you. You were a picture of composed beauty, your magnificent features illuminated by the soft backstage lighting. The masterpiece you wore still clung to you, the fabric shimmering as though it held its own light.

You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in adjusting one of the intricate details of the outfit, but the shift in the air told you he was there. You looked up, your tender gaze locking with his, and in that instant, the world seemed to narrow in this cage you had always made for just the two of you. Your lips perk up into a small sly smile.

Sukuna let the door swing shut behind him, the sound muffled by the hum of the outside world. The room felt smaller now, the space between you crackling with an intensity that mirrored the one you’d commanded onstage. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, though the smirk on his lips betrayed the hunger in his gaze.

“Stunning, as always.” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “But then, you already know that.”

You tilted your head, meeting his smirk with a soft smile of your own. “The design does most of the work. You outdid yourself, Sukuna.”

His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in a few slow steps. You shake your head at him, your smile getting bigger too. He was about to have another one of his antics, for certain.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.”

There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?”

You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”

His chuckle was dark and low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “Jealous? Maybe. But more than that…” His hand slid from the fabric to your jaw, tilting your beautiful face up to his.

His scarlet eyes burned with something raw, something possessive. “I just wanted to remind you to come by and tell you, like I always do. All of this, the applause, the stares, the admiration... none of it matters. Because at the end of the day, you’re mine. No one else can have you but me.”

The air between you thickened, you could feel your pulse quickening as his blunt words hung in the space. His thumb brushed against your tender cheek, and soon enough, his face echoed a small smirk against his beautiful lips, one that you were certain was softer this time. But of course, you were just as certain that it wasn’t less intense.

“And don’t you dare forget it, hm?” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, before leaning in to close the distance between you.

“I will never forget.” You hummed back to him, just as sweetly. Just as venomous. “Just as you never forget that I am the only muse for you, hm?”

He laughs, the tone rich and eager as his eyes narrowed at you. “And when have I ever forgotten that, hm? Ten years of my life given to you so far, and you’ll have the rest of it too. You don’t have to worry about me leaving you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud this time. “Hm, then you are my prisoner now.”

“I always have been….. I am always willing to be, sweetie.”

He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and guided you through the bustling backstage chaos. You followed without question, the dress flowing into the brush of wind as you made your place elsewhere. You could feel your heart racing as he weaved through the narrow halls with singular focus, while still holding onto you, no matter what.

He didn’t stop until the two of you reached your green room. With a swift glance to ensure no one had followed, he shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place with a finality that made your breath hitch. You looked at him and then he looked back at you, almost as though time had frozen between the two of you.

The room was quieter here, dimly lit and far removed from the noise of the show. The faint hum of the loud music leaked through the walls, but it only added to the charged atmosphere between you. Ryomen Sukuna took a breath before starting to get closer to you, his intense scarlet gaze pinning you to the spot.

It was as though your throat had all but closed. You felt yourself standing there as he made his way to you and then stopped. The space between the two of you had all but evaporated into nothing. You pursed your lip into a line and then shook your head into a small smile.

His scarlet glint lingered, locking with your gaze, a mischievous gleam dancing within his eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself before you, hands deftly reaching for the ties that bound you to your heels. The heels he had designed just for you.

You knew you could do it yourself. But he refused to let you do it, even when he has to get to you later on, he would get some sort of way when he didn’t do it for you. For so long now, you have never been able to take your shoes off by yourself. He wouldn’t allow it.

After all, it was a ritual he insisted on. It was something he had done even when he was first designing clothes tailored just for you. And you had long stopped having any qualms about it.

Every time he did this for you, whether after the runaway or some time else, there was always this calm. It was always a quiet moment of devotion woven into the fabric of your bond each and every single time.

An angel like you shouldn’t have to stoop to something like this, sweetie. He had said back then, his lips curving into a playful smile as his attention remained on your feet. Only devils like me should kneel, taking on tasks as lowly as this.

Now, as his fingers worked to free you from the delicate binds, he couldn’t help but hum. You could feel his mumblings be rough and edged with something untamed and all at once, the warmest of spring days and tenderest of breaths. You obediently look upon him as he carefully removes them from your feet.

“You’ve been driving me insane all night, sweetie.” He set your shoes aside, tucking them where they wouldn’t catch another soul’s attention. His scarlet eyes roved up to yours, filled with longing. “Everything you do, even now... You just woo me to no end.”

You shivered under his gaze, feeling the intensity of his words wrap around you like a warm, intoxicating haze. His hands, calloused yet deliberate, brushed against your ankles as he adjusted your footing, ensuring you could stand without strain. Even in such a simple gesture, his care for you felt all-consuming.

“You have always imprisoned me, you know that? But tonight…..you really have mastered it.” he snickers, his tone dipping lower, velvet and gravel in equal measure.

“I have.” You muttered back at him, smiling at him as sweetly as you could. “Don’t you like it that way? Your muse gives you everything, artist of mine.”

“I did. I always do. I loved tonight most, I should say.” His lips curled into a smirk that sent a rush of heat through your chest. “Every glance, every move—it’s like you’ve cast some wicked spell. And here I am, completely at your mercy.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his hands still lingering just a moment too long on your legs. The proximity was enough to make your heart race, yet he stopped short of closing the distance, his teasing nature keeping you on edge.

“And the worst part?” he added, his voice softening but losing none of its weight. “I don’t even mind. Your devil craves more—he begs, over and over, to be your fool willingly.”

He stood, fluid and graceful, the motion commanding yet intimate. Your eyes blossomed as you looked towards him, unable to move. You felt as though you were being consumed by him. You felt like you were consumed by his wonder, by his soul, by his everything. Like you always have been. Like you always want to be.

His fine lips hovered near yours, daring but unyielding, as though he relished the tension he had so masterfully wrought. Every second seemed to stretch into eternity, leaving you breathless, waiting, wanting—until finally, he whispered back to you.

“Tell me, my angel... How long are you going to keep me like this?”

Before you could respond, his calloused hands were on you. One sliding around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. His precious lips crashed against yours with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It was a kiss that demanded everything from you, one that poured out all the frustration, admiration, and possessiveness he’d kept in check throughout the show.

You melted into him, your tender hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat and then his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His touch was everywhere, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your back, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between you.

The kiss deepened, his lips parting yours as his tongue sought entry, exploring, claiming. You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to tilt your head back, giving him better access as he pressed you against the cool wall, pinning you against it.

“You were perfect, sweetie. You truly are.” he muttered against your lips, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You have no idea how you burn me alive.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, earning a low growl from him that sent heat pooling in your stomach. “I think I’m starting to get the whole of it, ‘Kuna.” you teased breathlessly, your words cut off as he captured your lips again. “But….I wouldn’t mind knowing more about it.”

The air around you was thick with the scent of him, a mix of that one of a kind expensive mint cologne and a little bit of cinammon, something he had become fond of because of you. Everything about it was unmistakably your Sukuna.

The world outside the green room ceased to exist — no crowd, no cameras, no responsibilities to the world. It was just the two of you, tangled together, consumed by the fire you’d stoked in each other. Consumed by the very word that both of you couldn’t fathom saying to the other.

When he finally pulled back, the string of your connection bellowed you in parting. You looked at him intently as you gathered yourself. Both of you were breathless, wanton in your desire. You found your lips swollen and your heart pounding to no end.

Soon enough, he drew you closer and let his forehead rested against yours intently, his hands still firmly on your waist, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish.

“You’re so ardently beautiful, angel of mine.” he said again, his voice a husky promise. “Always. My only muse.”

“And you’re just as cunningly sweet, devil.” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. “You’re the only one who can be my artist.”

“You’re quite possessive tonight, aren’t you?”

You hummed back to him. “Don’t you already know that I am vile when it comes to you and smiling at other women?”

His smirk returned at your words. You rolled your eyes at his smirk, but your own eyes were too playful to suggest anything else. Your lover’s smirk turned softer soon, as your hands rested around his neck. But it was obvious that it was just as dangerous. Soon enough, he leaned in to kiss you again, passionately slower this time, as if savoring the moment.

The green room felt impossibly small, the charged energy between you crackling like a live wire. Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a confidence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake.

Your back pressed against the cool wall, a small breath releasing from your lips. You could feel the difference when you pressed against his body, though. Now more so when he had all but taken everything off, naked as the day he was born. It was truly a stark contrast to the endless heat and pleasure just radiating from his body and onto yours.

He held you firmly, his strong calloused hands gripping your voluptuous hips closer as though grounding himself in you. His hot breath was heavy against your skin, his sharp teeth grazing the sensitive spots on your skin that made you shiver and arch into him.

"’kuna, you….." you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.

He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your neck. "Say it louder for me." he demanded, his voice dripping with authority and raw desire. “I love hearing from you.”

You barely had time to respond before his hand slid lower onto your body, finding the silky fabric in his way. His brow raised for a moment. He had put himself in a conundrum, at times. He likes dressing you in everything he thinks of and creates. And yet, he just as much loves to see it off your body.

With a swift, deliberate motion, he tugged at the silky material, his eager movements ever so impatient yet precise. When your lover found your bare skin, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head to the side slightly, clutching onto his shoulders for support.

It didn’t take long before your lover found himself pressing himself closer, the thick heat of his touch teasing at the warmth of your entrance. He paused, his warm scarlet eyes locking with your own, searching for permission in your gaze. Even when he leads, he knows an angel will always be the one on top, not him, not the devil.

You nodded, your bruised lips parting as you whispered back at him. "Please. Please, my devil."

From there, you could only find that the tension had all but snapped. He pushed into you with a slow, deliberate force that had you throwing your head back against the wall. A loud pleasured cry escaped your eager lips as his throbbing tip pressed against your walls with such a mean, unrelenting precision.

You could only ever feel so full with the way he was easily stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating. He always knew too well how your body would react to him, wantonly eager to capture him in this desire. Just as much as it was willing to follow him, like he was its very own pied piper.

His rough and yet gentle hands gripped your hips tighter against him, steadying you as he slid into you deeper, filling everything inside to the brim. Your lover’s breath could only feel ragged, his jaw clenched and tightened as he fought for control, his sweating forehead resting against your own, now too drenched in desire.

"You take me so perfectly, don’t you?" he growled, his voice low and filled with unrestrained hunger. “Too good.”

Your fingers found their way to the small of his back, nails painted crimson now stained deeper as they dragged across his skin, leaving raw, bleeding trails in their wake. You clung to him desperately, adjusting to the fullness of him, each deliberate motion sending shockwaves through your body.

The initial sting of his girth soon melted into a searing pleasure, a molten heat pooling deep within you as he buried himself further, again and again. Each thrust forward in this pandemonium of pleasure was deliberate, unyielding, designed to elicit the loudest, most unrestrained cries from your lips.

Even against the sound of music outside these walls, your pleasure was even louder. Not that Sukuna minded. If anything, that had just made him more eager for more. The air in the green room grew dense and feverish, charged with the mingling of your ragged breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin meeting skin, and the guttural curses that spilled freely from Sukuna’s lips.

He shifted slightly, tilting your hips with a nearly brutal precision, each movement driving him deeper and deeper into you. It was raw, primal—his intensity teetering on the edge of brutish animalism. The cool wall at your back pressed harder against you as he pushed closer, his heat overwhelming, searing into your already burning skin.

From then on, your lover found himself thrusting against you in a new angle. Almost instantly, you found yourself unraveled entirely, tearing cries of unrestrained ecstasy from your lips over and over again, layered in different pitches one after another. Your body arched instinctively, meeting him halfway, desperate for more as he kept you teetering on the precipice of bliss.

Again and again, your lover gleefully pushed you closer to that feverish edge, his swift movements unrelenting, even as his own breaths grew rough and uneven, the sound of his hunger matching the rhythm of your shared passion. You could feel your slick sliding down your crevices, as much as drool was falling from your lips.

“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged, thick with possession. His lips found the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin before biting down lightly, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You groan against him. “You take me so perfectly… even now, in this dress I made just for you. Look at how it clings to you, ruined. It’s just like I wanted.”

The shining silk fabric of the dress bunched at your hips, a masterpiece he had poured his craft into, now crumpled and wrinkled between your sweating, mangled bodies. It was too intoxicating, the way that the waves of wrinkles formed on the fabric as you moved against him just as intensely. It was such an art. It was an art that only belonged to you and him. No one else can ever see such marvels like this.

The bright satin straps had all but slipped from your shoulders, exposing more of your gleamingly red and marred skin to his roaming calloused hands and greedy scarlet eyes. His long fingers gripped the delicate material, rough and unapologetic, as though the dress itself was just another part of you to dominate.

Your response was but a strangled moan as his brutishly eager hips snapped forward, the force of him driving you harder against the wall. The burn of skin against skin, the body against the cool wall — it has overtaken you whole in many fits of groans in pitiful harmonies of pleasure.

The cool surface contrasted with the molten heat coursing through your body, heightening every sensation. Your nails could only continue to claw at his shoulders, leaving streaks upon streaks of your touch across his skin, marring him, as you fought to keep yourself grounded. He could only smirk at that.

“Look at you now.” he murmured darkly, his scarlet gaze piercing into yours. “Still wearing this dress like a goddess, and yet, you’re falling apart for me. Do you have any idea how maddening you are? How irresistible?”

His hand slid between your bodies, teasingly brushing over the intricate folds of the fabric as his fingers found the heat pooling between your thighs. “Tell me, angel… do you want me to ruin this dress too? To ruin you completely, so no one else can ever have you?”

“Yes, my devil.Yes.” you gasped, your voice shaky but unyielding, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer. “Only you.”

His chuckle was dark, wicked, and utterly consuming, the sound of a man reveling in his victory. “Just how I love it, then.” he whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Because I’ve made you mine in every way that matters.”

His pace quickened, the power of his thrusts leaving you breathless, and yet, the dress still clung to your frame, a tattered proof to his desire and your surrender. Every stitch, every detail he had meticulously crafted was now a witness to the unrelenting passion that coursed between you, its perfection crumbling just as you were under his touch.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, even as it trembled with raw hunger. “My perfect angel. My creation. Mine.”

The dress clung to you, its delicate fabric now rumpled and damp with sweat, a stark contrast to the pristine masterpiece it had been when he first slipped it into your body hours earlier. His hands roamed freely now, rough fingertips tracing the paths of the seams he had stitched with care.

Each touch of his ignited sparks across your glowing skin, a searing reminder that every detail of the garment was crafted with you burning the thoughts he had mind—and now, every thread bore witness to how completely he had unraveled you bear to him.

“Do you feel how perfect this is?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rasp. His hips surged forward again, drawing a gasp from your lips that echoed in the small room.

“Every part of this, of you, was meant to drive me insane. The heavens planned for that, don’t you think? An angel to save the devil from sin.” He lets out a small choked chuckle, feeling sweat permeate from his neck.

His words were almost worshipful, though they carried the dark edge of his hunger. One hand slid down, gripping your thigh through the bouncing fabric, pulling you impossibly closer as he pressed harder against you. His other hand tugged at the hem of your dress, teasingly smoothing it back down only to push it higher again.

“You don’t even know, do you?” he continued, his scarlet eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive as easily as his body did. “How beautiful you look like this—wrapped in something I made, only to have me ruin it.”

His lips curled into a smirk, wicked and proud, before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was all-consuming, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his tongue invading with the same urgency as his movements against you. When he pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“Say it again. I wanna hear it again.” he demanded, his voice thick with need. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You could barely form the words, but they tumbled from your lips without hesitation. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

His eyes darkened further, a victorious glint sparking within them. “That’s right.” he growled, his pace quickening, his grip on you tightening as he drove you higher and higher. “You’ll always be mine, angel. No one else will ever have you like this. No one else will ever love you like I do.”

The intensity of his words sent you over the edge, your beautiful cries mingling with his animalistic groans as he followed you into an oblivion together. The air around you was heavy, thick with the scent of desire and the echoes of your shared release.

For a moment, neither of you moved from the bliss of the high. The only sound that mattered to the two of you was the ragged cadence of your breaths. His hands, once rough and relentless, now moved with never ending tenderness, smoothing the crumpled fabric of your silk dress as if trying to restore its dignity.

As if trying to hide the ruin and depravity that he feels only belongs to you and him. No one else can see it, no one else can know about his depravity. Only you, only you were the spectacle of any wrinkle in his composure. Your lover smiles at you. His lips brushed your forehead, a soft contrast to the ferocity of moments before.

“You’re perfect, as always.” he whispered, his voice low but steady, carrying a rare, vulnerable warmth. “In every way.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “So are you.”

224 notes · View notes

luvfae · 3 months ago

Text

CENTRE STAGE

summary: you’re thanos favourite backup dancer, the catch? you don’t want him. well… you like to pretend you don’t.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: this is a long one, smut, oral (reader receiving), fingering, choking, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy), swearing

series masterlist

The bass reverberated through the stadium, shaking the floor beneath your feet. You moved with the beat, body fluid, perfectly in sync with the other dancers. It was muscle memory at this point—hours of grueling rehearsals had carved the choreography into your bones.

And then there was Thanos.

Center stage. Soaking up the spotlight like he was born in it.

You weren’t blind—you knew he was attractive. Tall, sharp jawline, dark eyes that glinted with mischief and something more dangerous underneath. His presence was undeniable, the kind of charisma that made people lose their minds over him.

But you weren’t one of those people.

Which was why, when he shot you a cocky smirk mid-performance, you rolled your eyes and looked away.

You missed the slight falter in his steps.

Backstage was chaos. Sweat, adrenaline, the quick shuffle of dancers moving between costume changes. You were peeling off your jacket when you felt someone step into your space.

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?”

You turned, already knowing who it was.

Thanos stood in front of you, arms crossed, a glistening sheen of sweat on his forehead. His shirt clung to him, damp with exertion, and he smelled like expensive cologne and stage lights.

You raised a brow. “Which position? Because if you mean backup dancing, I worked my ass off to be here.”

His smirk widened. “I meant being this close to me.”

You scoffed. “Oh, my mistake. Guess I should start trembling.”

His smile faltered for a second, just a flicker, before he leaned in slightly. “Most girls do.”

You tilted your head, amused. “Poor things.”

His eyes darkened, scanning your face like he was trying to figure you out. Like he was waiting for the moment you’d break and melt for him like everyone else did.

You didn’t.

“Not interested?” he mused, voice lower now, intrigued.

“Not even a little bit.”

A lie. But he didn’t need to know that.

He huffed a laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Alright. Cool. I like a challenge.”

You turned to leave, but before you could, he caught your wrist—lightly, not enough to force you, but enough to make you pause.

“You should probably know,” he said, voice softer now, a little more serious, “I always get what I want.”

You looked at him, at the smug confidence in his face, and smirked.

“Not this time, superstar.”

And then you pulled away.

He let you go, watching as you walked off, and for the first time in his life—

Thanos realized he was the one being left wanting.

—

He had you switched the next day.

You saw it on the rehearsal schedule. Your name, suddenly paired with his for the partner sections of the choreography.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. Unbelievable.

When you walked onto the stage, Thanos was already waiting.

“You’re a child,” you told him flatly.

He grinned. “I’m resourceful.”

“You had me switched out just so you could put your hands on me?”

He shrugged. “Now you’re getting it.”

You crossed your arms. “You know, normal people just ask someone out when they’re interested.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Yeah, but normal people also get rejected.”

You scoffed. “Which is exactly what’s happening right now.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. “Yeah? Then why are you still standing here?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it.

Damn him.

Damn his stupid, arrogant, cocky ass.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes, the split second of uncertainty, and he fucking grinned.

“Relax,” he murmured, dragging a slow gaze down your body. “Let’s just dance.”

You exhaled through your nose, glaring. “Fine. But if you get handsy, I’m kneeing you in the balls.”

He laughed. “Noted.”

The music kicked in, bass heavy, vibrating through the soles of your shoes. You forced yourself to focus, rolling your shoulders, letting the beat settle into your body.

You had done this a million times before—picked up new choreography, adjusted to new formations, worked around whatever ridiculous creative decisions the higher-ups made. But this?

This was different.

Because now you had to dance around Thanos like he was some untouchable god, like he was the center of gravity and you were just one of his planets orbiting him.

And he knew it.

The smug bastard was eating it up.

“Alright,” the choreographer called. “Let’s take it from the top—Y/N, remember, you’re leading this section now. The energy needs to be different, more intense. It’s about power and temptation.”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

Power and temptation.

Great.

You got into position, your back to Thanos as the music restarted. Your movements were sharp, precise, every beat landing exactly where it needed to. You could feel him behind you, his presence heavy, but you ignored it—until the routine called for you to step into him.

You turned, moving into position, only for him to place his hands on your waist a second too early.

Too early, and definitely not necessary.

Your breath hitched. You felt his fingers, warm through the thin material of your top, his touch firm—possessive.

“Timing,” you snapped, twisting out of his grip.

His lips curled. “Felt right to me.”

You exhaled sharply. “Try again. And keep your hands where they’re supposed to be.”

He didn’t.

The next section had you circling him, tracing the shape of his body with your own, never touching but close enough to tease. It was supposed to be a push and pull, a careful balance of restraint and tension.

Except Thanos had no restraint.

Every time you moved past him, he found some excuse to touch you—a palm sliding over the small of your back, fingertips grazing your hip, knuckles brushing against your stomach. None of it was in the choreography.

And it was pissing you off.

Not because you didn’t like it.

Because you did.

And that made it worse.

You gritted your teeth, pressing forward with the routine, trying to pretend you weren’t hyperaware of his every move, his every breath.

Then came the final part—the part where you were supposed to sink against him, his arm wrapping around you, bodies molding together as the music reached its climax.

He pulled you in.

Too close.

Closer than necessary.

You felt his breath against your ear, his chest solid against your back, his grip firm like he was daring you to pull away.

You didn’t.

Not immediately, anyway.

“Problem?” he murmured, voice low.

You swallowed, heat licking up your spine. “Yeah. You don’t know how to follow a damn routine.”

He chuckled, his breath warm. “Or maybe I just don’t like rules.”

You twisted in his arms, pushing against his chest, forcing space between you. “Try following them for once, superstar. Or find yourself another dance partner.”

His gaze flickered with something dark. Something hungry.

Then, slowly, he smirked.

“No,” he said. “I think I’ll keep you.”

Your stomach flipped.

You scowled, shoving him harder this time, ignoring the way your pulse hammered in your throat.

“Do your job,” you warned, stepping back. “And keep your hands to yourself.”

Thanos just grinned.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.” He tapped his chest, smirking. “Star of the show.” Then, with a slow, deliberate glance, he pointed at you. “Backup dancer.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, rolling your eyes as you stepped back into position. Fine. If he wanted your attention so damn badly, he was going to regret it.

You had a new mission now: Make this the worst dance of his life.

The music started up again, and you turned your smirk into something sultry, something playful. If he wanted you dancing around him like he was a god, you’d do it—but you’d do it on your terms.

Every movement became sharper, more exaggerated. You dragged your fingertips across his chest when you were only supposed to graze past him. Your hips swayed a little too deliberately, your gaze lingering just a second too long. You danced around him like a tease, like a challenge, like you knew exactly what he wanted and were dangling it just out of reach.

And Thanos noticed.

His smirk faltered. His jaw tightened.

He was good at playing it cool, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers flexed every time your body got too close.

So you pushed it further.

At a part where you were supposed to circle around him, you let your breath fan over his neck, close enough that he could feel the heat of it. When he placed his hand on your waist—because of course he did, even though it wasn’t in the damn routine—you leaned into it just enough to make it seem deliberate before slipping away.

His grip tightened before he let go.

Good.

By the time the song ended, you were barely holding back a smirk. You could feel the tension radiating off him, could see the way he adjusted his stance like his pants were suddenly too tight.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” the choreographer clapped, beaming. “That was the energy we needed! Y/N, you nailed it—flirtatious, powerful, you owned that stage.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feigning innocence. “Oh? Just following directions.”

Thanos shot you a look, half-amused, half-something darker. He licked his lips, stepping closer, voice low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna play it like that, huh?”

You tilted your head, blinking up at him with faux sweetness. “Play what?”

His fingers brushed against your hip—not part of the routine, again. His voice dropped even lower, a husky whisper against your ear.

“Careful, sweetheart. Keep this up, and I won’t just be touching you for show.”

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let him see it. You stepped back, letting your smirk break free as you walked away.

—

The bass thrummed beneath your feet as you stepped onto the stage, the roar of the crowd nearly deafening. Bright lights, pulsing music, energy crackling in the air—showtime.

You had spent the entire day learning new choreography, perfecting every movement, every step, every fucking touch. And now? Now it was time to perform.

And him?

Thanos was already watching you like a predator.

You felt his gaze before you even looked at him. The heat of it. The weight. And when you finally did look, you swore you could see the exact moment he realized he was fucked.

Because his jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. His tongue flicked out over his lips, slow and deliberate.

Yeah. He was done for.

You weren’t even doing anything yet—just walking into position in your tiny black shorts and your cropped tank that rode up every time you so much as took a breath.

His gaze dragged over your bare legs, over the slope of your waist, over the sliver of skin just above your waistband. Lingering.

And then he laughed—low, under his breath—but you caught it.

“Fuck,” he muttered, just for himself.

Your lips twitched. Got him.

The music kicked in, and suddenly, you were moving. The energy of the crowd fueled you, the beat guiding you. Every motion was sharper, smoother, more deliberate.

And Thanos?

He was distracted.

Distracted by the way your body twisted and rolled, by the way your hands skimmed over your own thighs, by the way you met his gaze with something daring in your eyes.

He was supposed to be the star of the show.

But right now? Right now, it was you.

By the time the first chorus hit, you had made your way over to him, dancing around him like you were made to, your hands ghosting over his shoulders, his chest—only to pull away at the last second, teasing, tempting.

And he hated it.

Hated it because he wanted more.

You could tell by the way he reacted. How he leaned in, how his hands twitched to touch you, how his breathing hitched when you got a little too close.

So, naturally, you pushed it.

When his hand landed on your waist you let him feel you for just a second before spinning away.

The smirk on his face faltered for a half-second. And then he recovered, shaking his head, chuckling under his breath like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

Like you were the one who had the upper hand.

And when the song ended, when the stage went dark for the next set change, he wasted zero time grabbing your wrist and pulling you against him.

Your chest heaved, breath still uneven from the performance. “Am I throwing you off?”

His grip on your wrist tightened—just enough to make you feel it.

He leaned in, voice low, rough. “Not even close.”

His gaze dropped, flickering to your lips, down your throat, lingering at the band of your shorts

Your pulse jumped.

But you refused to let it show. Instead, you tilted your head, lashes fluttering as you murmured, “Didn’t think so.”

His jaw flexed. A slow inhale through his nose. A flick of his tongue over his teeth.

And then—the stage lights flashed back on, bathing everything in a blinding glow.

Your smirk deepened as you slipped just out of reach.

—

The moment the show ended, you vanished. You didn’t stick around to let him come find you. You were done with the game for now—just another part of the routine. You didn’t owe him anything, especially after how he’d been acting on stage.

You’d slipped back to your dressing room, changed quickly, and made your way to your hotel room, not once looking back. He wouldn’t find you so easily.

But that wasn’t the Thanos you knew.

An hour later, there was a knock on your hotel door. Soft at first, then louder, more insistent. Each thud felt like it was pounding through your skull. You held your breath, hoping he’d go away, but you knew he wouldn’t.

You hesitated, trying to keep calm as you made your way to the door. Slowly, you turned the handle, peeking through the crack just enough to see his tall figure standing there, staring you down with that dark, intense gaze that you knew was enough to melt any woman—except for you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, voice cold and flat.

He didn’t waste a second. The door was shoved open as he forced his way past you, his body towering over yours, blocking any chance of escape.

“You think you can just disappear like that?” he growled, his voice raw with frustration. “You think I won’t come after you?”

You crossed your arms, trying to remain unfazed. “I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to follow me.”

His eyes flashed, and for a brief moment, you saw the dangerous fire in them—something you’d only caught glimpses of before.

“You really think that?” he said, voice low and steady now, each word coming with a weight that was unmistakable. “You think I’m just gonna let you walk away, let you treat me like some damn game?”

“You’re the one making it a game,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just playing along. Didn’t think you’d have a problem with it.”

He took a step closer, and your back hit the wall, a tiny gasp escaping your lips. You clenched your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“You think this is just a game to me?” His hand shot out, gripping your wrist, his fingers tightening until it almost hurt. “What the fuck do you think you’ve been doing to me all this time?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours. “I’m not your fucking toy, Thanos,” you said, each word laced with challenge.

His lips curled into a half-smirk, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You might not be, but you’re sure as hell mine right now.”

“You’re a womanizer,” you hissed, pushing against his chest in a futile attempt to make him back off. “What makes you think I’d let you have me? Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean I’ll let you fuck me, you freak.”

He smirked, his hands brushing along your side with that infuriating confidence that made you want to rip his arrogance right off his face.

“Really?” he murmured, his lips curling into that taunting grin you were so damn familiar with. “Tell me to leave then.”

You stared up at him, your chest heaving, pulse quickening with the tension between you. He was close—too close—and you were burning under the weight of his stare, but you didn’t say a word. You couldn’t. You couldn’t fight it any longer.

Instead, your hands fisted his shirt, tugging him down to you. Your lips collided with his in a desperate, hungry kiss, more forceful than anything you’d ever let yourself give before.

You hated him for making you want him. You hated how his arrogance seemed to draw you in even more. But as much as you fought it, you couldn’t deny the heat flooding your body, the way he made you feel alive—even if it meant giving in to all the things you knew you shouldn’t want.

His response was immediate, his hands gripping you tightly, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced your lips before sliding in, taking control in that way he always did, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding, from giving in.

When he pulled away, his breath ragged, his face was inches from yours, his lips swollen and glistening from the kiss. “Knew you wanted it,” he said, voice low and rough.

Your chest tightened. You should’ve said something. Should’ve pushed him away, but the truth was, you didn’t want to. Not now. Not with the way your body was burning from the inside out.

He moved his hands down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion. You were left standing in front of him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and for a moment, you hated how exposed you felt.

But then his hands were on your skin again, hot and possessive, trailing over your bare body, making you shiver as he kissed along your neck, his lips grazing your skin like he couldn’t get enough of you. And suddenly, all those reservations you’d had, all those walls you’d put up, seemed to disappear into the haze of lust and want.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire, and you didn’t have to say a word. He could see it in your eyes—the same hunger, the same need.

Before you knew it, he had you flat against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed into you, his lips back on yours with a fierce urgency. And you didn’t fight it. Not this time.

He broke away for a moment, his voice rough, but controlled. “Tell me you want this. Say it.”

Your hands ran up his chest, your nails scraping over his skin as you tugged him back down. “I want you,” you murmured, your voice laced with that desperate edge he’d been waiting for. “Kiss me.”

Thanos didn’t hesitate. The second the words left your mouth, his lips crashed into yours again, all teeth and heat and raw desperation. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, fingers digging into your thighs as he pressed his body flush against yours.

You felt everything—the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the unmistakable hardness between his legs as he ground against you, making you gasp into his mouth.

His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, gripping your thighs as he lifted you higher against the wall. You gasped into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his purple, sweat-dampened hair, tugging just enough to hear him groan.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his breath ragged, his fingers digging into your skin. "You drive me fucking insane, you know that?"

You smirked, pressing your forehead against his. "Yeah? And whose fault is that?"

His laugh was low, dark, full of something dangerous. His grip on you tightened, and in one swift motion, he carried you across the room, dropping you onto the hotel bed with a smirk of his own.

"Mine," he admitted, voice rough as he hovered over you, his gaze raking over your body like he was memorizing every inch. "Because I should've had you the moment you rolled your eyes at me."

Your heart pounded, heat pooling between your thighs as he pressed a knee between them, teasing, testing. "And now?" you challenged, breathless.

He tilted his head, watching you with that arrogant, knowing smirk. "Now?" His fingers traced the waistband of your shorts, slipping beneath the fabric just enough to make you squirm. "Now I don't plan on stopping."

You arched your back as his lips trailed down your throat, his hands exploring, claiming, making it clear that this wasn't just some meaningless hookup to him.

This was a warning.

A promise.

A fucking declaration.

And god help you, you wanted all of it.

“You still think I’m a womanizer?” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

You arched into him, biting back a whimper as his teeth scraped over your pulse point. “You’re still a cocky bastard.”

He chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. “Maybe,” he admitted, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. “But you like it.”

You did. And that pissed you off.

You grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. “Shut up and fuck me.”

His eyes darkened.

“Gladly.”

Thanos kissed you like he was trying to consume you, like he wanted to leave his mark on every inch of your body. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your thighs, squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise.

You gasped as he flipped you over, pressing you into the mattress with his body. “You act so fucking tough,” he murmured against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “But I see right through you.”

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as he bit down on the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands slipping beneath your shorts, fingertips burning against your bare skin. He pulled your pants down your legs, his eyes dark as he took you in.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand down your spine before yanking your panties off in one swift motion. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first day I met you. Walking around in those fucking short. The bane of my existence, babe.”

Your breath hitched when he trailed his fingers between your legs, teasing, taking his time just to watch you squirm.

“Thanos—”

He forced your face to the side, silencing you with a kiss, swallowing your moans as he pushed his fingers inside you, moving slow, deliberate, dragging out every reaction he could get.

“Look at you,” he groaned, lips brushing against your jaw. “So fucking wet for me.”

You hated how easy this was for him—how he could unravel you with just a touch, just a look. You wanted to fight him, to push back, to pretend you were still in control.

But then he slid his fingers out, flipping you onto your back, replacing them with his tongue, and all coherent thought disappeared.

You arched off the bed, fingers tangling in his hair as he pinned your hips down, keeping you exactly where he wanted. His name left your lips in a broken moan, your body trembling beneath him as he devoured you like he was starving.

And he didn’t stop. Not even when you came, not even when you tried to push him away, too sensitive, too overwhelmed. He just held you there, dragging you through another wave of pleasure until you were a gasping, shaking mess beneath him.

Only then did he pull away, his lips slick, his eyes dark with hunger.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, voice rough as he unbuckled his belt, letting his jeans drop to the floor.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on top of you again, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing, making you whine in frustration.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he demanded, gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

You swallowed hard, pride clashing with desperation. You wanted to make him beg. You wanted to be the one in control.

But then he pushed in just an inch, stretching you open, making your head fall back with a strangled moan.

“Fuck—Thanos, please.”

That was all it took.

He thrust into you in one smooth motion, making you cry out, your nails digging into his back. He was thick, stretching you in a way that left you gasping for air, but he didn’t give you time to adjust. He set a brutal pace from the start, fucking into you like he was trying to break you.

And maybe he was.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder as he slammed into you over and over, pulling out just enough to make you desperate before driving back in. “So fucking tight, taking me so well.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, your walls clenching around him as pleasure coiled in your stomach. You didn’t care about control anymore. You didn’t care about anything except the way he felt inside you, stretching you, ruining you.

“Thanos—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he groaned, his grip tightening on your hips, his thrusts growing rougher. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

And you did. Hard. Your body clenched around him as you cried out his name, pleasure crashing over you in waves. But he wasn’t done. He fucked you through your orgasm, his pace relentless, chasing his own release.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Thanos had you on your knees, pressing your chest against the mattress with a firm hand on your back. His other hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he positioned himself behind you.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he murmured, running his palm over the curve of your ass before delivering a sharp smack that made you gasp. “Made to be fucked.”

You shivered, anticipation making your whole body tense. He spread you open, dragging the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing, making you whimper.

“Thanos—I can’t,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. Your body was spent, trembling, overstimulated beyond reason. You had already come three times—three, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dark, coaxing, dripping with lust. His fingers stroked lazy circles over your clit, making you jolt, your body betraying you despite the desperate plea on your lips. “Just one more. For me.”

“I—”

He didn’t let you finish. With one rough thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide, forcing your body to take all of him. A strangled moan ripped from your throat as he bottomed out, his fingers tightening on your hips.

"You can take it," he whispered, kissing the side of your neck as he fucked you right past your limits. "I know you can."

You couldn’t muster up a single word, instead you sobbed in pleasure and pain. You were so overstimulated, but fuck, it felt so good.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, rolling his hips, making you feel every inch of him. “You like this, don’t you? Being bent over, fucked like you belong to me.”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

But then he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace that had you gripping the sheets, struggling to stay upright.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice low, dangerous.

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your walls fluttering around him. “I love it.”

“That’s my girl.”

He fucked you harder, his grip bruising, his thrusts deep and relentless. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with the ragged moans you couldn’t hold back.

One of his hands slid around to your front, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you trembling beneath him.

“You gonna come for me again?” he growled, his other hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you back against his chest as he fucked into you. “Wanna feel you squeeze my cock.”

You couldn’t hold back. With a sharp cry, you came undone, your body tightening around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Thanos groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. He slammed into you one last time before spilling inside you, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your head spin.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies tangled, your breaths heavy. Then he leaned in, pressing a rough kiss to your shoulder.

"I hope I didn’t ruin you," he murmured.

But he had. Completely.

—

The next morning, you woke up sore in the best way possible, tangled in expensive hotel sheets that smelled like him. The space next to you was empty, but the indent in the mattress was still warm.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. Fuck. What the hell did you just do?

The sound of the bathroom door opening made you jolt upright. Thanos emerged, towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water sliding down his chest. He caught your gaze and smirked.

“Morning, señorita,” he drawled.

You scowled. “Don’t call me that.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair as he walked over to the bed. “You’re grumpy in the morning. Cute.”

You glared at him. “You should leave.”

His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Then he recovered, leaning down until his face was inches from yours. “You sure about that?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Because the truth was, you weren’t sure at all.

Thanos watched you carefully, reading every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. You hated that about him—how easily he could see through you.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away. “Yeah,” you said, but your voice wasn’t as sharp as you wanted it to be. “I’m sure.”

A beat of silence. Then, he exhaled a quiet laugh. “Liar.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanos—”

“You’re gonna pretend last night didn’t happen?” He tilted his head, voice low and taunting. “Or just pretend you didn’t love every fucking second of it?”

Heat crept up your neck, shame and frustration tangling together in a way that made you feel sick. You didn’t answer, just pulled the sheets tighter around yourself.

Thanos clicked his tongue, his fingers brushing your chin as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “I’ll go,” he murmured, but there was something unreadable in his expression. “For now.”

Your breath caught. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He smirked, leaning in just enough that his lips ghosted over yours. “You’ll see.”

Then, before you could say another word, he was gone.

You sat there, staring at the door long after it clicked shut, your pulse hammering in your throat.

Fuck.

You had a terrible, sinking feeling that this wasn’t over. Not even close.

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