#I fucked up the order and had to redo this

[haunted-xander]

More paintings from my recent post, with (some of) the scions this time!

+ the sketch for Krile bc it was too cute to delete

[pa-pa-plasma]

does anyone know why when i post on ao3 all my tags get mixed up & deleted & uncapitalized it’s really annoying

[mixsethaddams]

Steve was having a really bad day.

He forgot to pass on a message to a co-worker which, ok, wasn’t the end of the world exactly, but it made his insides squirm.

He forgot to write a list for his boss which, again, nothing that couldn’t be rectified, but it made his palms itch.

A customer yelled at him over something out of his control and he had to stand there and take it because what is retail if not the first circle of hell.

Steve sat in the break room and wished his coffee was hotter while he ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s just one of those days,” he told himself over and over. “It’ll be over soon,”

He wasn’t working the next day so he was counting down the very seconds until he could dart out the front door and not have to come back for a whole forty hours.

Things didn’t improve after he swallowed his lukewarm coffee and went back to his duties. Everything he said seemed to land wrong. Everything he did seemed to need redoing. It felt like his co-workers were annoyed with him even though he knew that realistically they had no reason to be. Steve’s jaw was sore from clenching it shut, trying not to burst into tears right there in the store and hold it together at least until he got to his car.

Even staying an extra fifteen minutes after he should have left to help someone finish a task they were struggling ended up being the wrong thing to do. Why did he stay? Had he clocked out? He should have. Did he not know that overtime needed to be approved a day in advance?

Steve let the feeling of the latest failure of the day wash over him as he grabbed his things and left after his shift.

Eddie wasn’t even going to be home when he got back. He was running a campaign for his D&D group which was being hosted in Gareth’s place a full fucking two hour’s drive away. Eddie was just going to be staying the night there and coming back tomorrow, instead of driving home when they finished. It made sense. It was going to be a ten-hour session and they didn’t even start until almost noon. It was just something that happened every other week and Steve usually enjoyed having a few hours to himself but today he would have killed to have his boyfriend waiting for him.

Steve’s lip wobbled while he drove. His eyes were misty and he was blinking rapidly to keep them clear. He was determined to get home before fully breaking down. He just wanted to order dinner, wrap himself up in every blanket he could find, and watch the latest episode of Married At First Sight. When he finally got back to their apartment, his phone pinged with a text from Eddie.

“Hope work was ok! I’ll call you before I go to sleep later? We’ve got about four hours left”

Steve sighed at the screen. Eddie always called him to say goodnight when he stayed at Gareth’s. Usually Steve loved it because Eddie would be a little bit drunk after having some post-session beers with his friend and they’d giggle together on a video call until Eddie’s eyelids drooped. Tonight though Steve wasn’t sure he could handle the reminder that he was alone when he wanted so badly to be held.

“Long day. Probably just crash soon as I’m home”

“You good?”

“Just tired. Hope you’re having fun :) “

Steve regretted the food he ordered for dinner. He wanted the orange chicken but for some reason he ordered sweet and sour pork. It wasn’t bad, it was fine, but the chicken was his favourite and it almost felt like a form of punishment for his bad day. So now Steve was crying uncontrollably over a container of rice. He felt so stupid but it was just one more thing that had gone wrong for him today. Crying at this point didn’t even feel cathartic. It just gave him a headache and made his throat dry.

He didn’t finish his food, and he didn’t watch TV. Steve dragged himself to his bedroom, leaving his clothes in a pile in front of the dresser he grabbed his sweatpants from, before he took a pill for his headache and fell, unshowered, into bed. It was still bright outside.

Steve felt the bed dip next to him. For the briefest moment a kind of raw panic gripped his chest and he was too scared to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar brush of fingertips over his temple, sweeping strands of hair out of his face, that he calmed down.

“Stevie?”

Eddie whispered it softly and Steve opened his eyes. The room was dark, but there was a navy blue hue, like the sun was only barely below the horizon, that meant Steve could still see Eddie’s outline.

“What time is it?” mumbled Steve.

“Almost nine,” said Eddie gently, still rubbing his hand through Steve’s hair.

Steve scrunched his nose. Nine? That wasn’t right? It wasn’t bright enough to be morning. He peered up at his alarm clock, still flashing the same date it had been when he closed his eyes before fitful sleep.

Steve sat up quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked again. “Why are you here, what happened?”

Steve knew Eddie’s D&D sessions never cut short for anything less than a national emergency so he was instantly on high alert. Eddie driving all the way home was even more concerning. Steve gripped Eddie’s arms, he was still wearing his leather jacket. It was cold from being outside. He lifted the edges of the jacket as if he was checking to make sure Eddie was all in one piece.

“Nothing happened,” soothed Eddie. “We just finished up early,”

Steve was still looking over Eddie’s body like he was expecting to find a missing limb or something.

“What?” asked Steve, confused. “Why?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Wasn’t feeling the vibe,” he said easily. “I plugged the plug and said I needed to get home,”

“You never finish early,” said Steve. “And you never drive home. What happened?”

Eddie sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me?” asked Eddie gently, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek.

Steve gulped.

“I don’t…” stuttered Steve. “Nothing, what do you mean?”

“Baby,” said Eddie firmly.

Steve chewed his lip to stop it trembling.

“I just had a bad day,” said Steve quietly. “You didn’t need… You could have stayed out there,”

Eddie gently pulled Steve forward, so he could rest his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Steve breathed in the well-known smell of cologne and cigarettes smoked outside. He practically melted into it.

“Thought this might be where I was needed more,” murmured Eddie, twisting around on the edge of the bed to allow Steve to relax more comfortably into his hiding place. “Looks like I was right, hmm?”

“Ruined your game though,” said Steve, muffled against the leather of Eddie’s jacket. “I just had a bad day,”

“It’s not ruined,” assured Eddie as Steve’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Knowing I left you here by yourself after a bad day is what would have ruined it,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” sighed Steve. Eddie was running a comforting hand over his back.

“You didn’t need to,” said Eddie. “Soon as you didn’t ask for a more solid time to expect me to call you, that’s when I knew,”

Steve sniffed back a tear.

“So dumb…” said Steve, frustrated almost more than ever with himself now. “I’m sorry, this is so fucking dumb,”

Eddie shushed him gently.

“No it’s not,” said Eddie, nuzzling into Steve’s hair. “Sometimes things creep up on you like this. It happens,”

“I wish it didn’t,” admitted Steve, pulling back to look at Eddie.

Eddie rested their foreheads together.

“I’m always here for when it does, though,” said Eddie softly.

Steve closed his eyes and let Eddie take him into another embrace, holding him tight for what could have been seconds or hours.

Steve didn’t remember when Eddie finally slipped his jacket off. He didn’t remember feeling him sliding into bed next to him, gathering him up and holding him as close as he could. Steve just remembered the feeling of Eddie heartbeat against his own chest, the sound of his breathing, his fingertips scratching gently against Steve’s scalp.

All Steve knew was feeling safe. Protected. Like one bad day was no longer drowning him because now, he remembered how to keep his head above water.

[dkfile]

forgiveness (i would redo it all if i could)

❛ sure, the joy you exhibit is at his expense, but he can’t bring himself to care. jaemin would walk on burning hot coal if you asked him to. ❜

word count | 7.0k (7,009) genre | fluff with slight angst, humour, pining, idiots 2 lovers lol ━ fratboy!jaemin

the five times jaemin begs for forgiveness apologizes — and the one time you get a taste of your own medicine.

★ warnings | vomiting, humiliation (? not really but), alcohol consumption, and characters jumping to conclusions ★ author’s note | i wrote this instead of studying and it initially started as a drabble but the moment i finished the first part i realized i would just have to keep going. so i did. hope u enjoy this monster ❤️‍🩹

one.

The air reeks of hard liquor. You feel it stick to your skin the moment you step inside the frat house, trailing behind Lia as she zigzags her way through the crowd and into the kitchen. She’s a creature of habit, always following a routine, so it doesn’t surprise you when her first order of business is getting the both of you a drink.

Still, the vodka does nothing to contain your nerves. Bitterly, you eye Lia from the corner of your eye as she makes chit-chat with some friends from her Psychology class; she promised this party would put you out of your misery, but you have been here for all of three minutes and your misery has yet to be put out.

You had hoped — prayed — the trashy EDM and stench of sweat mixed with booze would have a quick effect on your aching heart, that it would snap you out of the wallowing you’ve been doing for the past two days, that it would make you forget about the 25 text messages and 10 missed calls you’ve left unanswered.

But, alas, here you are.

Lia makes quick movements out of the kitchen after spotting another friend of hers, gripping your wrists as if you’re a felon and her hands are the cuffs, and this frat, with its roaring partygoers and sticky floors, was your own personal prison. She casts a brief look over her shoulder, notices your expression has yet to change from the scowl you sported the moment you stepped outside, and eyes you with apologetic pity but does not loosen her grip on your limbs.

“Lia!”

She stops, quickly hides you behind her. You’re about to bite out a response before your face falls at the sound of the greeting that falls from Lia’s lips.

“Hi, Donghyuck.”

“Lia! How have you been?”

“Mm, great,” she replies, curt, but Donghyuck waves off her behaviour. He either doesn’t care about it or is too inebriated to do so — your guess is the former.

“How’d you do on that Psych test? Question three had me fucked up.”

“Kind of like how you are right now?”

Over Lia’s shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Donghyuck’s eye roll. “Ha ha, very funny,” he says before bringing a can of beer to his face. He gives it a shake, signifying that there’s still liquid in it. “I’m still on my first can.”

“That’s nice, Hyuck,” Lia sighs. “But I have to go, I’ll talk to you later? Chaewon needs me.”

“Oh, Chaewon! I haven’t seen her in forever. Where is she?”

Donghyuck begins to scan the room as Lia says, “Over by—” his eyes land on you peeking over Lia’s shoulder, “—the beer pong table.”

The excitement on his face falters, he blinks thrice, and as if snapped out of his reverie, his grin turns smug. Lia’s voice dies down as Donghyuck glances over to where a group of frat boys, rowdy and energetic (are they fighting for the title of life of the fucking party?) while he muses, “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Y/N.”

“I saw you last Friday,” you clear your throat when you hear the hoarse scratch in your voice. “Besides, I’ve been busy.”

Sarcastically, Donghyuck says, “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing in particular,” he smiles, looking at you for a brief moment before returning his attention to his frat brothers. He makes eye contact with a boy, fading pink hair appearing orange under the lights, heavy eyelids opening fully at the sight of you. “It’s just weird, isn’t it, that I haven’t seen you since Friday?”

“Not… really?” you furrow your eyebrows. “We don’t have any classes together.”

He gives you a look. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

At the sound of quick footsteps, Lia glances to her side. At the sight of the very reason you’ve been holed up in your room the entire weekend, she tugs your wrists.

“We should go,” she says.

“Wha— why—?”

“Y/N!”

You jump far enough to release Lia’s hold on you. Donghyuck’s laugh is silenced by a stomp on his foot; the expletives he grunts at Lia goes through one of your ears and out the other — as people’s words often do when Na Jaemin enters your vicinity and punctures your comfortable little bubble.

He’s a sight for sore eyes — so, so beautiful, with his shirt half-tucked into his baggy jeans and a bajillion rings adorning his fingers. He gives you a smile laced with careful excitement, as if you are something to be cautious about, a ticking time bomb.

And suddenly, you’re transported back to Friday night, sitting in a restaurant in the fanciest getup you’ve stolen from one of your friends. Everything buzzes around you. You swear your senses have been heightened — you catch every pitiful glance, hear every sympathetic whisper, smell the desperation radiating off your chest.

Despite all of this, despite all your prayers for any sign of fortune, your phone screen stays black. Void of any texts or calls or even Instagram notifications.

The waiter, ever patient and remorseful, takes slow steps to your table. You take this as your sign to leave.

You ignore the first apology Jaemin sends eight hours later, and all the following others.

Over the noise, he shouts, “Can we talk?”

Your hands find Lia’s. “We need to go.”

Jaemin’s hands find yours. “Y/N.” He lets a drop of pathetic desperation taint his voice. “Please?”

“We have nothing to talk about,” you say.

“I’ll take five minutes.”

You don’t know what it is that gets you to give in. Maybe there’s a small part of you that wants to believe him. There’s a sliver of hope you cling to — like a child begging his parents for a new trinket while he stands in the toy section of a store — and it’s the reason for your downfall. It’s why you even said yes to him in the first place, sitting in the atrium of one of the science buildings as you both waited for the rainfall to stop.

Before you two had split ways, Jaemin had promised, “You won’t regret it.”

And yet…

Still, despite these broken agreements, you nod, allow him to take you to the porch despite Lia’s wariness and every voice in your head shouting at you not to.

He slides the glass door closed, muffling the noisiness of the party in the process. You shiver at the sudden gust of wind.

“Do you want a jacket?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Really? Mine’s only on the couch, it’s no trouble—”

“Jaemin, I’m fine,” you bite.

The venom is enough to get him to back off.

The silence that falls between the two of you only lasts a few moments. The alcohol has made Jaemin jittery and impatient, but he’s soft in the way he says, “I’m sorry.”

You huff, placing your cup of fruit punch on the porch. “What for?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well... isn’t it obvious?”

You tilt your head, leaning over the railing as Jaemin centres his hip against it. He faces you, drenched in remorse, and you face away, engulfed in humiliation.

“I guess it is. But I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there on Friday,” he murmurs. In the corner of your eye, you see him inch closer, and your skin begins to tingle at the sensation — but then, with words sharpened with knives, he adds, “I’m sorry for standing you up.”

Shame washes over you like a pail of cold water on a hot summer’s day. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself, for him to admit it. But that doesn’t stop it from hurting any less.

“Okay.”

“Y/N,” he almost pleads. His hands twitch at his sides, begging to touch your shoulder, your face, your hands, anything. The vodka doesn’t mix well with his regret and he thinks he might vomit if he doesn’t find something to anchor himself back to Earth. The railing isn’t enough — he needs you.

But he has enough self-control to back off. He hurt you, he shouldn’t be allowed to touch you.

“You know, you flirted with me for four months,” you begin, voice wavering. “And I thought you were excited for the date. I mean, you looked excited.”

“I was.”

“Well, not enough to show up.”

“Y/N, come on—” he takes a step towards you, grips the railing a little harder. His stomach growls at him to stop moving. “Just let me explain. I just need a couple minutes, that’s all. And then you can decide whether you still want anything to do with me.”

You glare at him, though it’s not sharp enough to sting. “I’d rather not waste my time.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

You stare, and while you do so, he uses the free time to try and decipher your expression. Futile.

“I think we should be having this conversation while you’re sober.”

“What are you talking about? I’m completely fine!”

A glance inside. Your eyes lock with Lia’s. “Sure. But you’re slurring your words, Jaem.”

Jaem. A nickname. That’s a good sign, right?

“I can make it through a conversation,” he promises. “Really. Just trust me.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk right now,” you tell him. “It’s— it’s just better for me if we do this when you’re in your right mind, okay? So can it wait?”

And then all fight leaves his body. He supposes he can wait another day for your forgiveness. 24 more hours can’t hurt.

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

You manage a smile and give him a nod before gesturing you’re going back inside. He murmurs that he’ll see you in a bit, despite the fact that he knows you and Lia will be making your way back to the dorms the moment the glass door slides open.

As you begin to walk away, Jaemin notices that you’ve left your cup on the railing. He grabs it, “Wait—” he says, lurching forward.

Oh. He definitely shouldn’t have done that.

A loud gasp falls from your lips. Jaemin stands to his full height, eyes wide with shock as he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

You won’t look at him. You’re looking at your shoes and scrunching your nose at the rancid stench that begins to fill the night air.

Well. At least Jaemin’s stomach is feeling better.

two.

Flowers are fucking expensive.

Jaemin realizes this as soon as he leaves the flower shop Renjun works at (according to Renjun, Jaemin fucked up so bad he doesn’t even deserve a discount) but decides not to dwell on the dent in his bank account as he begins the trek to your dorm. He keeps an eye on the cloudy sky, murmuring pleas under his breath for it to not rain — the last thing he needs is for the bouquet he spent good money on to get soaked.

When he enters your building, his exhaustion replaced with nerves, he almost doesn’t notice the lively figure walking out of the elevator.

The way Liu Yangyang steps foot into the lobby, radiating all things bright and holy, is blinding. Jaemin resists the urge to flinch when Yangyang gives him a wide smile.

“Hey, Jaemin!” he greets, barely concealing his confusion at Jaemin’s suit and the big bouquet of flowers. “Do you have a date? At 10am on a Saturday?”

“Oh! No,” says Jaemin. “I’m apologizing.”

“Ah. I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“Oh, I’m not!” Jaemin corrects, plastering an embarrassed smile. “But, uh, I fucked up, so… it’s the least I could do. And, well, I wanted to do this, so—”

“Still. A bouquet this big is expensive,” Yangyang quirks an eyebrow, plucking the card out of the large array of flowers. His eyes scan the paper. And then again. And again. Jaemin wonders if Renjun’s pulled a prank on him and wrote something ghastly on it.

When Yangyang finally looks up, glancing from the card to the elevator, Jaemin asks, “What? What’s wrong? What does the card say? Fuck, did Renjun do something? I’m gonna kill—”

“No, the card’s fine,” Yangyang snorts, placing it back where he found it. “It’s just... you’re the guy, huh?”

“Sorry?”

“The one that stood Y/N up? The one that they were complaining about when I dropped by this morning?”

There is so much to unpack here. However, Jaemin can only manage a flabbergasted, “Wait, what?”

Yangyang laughs, gives Jaemin a pat on the back, then bids him a goodbye. He’s left the building before Jaemin can even think of a follow-up question, leaving him standing alone in the lobby, dress shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, hair swept up from the wind, and his right hand limply gripping the flowers — the perfect picture of disaster.

It takes him a while to finally move, and when he does, a new unpleasant feeling sinks in his chest.

But then you open the door, and momentarily, the feeling disappears.

“Hi,” he says with a gentle smile. With two hands, he presents you with the bouquet, which you carefully take, eyes sparkling in awe.

You absentmindedly step to the side to let him in while your fingers carefully brush the flowers. “Jaemin, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did,” he argues with no malice. He slips off his shoes and follows you to your desk, watching as you place the flowers in a vase, “so you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

He sees you roll your eyes. Still, you say, “Thank you.”

He beams. “You’re welcome.”

You lean against the back of your chair, folding your arms over your chest. Jaemin tries not to let your sudden indifference affect him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Sorry I threw up all over you last night,” he winces.

You wave him off. “It’s fine. Those shoes were worn out, anyway. I was looking for a reason to throw them out.”

“I’m sorry for Friday too.”

Jaemin notices you cave yourself in. Your gaze has hardened and the tension has made you stiff. Something much more painful than guilt sinks its claws into his beating heart.

He thinks, even if he were bleeding apologies, that it still wouldn’t be enough to deserve your forgiveness.

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “We’re fine now.”

“Okay… But are you sure?”

You blink.

Jaemin continues, “I really want to make it up to you.”

You move to lay against the headboard of your bed, playing with the controls of your alarm clock to avoid eye contact. “And you have.”

“I have?”

You take one long look at him, raise an eyebrow at the state of his outfit, before commenting — with your amusement thinly veiled behind the lingering hurt, “Oh, definitely.”

Everything in Jaemin malfunctions at the sound of your voice. The familiar mellow glee shakes him to his core. He leans against your desk chair, refusing to break eye contact despite your determination to not look at him for longer than five seconds.

He kicks the foot of your bed. Not hard enough to scare you, but enough to glance at him in annoyance. “I’m being serious,” he says. “I’ll humiliate myself if I have to. Do you want me to beg for forgiveness in front of everybody? I’ll do it. I can do it by the fountain at the centre of campus, or maybe the cafeteria. Or maybe at the next party—!”

“Jaemin.”

“I can do it at the coffee shop. Not the one near here, but the artsy one. I'm guaranteed to get a lot of judgemental stares there.”

“Jaemin,” you interrupt. You’re staring at him now, the alarm clock long forgotten. “You don’t need to do any of that. I mean, would it be funny? Yeah, definitely. But I want an explanation more than anything. That’s what you promised me last night, anyway — if you remember.”

Jaemin tries his best not to wince. He’d love to tell you the truth, really, but when he had relayed what happened to Renjun, he was met with a slap on the back of his head and different variations of “This is really embarrassing for you, man.” Last night, he was more than happy to explain the reason for his absence on Friday, but that was because there was alcohol in his system.

Could Jaemin humiliate himself in front of strangers and his friends? Sure, no problem. But you were a completely different story.

Every move he’s made, every decision he’s followed through, has been to impress you. He doesn’t know what he would do if he ever blew that up.

“Oh. Okay, well, you see…” Jaemin begins sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “That’s a funny story.”

You frown. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, Jaemin, but I don’t really wanna waste my time listening to excuses.” You turn to your side, taking interest in the alarm clock again as you grumble under your breath, “I’ve done enough of that already.”

The speed at which desperation consumes him is worrying. One minute he’s standing near your desk, the next he’s crouching to enter your field of vision. He’s next to your bedside table now, eyebrows furrowed and about two minutes away from begging.

“Okay, okay, no, you’re right,” he gulps. “Okay. It’s really embarrassing, though. It wasn’t my best moment.”

You don’t answer, instead giving him a look that urges him to continue.

“It’s dumb, alright, so don’t laugh,” he inhales. “A few hours before our date I went to the gym with Hyuck—” (Donghyuck had convinced him doing so would make him look so much better for the date) “—and I was exhausted. So, when we got back I… I fell asleep.”

“...What?”

“I took a nap,” he grumbles, more upset at himself than at your disbelief. “I was so tired and I didn’t want to go out with you if I was out of it, so I went to bed, and I thought I set an alarm for myself, but… I guess I didn’t. Next thing you know, I’m waking up at 1am, completely out of it, until Renjun barges into my room asking me how everything went.”

You stare blankly. “You… you fell asleep.”

He grimaces. He prepares himself for the brunt of your rage. It’s what he thinks he deserves — missing something he’s been wanting for months, looking forward to for days, all because he took a nap? He swears on heaven and Earth that he’s more mad at himself than you are at him.

But then you laugh.

It starts off as an incredulous snort before you start laughing in his face. And once he’s gotten over his initial shock at your reaction, Jaemin cracks a smile. Mostly because this is the first time he’s seen you happy since last week. He underestimated how much he missed all of this — sure, the joy you exhibit is at his expense, but he can’t bring himself to care. Jaemin would walk on burning hot coal if you asked him to.

Raindrops begin to land on your window as the sky becomes darker. Jaemin should be dreading the moment he has to step outside and walk back to the frat.

(But…)

“You’re not lying?” you guffaw. “You’re completely serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Jaemin deadpans.

You burst into another fit of giggles.

(He thinks the sight of your smile just made his entire week.)

(He says so to Donghyuck when he gets home and is asked why he’s soaking wet and giddy. To which Donghyuck replies with a roll of his eyes and, “Jaemin, you are so fucking whipped.”)

three.

There are many things Donghyuck has seen Jaemin do in the name of love.

But this? This is definitely going at the top of the list of the worst things he’s ever done.

The act itself is mild. If Donghyuck was told about this then he wouldn’t even consider putting this in the top 10. But he isn’t the recipient of a storytime. Instead, he’s with Jaemin, standing with him at a supermarket thirty minutes after closing in his Kuromi pajamas.

Tonight, Jaemin isn’t only embarrassing himself, but he’s dragging Donghyuck along with him.

“Please,” Jaemin begs the tired employee on the other side of the locked doors. “I just need one thing.”

The employee locks eyes with Donghyuck. Donghyuck wants to crawl into a hole and die.

The catalyst of this impromptu trip to the grocery store is you. More specifically, what you posted on your close friends story. You had been baking but realized you don’t have any more baking soda, so Jaemin took it upon himself to drive to the store and get some for you.

You didn’t even ask him to.

“Don’t we have baking soda at home?” Donghyuck hisses under his breath, grabbing Jaemin’s elbow while the 16-year-old employee explains for the nth time, “No, sir, I can’t unlock this door. Like, I literally can’t. I don’t have the code.”

“No,” Jaemin snatches his elbow back. Donghyuck wonders how they both look, standing in their matching Melody and Kuromi pajamas in the middle of the night. “Jeno and Mark used all of it up, remember? For some bake sale.”

“I think they were raising money for the frat, Jaemin.”

“Oh, fuck the frat.”

Donghyuck snorts. “Dude.”

“What?”

Donghyuck throws his arms up in defence before tugging Jaemin towards the parking lot. He waves apologetically to the employee, who only shakes her head in response, and ignores Jaemin’s whining and thrashing as they make their way to his car.

“Okay,” Donghyuck says firmly, crossing his arms. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure. It’s not like you’ve been moody for the past few days or anything.”

Jaemin throws him an irritated look. Then he runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Sorry.”

Donghyuck waves a hand of dismissal. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I fucked up big time,” Jaemin sighs. “With Y/N.”

“Again?”

“What? No! Do you have no faith in me?” At Donghyuck’s silence, Jaemin kicks his shoe. “No, it’s just… I don’t know. I have no idea what it’s gonna take for them to give me another chance.”

“Didn’t they forgive you already?”

“Yeah, but… you know.”

He doesn’t. You and Donghyuck are more so acquaintances than friends, but even if that wasn’t the case, he thinks nobody in this world could ever know you as well as Jaemin does.

Plus, he’s pretty sure Jaemin’s just making excuses not to put himself out there again.

So, Donghyuck asks, “Have you asked them out again?”

“Well…”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t understand!” Jaemin groans. “I’m scared!”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and starts typing a number into his phone. Jaemin is too busy listing off reasons on why you’d reject him to notice, and only stops his rambling when a groggy voice echoes off the speakerphone.

“Hello?”

Jaemin blinks, confused. “Y/N?”

“Jaemin?” you say, suddenly awake. Donghyuck places his phone in Jaemin’s hands and enters the car to give you two some privacy. “Why are you calling me from Hyuck’s phone?”

“Oh, I…” Jaemin starts, “My phone’s dead.”

“Oh,” you say. Jaemin presses the phone to his ear and closes his eyes as he leans against the hood of the car. “Why’d you call?”

“I, uh…” Jaemin murmurs, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

If he was being honest, Jaemin’s surprised you forgave him so quickly. He thought he would have to grovel a little more, suffer for a few more days, before you finally flashed him a smile and a murmur of “It’s okay.” He asked you about this last night, his curiosity peaking past midnight with the only source of light in his bedroom being the blue light from his phone.

From: Y/N

I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever lied to me?

Unless you did. If you did, you are so done for, Jaem.

To: Y/N

I didn’t! I swear to God I didn’t

From: Y/N

Yeah, I figured

I’m messing with you lol

I trust you

Maybe this means he has a chance. He considers shooting his shot right then and there, but then he glances at the sky, figures now is not the right time. You deserve so much more than a hesitant question whispered into his best friend’s phone, the stars hidden behind a large blanket of clouds.

“I… I couldn’t get you the baking soda.”

A pause. “Oh?”

“Yeah. The store’s closed.”

“Oh,” you whisper with a little more understanding. Softly, you reply, “That’s okay, Jaem.”

four.

For the past few days, Jaemin’s hands have been finding you.

It’s in gentle touches. He pats your shoulder before bidding goodbye, picks off a piece of lint in your hair before flicking it away, brushes your skin with his every time he gives you a gift. Every touch is accompanied with a smile — lambent albeit unsure — and every smile is accompanied with a soft call of your name.

The next time he touches you is when he hands you a bag. It isn’t heavy, but when you peek inside, you frown.

“What is this?” you ask.

He flashes you his signature grin. “What does it look like? They’re shoes.”

His retort is met with silence. Jaemin is left to listen to the bustling of the hallway as you stare at the relatively new sneakers he’s handed you. His grin wavers, ever so slightly, though it really shouldn’t matter because it goes unnoticed.

“I can see that,” you mutter. “But why?”

“Consider it an apology. It’s the least I could do after I… you know…”

“Threw up on me?”

Jaemin huffs. “Yeah.”

You clear your throat, pushing the shoes into his chest. “I don’t think I should take this.”

“What? Why not?”

You shrug, resting the handles of the grey plastic bag on his fingertips before walking around him to head to the exit. He’s quick to follow, barely dodging lingering professors and boisterous students that obscure his path. You don’t bother to slow down, eyeing the time on your wrist with a frown. Fuck, you were supposed to be at the mall five minutes ago.

You glance over your shoulder to see if Jaemin’s still lagging behind you. “It’s nice and all, but I don’t think you ruining my sneakers meant you had to buy me new ones as an apology.”

“I disagree. Besides, I didn’t even buy them! I stole them—!” You halt, causing Jaemin to crash into you. The both of you stagger, struggling to regain your composure. He coughs, muttering an apology before adding, “—from Renjun’s closet.”

“What the hell!” you exclaim. “Why didn’t you say that sooner! I thought you were a felon.”

Jaemin gasps incredulously, ignoring the odd gazes thrown in his direction. “How dare you. You know I don’t have the mental capacity to plan a successful heist. Too tiring,” he tilts his head, “You gotta admit, though, I’d look very good on a wanted poster.”

Silence. You continue walking to the student parking lot.

Another gasp, and then— “Hey, wait, don’t just walk away. Are you disagreeing with me?” An overdramatic whine falls from Jaemin’s lips. You are no match for your own mirth. It doesn’t waver, no matter how much you try to fight the smile that threatens to split your face apart. “Are you calling me ugly?”

“Way to jump to conclusions,” you quip.

His hand clasps around yours, stopping your movements. “You’re not denying it!”

A laugh, caged too long in your chest, escapes. It dances in the air, free. “You’re definitely not ugly, Jaemin. The very opposite, actually,” you pause, “But no matter how much you pout and whine, I will not be taking these shoes.”

“But I stole them just for you!”

(A passerby mutters a “What?” to her friend).

“Yes, it’s very Robin Hood of you to do this for me,” you agree, briefly placing two hands on his cheeks and ignoring the way his skin begins to warm. “But what if Renjun finds out? You know he scares me!”

“Pfft. Renjun would never hurt you.”

Your hands fall from his face and back to your sides. He immediately craves your touch again, even though he’s certain it’ll burn his skin. “I’m not taking these. But thank you,” you give him a smile, a much tamer one this time, but it makes his heart stutter all the same. “Really, Jaemin. I appreciate it.”

I appreciate you, you almost say. From the way Jaemin’s eyes flicker to your lips, you wonder if he knows you almost did.

“I—”

“Y/N! You slowpoke! Hurry up!”

Jaemin snaps his head to the direction of the voice. His lips part at the sight of Yangyang trudging across the quad, hands tucked into his pockets. Despite Yangyang’s impatient words, he’s grinning.

What’s worse, Jaemin thinks, is that you are, too.

You give Jaemin one last look before waving. Before you leave, you promise something. He isn’t quite sure what — maybe you’ll text him tonight, see him tomorrow, email him the answers to the Chemistry practice tests later. Nothing you say can sway Jaemin’s focus from Yangyang’s arm, resting on your shoulder as he drags you towards his car.

A hand reaches into Jaemin’s chest, squeezes his heart.

He tries not to think too much of it.

five.

There are three things needed to spark a wildfire. Oxygen, fuel, and ignition.

Jaemin finds himself in an unfamiliar apartment on Saturday night, glued to Renjun’s side, as his friend drifts across the space like a butterfly soaring through the sky. Tonight is supposed to be carefree, a distraction from looming final exams, but Jaemin can’t help but feel a heavy weight in his pockets. His texts, sent 12 hours ago, are yet to be met with a response, and he’s getting fidgety. So much so that it’s hindering his chance of a good time.

Renjun tries his best to ignore him but all attempts end up futile. Once an acquaintance excuses himself to go to the restroom, Renjun nudges Jaemin and hisses (although he does it in a way that comes off as benign), “Can you stop acting like you’ve got ants crawling up your ass? Y/N will get back to you soon enough. Maybe they’re busy.”

Jaemin sighs, clenches his fist, then nods. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

Renjun looks at him sympathetically. “It’s okay. Just don’t stress.”

He manages to distract himself for a couple more minutes, engaging in conversations despite his dying social battery, and plasters a smile that he hopes Renjun deems decent enough.

This get-together is far different from any of the parties the frat has thrown, but its unfamiliarity tames the waves of worry clouding Jaemin’s brain, if only for a moment.

Everything in him comes alive, though, when the door swings open and a call of your name hangs in the air.

He’s plunged into a pool of relief at the sight of you. It’s almost as if the air has been knocked out of his lungs.

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

Oxygen.

He lazily mutters an excuse to Renjun and another acquaintance before walking towards the door. This conversation is the least of his worries especially when you’re standing in the doorway, radiant as ever.

When you spot him, he swears your eyes light up.

“Hey!” you greet, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Renjun dragged me here,” Jaemin tries his best to appear nonchalant, though the only person he appears to be fooling is himself, “he said I needed a change of scenery.”

“Well, I’m glad he did.”

Something akin to hope settles in the pit of his stomach. “You are?”

You hum. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love these get-togethers, but you make things a little more memorable.”

He grins. He can’t help it. “Just a little?”

“Alright,” you snort. “Don’t push it.”

A buzz. You take your phone out and, at the sight of the notification, your mood dampens — only slightly, but Jaemin notices nonetheless.

“Oh, by the way, did you get my texts?”

“Huh?” you glance up. “Oh. Maybe? Sorry, I’ve been so out of it. You would not believe the day I’ve had.”

“Ah. And here I thought you were ignoring me,” he says it in a way that’s insouciant, but you don’t miss the tension slowly easing out of his shoulders.

“I would never.”

“I mean, you did a few weeks ago.”

You hit his arm playfully. “Okay, well, you deserved that.” You tuck your phone back into your pocket. “I’m really sorry, though. I didn’t mean to screen you. What’d you send, anyway?”

“Nothing important,” he says. Really, it had just been a couple tweets he thought you would find funny. “How was your day?”

Before you can respond, someone enters, heaving. Yangyang, dressed head to toe in black, huffs out a breath as he slips off his dress shoes. He walks over to you, almost slipping when his socked feet meet tile, but he manages to save himself as he hands you a wallet.

Something feels off.

Fuel.

“Holy fuck,” Yangyang exhales tiredly. “You would not believe the kind of shit I had to go through to get that back. You owe me big time— oh! Hey, Jaemin!”

“Hi,” Jaemin replies, eyes flickering between you and Yangyang. It’s at that moment he clocks that the two of you are matching, both in flushed cheeks and attire. Suddenly, Jaemin feels underdressed in his grey hoodie and light-washed jeans. “Uh, you guys look nice.”

“Oh, thanks!” says Yangyang. Then he scans the other people in the apartment. “Wait, what the hell? I thought Lia said to dress formally!”

He gives neither you nor Jaemin time to reply. He’s already off, mingling with others as he hunts Lia down, presumably to question her about the dress code, leaving you and Jaemin in the dust.

You don’t say anything in Yangyang’s absence, so Jaemin decides he’ll bite.

“Why did he have your wallet?”

Your mood has changed. You scratch your neck nervously and give him a smile he can’t quite decipher. This one is different than the usual ones you give him. Is it— tinted with shame?

“Oh,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. Slowly but surely, the tension that was once in Jaemin’s body enters yours. “Funny story.”

Jaemin tries his best to sound lighthearted. “From the way you look it doesn’t seem like a funny story.”

“Got me there,” you chuckle, devoid of hilarity. “It’s— well, I was on a date—”

Oh. That’s why you never responded to him.

Yangyang, always impeccable with his timing, appears in Jaemin’s line of sight again. He isn’t quite sure what Yangyang says — something about the dress code, he assumes. But what he is sure of is Yangyang’s hand around your wrist, dragging you deep into the crevices of the apartment, away from Jaemin.

It all makes sense now. Yangyang dropping by your apartment, Yangyang’s arm over your shoulder, Yangyang arriving the same time as you at a gathering Jaemin didn’t even want to be at.

Any and all hope flies out the window, dissolving in the acidity of his heartbreak.

He pulls out his phone, texts you again, only this one is more formal than the rest.

To: Y/N

Had to go. Sorry we couldn’t talk more. I’ll see you.

He waits a couple minutes but never receives a reply.

Ignition.

Everything in him begins to burn.

one.

It rains on Sunday.

Jaemin finds himself sitting just under the lip of the roof, watching as rainfall creates puddles in the miniature pits in the backyard. The humidity allows for sweat to adhere his clothes to his skin; it’s an unpleasant feeling, one he’s too lazy to fix by getting up and going back inside, so he’s grateful for the sudden breeze that causes him to shiver.

A jacket is suddenly draped over his shoulders. A figure takes a seat beside him.

“What are you doing out here?”

Your presence only adds to the warmth he’s already feeling.

“Oh, you know…” Jaemin murmurs as you make yourself comfortable on the porch, “wallowing.”

“Ah,” you hum. “As one does.”

“As one does,” he repeats.

You let a few raindrops land on your shoes before you ask, “Am I allowed to ask why?”

He kicks a pebble under his feet. “I don’t know. I just feel weird, I guess? I can’t explain it.”

Lie. He knows exactly why he feels under the weather, and from the way your eyes don’t leave his face, you know he’s lying, too.

“Do you feel better than you did yesterday?”

“Hm?”

“Renjun let me in,” you explain, “I asked him what happened to you last night and he said you just weren’t feeling it, so…”

He nods slowly. “Oh! Uh — yeah. Yeah.”

He clears his throat awkwardly. In the corner of his eye, he sees you raise an eyebrow and turn your head towards the backyard, watching as the rain becomes more aggressive, rapidly pattering against any surface it finds, staining the trees and the ground and the wood of the porch.

Inside, he can hear soft murmurs between his frat brothers. There is the occasional laugh and loud outburst, and it tugs on his heartstrings. It’s much happier inside than it is out here — here, Jaemin’s sulking and brokenhearted and you’re next to him, hiding under the blanket of his heartache.

“How’s Yangyang?” he questions before he can stop himself.

You try your best to hide your surprise. “Uh, he’s fine? I haven’t spoken to him at all today.”

“And your date?”

Your eyes light up. Game over, Jaemin thinks as you turn your body to face him, excitement making the rain falter. “Oh, yeah, I was gonna tell you about it last night!” Jaemin sucks in a breath, “It was awful.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Yeah, remind me to never listen to Yangyang ever again,” you snicker with a shake of your head. “He’d been bothering me for months about how I’m, apparently, chronically single. And he thought the only way to fix that was to set me up with a stranger from his Microbio class.”

Jaemin’s moved to look at you dead in the eye now, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to process all the information you’ve just spewed out. “Wait, I’m sorry, what?”

You misinterpret his confusion for incredulity. “Right! But I went along with it, which I really shouldn’t have — I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you about it before I went, but it completely slipped my mind. I guess karma got me back, though, ‘cause the guy was terrible — he was so boring, Jaem. So I went to the bathroom to text Yangyang to pick me up, but I was stupid enough to leave my bag at the table. The guy stole my fucking wallet, so I had to—”

“Wait,” Jaemin interrupts, jaw slack. “So you weren’t on a date with Yangyang?”

You scrunch your nose up in disgust. “No. What?”

Jaemin doesn’t reply.

“Jaemin—”

“Never mind.”

You stare at him as he repositions himself to face the backyard again. The both of you hear more clamor in the kitchen, but it’s all drowned out by the laugh that escapes your mouth.

He lasts about ten seconds avoiding your eye contact — at the sound of your amusement, Jaemin whips his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, covering your mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s not — okay, well, it’s a little funny.”

“Alright, I get it,” Jaemin grumbles, though he softens when you lean on his shoulder for support.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Jaemin shrugs the shoulder you’re not leaning against. “You two were always together, and then you guys showed up at the party at the same time wearing matching outfits, so my mind was like—”

“‘Yangyang and Y/N are dating. Only explanation,’” you finish for him with a snort. “That was just a coincidence. Yangyang and I are friends, Jaemin. I thought you, of all people, would assume that.”

He nudges you. “What’s that mean?”

You nudge him back. “I mean, I thought it was already established that I like you.”

At his silence, you click your tongue.

“I wouldn’t have said yes to a date with you if I didn’t like you, Jaemin.”

“Yeah, but…” he huffs, eyeing the clouds as the raindrops become infrequent and the sky turns a little brighter. “I thought you would’ve given up on me.”

You place a hand over your heart, frowning. “Wow. You think that low of me?”

“No, absolutely not—!”

You squeeze his shoulder with a gentle smile. “Jaemin, I was joking.”

Jaemin sighs in relief, leaning into your touch. “I’m gonna make up for that date, you know.”

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you assure him, “You already have.”

“No, not with flowers and stolen shoes — with dinner,” he pauses, turning his face to meet your eyes. As the sky grows lighter, the red on his cheeks becomes more evident, “if you’ll let me.”

“Will you actually show up this time?” you ask, teasing.

He laughs with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll be there before you even show up.”

When you leave the frat house that night, swollen lips and sweat prickling at your skin, you bump into Lia on her way to class. She asks suspiciously why you’re grinning like a madman — there is no reason for anybody to be smiling this much when it’s this humid outside.

At the mention of Jaemin’s name, Lia softens in understanding. She pats your cheek the same way a mother would nurture her child before saying, “I swear that boy is gonna be the death of you.”

You shrug. You can’t bring yourself to care.

© all rights reserved, dkfile 2023

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: New Neighbor

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[Word count 1210 Cw: blood, foul language]

————————

Even while recovering, Alastor had to be dramatic. So when he dropped you both into the group in front of the rebuilt hotel, his joining the song and grand gestures did not surprise you. What did was Charlie suddenly hugging him and Alastor allowing her.

The princess was stronger than she knew. Alastor was more stubborn than anyone but you realized. So even though his theatrics and her squeeze tore some stitches, he refused to show it. The benefit of entirely red clothing was that a bit of blood wasn’t noticeable.

As soon as you could manage, you insisted the pair of you look over your new suite. Walking to the top floor would have been a struggle and you weren’t up to flying again yet. Fortunately the new building had elevators installed.

Alastor had recreated his broadcast studio on a corner penthouse level and naturally had claimed the closest rooms for you both. He hadn’t recreated the bayou yet, but there were more pressing concerns. Namely redoing his stitches.

Once in the room you ordered, “Sit down Alastor.” You didn’t let him argue as you removed his jacket and shirt. The bandages wrapped around his torso had absorbed most of the blood but now they definitely needed replacing. “Zut alors, you just had to overdo it out there.”

You brought out both a last aid kit and your sewing kit. As you gathered up towels, warm water and disinfectant, you continued to vent. “I know you like to cultivate an air of invulnerability, cher, but that was too much.” Returning to his side you started unwinding the bandages. “Granted you didn’t expect Charlie to hug you like that, but all that flailing about did not help.”

His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. “That’s enough,” he growled hoarsely. His antlers were starting to grow in anger but he didn’t put any pressure on your wrist.

“No Alastor, it’s not,” you replied firmly. You didn’t pull your hand away but you did turn his head to face you. You locked eyes with your husband, staring straight into the radio dials. “If you get hurt, I’m the one that patches you up. If you get hurt doing something stupid, I’m still the one patching you up, but I’m allowed to be angry about it.”

He huffed and released your wrist. You continued unwrapping and cleaning that gash across his chest. “I don’t want to be stitching you back up constantly because you’re pretending to be invincible.” You might have said more but a voice at the door interrupted.

“Lover’s quarrel? You really should close the door if you’re going to do that.”

“Fuck!” you screeched, reflexively launching a stiletto at the voice.

“Whoa!” The figure blinked away in a burst of sparks, popping back into existence next to you. The blade thudded into the hallway.

“Careful there!” Lucifer admonished. “We just built these floors.”

You hissed at the fallen angel. “I wouldn’t have to be careful if someone wasn’t eavesdropping.”

He just smiled as you returned to focusing on Alastor. “Someone wouldn’t be eavesdropping if someone else had closed their door properly.” He leaned down to look at the wound you were starting to stitch together again. “Oof, that from when Adam swung at you? You took quite a hit there buddy.”

Alastor glared at him furiously. “GET. OUT,” he snarled, his ever present smile straining in his anger.

As much as you agreed with him, what Lucifer said made you start. “How did you know Adam hit him? The only ones that saw the fight were the exorcists and me.” Some of your flock might have seen it, but they were rather occupied.

“I was watching the whole time,” he replied blithely. With a snap, he produced an ornate set of opera glasses on an elegant handle. “Had to keep an eye on my little girl in case she needed help.”

“You were just watching?!” You and Alastor yelled together. If he had shown up before the angels arrived, he could have handled everything.

“Yup! Charlie didn’t ask me to join the fight, so I wanted to give her the chance to take care of it.” He paused. “I do feel bad about the snake guy, though. Oh, and that you two got banged up by that douchebag.”

You hissed again, feeling your feathers turn metallic. Still, you turned back to the curved needle in your hand. Alastor’s claws dug into the chair; you couldn’t be sure of it was from anger or the feeling of needle and thread sliding through his skin. Probably both.

“GET OUT,” he repeated, now looking like he’d enjoy tearing Lucifer’s throat out if he wasn’t stuck in place.

“And leave my new neighbors in their time of need?” He shook his head mockingly. “Charlie would never let me hear the end of it.”

You did your best to focus and finish quickly. “Got it back together, cher.” His grip on the chair didn’t ease up. He really is a terrible patient, you thought as you placed a gauze pad on the gash. You reached for a roll of bandages, only to find Lucifer holding it out to you.

Annoyed, you grabbed it with a quiet “merci.” Winding the bandage around Alastor to keep the pad in place, you could feel Lucifer’s gaze on your back. Your husband was getting more and more irritated as the king of Hell kept watching you.

Then, as you finished securing the bandage: “You’re gonna need a splint on that wing.” You blinked in confusion. Alastor was similarly surprised at Lucifer’s statement.

“Never had a wing injury before?” he prodded. You shook your head. “You’re one lucky gal.” He clapped his hands and a small pile of supplies appeared. “It’s got to be stabilized. And no attempts to fly until it’s fully healed if you want it back to normal.” He gestured for Alastor to get up, not caring at all that he was ordering the Radio Demon around. Of course he didn’t, he ruled over all of Hell. He outranked every Sinner, Overlord or not.

With permission, he examined your wing. “Alright deerboy, I’ll show you what to do so you can take care of your missus.” That did seem to calm Alastor down a bit and he begrudgingly let Lucifer demonstrate. Shortly, your wing was braced by thin rods and bandages. “Remember, no flying at all.”

You grumbled, only for Alastor to lean down (slowly, taking his wound into account) and say with exaggerated sweetness, “I’ll be patching you up, cher. And if I have to resplint your wing because you did something stupid, then I’m allowed to be angry, yes?”

Dammit, you thought to yourself. Aloud you said, “Fair enough,” with equal sarcastic sweetness.

Satisfied, Lucifer grabbed his apple topped cane with a twirl. “I’m making pancakes if you two want any.” He sauntered out, humming contentedly.

You sighed gustily. “Let’s get you a new shirt, darling.” As you helped Alastor button up the bright red shirt, he realized something.

“He said ‘new neighbors,’” he stated, the static disappearing from his voice. You both stopped dead, processing what that meant. Meeting each other’s eyes, there was only one thing to say, in unison again.

“Ffffuck!”

———————

Taglist: @whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[yanaleese]

◈ Love Me, Kidnap Me, and Love Me More ◈

Yandere! OC Karma x Calculative! Gender Neutral! MC

VER EN ESPAÑOL. MUY PRONTO

Synopsis: You put blood, sweat, and tears into your work. Little did you know, your secret admirer, Marka does it too.

Content warning: Yandere and literally anything that goes with it, violence, hypnosis (not on reader), drugs (implication), and yes there will be a Part 2

PLEASE SUPPORT PALESTINE WITH MONEY, OR WITH A CLICK

Scores, talents, personas.

THESE are the factors that classify the education system. Although not immaculate, it serves its purpose - to send vulnerable people into the workforce, and devour them whole. Their livelihoods, their time, and the minuscule bits of energy left inside of them.

But there are some who are born with advantages, and some who have to work their ass off for it.

I, unfortunately, have the latter. Things don’t come easy, instant, or perfect. I am actually quite idle, I enjoy the freedom of gaining knowledge and insight. Uniquely, tried and tested knowledge that is critical for survival.

And that, is how I manage my late nights. By listening to “Advice to Survive” with its host, McGregory Callahan.

Back in the 60s, he was a CWO-4 Navy Seal officer, a rank given to an exclusive few. And now that he’s retired, he humbly shares his advice to the community, and showcases guests every now and then to keep the show alive. But majority prefers to listen to his voice, which I strongly agree with.

“And so, ladies and gents…” His voice was smooth and husky. “It’s time to sign off, folks. Stay safe, and always remember…” I chuckled, saying his closing lines with him.

“Live, not die, and try to survive. Thanks everyone.”

As the radio chipped off, the sun poured its rays into my window, as if the heat wasn’t enough. I groaned, my eyes leading me to my collection of “wake-up” capsules. Tempted, and deceived, I slithered my way over to it, dropping another 2 or 3 in my mouth.

I grumbled. Regret seeped into my veins, my body woozy and tense. Once again, I stayed up.

And of course, it happened to be a Monday morning; where I had a morning class. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” I began stuffing my bag with my utensils, paperwork, snacks. I could never get used to this shit. “I hope nobody pisses me off for the rest of the day.”

◈

“The bell. Ugh, the damn bell. Never have I wanted to smash that thing into pieces.” You could barely make out the crowd, more or less. Not even your best friend’s face.

“Wait. You had a rough night…again?” Heidi glared, her eyes were practically glowing with concern.

“Maaaaaaybe.” You slurred, taking baby steps to your seat. “Good thing my seat mate is a quiet kid.”

Speak of the devil, Marka entered the room, his footfalls silent as he strolled to your direction. His timing was impeccable.

“Good morning, Marka.” You mumbled, your eyes not meeting his. Besides, there were no eyes thanks to his bangs.

“Heh…” In response, Marka gave an exciting grin, happily waving a good morning back to you. How he could be energized on a Monday morning, was a complete mystery to you.

Actually, a lot of him is shrouded in mystery. Or rather, in suspicion.

Other than the weird name, Marka was supposedly from the countryside of Honduras, Tegucigalpa. His parents were also from Honduras, and he worked as a pizza delivery driver, and stayed at a friend’s apartment for shelter, with the purpose of redoing college thrice to get a degree. While some of this is true, some of it didn’t add up.

For example, his idioms. Sometimes he would say “Puchica” , “Chero”, “Chivo” - and when I looked them all up, the common denominator was El Salvador. He said his parents came from Honduras, so how can this be true?

“[Y/N].”

Then him, being the pizza delivery driver. You don’t often order pizza, but you’ve never thought that pizza could smell so shitty. You could remember him rushing to one of your afternoon classes, and instead of smelling like oil and grease, he smelt like weed. What the fuck???

“Hello? [Y/N]?”

Plus, the fact that he is redoing the course a third time. And yet, every single exam he is perfectly scoring an average mark. He also ends before everyone else, as if he has all the time in the world.

That’s not normal.

Though you’ve never confronted Marka about this, you preferred to remain silent. Times are harsh, and you weren’t willing to stretch out a hand when you could barely help yourself.

But there is NO way that you’re befriending someone as suspicious as him.

“[Y/N]!!!” Heidi whisper-shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“[Y/N], please answer-“ Mr. Dimmy paused, clearing his throat. “Actually. On second thought, please see me after class. Thank you.”

You bit my lip, letting it bleed. Fuck. You spaced out again.

“Sir I-“

“No buts, no coconuts.”

While cursing yourself internally, you decided to take out your vent book out of your bag, only to be stopped by Mr. Dimmy once more.

“[Y/N]. Can you please answer the question on the board for me, please?”

Shit, you just opened your bag.

“Give me a moment-“

“[Y/N].”

Clenching your fists, you gave a plastic smile. It was understandable where he was coming from, since he didn’t want his star pupil to daydream for the second time.

“My bad, Sir. Hopefully I’ll get this right.”

As you were busy solving the equation, Marka decided to do you a favor and close up your bag. So by the time you came back, Marka grinned, hoping for a thanks to come out of it. But you decided to ignore the kind gesture, continuing to pay attention to the board. You had enough attention for one day.

◈

If there was one thing you loved, it was clocks. It was nice to know how the time passed, whether it was rapid or abnormally slow. And of course, it was slow.

“[Y/N], this has happened on multiple occasions.” Mr. Dimmy rubbed his temples, exhausted from having the same conversation with you. “We, as staff, made it clear that you can take days off.”

“I’m very sorry Sir, but I can’t do that-“

“[Y/N], enough with the excuses. You are not enough getting enough sleep, and it’s affecting your concentration.”

Scores, talents, personas: nothing on this conversation applied to that. Kindness was a pain in the ass.

“And so, I’m going to ask the dean to personally give you a suspension. A whole week suspension.”

You had to hold your tongue. Why do you have to do triple the work???

“Sir. I’m behind on what I need to cover. I’m begging you, please just let it slide.”

“But [Y/N], you are three weeks ahead. Taking a week off is enough right now. Trust me.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 9:47, the minute hand approximately reaching the next minute.

“If I see you Tuesday afternoon, I will personally escort you outside. That is all.”

Rubbing your eyes, you ran to the top of the stairs, before making yourself out. You couldn’t believe what just happened.

“[Y]-[Y/N]…” It was Heidi.

“Heidi. I’m done for the day, so I’m going home. Text me later if you’re curious.” Your demands were quick and stern.

Poor Heidi snuggled her books, her expression shaping into pity and guilt. If only you could just take a break.

◈

“Giggles, after giggles. These fucking cuches don’t know when to quit it, don’t they?”

“Markaaaa…” She snorted, sounding exactly just like he called her: a pig. “Teach me a little Spanish, no?~ ❤️”

Marka shook his head, his face clearly showing discomfort.

“Come on, we wanna hear it! Maybe we can fuck it up, you know?”

Damn that Rico bastard. He never knew how to read a room.

“I said no.” Marka ran his fingers through his bangs, revealing the swirling darkness within his eyes. “Now learn to be good little shits, I’m in a bad mood.”

Immediately, the entire group stood completely still. Before seconds later, horrifying shrieks escaped people’s lips. Some froze in horror, sweating profusely. Others just ran away from Marka, while some fought with him. Luckily, thanks to his physique he could handle his attackers pretty clearly.

“Ha…shame…” He continued to hit Rico with every punch, starting to see blood oozing out of him. Marka couldn’t help but grin in sadistic glee. “This hypnosis is always pure luck for me.”

Grabbing the leg of one of his classmates. Marka twisted, fractured, and even jumped on her leg, which was perfectly in sync with his words.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” Marka cursed out loud, growling in frustration. Every time he thought about you, the feeling wouldn’t go away. “I just wanted to do a good deed. Why. Won’t. They. Love. Me.”

Hearing the classmate’s sharp cry, Marka kicked the person away from him, heading to your locker. It was encased in a shitload of locks, all of them personally made by yourself. You knew how to be efficient and useful.

Too bad Marka knew lockpicking a bit too well. “It’s been a while since my last rejection…so let’s see what’s here now-“

With a clink, he guided his fingers to first few letters he made….only to find them….

Crushed.

“….”

He should’ve been used to this by now. The dust, the grime, the dead spiders. After finally getting a fresh new locker, it was understandable that you cleaned up the space.

But you didn’t. You decided to make your old locker your new dumpster bag instead - including his love letters.'

His scarred thumb clutched the pink envelope, or the crushed up ball that it was. He could remember the time he had to go off on business, missing college for an entire week. He had to stay low due to a shot out, which resulted him gaining a major injury in the shoulder and his left hand. He didn’t mind the injuries due to past experiences, but he was…depressed. Marka couldn’t see anyone, neither be online lest he got found out. It was a decision that both he and José made for his safety.

And so, to satiate his loneliness, he wrote to you. Even though his left hand was twitching in pain, he wrote. Even though his brain was telling him to stop because of the pain; he wrote. He wrote because he knew that you gave him the happiness, the hope that he needed for this world. Yes, you were flawed…but with each other, the two of you could heal one another’s scars. Right?

“….Ha….”

His hands shook in silent rage as dark droplets dropped on to the paper. I’m sure you didn’t know any better, it was simply a misunderstanding. Yes, yes - it was miscommunication.

It was understandable, since he didn’t make it clear. He didn’t flirt with you since it wasn’t your thing. I guess the letters weren’t either.

Maybe he’d have to try something…a bit more drastic.

“I need to know…do they love me…? Do they not? Maybe….”

Clutching the paper in his chest, he started chuckling to himself. No, grinning madly as he stared at the locker in front of him, his face contorted into something twisted and grotesque.

“Maybe it’s time I should pay your house a visit, hmm? ❤️~.”

NOTES:

Cuche = Means pig in Salvadorian slang. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ qᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴋᴀʀᴍᴀ, ᴊᴏsᴇ́ ᴏʀ ʜᴇɪᴅɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ɪɴʙᴏx.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Siren Song 🧜🏽‍♀️🧜🏾‍♀️🧜🏿‍♀️ (Zoro x Sanji x Black!Mermaid!Reader 18+ One Shot)

🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 

Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x Sanji Vinsmoke x Black!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which the siren song that you sing in hopes of finding someone to free you from your curse attracts more than one mate when two of the most notorious and wanted pirates come to search your cave after a shipwreck.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Post Time Skip; Strangers to Lovers; Mermaid!Reader; Black-coded!Reader; Interspecies Sex (kinda); Hypnotism; Seduction/Coercion; Dubcon (but enthusiastic consent is later given); Dom!Zoro & Sanji; sub!Reader; Threesome; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving; Sloppy Cunnilingus + Analingus; Anal Play/Fingering; Double Deepthroat; Facefucking; Cock Drunk; Reader Cums 2x; Unprotected Vaginal & Anal Sex; Double Penetration; Creampie; Analpie; Happy Ending

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Snowbeard). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I had meant to post this in October for spooky season, but that month just wasn’t making time for me lmaoo. Work has been whooping my whole ass. So I decided to post it now for MerMay! I hope y’all like it! -Jazz

*Note: "Ma chéri" means "my darling" in French!

🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 

Another lonesome night among the ocean waves. ‘What a fucking curse indeed,’ you think to yourself, solemnly sighing.

You sit on a flat-surfaced rock, perfect for perching, connected to a series of rocks that lead up to a jagged, rocky mountainside where your cave lies. The soft waves, darkened by night and crystalized by the full, bright moon suspended in the sky, crash against the sandy shore leading into the deep, dark, cavernous cave you call your home.

What you wouldn’t give to have a real house with a real, fluffy bed and kitchen. For the past year, you’ve been eating nothing but fish, seaweed, and crabs, which are all good when cooked over a fire, but damn, you wouldn’t mind a bowl of steaming ramen or sashimi. Not to mention a hot shower.

All of which are not available when you’re a mermaid.

Or a mer-person. Whatever you’d like to call it. Either way, you have a fin instead of legs. It’s a quite beautiful fin–a gorgeous shade of turquoise with shimmering scales that look like diamonds in the sun and moonlight. You also have gills on the side of your ribcage, scales that run up and down your arms, and a seashell bra that you made yourself to hold your breasts up.

Otherwise, you’d just be topless. It has been your only attire for a year now.

You don’t even know what your legs look like anymore. Are they the same as they were a year ago? Could you even walk anymore? You’ve been swimming for so long that you’re not sure you’ll even know how to move your legs once this curse breaks…if it ever breaks.

You’ve been trying for so, so long. The only way to do so is to attract a mate from among the sea with your siren song and lure them to you where you’d proceed to persuade them to give you ultimate pleasure.

Or, bluntly speaking, in order to break the curse, you have to sing a song to attract a man and have him fuck you until you cum.

Then, and only then, will the curse be broken and you’d have your legs back. At least that was what the creepy sea witch told you when you went rummaging around in her shit. God, you wish you could turn back time and redo that entire night. That was the night your entire life changed for the worse.

A year ago, you weren’t a half-human half-fish. A year ago, you were a beautiful, strong, curious human woman who sailed across the Grand Blue in search of adventure. You had no family or friends, so why not just explore the world?

You had been sailing for only a couple months when you stumbled across a strange seaside cave. You had parked your boat near the mountainside before grabbing your sword and exploring the many trinkets and curious creatures of the deep inside the cave.

When you first stumbled across the treasure chest sitting on a lone rock there, you knew you shouldn’t have touched it. But temptation and curiosity got the best of you. So you took your sword and cracked it open by wiggling the blade’s tip around in the padlock.

The chest cracked open instantly, revealing various, glittering stones that could have definitely bought you a bigger boat and a sack of food. You snatched it up and prepared to leave with it…only for your legs to give out on you completely.

With a squeak, you tripped and fell onto the sandy ground, the chest falling with you and spilling all of its goodies. “Da fuck?” you whispered, confused. You looked back at your legs and feet, wondering what’s gotten into them, only to find that they have been replaced with a slippery, flopping tail fin. You screamed, your horror echoing throughout the cave.

“Be quiet, bitch!” a raspy voice ordered. Immediately, your lips stuck together like they were made of glue and no matter how hard you tried to move them apart, nothing worked. You still screamed but your voice was muffled. Quickly, you grabbed your sword from the sand and turned to look behind you at the owner of the disembodied voice.

A woman stood there, dressed in black rags that hung down to her cracked feet and blackened toenails. Her fingers were boney, long, and ringed, her skin an ashen gray color. Hair like seaweed hung in her face where you caught the glitter of many piercings and two coal-black eyes that pierced down at you from where you helplessly lay on the sand.

“Stupid girl,” she snarled, walking right by you with her skirts in her hands. “You should’ve known better than to have come here snooping about. Don’t you know that this is the sea witch’s turf?”

She kneeled down before you, stinking of dead fish and something rotten. You covered your nose at the stench, making her cackle. “Not impressed by me?” she asked, grinning at you with blackened teeth. “Well, I’m not impressed by you either. You’re just another stupid human coming to steal my shit.”

She began to pick up each of her stones, muttering to herself about how dumb mortals are and how they’re only driven by greed. You began to wiggle around, trying to make it to the cave’s exit, but your tail only provided you some movement. Other than that, you were completely stagnant.

Once the witch got her treasure chest together, she stared down at you as if she just realized you were there and were nothing more than a pestering fly. “Ah,” she cackled. “You’re probably wondering about the tail, hm?”

‘You think, bitch?’ you wanted to scream at her. Instead, you just glared daggers up at her and pointed your sword at her. She barely flinched.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You can’t do anything to me, little girl. I could make that sword a snake or a fucking balloon animal if I wanted to.” She smirked down at you deviously. “But I think turning your legs into a useless tail suffices. That’s what you get for entering my domain.”

You began to scream at her through your closed lips, trying to talk. She rolled her black eyes at you and sighed, snapping her fingers. Your lips loosened and you could finally speak: “What the fuck did you do?!” you angrily hollered. “Give me back my legs now! How am I supposed to move around with this?” You pointed at the tail.

“Beats me,” the witch passively answered. “You should’ve thought about that before you came here. Now you’ll have no choice but to lay in the bed you made and embrace your curse.”

You froze at the last word, your stomach flipping. “Wait…did you say that I’m…cursed?” You practically whispered the last word. The witch just stared at you, her lips curled into a wicked smirk.

You began to beg, desperate to have your body back. “Please, miss,” you pleaded, tears springing into your eyes. “You have to turn me back. I’m sorry for coming into your home and trying to steal your shit, I swear! I-I was just exploring and–“

“Save it.” The witch put up a hand, silencing you. “There is nothing you can do to sway me now. This curse is to teach you to beware of places you shouldn’t go near.”

You stared down in horror at your tail, wondering how the fuck you got here. “What am I supposed to do now?” you sobbed. “You can’t just leave me like this! There has to be something I can do if you can’t!”

The witch’s smirk faded, her eyes steely. Finally, she sighed. “There is one thing,” she said and you listened intently, desperate to do anything to free yourself from this curse. “You must sing a song,” she explained, “but not just any song. This tune is designed to lure males across the waters to you, wherever you are.”

She then closed her eyes and began to sing the words in a cracked, broken voice:

“Where the river meets the sea, and the Grand Blue stretches,

I call to the night and hope my sweet voice beckons

The love of a man, strong, sweet, and true

In hopes that my yearning will meet and embrace you.

My loneliness calls and my need is taking toll

On my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.

I wish for a love that will free me from my chains,

And help me find the light in the darkness again.”

“What happens after I’ve lured a man to me?” you carefully asked once her song ended.

You felt as if you just had gotten high and were hallucinating when the witch answered you: “When they come to you, they must take your body as it is and give you ultimate pleasure until you both reach the point of no return. Then, and only then, will the curse be broken and your legs will be given back to you.”

You blinked up at her, wondering if she was serious. “So you’re telling me that if I sing a song and I get a guy to fuck me, I’ll get my legs back?” you raged. “Are you fuckin’ for real right now?”

The witch smiled at you, ever the bitch. “You asked and I answered,” she said. “So if you want your legs back, I suggest you start warming up those vocal cords. Good luck, bitch.”

Then, in a cloud of smoke and the sound of a menacing cackle, she was gone along with her treasure chest, leaving you wiggling and squirming around in the dark with your new limb.

After crying out for the witch for over an hour, you finally took your sword, sheathed it, and dragged yourself to the mouth of the cave before plummeting into the ocean. You were shocked at how well you could breathe underwater as well as swim. Your tail adapted immediately which made it easier to explore the ocean floor. It didn’t take long for you to find the cave you now call your new home.

Since that fateful night, you’ve sat on the same rock and sang the same song. No ships yet. And certainly, no dick that could help lift this stupid curse.

But you won’t give up yet. So just like every dark night, you close your eyes and sing the siren song that the witch taught you all that time ago:

“Where the river meets the sea, and the Grand Blue stretches,

I call to the night and hope my sweet voice beckons

The love of a man, strong, sweet, and true

In hopes that my yearning will meet and embrace you.

My loneliness calls and my need is taking toll

On my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.

I wish for a love that will free me from my chains,

And help me find the light in the darkness again.”

You stare out in the distance for the sight of a ship penetrating the fog among the ocean. Something. A sign of life. Nothing comes. No one is coming for you. After all this time, you’d think you’d understand that.

The tears that drip down your cheeks are fast and fat, plopping into the water that your fin dips in. You sob into your hands, anguish and anger overtaking you. You should’ve known to have never gone into that cave.

Now your entire life is destined to this: singing a stupid song in hopes that a man will come to you and cum in you. Maybe you had died that night in the witch’s cave and are in some watery version of Hell.

After drying your eyes, you slide down the rock and swim through the calm waters back to your cave filled with items from the human world that you’ve collected over time. They are all that reminded you of the life that is now foreign to you. You then drag yourself to a small bed of seaweed and close your eyes, letting the waves and quiet night lull you to sleep.

When you awaken, it isn’t that long later. Actually, you only have a fifteen-minute nap when you are suddenly awakened by voices. You shoot up from your seaweed bed and squint through the darkness of the furthest reaches of the cave. The parts you haven’t explored in the year you’ve been here. You have no idea what is back there, but nothing has bothered you in the time you’ve occupied this space…until now.

The voices grow from harsh whispers in the dark to loud, clear words that echo along the walls. You quickly reach for your sword and hide behind a nearby rock, listening intently on their conversation:

“Move quicker, Mosshead! Nami and Robin are waiting for me back on the ship and I refuse to make them wait any longer!” This voice is deep, undeniably male, and tinged with a slight accent. Maybe French?

The other voice belonging to another male says something under his breath that sounds like Japanese. “You already made ‘em dinner, you simp. They’re not worried about what you do. Now be quiet before I make you.” This voice is much deeper than the other one and raspy.

Though different, both voices are undeniably and incredibly attractive. Sexy, even. They make something stir in your tummy that you thought was long gone.

“Are you sure even this is the right cave?” the French-accented man asks. “Knowing your sense of direction, we could be walking right into the belly of the beast or something.”

“My sense of direction is just fine!” the deep-voiced man growls. The French man just chuckles. “And yes, it is the right cave. This is the exact place that ship got wrecked a couple months ago. You know, the one Snowbeard’s crew was on?”

Snowbeard. You haven’t heard that name in ages, not since he crashed into your cave anyway. You had just been chilling on a rock when his pirate chip ventured on you, blocking out the sun. The next thing you knew, you were fighting off his big, hulking self, his crew, and the nets they tried to use to capture you.

“Take her alive, boys!” the old, white-bearded pirate ordered, grinning greedily at you. “She’ll be worth more if I get her while she’s breathin’!”

You had fortunately escaped thanks to your quick swimming, but didn’t count on them following you. When you dove under the water near your cave, Snowbeard made a miscalculation and crashed into the side of your cave. No one died though––the captain and his crew had managed to retreat on inflatable boats as the old pirate screamed and proclaimed his revenge on you.

“Stupid bitch!” he angrily shouted, shaking his fists at the blue sky above. “I’ll get her. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find that mermaid and take her myself, whether she’s alive or dead.”

That scared you half to death to say the least. Since then, you’ve been wary to come out in daylight and Snowbeard’s things have been left to sink to the bottom of the sea or rust in your cave.

“Sooo why are we in here again?” the French man asks. The sound of footsteps draws nearer, coaxing you farther behind the rock. “To look for some loot and take it back to the ship,” the deep-voiced man replies. “Well, for me, at least. You seem to be more interested in that stupid ass song you heard.”

“And that you heard too!” the French man yelps. "Don’t deny it! You wouldn’t be here with me if you didn’t.” You nearly stop breathing. Song? They heard your song? Could they possibly be here for…you?

The deep-voiced man clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and you picture him rolling his eyes. “Whatever. I’m more concerned about all that coin that was rumored to be somewhere in here from the shipwreck.”

You can hear him getting closer, the thud of boots unmistakeable. You clutched your sword tighter, angling it in a way that you’ll be able to thrust and stab if they come near you.

Your eyes flit to the cave wall, seeing their shadows flit in the moonlight. They’re getting closer. They’ll find you.

The French man hums indifferently to himself. “Didn’t that song sound…I don’t know…sad to you?” He asks. "And that voice…”

He pauses, sighing wistfully to himself. “It was so, so beautiful, yet so broken. It was filled with such yearning and need and oh, shit!” His adoring rambling is cut short when he happens upon your rock and gets nothing but a sword in his face.

You can now see that his face matches his attractive voice: a square jaw, plump lips, and a green eye that matches his cropped hair and the pants he wears on those thick thighs; pectorals that push against his cotton shirt where you can see a peek of his chiseled abs and tan skin; big, beefy arms and hands that clench at his sides where his swords are.

His partner is just as alluring. He is taller, skinnier, and shorter than the big, buff swordsman…and also more classier dressed. He wears a suit with slacks that cover his long legs and has blond hair that hangs slightly in front of his face, covering one of his grayish-blue eyes. He is just as handsome with a goatee and a cigarette hanging from between his kissable lips. One of his twirly eyebrows raises in surprise at the sight of you.

Meanwhile, the swordsman chooses violence immediately. “What the fuck?” he bellows, immediately reaching for his sword strapped to his hip, but the blonde French man stops him. “Wait, wait!” he shouts. “Don’t touch her!”

The green-haired swordsman glares at him confusedly. “And what? Let her get us with that big ass sword?”

You continue to clutch the sword out, prepared to fight if necessary despite your tail. “Get back,” you growl. “Both of you stay away from me!” You switch between both of them, baring your teeth as if that will make them beware you even more than the sword in their faces.

The blonde pushes the swordsman’s hand down and backs him away from you. “Okay, okay,” he soothingly says. “We’re staying away, not touching you or being threatening in any type of way. We’re sorry we startled you, miss. I-Is this your cave?” He looks around your home, admiring the trinkets.

“Yes,” you snap. “And you two need to leave now if you know what’s good for you.” The swordsman rolls his emerald eye at you. “Relax, lady,” he growls. “We’re just here to check out this cave for shipwreck stuff. We have no interest in you or your…is that a fucking tail?”

You realize they are both now gawking straight at your tail, their eyes trailing over its scales and the fin that flaps about. You squeak in fear, hiding it behind the rock.

“Why…you’re a mermaid!” the blonde gasps, his eyes turning into literal hearts. “What a beauty you have! But, of course, such a beautiful creature deserves one.” He gives you a dashing smile, putting on the charm. “What is your name, may I ask?”

You weigh your options for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell them your name or anything about you. But they don’t seem too threatening, even the swordsman despite his scowl. “Y/N,” you answer.

The blonde bows to you, comically so. “Lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sanji Vinsmoke and this green-headed bitch behind me is–“

“Zoro,” the swordsman rasps. “Roronoa.”

Your ears perk in recognition at the sounds of their names. “From the Strawhats? Monkey D. Luffy’s crew?”

The duo share glances, Sanji looking happier than Zoro that you know who they are. “I know you. You’re part of the most notorious pirate crew in the world. I’ve heard of what you’ve done for others. You…help people.”

You say this last part to yourself as your head travels farther from your body, recounting all of the stories you’ve heard about the Strawhats. For the past several years, you’ve heard of their doings, helping others from across the sea. You’ve always been so impressed in them, admiring their work and their adventures. Now that you’re here meeting two members, you realize just what can be done to help you…hopefully.

“Well, we’ve traveled a bit and have helped a few enslaved villages,” Sanji chuckles, fixing his tie. He peers down at you, his brows knitted in concern. “Are you in need of some sort of assistance, sweet lady? How can we help?”

Zoro elbows him hard, glaring at him and his pain. “Are you nuts?” he growls. “We barely even know her!” Sanji recovers quickly and elbows Zoro back. “Exactly! So maybe this way, we can get to know her!”

Zoro grimaces at the blonde. “Why? So you can get your dick wet? You can’t even do that on the ship with Nami and Robin.”

Sanji’s face suddenly goes redder than a tomato and you nearly see steam coming out of his ears. “Why, you fucking–”

“The song,” you interrupt them. The duo stop their arguing and stare at you cluelessly. “You heard my song.” The realization clears the fog over their faces. Zoro blinks at you, his face in a permanent scowl. “Wait…that was you? You sang that?”

You slowly nod at him, your heart thundering in your chest. So both of them did hear it! That can only mean…

“I told you it was real, you bloke!” Sanji guffaws, slapping his knee. “You thought I was crazy, but–”

“You heard me,” you interrupt him. You’re breathless, feeling winded as the realization hits you: your help is here. Finally. “You came. Then that means…you’re here for me.” You stare up at your two attractive saviors. They can help you. They have the power to do so. Sanji and Zoro give you similarly confused scowls as if you just spoke gibberish.

“Please,” you beg. You put the sword down and reveal yourself to them from behind the rock. You show them your seashell bra, gills, and tail, watching awe register across their faces. “I need your help. I’ve been stuck with this fucking tail for a year now by this stupid witch and now I-”

“Wait, wait, slow down, darling,” Sanji says. “You need to slow down a bit so we can understand you.” His soothing voice coaxes you to stop and take a breath. “Okay,” you sigh, gathering your thoughts. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so long since I’ve spoken to anyone or told anyone about this.” Zoro quirks an interested eyebrow. “About what?” he probes.

And so, you tell them everything from the very beginning of that fateful, dreadful night. You watch them intently as you give them every detail, right down to the witch’s nasty ass toenails. Confusion, awe, and a twinge of fear register across their handsome faces until you finally finish.

Silence swells around you three for a moment, intensified by the cave. “So you’ve been cursed as a mermaid all this time and you sing that song in hopes that someone will come to free you?” Sanji asks.

You frantically nod, though you leave out one important part: that you have to be fucked in order to be freed. And since there are two males who were lured after your song, that means you’ll have to fuck both…which is fine with you. To be honest, they’re attractive enough that you’d probably enjoy it and you’re so horny that you’d fuck anyone at this point…well, maybe you’re reaching with that. You still have standards, curse or not.

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Zoro asks, giving you an accusatory squint with one eye. Sanji gives him a criticizing glare.

“Why would I lie about this, swordsman?” you scoff. “I’m miserable here! I can’t get back home and I’ve lost my entire life because of this!” You point at your tail that swishes around in irritation and impatience, almost like a cat’s tail.

Zoro purses his lips at you. “Which you got from your own choice, might I add.” You flush with anger. Why is he making this so hard for you? “Why should we help you?” he continues, squinting at you. “We don’t even know you.”

“And yet I could’ve killed you from entering my domain,” you shoot back. The swordsman opens his mouth to argue further, but nothing comes out. You’ve stumped him. Sanji sniggers, earning an elbow in the stomach.

“Listen,” you sigh. “I know this is strange, but I wouldn’t be asking you of this if I didn’t need this. And after we’re through, we can part ways like this night never happened.”

The pirates give each other a look, silently conversing with one another before turning back to you. “Well, how exactly do we free you?” Sanji asks.

Oh, right. You didn’t get to that part. “Um…well…” You nervously bite your lip, trying your best to make this sound as normal and less nasty as possible. “You’d have to…make love to me. Something about accepting my body as it is now to free me.”

As you suspected, both men stare at you like you’re unhinged. “I know this sounds insane and you have every reason to refuse, but I’m so desperate right now!” you practically sob. “I’ve been stuck in this body for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be human.”

You press your hands together in a prayer, fat tears sticking to your lashes. “Please, help me. Please!” Sanji kneels before you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Shhh, darling,” he hushes you. “I’ll help you.”

Zoro is just as shocked as you are. “Are you serious?” He asks. The love chef looks over his shoulder at the swordsman, sticking his nose up at him. “Well, you’re not exactly making a move. Now leave so we can have some privacy.” He then turns his attention back to you, his eyes filled with lust and charm.

You once again nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, unaware that the act is getting to Sanji and Zoro. “W-Well…it’d have to be both of you since I lured both of you with my song.”

Sonja’s eyes widen and his cigarette falls out of his mouth. “Wait…him too?! Forreal?! He doesn’t even know what to do with a woman!”

Zoro glares at the love chef. “Oh, and you do?” he barks. “Most women run away from your pervin’ ass!”

“But…are you two up for it?” you ask, looking between both of the sexy strangers. The question seems to stump the two who stare at each other, coming to a decision. Finally, Zoro sighs and lowers his swords. “Only if he don’t get in my way,” he grumbles. “And only if you do whatever I say.”

Your heart leaps with joy though you also feel apprehensive. Having sex with strangers is by far the riskiest thing you’ve done in your chaotic life…but if it means getting rid of your curse then so be it. You’ll do anything to be human again!

The men are just as nervous as you are. Zoro clears his throat as he kneels, a blush on his tan cheeks. “So how do we start this?”

Sanji gives you a wobbly smile, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. “Pardon my nerves,” he sheepishly says. “I’m afraid I can’t make love to a woman if I don’t really know her first.”

You understand and you have a solution. One of the perks of being a mermaid means you have ‘special powers’. “I can help,” you seductively whisper, your tone change shaking the pirates. “Just look at me.”

They do as you say and stare into your eyes. You lock your eyes with them, only needing a few seconds to peer into their minds and deep inside their souls. You take all of their anxiety, all of their stress, and all of their apprehension. You leave nothing but pleasure, calmness, and an undying need for you. The same need you have for them.

Instantly, the pirates are put at immediate ease, both of them sighing, their muscles loosening and their bodies relaxing. Sanji’s eyes flutter closed, his long lashes fanning his cheeks. “Fuck, that feels…nice,” he sighs. “I feel so calm.”

Zoro nods, his thick muscles and shoulders practically melting. “Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “And so…so…fuck, what did you do to us?” He scowls at you, though it is empty. All you can see is lust and need in his pretty, green eyes. All for you. Just the way you want.

“I just used some hypnotism to relax you and make it so your inhibitions won’t be so constrained,” you explain. To put it bluntly, you made them pitifully horny for you.

While Sanji looks surprised, Zoro is livid. “Hypnotism?!” he bellows. “You hypnotized us?! We didn’t…fuck…w-we didn’t ask you to…goddammit!”

He begins breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Your powers are working overtime on him. Sanji too! The man looks like he can’t wait to get his hands on you, whimpering quietly to himself.

You put a hand on Zoro’s arm, the slightest touch making him jump. You can feel his muscles pulsing under your fingertips, a testament to how needy he is. “Don’t fight it,” you gently tell him. “It will only make it worse.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lap, seeing a hard bulge already making its appearance. Sanji is just as worse off, his cock pressing against his pants. You lick your lips at the lewd sight of both of their dicks straining and throbbing for you. Soon, you’ll have them all to yourself.

You lean in towards Zoro, your eyes falling onto his plump lips. “Please,” you whisper in the small space between your lips. “Help me.”

Suddenly, Zoro stops fighting and gives in to his inhibitions. His green eye darkens, exciting you. “You want our help?” he mutters. “You’re gonna have to beg a little bit better than that.”

Sanji moves behind you, pressing himself against you so you feel the outline of his cock against your backside. “Listen to him, ma chéri,” he teasingly whispers to you. “And since there’s two of us, you’ll have to listen to me too.”

His arms, less bulky than Zoro’s but sill sinewy with muscle, wrap around you. You quietly gasp, your body coming to life. His touch feels so good. So warm. You need more.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please save me. Free me. Just fuck me.” Zoro inhales, taken by your plea, while Sanji laughs in your ear. “So vulgar,” he tsks. “You should’ve said ‘make love’, darling.” His lips begin to lightly peck your neck and shoulders, his kisses warm and soft.

Zoro presses his calloused palm against your cheek, shivering at the way you press your face into his ouch. “Not for a needy thing like her. She needs something more.”

His thumb moves against your boom lip, playing with it. “Don’t you?” he questions. You desperately nod. “Then we’ll give it to you, but we’ll have to do everything we say, understand?” Again, you nod, pressing a kiss to his thumb.

“And tell us exactly how to please you,” Sanji adds. “I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of making love to a mermaid before, and I’m sure Mosshead hasn’t either.” If looks could kill, Sanji would be dead right now from the way Zoro stares at him. “Can we start by kissing?” you nervously ask.

The pirate duo are happy to oblige. “Come here,” Sanji whispers, turning your face to meet him. But before he can lay one on you, Zoro beats him to the punch and moves his head in front of Sanji’s to lay his lips on yours. “Hey!” Sanji growls.

Zoro ignores him, kissing you passionately, the kiss growing more heated and rougher with every second. You both moan into the kiss, diving deeper and deeper into each other’s lips and the feelings it invokes. His kiss is rough and needy; nasty with the way he swirls his tongue with yours; playful with the way he nibbles on your bottom lip and allows you to do the same to his.

You wrap one arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. His big hands begin to slide down your body, feeling your scales and gills against your fingertips. Sanji does the same, kissing down your scaly back. They don’t shy away or cringe from your imperfections and differences. They treat you like you’re the sexiest, most precious thing in the world to them.

“Turn around, darling,” Sanji whispers. “I want to taste you too.” You tear yourself away from Zoro, but keep one of your arms locked around his head. You do the same to Sanji, letting him put his head through the hole of your other arm to reach you.

He presses his lips to yours, moaning as soon as your mouths touch. His kiss is less rough and urgent than Zoro’s, but it is just as passionate. He takes his time getting to know your mouth, his tongue asking for permission to slip into your mouth by gently caressing your bottom lip. You part your lips, allowing him entrance, and busy yourself with the sloppy kiss while Zoro kisses your neck.

Their hands on you feel so good yet so agonizing, fire licking across your body. You need more. Anticipation flares inside of you, quickly boiling. You pull away from a panting Sanji, a string of saliva connecting to your bottom lips. “Take off your clothes,” you demand, your voice breathless and needy. “I need you both naked.”

The two men smirk at you, loving how eager you are. “Such a needy lady,” Sanji chuckles, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “You should probably join us though, darling. After all, we can’t be the only ones indecent.”

“How the fuck do you take this off?” Zoro growls, his thick fingers impatiently trying to get your seashell bra off. While Sanji barks that he’ll break it if he isn’t careful, you giggle and show Zoro how to take off your bra.

You let it fall, revealing your perfect breasts and hardened nipples to them. You relish the way they stare at you, eyes widen with lust and awe. “Fuck,” Zoro sighs, bringing his hands up to grasp your titties and give them a squeeze. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

“That’s something we can agree on,” Sanji murmurs, unconsciously rutting himself against your backside. “Apologies, darling, but I need to get these fucking pants off.” You smile at him, seductively so. “What’s stopping you?” You purr.

The two men hurry to strip themselves of their clothes, tossing off their shirts and pants, even their shoes and socks. You admire their bodies as they take off each article of clothing, your eyes hungrily drinking in their muscles and sun-tanned skin. When they are finally just in their undies, they wait for you to give them the green light on what to do next though their shafts throb with need.

“Stand up for me,” you softly demand. They scramble to do so, trying to beat each other to the punch. You coax them to lean against the rock behind them before you loop your fingers through the waistband of their briefs. They watch you, cheeks flushed, hearts thumping, their bottom lips caught between their teeth.

You only have to peel the waistbands of their undies down a few inches before both of their cocks are popping out from below. Your eyes widen in delight at their opposing sizes and lengths, already imagining how they’d feel in either of your holes. While Zoro is girthy, thick, and tanner with a beautiful pink head, Sanji is longer and skinnier but curves upward, protruding from a nest of blonde curls.

“Shit,” you moan, hungry for them, your pupils dilating at the impressive appendages. “You both are so pretty.”

Sanji blushes at the compliment while Zoro clucks his tongue indifferently. “A cock can’t be pretty,” he argues. All of that fight dissipates though when you wrap a hand around his shaft, slowly stroking it upward.

“But your cock is pretty, baby,” you protest. “So hard and beautiful…Both of yours are. Let me show you.” And so you begin to stroke both of them at the same time, getting used to how they feel in your hands, your thumbs caressing their heads every time you stroke up.

The pirates softly moan and purr encouragingly at the feeling of your slender, soft, warm hands pumping their cocks, their bodies melting against the rock. “Fuck,” Zoro moans, tossing his head back, exposing his thick neck and Adam’s Apple to you. “Put another spell on me, why don’t ya?”

You giggle, giving his shaft a tantalizing lick that makes him shiver. “Don’t tempt me, pretty boy,” you purr, the nickname damn near making the swordsman combust. His moans are deep and soft, bubbling up from his chest.

Sanji’s moans are louder and sluttier, his voice echoing throughout the cave and bouncing against the walls. “God, darling!” He groans. “Y-Your hand is so…s-so…fuck!”

Zoro laughs at his partner despite his body shivering and trembling at your touch. “Damn, Sanji, it’s only her hand,” he cackles. “Can’t handle it, huh?” The love chef glares at him, sweat glistening on his forehead. “F-Fuck you,” he stammers.

“Uh-uh, baby,” you gently critique. “You should be fucking me.” Keeping your eyes locked with his, you wrap your juicy, soft lips around his throbbing, long cock, finally taking him into your mouth.

Sanji’s eyes grow wide at the sight, barely able to handle it. “Oh, fuck yes,” he groans, his hand moving to your head. “God, ma chéri, you’re so good to me. How is it you’re this good?”

You have no clue being that it’s been a year since you sucked dick. But the act comes so naturally to you. You bob your head up and down his length, gathering spit to help you suck on his cock better. Saliva drips down your chin as you gag all over his cock, pumping him in and out of your mouth.

Sanji watches you from behind the slits of his eyes, his hips struggling to keep still. Noticing, you pop off of his cock for a moment with a gasp, inhaling. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “Fuck my mouth, baby. Take what you need.”

Those words are enough for Sanji to finally break. Once you slide back onto his cock, he grips your hair with enough strength to keep you there but not enough to make you feel trapped. He then begins rolling his slender hips into your mouth, his balls touching your chin as you gag and slobber on his dick. “O-Oh, my God,” he moans. "Ma chéri, your mouth is so perfect.”

Zoro watches his partner fuck you, in awe at how good you take that long dick down your greedy throat. His own cock pulses and throbs in your hand, his hips unconsciously fucking your palm, imagining it to be your pretty face. He finally can’t take the waiting anymore and wraps a hand around his cock. “Ain’t I here too?” He huffs. “C’mon, babe, I need your mouth too.”

You smile despite Sanji’s cock in your mouth, gently tapping the love chef’s hip. He gets the message and slides out of your mouth, his cock now shining and dripping in your spit. “I thought you’d never ask,” you breathlessly reply and envelope him into your mouth finally.

Zoro’s cock is thicker so it stretches your mouth out in a way Sanji’s didn’t. You can feel it as it plunges down your throat, insisting that you take it deeper. Unlike Sanji, Zoro doesn’t wait for you to tell him to fuck your throat. He does it anyway, gripping your hair to give him leverage as he pumps his hips back and forth, sliding his cock against your tongue and hollowed cheeks.

“Goddamn!” Zoro hisses, watching the way his dick disappears and reappears between your plump lips, saliva bubbling at the corner of your mouth as your throat expands around his shaft. “The love chef is right about one thing: your mouth is perfect, baby.”

“I told you,” Sanji hums, lovingly running his fingers through your hair while he slowly fucks your hand that is now sodden wet from your saliva and his dripping pre-cum. “She’s a wonder of the Grand Blue.”

Zoro grunts in agreement, a loud moan leaving his body as your free hand massages his heavy balls. “Oh, you’re a slut,” he breathlessly chuckles. “You can’t help but want all of me.”

“And me!” Sanji whines, quickly becoming more turned on at the sight of the swordsman using your throat like it’s a toy. “God, Zoro, relax. She’s a woman, not a pocket pussy!”

Zoro glares at him, pissed that he is ruining his fun and his concentration. “Tell her that; not me. She’s enjoying this shit.” And you are. Your ‘pussy’ is throbbing from having both dicks all to yourself plus the luxury of having two sexy men fight over you.

Speaking of fighting, Zoro is currently at war with the urge to cum. “God, baby, you’re too good at this,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.”

“No, no!” Sanji shouts, prying the swordsman’s hand off of your head so you can retract yourself from his cock. “You can’t cum in her mouth. It has to be inside of her to free her, remember?”

“I know that!” Zoro barks, still laying a hand on your head. “I was only tellin’ her to warn her.”

“Then you’d better switch with me and let me fuck her mouth a little more,” Sanji argues. “You’ve been too greedy. Don’t forget, I’m here too, Mosshead.” Zoro rolls his eyes, not looking too happy at sharing. “Fine, but don’t take so long.”

So the two share you, passing you around like a hot potato, fucking your mouth like it’s no one’s business. They shower you with praise and encouragement, telling you to take them deeper, calling you a “good girl”. Their words make you wetter, your slit throbbing impatiently. You want to get filled the same way your throat is.

“You’re doing so well, taking us at the same time like this, darling,” Sanji lovingly says. “What can we do to repay you for your kindness, hm?” Zoro seems to want to know too because he slips his cock out of your mouth so you can answer, but still ruts himself against your hand.

You don’t hesitate telling them what you need: “I want you to taste me,” you imploringly answer. “I want you to touch me.” The two smile at your neediness, their hands caressing your face and hair.

“Tell us how,” Zoro says. Though it sounds like a demand, you can tell that he is just as eager to please you as Sanji is judging by how quickly he gets on his knees to reach you better. “I’ve never been with a mermaid before.”

You smirk at him, causing him to blush. “Oh, really?” You ask. “I’d expect such a renowned swordsman to have been with plenty of women.” Sanji chuckles, earning a hot glare from the swordsman. “I’m just teasing you,” you giggle, pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips. “I’ll show you both how to touch me.”

Sanji kneels down with Zoro, both of them paying close attention to your anatomy. You lay back against a bed of seaweed and run your fingers over your throbbing slit several inches below your belly button. “Here,” you breathlessly say. “Right here.”

The two stare at it, realizing that it has its own puffy lips that are glistening in your wetness. Sanji, salivating at the sight, struggles to speak. “Is this your…y-your—“

“Pussy,” you finish, giggling at his stutter. “It’s just a slit, but it’s just as sensitive as one. My tail too.” You flap your tail around, pointing at your fins.

“You like bein’ touched here?” Zoro curiously asks. You nod. “On my fin and my scales. Just light stroke them with your fingertips. I’m very sensitive there.”

‘Please touch me there,’ you beg in your head. ‘Touch me anywhere.’ Your body burns like a flame, desperate to be touched, felt, and held. You are touch-starved and the way these men move their hands is making your appetite worse.

While Sanji stays at your side, Zoro moves down to your tail, gently placing it in his lap. “Like…this?” He probes, gently running his fingers down your scales. Your back arches and a whimper leaves your lips, his fingertips leaving a trail of pleasurable sparks in their wake. Zoro smirks at your reaction.

“Oh, she’s a sensitive one,” Sanji coos. “We’ll be careful with you, darling girl. Just relax.”

Then, gently and slowly, the French man begins sucking and licking up, down, and around your slit, exploring your wet folds. A loud moan that bounces off of the cave walls explodes from your body, finally unlocked from the treasure chest within you. “Hey!” Zoro barks. “Why do you get to go first?”

Sanji, pissed at being interrupted, turns to glare at his partner over his shoulder. “You’re down there with her tail, aren’t you?” He scoffs. “Shut up and keep stroking. If you don’t, I’ll take your spot there too.”

He then goes back to making out with your ‘pussy’, giving you gentle strokes with his tongue. You gently place your hands on his face and aim his face downward, his nose rubbing up against your clit.

The love chef hums and moans in pleasure just as you do, loving your taste and how wet you are. Even better are the sounds you make: desperate and beautiful moans, whimpers, and gasps drawn out of your body that echo in the empty sea cave with no one to witness but the two men currently pleasuring you.

Zoro moves his calloused fingers down to your tail fins, gently stroking up and down with his thumb and forefinger. His other one plays with your scales, his fingers tracing them like one would guitar strings. You can only describe the feeling as having a thousand tiny clits that are repeatedly stimulated. It’s a glorious, wonderful feeling.

“Oh, sh-shit!” You gasp, sensitive from such stimulation. “That feels s-so fucking good!”

Zoro picks his head up to intently look at you, a proud smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah?” He teasingly asks, his green eye piercing into yours. “I bet I’m makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I, baby?” He leans down to begin kissing down your scales, his tongue poking between his lips to gently slide down your tail. You damn near cum right there.

Sanji is still becoming acquainted with your slit, his tongue swirling about between your lips and against them while his nose swipes against the hood of your clit. He ticks his hooded eyes up to meet yours, hearts practically floating in them as he stares at your pretty tits and parted mouth as you moan. “And me too?” He asks, desperate to hear you say it. “Am I making you feel good too, darling?”

He does some kind of trick with his tongue that touches some spot inside of you that nearly makes you cum right there all over his face. ”Yes!” You whine. “Yes, yes, right here!”

Your hands grab his blonde hair, fingering his locks and keeping him locked against your cunt. He hungrily eats at you, his hands moving underneath you to hold your ass. When he pulls away, his mouth is sodden wet from you and he eagerly licks at his lips. “You’re so wet here, mon chere,” he gasps, his finger lightly toying with your pussy lips. “I could just slide my finger in.”

You flush at the idea, having already thought about it. “Um…you can,” you shyly say. “But can you both share?”

Zoro and Sanji look at each other, surprisingly not put off with the idea. Zoro quirks an eyebrow at you and you feel his hard cock nudge at your tail. “You want us to eat you out at the same time?” He asks. Sanji tuts, moving over to make room for the swordsman. “So desperate for us.”

And they give you exactly what you want. They take turns eating and slurping your wet pussy slit, licking and sucking your clit while the other fingers your slit, hooking either one or two upwards to stroke your G-spot. Sanji’s fingers are slender and long, perfect for piano, while Zoro’s are thick and fill you up.

They each offer copious amounts of saliva, spitting on your pussy even when the other has their fingers in you. But neither seem to care, too focused on making you lose your everloving mind.

And you are. Broken moans and high-pitched whines leave your lips, your hands gripping their hair and any part of their bodies for dear life. “Oh, my God,” you moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re both so good at this!”

Sanji’s mouth leaves your clit to leave kisses on your breasts instead, his hands groping what his mouth isn’t stimulating. You go to rub your clit, but Zoro firmly places your hand on your stomach. His eyes are fierce and stern, exciting you. “Uh-uh,” he firmly says. “Don’t touch her. She’s ours right now.”

‘She’s ours’. Your pussy is theirs. You feel yourself shiver, enjoying the idea of you being theirs.

Sanji presses a kiss to your panting lips, sucking gently on your tongue. “Put us where you want, darling girl,” he implores. “Show us what you need.” And when he goes back down to join his partner in feasting on your cunt, you push his head down onto your slit while Zoro finger fucks you.

The two don’t switch this time, probably because your moans have grown louder, signaling your end nearing. You can feel it the more Zoro’s thick digits curl up to fuck you, emitting lewd, wet sounds as they swirl in your wet slit. You can feel it the more Sanji makes love to your clit, swirling his tongue around and around. That knot in your core tightens with each second, threatening to snap.

“Oooh, fuck!” you croon. “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum! I’m gonna…gonna…!”

You can feel it. Just something more. A little more to give you that push. The swordsman is that push, his rough, velvety voice reaching your eardrums to encourage you to finally let go.

“Cum, baby,” Zoro moans. “Give it to us. We’ve got you.” Sanji hums in agreement into your slit, his tongue moving in perfect time with Zoro’s thrusting fingers.

Finally, you break and with a loud, ear-shattering moan, you cum all over them. Their mouths, their fingers, and their chests become covered in your cum…or squirt when you finally realize that you’re squirting. You didn’t even know mermaids could squirt!

Zoro shoves Sanji out of the way to get himself a taste, but Sanji is too busy laughing with joy at your loud orgasm to get mad. “My, what a voice!” He laughs. “Such lungs on you, ma chéri. I suppose you needed that?”

You slowly nod, coming down from your high. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “Thank you.”

You stare at both of them with such gratitude that Zoro blushes despite having just swallowed your squirt. He awkwardly wipes his mouth with his hand, his cheeks red. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “So, uh…do you still want to—“

“Yes,” you giggle, sitting up and staring into their eyes. “Yes, I do. I don’t care who goes first; just as long as you’re both in me.”

Your libido is still high as is your need. You want both of them on you, in you, now. At this point it’s less about the curse and more about wanting to be filled and fucked by these two sexy idiots.

The two stare at each other, silently trying to come to an agreement. “I go first,” they say in unison then immediately become irked. “Why you?” They ask each other, quickly growing angrier at the fact that they share the same brain.

“Because you had her mouth first,” Zoro snaps. “Ya didn’t even ask me if I wanted first dibs!” Sanji opens his mouth to retort but then stops, pausing to think it over. “He does have a point,” you mutter.

“Yes, but…you’re too big!” Sanji argues, motioning to Zoro’s big body. “You might crush her or be too rough! You can’t just fuck her like you did her mouth. You need to take your time to get to know her body.” The two begin to go back and forth like two kids, tossing in immature insults and stupid nicknames.

As hilarious as the scene is, you can feel your slit throbbing impatiently and your need quickly growing to new heights. “Boys,” you firmly say, grabbing their attention. “Instead of fighting, why don’t you both just fuck me together?”

The duo blink at you, confused. “How?” Sanji asks, perplexed. “You mean…one gets your pussy and the other gets your…oh.” When he realized where that other dick is going, his cheeks grow hot. “What?”

Zoro snaps. “What does she mean?”

Sanji sighs and whispers to him, making the swordsman turn as red as a tomato. “Um…are you okay with this?” The blonde nervously asks.

You’ve never been more okay with something in your life, you realize. You know in your heart of hearts that these two will take care of you, casual sex or not. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t, pretty boy,” you giggle. “Are you okay with it?”

You look between the two, searching their faces for apprehension or any signs of second guessing. Despite their obvious nervousness, Zoro shakes his head, a determined scowl on his face. “Well…I suppose it is fair,” Sanji mutters. “We’ve shared her since the beginning, so why not continue?”

He turns to Zoro, puffing out his chest. “I-I’ll take the back if you want the front. Just as long as you don’t hurt her and you’re not too rough!” The swordsman rolls his emerald eyes, shoving the blonde out of the way. “Oh, shut up,” he huffs.

You suddenly find yourself being scooped up bridal style by Zoro, your tail flapping happily at the sweet act. You giggle and wrap your arms around his thick neck, leaning your head into his chest. He leans against a rock, keeping you against him, while Sanji stands behind you, his cock bobbing against your ass. Feeling yourself be sandwiched between both of them, your hands running over their muscles and abs, is enough to make you reach climax.

You keep your arms locked around Zoro’s neck, his face just inches from yours. “Is this okay?” He asks in your ear.

You nod, staring into his eye which reminds you of a vast, lush forest. It softens, flickering down to your lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

Hearing such a sweet promise coming from the rugged pirate invokes something with you that feels like butterflies. You smile and softly peck his lips. “I’ll hold you to it, swordsman,” you whisper against his lips.

Zoro smiles and gives you another chaste kiss before moving between your bodies to rub your clit. Once you begin to moan is when he slowly slides his cock against your sodden wet slit…and then the tip slips in. You both gasp at the contact, sharing pants and heated breaths. You begin to roll your hips against his, slowly taking him inch by inch inside of you.

“That’s it, mama,” he coos. “Nice an’ slow…nice a-and…fuck!” He squeezes his eyes shut, his pretty face screwed up at the pleasure your silky, spongy, wet walls bring him.

You’re feeling it too—his girthy cock makes him a lot thicker which causes your walls to stretch around him. It becomes easier the more he moves, wetness secreting from the both of you to act as lube.

“Look down, baby,” he whispers. Look at that pussy takin’ me.” You do and you see what has him so pent up: the way his thick cock plunges in and out of your slit is so lewd yet so sexy. The first cock you’ve taken in a year!

“Wow,” you say in astonishment. Sanji watches too, unconsciously rutting his cock against your backside.

“Keep going,” you plea, gripping the swordsman’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Zoro. Please.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he grabs your hips and proceeds to fuck you, practically bouncing you up and down his cock, invoking broken moans and gasps from your pretty lips.

Zoro watches your face change expressions, his lips sexily pressed together at the immense pleasure he feels whenever your tight, wet hole throbs and squeezes around him. He quickly loses control, letting go for you. “Oh, God,” he moans. “Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good!”

He does too. The pleasure is blinding, wiping your mind blank. Almost enough to forget about the love chef. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sanji chuckles. “But you’ve got another cock to take care of, darling…after I prep you a bit back here.”

He presses his index finger to your lips, coaxing you to suck on it. You hungrily do so, stimulated by Zoro’s cock as he slowly fucks you, pistoning himself into you.

You then feel Sanji’s finger gently pry your cheeks apart and probe your asshole. You gasp into Zoro’s mouth as you feel the French man’s digit lightly trace your asshole, keeping his touch gentle and soft. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Does it feel good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you exhale, struggling to even speak from the pleasure. Though it’s a foreign feeling, it makes the pleasure of Zoro’s thrusts feel even better.

Then, slowly, Sanji sinks his finger into your asshole, emitting a moan from you. “That okay?” he asks. “Not too much?”

“N-No!” you whimper. “Fuck, it feels so good!” Your body turns into mesh, your head lulling onto Zoro’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. It’s all too much to take.

Zoro tightens his grip on you, still pistoning into you. “Such a big girl takin’ us both like this.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Jesus Christ, Sanji, are you done yet?”

He glares at the blonde who has yet to slip his dick inside of you yet. “Hold on!” He barks. “I need to make sure she’ll be okay to take me!” But you know you are. Your asshole is as open and stretched as it’s going to be. Plus, your want is increasing and so is your need. You need, yearn, to be filled.

“Sanji, please,” you moan. “I need you.” You reach your arm back for him, hooking it around his neck to pull him flush against you. He holds your ass and massages it as you push back against him, rubbing his cock between your asscheeks. The act is so slutty and so unlike you, but you can’t help you. You need him too.

The blonde wraps one around his cock and brings it to your asshole, gently pushing his hips toward you. A gasp leaves his hips as soon as that tight muscle squeezes around him. You push back, taking more of him in you while Zoro pauses, letting you get used to both of them.

It’s a weird, strange feeling to be filled at both ends…but it also feels amazing. You can feel them touching every sensitive part of you that makes you see the entire galaxy behind your eyelids.

“Easy now, darling,” Sanji pants. “Take your time. Just meet me halfway.” You continue to do so, pushing back while he pulls forward. You toss your ass back into him, taking him deeper and deeper with every inch, forcing slutty moans and whimpers out of Sanji’s mouth. “Fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, ma chéri, you’re so tight here!”

Zoro smirks at the blonde over your shoulder. “Can’t handle it, Vinsmoke?” He sniggers. “Is that ass too tight?” Even though he’s the main one struggling not to move, his entire body trembling against you.

Sanji scowls at him. “Don’t be so vulgar,” he growls, but you can feel him throb inside of you. “Just shut up and fuck her.”

Shockingly, Zoro listens and the two begin to slowly move at the same time, falling into a rhythm that has you moaning and calling to God, your sounds bouncing off of the cave walls.

They both push in and pull back at the same time, each of them filling your holes which pushes you toward your second orgasm with every push and pull. Zoro presses his lips against your ear, his hips slamming into yours. “Thatta girl,” he praises. “Take those fuckin’ cocks. Such a good little slut, y’know that?”

You wordlessly whine at his degrading words, shuddering helplessly between them. The swordsman grips you to him, rubbing his pelvis up against yours. “Come the fuck here,” he growls. “You hear me talkin’ to you?”

“Y-Yes!” You whine. “I-I’m sorry! Fuck, Zoro, yes, right there!” Your rosebud sings with pleasure as Zoro continues to rub against it, your entire body coming to life from what you’re feeling.

Sanji caresses your face, turning you to face him. “You have the most beautiful voice, ma chéri,” he lovingly sighs. “I want to hear more of it. Will you sing more for us?”

As if persuading you, he rolls his hips in a way that makes both of you moan. “Do it,” you plead. “Fuck me.”

They do just that, taking you on the ride of your life, fucking you into oblivion. And their dicks aren’t the only things responsible. Every time their lips touch some part of your body—your neck, shoulders, lips, breasts—, every time their hands grope you, every time you grip or stroke their hard muscles and warm skin, you can feel that knot in your core begin to tighten as much as your wet slit and asshole do around their cocks.

At some point, their thrusts become faster and harder, keeping you squeezed between them and holding you up for better access to do as they want to you. They fuck you like there is no tomorrow, letting out loud moans and grunts that make you wetter, causing their cocks to become even slipprier so it’s easier to slide in and out of you. You can’t believe how good you feel, let alone how long it took for this to happen.

Zoro gives you an open-mouthed kiss, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. “This enough for you, mama?” He whispers. “Are these dicks good enough for you?” Your tongue is too heavy to speak, the pleasure stealing your voice from you. “Aw, the poor baby can’t even speak,” he laughs.

Sanji is just as fucked up though, his hips moving on their own as he grips you to him. “Fuck, I’m close!” he moans. “I can’t wait to fill you up, darling. I’m gonna make you all mine.”

Zoro scowls at him questionably. “Yours?” He huffs. “What about me? You think your load is gonna be bigger than mine?”

The French man raises an eyebrow, smirking challengingly at him. “Let’s find out. We’ll see who can make her cum the quickest and fill her up the most.”

Always up for a challenge, Zoro gives him a smile. “You’re on.” He then locks his arms around you, keeping you dangling off of the floor. “Hold on tight to me, mama. This ride is gonna get bumpy.”

You tighten your arms around him, anchoring yourself to him while Sanji locks his arms around you. “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” he whispers.

You nod, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You give yourself to them and they give their all to you, pounding your pretty pussy and even prettier asshole until you’re sobbing, fat tears glistening on your lash lines. Your tail fin curls in ecstasy the way your toes would and your hands move to grip your men’s hair, overcome with pleasure.

“O-Oh, fuck!” You sob. “Yes, yes, yes, just like that! I-I’m gonna cum!” You can feel it building with every passing second; with every drop of wetness that dribbles down your inner thighs and coats your slits. “Me too,” Zoro huffs. “You’re just too goddamn tight, baby.”

Sanji only gives you a wordless, slutty moan, unable to speak. But he doesn’t have to. You can feel both of their cocks throbbing and swelling inside of you, their thrusts becoming more urgent and much harder than before.

Tapping into your powers once more, you look both of them in the eye, keeping them close, wanting to be one. “Cum with me,” you demand. “Both of you cum with me now. Fill me up.”

After a few more sloppy, stuttering thrusts, the pirates give you what you want. They cum inside of you up at the same time, filling you up to the brim with two cream pies that knock the air out of you. Their slutty, loud moans and grunts trigger your own orgasm. With a shiver and an earth-shattering scream that nearly shatters the pirates’ eardrums, you finally combust and cum all over Zoro’s cock while your asshole clenches around Sanji’s.

You feel like you’re soaring for just a few short, blissful seconds, flying through the highest clouds and taking the pirates with you. They keep you lifted up and against them as you shudder and writhe in pleasure, riding out the hardest orgasm you’ve had in a year.

It makes you dizzy and your head goes completely blank. It takes every single ounce of energy out of you, so much so that you go limp when it fades. You lean your head against Zoro’s chest, suddenly exhausted.

At some point during your mind-blowing orgasm, you pass out. You don’t remember much about what happened after you had your second nut. But when you awaken, it is dawn and you find yourself still sandwiched between a sleeping, naked Zoro and Sanji. The swordsman has his muscular, scarred back to you while the love chef is pushed against your back, acting as the big spoon.

The morning sun peeks through the cave, turning the soft waves that crash against the shore a beautiful hue of gold. The sunlight illuminates off of your naked bodies, acting as a physical representation for afterglow: your arms, your faces, your legs…

Legs?

To your utter shock and joy, you look down to see that you no longer have a fish tail but your legs. Your beautiful, gorgeous, human legs. You sit up between the pirates and wiggle your toes just to see if you can do it. Your little piggies listen to your order, your toe bones wiggling about.

“Oh, my God!” You shout, unable to keep your happiness at bay.

Your shout alarms the pirates and they quickly awaken. Zoro immediately grabs a sword while Sanji panickingly looks around for danger, his blonde hair a sex-ruined mess. “What, what?!” He gasps. “What is it?!”

You take a moment to gather your words as tears begin to push past the dam of your eyes. “My legs!” You sob. You show the duo your legs, happily moving them around. “You broke the curse! It worked!”

Zoro gapes down at your legs, even gently stroking your skin from your thigh to your knee. Sanji breaks out into an astonished smile, his gray blue eyes wide with wonder. “My God,” he whispers. “It was real.” You nod, unable to keep yourself from sobbing with joy. You can’t believe it worked!

The swordsman looks pleased that everything worked out for you. “I guess our work here is done,” he says. “We should be leaving now.” To your confusion and shock, the two leave you sitting there and begin to get dressed. “Wait, you’re leaving?” You ask. “Right now?”

Zoro stares at you as if it should be obvious while he puts on his pants. “Well, yeah,” he says. “I mean, we gave you what you wanted, right? We’re not needed anymore.” He shrugs on his boots with the quickness, still having not put on his shirt. “But it was…really nice.” He clears his throat, awkwardly looking away from your naked form.

Sanji is quicker putting on his clothes, staring at you somberly. “Better than nice, ma chéri,” he sighs. “You were amazing. But our time here has come to pass. Our captain will be looking for us, so we should—“

“Don’t go!” you blurt, grabbing Sanji’s hand. The love chef looks taken aback at this. Zoro is too, looking at you with a startled expression. You’re just as taken aback at yourself and the sudden desperation you feel watching them go. Why do you feel this way? After all, you did tell them you could depart after you got your legs back.

And while you are happy to have your beautiful, human limbs back, you’re not happy to see the pirates go. They made you feel safer than you’ve felt your whole life. They accepted you, helped you at your darkest hour, fucked you stupid, and came inside of you without even knowing you. All to help you! How can you give them up?

You flush embarrassingly and release Sanji’s hand, instead using your arms to hug yourself, covering your naked breasts. “I-I mean…you don’t have to leave so soon. I really enjoyed your company, regardless of the sex.” You look at each other from under your lashes, bashful but honest. “I wouldn’t mind y’all stickin’ around for a bit.”

Zoro and Sanji stare at you in shock, obviously not expecting this proposal from you. Then their gazes soften, filling you with butterflies that nervously flap and flutter about. Before any one of them can respond, a sheer, loud scream coming from deep within the cave stops you:

“Zoro!” Luffy calls. “Sanji, are you in here?!”

Immediately, you crawl behind a rock, frightened. “We’re coming!” Sanji shouts. “Luffy, don’t move!” You hear other voices too, unfamiliar and scary to you. You haven’t been around other help in a year.

Zoro walks toward you and kneels with you behind the rock, his eye sparkling with mischief and gentleness. “I wouldn’t mind that either if you don’t mind our crew.”

He hands you over his shirt, holding it out for you. “But I will warn you: they’re annoying and unhinged, but you won’t find better people than them.” He gives you a crooked smile that makes you trust his words.

“You want me to join your crew?” You ask in disbelief. The swordsman passively shrugs, ever the emotionally constipated one. “If you want,” he bashfully asks. “I think Luffy will like you. He likes everybody…mostly.”

Sanji chuckles, kneeling beside you. “What do you say, darling?” He asks, a sparkle in his eyes. “You up for some more adventure?”

You take a moment to stare into the men’s eyes, seeing nothing but a generous nature that soothes your fears and leaves you feeling giddy, happy, and safe.

“Hell yes,” you giggle. You take Zoro’s shirt and put it on, feeling like you’re wearing a dress with how big it is on you. You then wrap your arms around both men’s necks and bring them in for a soft, thankful kiss. “Lead the way, boys,” you purr.

Joyfully, Zoro scoops you up into his arms while Sanji fusses about not being able to hold you, much to your humor, as you’re carried away to meet your new crew. Suddenly, the fog that the witch’s curse created is gone, leaving your present and your future looking brighter than ever.

And all because of that stupid ass song.

THE END.

[carooosa]

Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness

Part 1: Exposure (rewrite)

Full series here

Word count: 1.5k Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ascended Astarion x AFAB Resist Durge/Reader Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, ear play, violence against an NPC AO3 link: Exposure

Summary: Astarion can exert his control/power as he maintains composure while fucking you, and while he may not be as strict with his council when doing so, the harshness behind his actions is still there. But when you torture him by making him moan in front of everyone who is beneath him? Not only will it show him weak, but it’ll show his weakness.

It’s another boring day as a consort while you sit on your lover’s bare lap, slowly rolling your hips into him. Ever since the ascension, Astarion has refused to let you out of his sight for too long, always wanting to have some part of him touching you. It upset you, at first, having to sit in on all of the dreadful conferences and dull discussions. But as always, Astarion made sure that it was worth your time.

He’s droning on about some inaccuracies in recent reports he’s received and his fingers dig into your hips as the proprietor of the counting-house stumbles out an excuse. You can’t help but giggle when you picture the proprietor trembling as he tries to talk his way out of this mess. You remember his name being quite the joke as well, something like Sparkleboard or Glimmerbrook.

“Rakath Glitterbeard,” Astarion barks at the dwarf before berating him for his inadequacies. He shoots you a mischievous glance, confirming that he too is bored with this meeting, so much so that his mind had wandered into your own.

Of course the poor sod’s name was something ridiculous. If he was going to have a name as awful as that, he should just change it to Goldcoin or something similar. At least then it’d have relevance to his job.

Astarion pinches your hips in an attempt to stifle any laughter that may come out, and you yelp in surprise. You look at your lover and notice the slightest crinkle in the corner of his eyes. The ramblings from Rakath stop, and Astarion’s head snaps towards him. “Have you run out with excuses already, Glitterbeard? Or have you simply come to your senses and decide to own up to your shortcomings?” Astarion says with a growl.

You turn your head as well, excited to see what’s about to unfold. The dwarf readjusts his collar before clearing his throat, and the idiot decides to speak up against your Lord.

With the arrogance of a little kid, he says, “No, Lord Astarion, I just noticed that you seem to be preoccupied and thought I would wait until you regain focus.”

Astarion scoffs and you feel him grab onto your ass with one hand as he stands up and kicks back the chair he was sitting on. With his other hand, he pushes off all the paperwork that lay strewn about the desk. He sets you on the edge of the table before pushing you down so that your back is against the hardwood. He stares directly at that insufferable banker as he begins to thrust into you – hard.

“What was that about losing focus?” Astarion says with a crazed look in his eyes.

Rakath’s face turns bright red as he tries to stammer out a response, but it’s no use, as Astarion has already made up his mind.

“Silence. Pick up those documents and put them back on the table – in their correct order. After that, you will redo all of this week’s reports, as well as the last 4 month’s as well.” Astarion is interrupted by a noise of disapproval, his frustration reaching its highest point today. “I said silence. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how that tongue of yours works, shall I cut it out and show you?”

Rakath drops to the floor and begins frantically gathering the papers, all the while Astarion continues to slam into you with reckless abandon as he addresses the rest of the meeting attendees. 

“Do I need to remind everyone that you’re in the presence of the Vampire Ascendant? I am more powerful than you could possibly comprehend, yet you wager your lowly lives just to make some ridiculous point. I could replace you with the snap of my fingers and no one would even care. I keep you around because I couldn’t be damned to get rid of you – however, give me enough of a reason and I’ll put the dungeon to use.”

You weren’t sure exactly how or when it started, but whenever Astarion would get annoyed or pissed off during a meeting he would yank you closer and begin to fuck you, right there, in front of everyone. Somehow he was able to maintain composure as he catered to your needy whines, asserting his dominance over the room while he dominated you. He always took care of you, and one day, you got the brilliant idea to care for him in return.

You’re once again sat on your lover’s lap with his cock buried deep inside you. His nose is deep in a document, a contract with an architect from Neverwinter, and his shoulders are tensed. You delicately reach your hands behind his shoulders to start massaging the knots. He doesn’t acknowledge you save for a quick twitch in his ears, so you push harder, hoping to alleviate some of the stress the Vampire Lord must feel. Moving up to his neck, you meticulously knead every knot you find, humming a soft melody as each point of tension slowly comes undone. When you finish giving him a massage, one of your hands slightly brushes against his ear, causing a shutter to ripple through Astarion.

You quickly look at his face and notice his lips part, a silent moan leaving them. Interesting, you think to yourself, and you slowly reach out to stroke his ear.

You watch as Astarion gasps, eyes fluttering closed in contentment, the contract falling from his hands. He desperately tries to regain control by focusing on his breath. You caress the helix of his ear and his breathing hitches before a pleased sigh escapes his mouth and he leans into your touch. His hands move to your back to stabilize you as he begins to roll his hips, ever so slightly fucking you.

He looks so beautiful like this, you think to yourself. Astarion’s eyes are hooded when he opens them again, and if your heart was still beating, you’re positive it would’ve skipped a beat.

You can tell from his posture that he’s about to move your hand away, and the mind-link connection you share confirms that. The Vampire Ascendant has an image to upkeep, and he can’t show any vulnerability outside of the bed chambers. He starts to shift in his seat when suddenly, you take his ear lobe in your mouth. He mindlessly bucks his hips forward and grasps the armrests of his chair, splintering the wood. You nibble on the lobe, pressing and flicking your tongue against the soft skin.

He can vaguely see in his peripherals the guests from Neverwinter glance at each other and shift in their seats. One of them clears their throat and Astarion tries again to regain his poise but all he can think about is your lips on his ear. You roll your hips and gingerly reach out to his other ear, pinching and rubbing the tip. A quiet moan starts in the back of Astarion’s throat as you coo at him, telling him that he’s such a good lord, so strong, incredibly smart, your love. All the meeting attendants can do is watch as the Vampire Ascendant comes undone beneath your touch.

Astarion is panting as you whisper sweet nothings in between giving attention to his ears. You bite down on the flesh in your mouth – harsh enough to draw blood – and moan from the sweet ichor that flows into your body. The nobility that would usually cower at the mention of the vampire lord’s name now sit watching, unable to do anything in fear of retaliation. One of the younger nobles, the son of the architect, begins to slowly stroke his fingers against his strained trousers.

Within seconds, Astarion barks an order.

“Stop.”

You pause, concerned that you may have gone too far. Before you can ask if you did something wrong, you’re sat alone on the chair while Astarion is on his feet and holding the young man by his throat. He raises the boy above his head and dangles him above the table, his claws piercing into his flesh. The architect starts to get out of his seat but a nearby guest stops him.

“You fucking degenerate. How dare you please yourself while looking at my consort,” Astarion bellows.

The boy is unable to respond as blood fills his throat, causing him to suffocate. Astarion slowly closes his grip around his neck, watching as the architect’s son struggles to pull his nails out. The boy stops thrashing, the life drained from his eyes as his body goes limp.

Astarion continues to hold the corpse in the air as he addresses his room. “Leave. Now. And if so much as a word of today’s events is whispered outside of this room,” he pauses, throwing the body onto the table where the group congregates, “I will personally hunt each and every one of you.”

A few days later, a rumor silently spreads across Baldur’s Gate. Astarion, the unforgiving and merciless Vampire Ascendant, has a weakness. While many laugh and make jokes about how the powerful tyrant gets turned on with the touch of his ears, a resistance group takes note of his true weakness, and their key to his demise: you.

Part 2 here Full series here

[vypridae]

velvette after finding out that during one of valentinos last rampages, he had ripped up one of the best dresses that took her *hours* to work on and actually gets super mad at valentino so vox, in order to protect his boyfriend, ties her up and puts her in timeout, takes a photo and texts carmilla like "come get yo girl" because she will not calm down. anyway once velvette comes back shes got a few kisses here and there and somehow carmilla managed to break her enough to actually apologize to val. (vox recorded it and uses it to embarass vel)

OKAY LOWKEY I LOVE THIS?? AJDKFAHDFG??? velvette actually loses her shit because she fucking loved the dress she made and her notes were torn up with the dress so she feels like she wont ever be able to recreate it as perfectly as she had it before

carmilla probably shows up to the vee tower (reluctantly; she still doesnt like val or vox but she'll tolerate them for vel's sake), lifts velvette (with zero issues), goes "i'll be back with a calm velvette in a few hours" to vox and leaves

velvette decides, after apologizing, that as payment shes making val help her redo the dress he tore up (vox thinks this is an awful idea) but then they make the same dress vel made before but even fucking BETTER and val is like "seeee? tearing it up before helped! now it looks even BETTER, babydoll!" and velvette is trying super fucking hard not to dig her claws into his throat because "fuck you fuck you fuck you"

vox has three thoughts on this situation

how the fuck did val have a good idea

how the fuck did carmilla get velvette to actually apologize

how did velvette NOT tear val's wings off at his stupid comments about how the dress is "so much better" now

(vox messages carmilla later begging for how she learned how to soothe velvette . probably even makes deal offers and shit to find out . carmilla refuses to tell him . her secret)

[s0lam33y]

I CARE 4 YOU

[shuririweek, day 1: fluff]

summary: basic sick-fic. Shuri is hella stubborn, that’s abt it.

A/n: Ive had to redo this a good 3 times. Anyway, this was requested on my old acc and I’ve finally finished up, hopefully whoever requested this is still around 😭

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

I love going on missions. More than anything. But this one had to get cut short once I got news of Shuri being sick. I’ve only been gone for 48 hours, I’ve just landed back from a mission only to hear that my beautiful wife is sick. And I thought that shit was a joke because how the fuck does she get sick? She’s got one of the most powerful plants in her system and not only that we’ve got the most advanced technology known to man.

I crack the bedroom door open only to find Shuri turned into a mass of blankets wrapped up in our thick comforter. I drop my duffel bag in front of the door and walk towards her, peeling away the layers of the covers.

I hear her heavy breathing and I see her pretty face in real-time for the first time in 2 days. Her cheeks are hot and sweat dampens her skin.

“Hey, baby…” I whisper doing my best to keep my volume down. She doesn’t respond, her eyes shut close and her body curled into itself. I gather her in my arms and it’s enough for her to blink her pretty eyes open.

The white in her eyes is red and her skin is damn near dripping.

“Have you not had any medicine?” I question, whether she shouldn’t be doing this bad with how much tech we have. But knowing her, she’s so damn stubborn. I should know better than to ask, her throat is probably scratchy.

“I’m fine.” She mumbles trying to turn around but her body is too weak to.

I move her curls out of the way and look at her clothing, my red MIT sweats and a white shirt, the same outfit she was in when I last FaceTimed her right before landing.

She hasn’t left her room at all, I’m assuming while I peel back her shirt to feel how damp it is, I touch the skin along her abdomen and it’s hot to the touch.

I grab her wrist to navigate her kimoyo beads and begin to administer some herbal medicine.

“Griot, give me Shuri’s Stats please,” I order.

“Griot, don’t do that.” She groans, grabbing my wrist.

“I’m sorry, Your Highnesses, whose orders do I follow?” Griot questions and she reacts too slowly for him to catch anything.

“Mine,” I answer clearly.

“The Queen’s temperature is at 101 degrees Fahrenheit, she’s been in and out of sleep for 30 hours, her heart rate is at 69 beats per minute,”

The only thing alarming is her temperature.

“Shuri, I ain't tryna scold you right now, but why didn’t you say nothing?” I ask only for her to groan.

“M’fine, it happens.”

“Walk then,” I tell her and she looks at me like I’m crazy. Then she rubs her eyes and sits up slowly. She’s only sitting up because I’m supporting her back so I let go only for her back to hit the bed.

“Fuck off.” She curses and it makes me laugh harder than I have all week. When I’m done laughing, I help her off the bed and onto the sofa bed that’s across from it.

I change the sheets for her to her favorite dark purple ones and clean up all the stuff she’s left around the room.

“Griot, did the Queen get her shots this year?” I ask, I’m not sick and no one else in the citadel is. I settle next to her and she’s not asleep, just blinking slow as fuck.

“Yes, however, it had left her system once she took the herb,”

She had a challenge to the throne a week ago by someone from the river tribe, and she was fine at first. Maybe that entire month of training drained her body a lot.

“Is there any other reason why she could be so sick?”

“The Queen hasn’t had a sufficient amount of water in a couple of days, Her body is also trying to handle the effects of the herb being back in her body,” Griot says as I place her head onto my thighs and watch her lie down. Her lips are parted just a little and her breathing is so shallow.

“I’m fine like I’m okay,” She insists.

“Dude, literally shut up,” I say and it earns me a dopey smile.

She’s shaking a little and her clothes are nearly drenched I feel her forehead with the back of my hand. She’s nowhere near burning up. Her skin feels normal just damp. What the fuck is goin on?

I’m confused, this AI ain’t helping me, I hate this.

I get up slowly so I don’t move too fast. I’ve spent days bandaging her up as she has for me but this is sickness, not wounds. There’s not a single scientific explanation I can think of that explains this.

“Griot, what should I do?”

“Keep her awake, A very hot shower should help, a couple of herbs can be found in the garden that should be able to ease her pain, I’ll make a list for you and you may demand it once ready.”

Sounds like a plan.

….

“Shuri, get in the shower,” I order only for her to glare at me.

“No, you don’t see how hot it is? Are you mad?” She asks, sniffling while steam fills up the bathroom.

“You’ve fought wars, Shuri, get in the shower, ‘it’ll help I swear,” I tell her. She’s always been so picky about the temperature in the shower which is one of the reasons why we can’t ever shower together. She loves her a cold shower and I can’t stand it. I wouldn’t take a cold shower if you paid me. She says they help her get ready for the day but I would never.

“You already naked man, just get in the water,” I mutter, she’s only in a towel and she’s already undressed. I need her to just get in.

“A’ight listen, man, If you don’t get in the damn shower-“

“Then what?” She challenges, letting out a little cough while she’s at it. I’ve lifted her before, that’s only happened recently. I wasn’t able to do that when I first met her. But I’ll do it again if I have to.

“Shuri, please, it’s not that bad.” She steps closer and puts her hand out to feel the water.

“It’s too hot.”

“I’ll get in with you.” I offer.

“I guess it’s not so bad then.”

…

“Shuri, open your mouth,” I tell her, calmly as I pour the syrup into a cup. She looks at me in disgust and shakes her head like a kid. It’s medicinal syrup, made here that I take when I’m sick and I feel better by the morning.

But unlike Shuri, I ain’t this fucking stubborn.

She turns over in bed till she’s lying on her back. After a couple of seconds, her mouth opens slightly for her to breathe.

“Fine.” She groans before taking it all in one sip. Her lips curl in disgust before she lifts the comfort over her body and I can hear her breathing as she huffs. She turns so her back faces me.

“You’re acting like a kid.” I chuckle when she coughs.

“You’re the height of one.”

“You sure you sick? ‘Cause you got a lot of slick-ass comments.” She doesn’t say anything and I realize it’s because she’s finally asleep.

We end up falling asleep soon after and she wakes up, refreshed, earlier than I do. Like she was never sick. I have to get back to my mission but I wake up feeling dizzy, my head is pounding.

I feel her hand on my forehead, gently caressing my baby hairs while I do my best to sit up.

“Tell them you can’t make it to the mission.” She murmurs.

[unyandere]

Yandere villain x snarky reader who doesn’t mind dying- pt.2

Tw: some sass, insults, swearing, threats, possible ur mom jokes, bad English

For all the people who voted the other options during the poll: everything on the poll will be written in the near or not so near future, probably

Part 1

After three days of yelling “LALALALALALALA” to shut up the villain your throat hurts like hell and you can’t talk.

“Well, sweetheart, not so noisy now, are we?” He asks mockingly after you gradually stop shouting at him.

You give him a middle finger.

“What do you mean by that? Why don’t you tell me loud and clear what you mean, hun~?” He asks sarcastically feigning an innocent expression.

Saying that you want to kick him in the face is an understatement, if only you weren’t handcuffed you would have already killed him.

“My oh my, sweety, what’s with that grumpy face? Turn that expression upside down unless you want something to happen” he orders with an happy voice.

You just raise your eyebrows at the threat and prepare yourself to kick him if he gets closer.

“Wooow, I’m So sCaRed! WhAt wIlL I dO If sHe kIcKs mEee?” He says mockingly “now, honey, turn that grumpiness into happiness unless you want to experience some baaad 10 minutes”

He gets closer than he was before, but he’s still out of reach for your legs when he takes something from one of his pockets, you can’t see what he’s holding, tough.

“Now, babe, this is your last warning: stay grumpy and your gonna regret it” he says and activates the thing he had in his hand.

You can see some fire come out of whatever-it-was-he-was-holding-in-his-hand and pale a bit, your head is spinning while trying to come up with the best thing to do: changing your expression means losing to him, which means that he will use this method every time he wants something from you, but not complying with his request will get you hurt and it’s such a small thing you need to do, wouldn’t it be a shame to ruin your body just to win against him? But, if you do win against him during this quarrel he might not bother you again, since he’ll never convince you to do anything!

So… yeah you mess with him and get even grumpier, while giving him a ✨ triple middle finger ✨ (there are tutorials on how to do that on Youtube) .

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be? Well, hun, you brought it upon yourself” he says, shrugging and holds the thing he has in his hand, you can now see that it’s a pretty big lighter.

He gets closer and closer, until he’s just centimetres far from your legs reach.

He takes the lighter and throws it on you.

You do your best to try not to show how scared you are, but it’s a pretty difficult task when you and your clothes are fucking burning

You shake and get the lighter off yourself, but your clothes are still burning and you don’t have anything to stop the fire, I mean, you do try to spit on the clothes, but it doesn’t seem to be working at all.

So… You just give up at the fact that you’ll die because of your clothes on fire… there are worse deaths, that’s for sure. You think of smiling, but don’t, you don’t want to give him this satisfaction.

You had already accepted your fate when the Villain just dumps some smelly water over you.

“What, sweetheart, you thought I’d just let you die?” He asks smiling at you like nothing happened.

You blink at him, trying to understand what just happened, and decide to give the finger to him, just to be sure you “voice” your thoughts.

“Wooow, how original!” He answers sarcastically in return.

So you decide to tell him “I fucked ur mom last night” with the ASL (American Sign Language) that you learnt as a kid to talk with a friend of yours.

The Villain just looks at you with a puzzled expression and then takes out his (really old) IPhone 4 and starts tapping something on it.

He then looks at you.

“Can you please redo the signs you did before, hun?” He asks with the phone in his hand.

You give him a classical, but still effective, middle finger.

“…Fuck you too, hun… Fuck you too…” he says, just giving up on translating what you signed.

You decide that from now on you’ll use the ASL more, just to piss him off.

You are sure that when you’ll be able to escape from here the first person you’ll be visiting will be your deaf friend and you’ll thank them from the bottom of your heart.

But to do that, you’ll have to think of a plan to escape or to get the hero to come here to rescue you.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 2

Thanks for reading! I figure if I can get this out of my head I can get on with the other stuff.... or I'll just be compelled to write more Roy. Who knows?!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Shrieks and giggles and thundering footsteps sounded throughout Sara's house. You sat at either end of the sofa with a large glass of wine and rolled your eyes. 

"I can't decide if someone's going to get hurt or…"

"Nah, they're fine," sudden silence, Sara looked up to the ceiling, "I think…" The giggles returned and she relaxed. "Andy didn't fancy helping out yesterday afternoon then?"

"He had plans apparently." You sigh. "I don't get how he can be this super organised dad for years and then decide he's not that person anymore."

"He's punishing you. For having a better job, for the long hours and the commuting. Typical 'this is what I've been doing for ages, you should be able to do it too?' bullshit. Phebs dad did the same till he buggered off completely."

"He knew my job was tricky, it's never been flexible - that's not new information. Now I'm trying to force flexibility and redo how I work."

"You'll find a balance. It'll take time."

"I just wanted to show Lexie that mum's can have great jobs. That I can do both. I totally fell for the you can have it all bullshit. You can have it all as long as you sacrifice yourself to do it." She patted your knee in comfort. 

"You can have it all. Just never expect to eat a hot meal, shower in peace, or have sex ever again."

"I haven't had any of those things in years anyway!" You laugh. 

"You have half a week alone now - you've never had that before! Time to introduce eating dinner and having sex!"

"It's the weirdest thing. The house is so quiet." A thud comes from upstairs. 

"I know, it's bizarre. Even if Phoebe's not here, I still do everything the same."

"Are we saddos?"

"Definitely. I guess that rules out the sex."

"Hmmm. I guess so!" You'd ordered pizzas for dinner and put on a Disney film for the girls. Sara could do French plaits, but you couldn't, so she braided hair while you painted nails. The girls loved every second. The following morning, Sara, with a rare full weekend off, was taking Phoebe to the Richmond game. She'd text Roy the night before and asked for two extra tickets for you and Lexie. While she was wrangling the girls to the breakfast table, the front door knocked, so you went to answer it. Roy had his back to you, but turned at the sound of the door opening. You were suddenly very conscious of your matching sleep shorts and t-shirt - he looked great in dark jeans and a black henley. He looked from your bare feet, up your legs. Thank god you'd put a bra on. 

"Mornin'" he said gruffly, handing her two tickets, "these are for Sara. Yours will be at the ticket office."

"Oh, thank you. Do you want some money for the tickets?" You turn to find your bag on the coat hooks. 

"Don't be fucking daft, course I don't. You might want to put some more clothes on though, it's cold." He was heading back down the garden path before he'd finished speaking. 

"Duh. I don't exactly go out in public like this." You called.

"Shame." You heard as he rounded the corner to his car. 

"Prick." You had no idea why Phoebe was so obsessed with this rude uncle who took the piss out of everyone. 

~~~~~~~

By the time you'd all gotten dressed and wrapped up, it was nearly time for the match. You walked round to Nelson Road, stopping at the ticket office to collect the tickets he'd left in your name. The noise in the stadium was unreal. It was mid March and the team didn't have long left till the end of the season, they were doing well and everyone had high hopes. Your seats were in the designated family area just behind the dugout. High above you was the owners box and directly in front of you were the Richmond team and coaching staff. Phoebe and Lexie were already joining in the chants and cheers around them. The combination of two 9 year old girls made them significantly louder than normal, Roy turned to seek them out and gave the girls a little wave, catching your eye as he did so.

"Does it remind you of loving boy bands when we were girls?" Sara asked as the stadium began it's 'Jamie Tartt doo doo doo doo' song. 

"Oh yeah, your brother is a real Robbie Williams!" You laugh. The team wins and you have to practically tear the girls apart when it's time to leave. "You'll see each other tomorrow." You reason, but it's not enough. "Why don't we pick Phoebe up in the morning and I'll take you both together?" That suggestion elicits some cheers. 

"Are you sure? I'm on early so I'll be leaving at 6am but Roy will be there. He comes straight from training Jamie at some stupid hour of the morning."

"That's fine, collect her from yours - about 7.30?"

"Yeah perfect, I'll let Roy know you'll be there." 

"Great, hear that girls? We'll get Phoebe and I'll take you both to school." The girls finally seem appeased and you manage to separate them. The rest of the afternoon you spend trying to straighten up the house, do Lexie's homework and cooking. You make sense of the coming week, Lexie gets collected by her dad on Wednesday afternoon so you know that the back half of the week can afford to be crazier and busier. Bathtime and bedtime are quick to arrive and once Lexie's settled, you finally get to sit on the sofa in silence. Sara has text to thank you for a lovely couple of days, and she's sent you Roy's number should you ever need it. Lexie is so excited to see Phoebe the next day that it takes a lot less arguing, bribery and shouting to get ready for school. You find a little extra time to put some effort in yourself with a black shift dress, heels and your hair loose around your shoulders.

"Mum, your hair looks so cute!" Lexie says happily. 

"Thanks bun. Let me brush your hair, see this is what happens when we both have time to get ready properly! No shouting and we both look smart." Lexie rolled her eyes, 

"Yeah yeah. Let's go get Phebs!"

"We'll be too early if we go now, love."

"Pleeeeease?" You check your watch, way too early but hopefully Roy won't be too much of a dick about it. It's a tube day today so you walk the short journey to Sara's. It's Phoebe who flings open the door and the two girls are inseparable once more. 

"You're really early, better come in." Roy calls from the kitchen. 

"We're walking to school so not that early." You clarify. He looks at your shoes, skeptical. 

"Walking to school then to the tube? You must be mad. I'm going past the school, I'll drive and drop you off at the station after." 

"You don't need to do that."

"I know, but I'm only going to end up driving past you in about 20 minutes anyway." He arches an eyebrow, daring you to argue. He pours another cup of coffee and hands it to you. "Besides, now you've got time to for a coffee before your day starts." You take the cup,

"Thank you." The girls come back to the kitchen, angling for extra breakfast so Roy opens a cupboard and hands them little chocolate croissants.

"Lexie's mum, you look lovely and your hair is beautiful today."

"Thanks Phoebe, that's very kind of you." You see her elbow Roy, 

"Doesn't she look lovely uncle Roy."

"Yeah, you look lovely."

"Thank you. Again." You blush, hiding your laugh behind your cup. 

"Got everything girls? We're goin' in a minute." You both finish your coffee while the girls get their bags and coats. Roy's 4x4 feels huge, he holds the door open for you at the same time as he does the same for Phoebe, then goes around to let Lexie in. 

"If this car wasn't so big, maybe it wouldn't be so easy to block you in?" You tease as he starts the car. He looks at you and for the briefest second you think he's angry, then he laughs and it's a low, deep chuckle which lights up his face and makes you feel warm in your belly. You jump out to take the girls into school while he turns the car around and then all too soon, you're outside the station. 

"Did you need me to get Lexie this afternoon?" He asks. It's a stark contrast to everytime you've had this conversation with Andy. Roy asks with ease and without judgement. "I'm getting Phoebe anyway?"

"I should be done in time, but thanks. If I get there first, I can get Phebs?"

"Nah it's OK, her mum should be home in time for bedtime tonight so I won't have her long anyway." You open the door to get out of the car but his warm hand on your elbow stops you, "Let me know if you're running late though, yeah? I don't mind. Sara gave you my number?" You nod, dumbly, "OK. Just call me or something."

"OK. See you… soon."

"Yeah, see you soon." You swear you're still blushing even once you're out of eyeshot and down on the platform. 

~~~~~~

The kids manage to survive by seeing each other at school, and the lighter Monday and Tuesday you'd planned mean for a smoother week. You don't need to call and beg Andy for help and you don't have to lean on Sara or Roy either. It's not until Wednesday morning that you cross paths again. You're waving goodbye to Lexie at the door when she spots Phoebe across the carpark with Roy. Since Lexie refuses to go in until Phoebe is there, you decide to wait for them. The girls hug and race inside for breakfast club. 

"Mornin', you alright?"

"Yeah, not bad. You?"

"Yeah good. Need a lift to the station?"

"That would be great - if you're sure?"

"Wouldn't have offered otherwise. Busy day?"

"Yep, a long one today. Lexie's dad is picking her up so I've got a late meeting." He holds the door open for you.

"What is it you do?"

"Deputy Director of Communications for a charity."

"Nice. Sounds… boring?"

"Hmm. They're not a great company to work for to be honest. They don't really have any people skills so they couldn't give a shit when you need something from them. It's all take take take." He shrugged,

"So leave?'

"Said the millionaire ex footballer with a great job as a coach. I have bills to pay - it's not that simple. Plus anything else at the same level is longer hours and generally more demanding than I can do at the moment."

"Fair enough. This is your stop." He pulls up at the station.

"Thanks. Probably won't see you till next week now, Lexie's with her dad till Saturday so no emergency pick ups needed. I can avoid the school completely."

"Lucky you. Let me know if anything changes and you need me to get the little un." You're suddenly overcome with gratitude for the support he and Sara have given in such a short amount of time. As if sensing how overwhelmed you are, he nudges your shoulder, "Don't be fucking weird about it. Off to work you go."

"Fuck off. I think you're nicer than you let on." You narrow your eyes at him. 

"Yeah well don't get fucking telling everyone. I don't do favours for the whole of the fucking town."

"Just the mums of Phoebe's friends."

"Just one of them."

"Ahh, it's survival of the fittest at the school gates and that's definitely not me."

"You're doing a great job. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Now, fuck off before you're late." You can see a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

"Bye Roy!" You hop out of the car and turn back with a quick smile. 

~~~~~~~~

The second half of the week is as hectic as you expect it to be. You call Lexie each evening through yawns, promising her a fun weekend of baking. When Andy drops her off on Saturday morning, he invites himself into the kitchen despite you trying to avoid him. 

"Did you take her to the football last week?" He asks. 

"Yeah, her little bestie Phoebe got us tickets. Her uncle is one of the Richmond coaches."

"Not that miserable twat who picks her up from school? Roy Kent?"

"Yeah him. Phoebe adores him," you don't hesitate before adding, "I think Lex has taken a shine to him as well. And he's not a twat." 

"He had a go at me yesterday in the playground. I ain't having her go to a Richmond match, she should be West Ham."

"You can't force her to support anyone. She doesn't even have to like football. She likes Phoebe, she's a good friend and her mum is just as nice." You reply with a shrug. "Why did he have a go at you? Did you park on the hatches?"

"No I bloody didn't. I said Lex couldn't sleepover and he told me she could if she wanted to."

"Course she can if she wants to. Look, if you don't want her to spend time with her friends when she's with you, then fine. But when she's with me, we work out our plans together and we do what makes her happy." He shook his head and slammed the front door. It was barely 9am and you were done with his bullshit. You pull out your phone and text Sara, Going to the park if you want to come. Coffee on me x Then you call Lexie.

"Come on babe, let's go to the park and then we'll do some baking later." You don't get a reply from Sara so you head out anyway. Lexie is somewhere near the top of the big climbing frame when Phoebe barrels into you for a quick hug, and then goes off to join her best friend. "Hey Phebs!" You don't really want to turn away from the climbing frame but you do a quick scout around to see how far away Sara is. But it's not Sara on her way over, it's Roy with Phoebe's backpack on one shoulder and two coffees in his hands. He hands you one with a small smirk. 

"Park this early?"

"Thanks, rough morning. I heard you and Andy had a delightful conversation at school yesterday?"

"Dickhead said Lex couldn't have a sleepover with Phebs when it's his time with her."

"I know. I told him she could do whatever the fuck made her happy when she's with me."

"That's what I said," He growled. "Did he tell you he made some sly dig about it being so you can go off and do whatever or whoever you want?" You spin in anger to face him, his eyes stayed on the top of the climbing frame. 

"What?! No, he didn't dare say that to me. Ugh, he knows full well that single mums aren't exactly beating prospective new partners off with a stick. Just cos he's already met someone." You wipe your hand across your cheeks, shaking your head. Roy doesn't say anything. He reaches into Phoebe's bag, pulls out a paper bag and passes it to you. A chocolate star biscuit sits inside. 

"It's not a gold star, but whatever. You're a million times better than he is. More than that. You don't need validation from him and you don't need to compare yourself to him." He holds your gaze, his dark eyes are the darkest you've ever seen. He glances at your lips so briefly you think you imagined it. You smile sadly.

"Thank you. Chocolate's better anyway."

"Course it fucking is." He smiles.

[adidastain]

motion and momentum

college matt stone x fem reader (y/n)

warnings: smut (vaginal penetration, fingering, handjobs), body worship (ish?)

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.), small disclaimer: the physics in this are based off of what i remember (i did not pay attention in that class at all) so bear with me i had to do some extra research

word count: 6921

—

I could have finished these notes nine hours ago. I could have finished studying for this stupid test (which I was going to redo) nine hours ago. But I wasn’t. All ‘cause I couldn’t keep my eyes off of my tutor the entire time he read from the textbook. 

It was nearing December, so my physics professor kept giving us these little practice tests in order to prepare for the final exam. I guess all the studying that we had to do would help us in the end, but it fucking sucked. Now that the weather was changing, the Sun set earlier and earlier. The large library that Matt and I usually studied in had large glass windows that let in plenty of golden light in the late afternoon nowadays. It was nice. The only problem was that it had become an enormous distraction from the tutoring and had caused me to pay more than enough attention to my tutor himself. 

Now I was stuck in my dorm, damning myself for not paying attention beforehand. The stress of not being prepared for the test was keeping me from falling asleep, though I probably deserved it since it was my fault and my fault alone. It was way past curfew, meaning all major doors to get into the building were locked for the night. It was also storming heavily outside, and there had already been a number of times where the lights flickered on and off. 

There was absolutely nothing I hated more than physics, except thunderstorms. 

I thought about calling Matt and asking him to come over. He was in the same building as me; I remember that from that one time we studied together in his dorm on the weekend. That was yet another situation where I was desperate for his help at an outrageous time, but that was before I started crushing on him. Before I realized it, at least. 

I did want to study; I needed to. But I also didn’t want to be alone. I wasn’t going to tell him that I was scared of the storm and the dark. He didn’t need to know that. So I called him. 

“Hello?” a voice answered, deep and exasperated. 

“Matt? It’s Y/N,” I said softly. 

“I know,” He said. I could hear the grin in his voice. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” I said. I stood up and started pacing around my room in slow steps. I felt nervous for some reason. “Just, um, stuck on some of these equations for motion.”

I heard Matt laugh slightly over the other line. “You’re studying?” he teased. 

“I need your help,” I whined. I started to worry that he was going to turn me down. I’d had a pretty good feeling up until then. 

“I can imagine,” He laughed. I felt my cheeks turn red. 

“It’s not funny, Matt. I feel stupid,” I said. I rubbed my temples, staring at my feet on the floor. 

“Alright, alright. You’re not stupid. Tell me what’s up,” he said, grunting slightly as I assumed he was getting out of bed. 

“Can you come over?” I asked meekly, my voice lowering. I bit my lip and stared into space, waiting anxiously for his answer. 

After a long pause, I heard him sigh and mumble something that the phone didn’t quite pick up. “I guess,” he said. “It’s kinda late.”

“I’m only downstairs,” I smiled, hoping to convince him. My floor was all girls, and the floor above, where his dorm was, was all boys. “I have snacks.”

I heard another soft sigh, before he obliged. “Okay. But if you don’t pay attention, I’m leaving,” He said. The sound of rustling came through the other line, making me assume that he was packing up his stuff. I loved the way his stern tone made me feel sometimes. 

I bit back a grin. “Okay,” I said. “Make sure you bring your textbook.”

The dial tone rang in my ears before I could say “See you,” or anything like that. I felt kinda bad; maybe he was annoyed with me. He had every reason to be. I knew he’d help a few other underclassmen study sometimes too and there was no doubt that I was his most difficult pupil. 

Pretty soon, Matt was at my door in a baggy gray T-shirt and some dark blue basketball shorts. Something about the way the fabric hung off his chest and shoulders was so easy on the eyes. 

He had his bag with him and he set it down on the floor next to where I was sitting. He huffed as he lowered himself onto the shaggy rug, trying not to let himself crash into the ground. Matt’s eyes scanned me up and down, taking a moment to linger on my legs. I had a pair of short shorts on, so the entirety of both my legs were pretty much exposed for his viewing leisure. 

Matt cleared his throat and sighed, pulling his textbook out from his bag. He came in, no “hi,” “hey,” nothing. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” I said, setting my notebook in my lap with my legs crossed. My hair sat on my shoulders, still damp from the shower I took an hour earlier. Thinking about it, this was the first time he’d seen my hair down.

Matt looked at me, smiling slightly. I still worried that he was irritated with me, despite his calm, content manner. He looked tired. His short, curly hair was messy and his eyes looked a little puffy. 

“It’s fine,” He said. “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.” 

His dainty fingers flipped through the textbook to land on a page with a bunch of different equations for calculated different parts of motion like speed, distance, and acceleration. Matt set the textbook down in front of us and scooted a little closer to me, taking a deep breath in before speaking. 

“Are you still having a hard time with the variables?” He asked me, looking into my eyes. He often made eye contact when asking me questions when we studied, but now it felt so much more intense than it usually did. He had a stone cold expression on his face that made me feel small and intimidated. 

“Yeah,” I squeaked. I’m struggling with the whole fucking thing. 

Matt leaned closer, taking my notebook and turning it towards him. Our shoulders brushed together and our faces were closer than ever before. To keep myself from having a heart attack, I moved so that I was leaning back against the side of my bed, staying a good foot or two away from him. 

He took a moment to scan over the work that I already attempted to do based on the practice equations he’d given me earlier in the day. “You have the right idea, you just- Do you have a calculator?” he asked, looking at the drawers behind him. 

I nodded, standing up to reach inside my bag on my bed. His fingers brushed mine as I handed him the chunky silver calculator. I swear to this day, I caught his eyes on me for a split second before I turned back around. I totally didn’t turn my back to him on purpose, definitely not. I definitely didn’t mean to put my ass in his face. 

“Show me how you put it in the calculator. I think that’s where you might be getting confused,” He told me, leaning close to me again. 

“It’s, um…” I mumbled. My hands trembled slightly as I pressed the buttons on the calculator, trying to avoid Matt’s punishing gaze. I felt extremely embarrassed. That is why I hated studying. “Initial velocity times the, um, time.”

“Mhm,” he hummed. I looked up at him, seeing his focused, patient expression as he looked at the calculator, then in my eyes. He smiled slightly, nodding as if to say “Keep going.”

“And then you add the acceleration times time and-”

“You forgot something,” he told me, raising his eyebrows. It felt awfully like he was teasing me somewhat. I had absolutely no fucking idea what he was talking about. 

Matt leaned forward and used the tip of his pinky finger to point to a spot in his textbook that showed the equation. There was a ½ that I was supposed to multiply the acceleration by that I completely forgot about. 

“Oh, yeah,” I laughed, still fucking humiliated. Matt made me feel so stupid. Not on purpose; he never said anything that made me feel stupid unless he was frustrated, which was rare and even then it wasn’t on purpose. It was just the fact that he was majoring in mathematics, so I knew he was pretty damn smart and could probably spend the time he spent on me doing something else. Something more worthwhile. 

I was grateful, obviously. For a number of reasons. Help was better than no help, and to be honest, he was nice to look at. He was pretty handsome in the face and he had a great smile with a little gap between his front teeth, with soft, reddish-brown curls of hair. His eyes were gorgeous; he had those grayish-greenish-blueish eyes that looked more blue on some days and more green than others. He also had muscular arms and dainty, elegant hands that looked strong at the same time. He was completely dorky, but it was quite endearing and kinda adorable sometimes.

I found myself completely distracted from the lecture he was giving me, my eyes lingering on his face and neck as he spoke. I noticed a dark freckle just below his jaw, and another one right behind his ear. 

“You’re not paying attention at all, are you?” Matt asked me, sighing deeply. I am now. 

“I am,” I said. “You’re very captivating.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. He looked down at his lap, rubbing the back of his neck. I thought I could see him blushing slightly. 

I crossed my arms, pulling my knees up towards my chest. I lifted my leg to nudge his arm with my toe. “You’re blushing,” I said, biting my lip. 

“It’s hot in here,” He said, lifting his head up. He didn’t look at me, pulling his textbook back into his lap. 

“I want you to try to do these three problems at the bottom,” he told me, pointing to the bottom of the page. I nodded, taking the textbook from him and setting it next to me, my notebook in my lap. “If you get stuck, let me know.” 

I watched Matt pull his own notebook out of his backpack, beginning to doodle something onto the page while he waited for me to complete the problems. I slowly copied the variables down along with the equations, stalling so that I had a little more time to stare at him. He’d bite his lip or his tongue occasionally while he worked, furrowing his eyebrows when he’d think about something on a deeper level. I peeked over my kneecaps to see what he was working on, seeing just a bunch of words and diagrams all over the page that probably worked for him organizationally. Unfortunately, when I went back to looking at my own notebook (once again, staring at him), his eyes were on me and he looked disappointed. 

“If you’re not gonna study, I’m gonna go back to my dorm,” he warned, smiling to soften his demeanor. “Do you need help with something?”

“Yeah,” I said, scooting closer to him. I perched up right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Matt stared at me, confused, but quickly moved on to seeing what I’d done so far. 

I tilted my head up to look at him, giving him wide eyes with a soft gaze to hopefully show him that I wasn’t being difficult on purpose. I also thought that maybe the doe eyes would convince him to let up a little and take it easy on me. 

He sighed heavily, listening to me explain how I wasn’t sure what exactly to do after plugging the equation into the calculator and whatnot. They were two-step problems, so the variables moved around. Maybe I really was an idiot. Explaining the trouble I was having really just made me sound dumber and dumber. 

Matt didn’t look at me once while I spoke to him. He swallowed harshly a number of times, keeping his eyes fixed on my paper as he listened. Then he started explaining the steps, looking at me once in a while, while I didn’t look down at the paper a single time. 

He looked at me again, keeping his eyes locked with mine this time. I felt my stomach flutter as he bored holes into me. Matt sighed heavily through his nose, glancing down at my lips before turning his head away and rolling his eyes. 

“I guess I should go,” he huffed, closing the textbook and shoving it back into his back. I snapped out of my trance and panicked, grabbing ahold of his bicep. His skin was warm and I felt the muscle flex at my touch. 

“Wait, Matt,” I said, sitting up. He was already standing, my hand sliding down his arm to gently grasp his wrist. “Please stay. Please.”

I swallowed harshly, staring up at him through my lashes. I let go of his wrist and rested my hands in my lap. Matt exhaled, smiling softly as he sat back down and shook his head. 

“What do you want?” he asked gently. “Did you really ask me to come over to study? ‘Cause it really seems like you don’t want my help.”

“I do,” I said. “I just… I like having you around.” 

Matt bit the inside of his cheek, rubbing his forehead. 

“You were in my dream last night,” I continued, pulling my knees to my chest and backing away from him. His head snapped up to look at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “It was… weird. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” 

“What happened?” he asked, tilting his head and resting it in his palm. 

What had happened was that we had sex in a bathtub, from what I remember. I never usually had dreams like that, but when I did, it was typically only about someone I was severely attracted to. Like Matt. 

“I don’t really remember,” I lied. “It was just weird.” 

“Hmm. Must have been pretty crazy if it’s been on your mind all day,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Matt looked at me, waiting for my response. I didn’t say anything; I had no idea what to say. He pretty much had me backed into a corner. 

He was right. All day, all the time I spent with him, I was just imagining what he would be like in bed. I figured he knew a lot of people, and he was severely attractive, so I couldn’t imagine him having any trouble finding a hookup every so often. I wondered if he’d been in any situations with the other underclassmen that he tutored, like the one he was in with me. Were there other peers of his that were falling behind because of their infatuation too? Or was it actually just me, and this was all uncharted territory for him?

I wondered if he even knew the effect he had on me. I tried not to make it obvious, but based on the fact that I never paid attention to his lecture and rather focused on the way his mouth and throat moved when he spoke and the way his eyes glistened in the light of golden hour, there was no way he couldn’t tell. 

My train of thought was cut off when Matt leaned forward, softly caressing my chin with one large hand. I gasped slightly, flinching at the contact. He leaned in close and traced my bottom lip with his thumb, looking deeply into my eyes with dilated pupils. I choked; there was no way he was going to get any words out of me at that moment. 

“If you can focus and stick with me to get through this one chapter,” He started, his voice reduced to a deep purr that sent shivers down my spine. “I will stay the night. Okay?”

I nodded, completely willing to obey him and do literally whatever he said. Matt grinned, glancing down at my lips for a brief moment. “Good girl,” he purred. He removed his hand from my jaw, pushing my hair away from my face. He leaned back, dodging me as I leaned forward in an attempt to connect our lips. “Get your notebook.”

My head was spinning and my cheeks turned red. I had to snap out of it if I was going to finish this unit or even get close to crossing the threshold with Matt. I was way more concerned about the latter. He had me wrapped around his finger. 

Matt watched me scramble to get my things together, a content smile on his face. I took a deep breath and laughed, trying to compose myself. He giggled softly, which didn’t help me at all. I’m glad you think this is funny. 

With some trouble, I managed to overall stay on task and focused for about an hour until we finished the chapter. Matt caught me zoned out a few times, but he kept giving me second chance after second chance, gently trying to steer me back in the right direction. He kept telling me that I was getting there and that I wasn’t stupid and that physics would not be the death of me. 

“It’s a one-semester class. It’s almost over,” He told me, before rubbing my shoulder and then proceeding to read from his textbook. 

Once we were done, I got up to use the dorm restroom so I could brush my teeth and wash my face. I was mentally exhausted and it was almost 2 AM at that point. I had completely forgotten Matt’s promise, so when I stepped back into my dorm room and saw him getting situated on the floor, I was a little confused. I remembered just as I closed the door behind me and locked it for the night. 

“So tell me about your dream last night,” He said, not wasting any time. I sat on the edge of my bed, throwing one of my extra pillows at him as he laid a blanket that he brought down on the floor. So he planned to stay the night. I wondered whether he was actually going to leave when he said he would, or if he just said that to make me beg him to stay. 

“Oh, y’know, just…” I mumbled, reluctant to share what I remembered of it. “It was weird.”

“Well, I already know that,” He laughed. “Tell me more.”

I looked him in the eyes, feeling my body start to burn up. “There was a bathtub involved. I remember that much,” I told him, sighing softly. 

Matt’s eyes shot wide open, a devilish smirk creeping up his face. He looked me up and down, his gaze softening as he did so, before shying away and looking down at his feet. 

“That does sound crazy,” he said, exhaling. 

“Mhm,” I hummed, looking at the ceiling. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the space next to me on my bed. It was then that I became so grateful for the fact that I had my own dorm all to myself. I nodded, scooting over for seemingly no reason as Matt plopped himself right next to me, elbow brushing mine. “Do you remember anything else?”

I shook my head, staring at my wall. I looked at him, seeing if he had anything else to say. Part of me wanted him to be able to tell that I was lying and there was in fact much more to my dream than I was letting up. 

“C’mon, you can tell me,” he egged, grinning softly. He nudged me with his elbow. “Are you embarrassed?” 

“I just don’t remember,” I stated, shrugging. I pushed his shoulder in response to him pushing me. 

“Well, if it’s the kind of dream I’m thinking of…” he started, purring again. “By all means, don’t be embarrassed.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him again. “Gross,” I mumbled, full of shit. I regretted saying that. I didn’t want him to back off, but I didn’t know what else to say and he was making me nervous. I squirmed next to him and pulled my shorts down slightly. 

“You’re blushing~” he teased me. 

“Shut up,” I said. I bit my lip, taking a deep breath and turning my head towards him so he could see that, yes, I was in fact blushing. Heavily.

Matt grabbed my chin again, tilting my head up. I leaned in, but he held my face in place, preventing me from getting any closer to him. Let me kiss you, asshole. 

“How do you find acceleration?” he asked softly. I rested my hand on his knee, slowly sliding it up under his shorts. 

“You… multiply the change in velocity by the change in time,” I said quietly, peering up into his eyes. 

“Good girl,” he grinned, leaning forward to press his lips against mine. 

Matt’s hand moved to caress the side of my neck, pushing my hair back and pulling me closer. His lips were so warm, moving slowly with mine as they fit together perfectly. I squirmed a little bit, moving my hand without really knowing where I was gonna put it. My fingertips brushed his jaw and I felt him smile into the kiss. 

“You’re so timid,” he stated. His large hand moved down to my hip, gripping it slightly and pulling me towards him. Without another thought, I climbed into his lap, placing my hands on either side of his neck and quickly kissing him again. 

Matt introduced his tongue into the mix as he pulled my hips closer, pressing them against his hard-on. He groaned into the kiss, his mouth hanging open for a moment while my tongue slid against his. I ran my fingers through his short, curly hair, before sliding my hands down to lay flat on his chest, pulling my lips away from his. 

I was hungry for him. Starving, even. I pushed his chest, making him lay down underneath me as I leaned forward and started kissing his neck, specifically the freckle under his ear. Matt groaned again, sliding his hands up my thighs and around my hips. He lightly squeezed the flesh of my ass, his fingertips slipping underneath the hem of my booty shorts so he could trace circles into my skin. Meanwhile, I was busy kissing, nibbling, and sucking on his neck, listening to each strangled breath he held in as I left little marks on his skin. 

My own hands explored his body, caressing his small waist overtop his T-shirt. It smelled like fresh laundry and it looked good on him, but I knew it would look better on the floor. I adjusted my hips so that I could reach under the hem of his shirt, lifting it up as my hands slid up his warm body, feeling each of his muscles tense up and flex at my touch. 

I pulled my lips away from his neck and sat up, looking at him as I pulled his shirt over his head. His face was bright red and his neck was covered in light bruises, his lips hanging slightly agape as he stared at me, breathing heavily. I tossed the shirt on the floor, letting my eyes trail down his body. 

“Fuck,” I whispered. He looked absolutely divine underneath me. He was skinny, but he certainly had some muscle in his arms and chest and even a little bit in his abdomen. Matt’s waist was curvy, his hips protruding outward and up, giving him an almost feminine figure. He had a small patch of hair on his chest and a thicker one trailing from his belly button down below his pants. Everything about his body was perfect. I felt myself almost drooling at the sight. 

“You have a staring problem,” he stated, grinning. His hands ran up and down my thighs, gently squeezing them. I blinked, looking at his face. I swallowed harshly and leaned forward to place kisses up his throat, his head tilting as far back as it could to give me more room. 

“I just like to look at nice things,” I hummed, gently pinching his skin between my teeth. The area was more sensitive due to how thin the skin there was, his Adam’s apple just underneath my lips. He whimpered softly, hands traveling up my waist underneath my shirt. 

My own hands lingered just above his hips, caressing his body as I started to drag my lips and tongue down his neck, over his collarbone, and then his chest. We were sideways on my bed, and if I kissed any lower, I’d have had to get on the floor. 

He ran one of his hands through my hair, groaning as I started sucking another bruise into his chest, right below his sternum. “Oh, fuck me…” he purred. I looked up, seeing his head thrown back and all the pretty dark red and purple spots I put on his neck. I giggled into his skin, causing him to laugh as well. 

I sat up, rubbing my thumb over the fresh bruise I put on his body while adjusting my hips so that I sat directly on his bulge, which was pressing hard against me. I shivered, spreading my legs a little more until a sharp pain shot up the inside of my thigh.

“Ah, fuck!” I hissed, my body collapsing slightly as I tried not to move my leg any further. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, ow…”

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, sitting up. He wrapped his arms around my waist, one of his hands gently resting on my leg. 

“I pulled a muscle,” I whined, screwing my eyes shut. Matt laughed slightly, shaking his head. 

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Here, lay down.”

He lifted my hips, placing one of my pillows under my ass and tenderly moving my legs so that they were laying straight and not spread. He hovered over me, kissing and massaging my thighs while I tried to let my body relax into my bed. “This leg?” he asked, rubbing circles into my left thigh. I nodded, sitting up slightly so I could move my hair to a more comfortable spot. Not that it really mattered; it was gonna get messed up in about ten minutes anyway. 

Matt placed a soft, wet kiss into the skin of my compromised leg, looking up at me through his lashes. I could feel the cold metal of his glasses press into my skin, poking me slightly. I reached down to run my fingers through his curls, pulling them lightly. 

“Do you wanna keep going?” he asked me. I nodded frantically.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, laughing softly. “Not the worst thing that’s happened to me during sex.”

He giggled, pressing a few more soft kisses into my thigh before climbing on top of me and straddling my hips. 

“I really liked that,” he exhaled, pushing my hair out of my face. 

“Liked what?” I asked, my hands resting on his warm, freckled shoulders. 

“You kissing all over my body. It was hot,” he grinned. He was such a dork. 

Matt gently grabbed my hand, placing it right between his legs onto his bulge. The material of his shorts was slippery, allowing me to rub and squeeze him through the fabric. He felt warm. Warm, hard, and big.

He exhaled, immediately leaning in to kiss me as I caressed him, playing with both his dick and his balls in one hand. He let out a moan, his hips subtly rolling into my hand as he tried to get more friction out of the contact. I squeezed him harder, causing his hips to buck forward. 

“Fuck, so good…” he mumbled, laughing slightly. 

I let go of him, sitting up for a moment to pull my tank top over my head, leaving my torso completely exposed. 

I brought one of his hands to palm my breast (which was almost half the size of his entire hand), and I looked him in the eyes. “Put your knee between my legs. Like, push against me,” I told him. He obliged, applying a good amount of pressure to my core while my hand returned to his crotch. My other hand pulled him back down into a kiss, opening my mouth for his tongue to slide in. 

It took him a moment to figure out what to do, but after a few seconds, both he and I were coming undone. I’d reached inside his shorts and boxers to caress his cock, running my thumb along the base gently and squeezing it at the same time. Meanwhile, he alternated between both of my boobs, spending a few seconds on one, massaging it and pinching my nipple, before switching to the other. 

Suddenly, he pulled away, his eyelids hanging low with hunger in his eyes. “Can I touch you?” he asked, caressing my waist. 

“Please,” I giggled, panting. Matt smiled and brought his hand down to rub over my shorts. I still held him gently, watching his hand manage to pull my shorts off by itself.

Two of his fingers dipped between my legs, prodding the outside of my underwear and likely finding nothing but wetness. 

“Oh, you must want me so bad,” he teased me, biting his lip. 

“Mmm, I guess,” I teased him back. He rolled his eyes, pushing my underwear to the side so he could run his fingertips between my lips, collecting my slick and rubbing circles into me. 

I sighed, closing my eyes and squirming slightly. I thought about how hot it would be for him and I to have sex in the library. That was becoming an increasingly likely possibility as each second passed by. 

“Does that feel good?” He asked. I suppose I’d gone quiet for a moment. 

“Mhm,” I nodded, grabbing his hand so I could guide it to a better spot. Matt leaned down and over me, his face inches from mine as he watched where my hand was taking his. 

“You can put your fingers in,” I told him, whispering. I looked up at him, waiting for him to heed my instructions. It wasn’t long before I felt him push into me, lightly moving in and out inch by inch, deeper and deeper with each thrust. 

He started to kiss my neck, softly and slowly to match the pace of his fingers. He nipped at a spot just below my jaw, making me hum slightly in bliss and he licked and sucked on the skin. 

He started moving faster, pushing deeper and curling his fingers inside of me to brush against that infamous spot over and over again. “Matt-“ I moaned out, choking slightly as I held my breath. 

Matt chuckled softly, pushing his fingers deeper. “I’m right here,” he purred, leaving a wet kiss on my jaw. 

“Please fuck me, Matt. I-I want you,” I groaned. He was working magic with his fingers, but I was more interested in what he could do with his dick. I was starting to get desperate. 

Suddenly, he removed his fingers, wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean. He looked kind of silly doing it, but his lips were now covered in my slick and he hummed in pleasure as he swallowed it. 

He rubbed my thighs as he pushed himself off the bed, quickly standing up to reach into his back for God knows what. I shimmied out of my underwear, sitting up with my knees together as I watched him pull something shiny out of the front pocket. 

“I didn’t realize you came so prepared,” I teased him, crossing my arms over my knees. First the blanket, now a condom. He didn’t even ask me first if I had one in my room (I didn’t). 

“Rather be safe than sorry,” Matt shrugged, sitting on his knees in front of me as he grinned and pulled his shorts off. He wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath either. 

“And no underwear? Matthew!” I gasped, whacking his arm. I watched as he took himself in his hand, stroking lightly. I moved his hand away and caressed his warmth, moving my hand up and down slowly while pressing into it with my thumb. Matt moaned softly with his mouth closed, bottom lip trapped under his teeth as he rested his forehead against mine. 

I pecked his lips, making him look at me as I carefully removed his glasses with my free hand. His eyes had to cross slightly due to how close my face was to his. I giggled, letting go of his cock and setting his glasses down on my nightstand. 

I laid down, pulling him close by his neck and into a kiss. The kiss was soft, like the first one we shared. Just passionate and gentle, taking care of each other. It finally hit me that this was really happening. My dream was becoming a reality. Minus the bathtub. 

“You okay?” He asked me, his eyes darting nervously around my face. I nodded, kissing him again, harder this time. 

I felt his tip brush against my inner thigh, smearing warm precum on my skin. My body tensed up as I gasped into the kiss, pulling away to look down at our hips, inches away from each other. 

“Hold on,” Matt grunted, sitting up. His head turned every which way, searching for the unopened condom that he’d prepared and somehow lost. The bed shifted slightly as he leaned over the edge to pick it up off of the floor, tearing it open with his teeth like an animal. 

It was hot. 

My eyes trailed down his body again, admiring the way his skin wrapped around his muscles while his chest moved at each breath he drew in. His lips hung agape as he slid the condom on, his movements hasty but careful. 

I lifted my body up, sitting on my knees in front of him and matching his height. My hands slid onto his waist, caressing his body once again as I kissed him before he could ask any questions. 

He stopped, taking in the kiss. His hand gently wrapped around my throat, before grabbing my whole face and pushing me away. 

“Quit making me feel girly,” he said, his face red and flushed. 

I ran my hands up and down his body, making him shiver. “You like it,” I teased him. I placed my hands flat on each of his pec muscles and squeezed them like they were a pair of tits. Matt rolled his eyes, taking my hands in his.

My body fell backward, crashing into the bed. Matt pinned my hands over my head, looking me dead in the eyes. “You ready?” he asked quietly, stroking my wrist with his thumb. 

I nodded.

“Good,” he smiled, giving me a sweet peck on the lips. He let go of my hands and instead grabbed my hips, shifting his body so that his tip was lined up with my entrance. Matt looked at me one more time for approval, seeing me bite my lip and nod. 

It hurt way more than I thought it would. I’d noted the fact that he was big when I held him in his shorts and laid eyes on him a few minutes before, but wow. I took a deep breath, gripping the sheet underneath me as he pushed in slowly at first, then rammed in the rest of his length once he got the tip in. Immediately he sent a shockwave of pleasure through my body, the bed shifting slightly from the momentum he created until he bottomed out. 

He stretched me out a bit, but God, did it feel like Heaven. “I’m okay,” I laughed, out of breath. Matt smiled at me before laying down on top of me, wrapping my legs around his waist. He didn’t waste much time before beginning to move in and out, already starting to fall apart himself. 

“You feel so good,” he exhaled, his hips shuddering slightly with each thrust. His words made me feel hot; my face burned up and my stomach felt warm from both my reaction and the friction between our bodies as his skin rubbed against mine. 

I knew that I wasn’t gonna be the best sex he's ever had; there was no way. I’m sure he’d taken multiple peoples’ virginities at this point and there was no way I could compare to that. 

“Would you believe me if I told you this was my first time?” Matt grunted, sending a pointed thrust into me. I looked at him, somewhat horrified. 

“No,” I answered. “Is it?”

“No,” he grinned, shaking his head. “I’m just messing with you. You got all quiet.”

I hummed, looking at the ceiling. His smile quickly faded and he caressed my cheek, hovering over me. 

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, his tone sad, but empathetic. I shook my head. 

“Go faster,” I said, taking a deep breath. I pulled his face down, his lips crashing into mine. A smothered moan escaped his throat as I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling his hips in by squeezing my legs around his waist. Matt reached one hand behind my head, grabbing a fistful of my hair as he started to thrust into me, each movement faster than the other. 

His free hand moved to start massaging my breast, matching the pace of his thrusts as he squeezed and pinched. 

“Hmmn- fuck…” he whimpered. Matt’s voice had gained a higher pitch as he moved faster. “Fuck, I think I’m close…” 

“Rub my clit,” I told him, removing his hand from my chest. “Fuck me harder.”

Matt huffed, propping himself up so he could see what his hands were doing. One remained behind my head, while the other traced down my body, stopping at my hips. He spread his hand out so that his palm was pressing down on my lower stomach and his thumb rubbed circles into my aching clit. The movement of his hips had shifted from a smooth roll to a more jagged, harsh thrust as he followed my instructions. 

“Perfect,” I moaned, gripping the sheets beneath me. My hips bucked, causing them to land at a new angle that allowed him to hit that spot again and again. 

“Fuck,” Matt whined for the 80th time. “I’m so close.”

“Keep going,” I moaned. I could feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter and tighter. Everything he was doing to my body only pushed me closer; he was making me feel so good and I didn’t want the moment to end. 

Suddenly, Matt’s moans started to get louder and more frequent as his hips stuttered with each thrust. The sounds he was making were so heavenly; I felt boastfully lucky to be hearing them and being the reason he was making them. 

“You’re so pretty, Matt,” I huffed, arching my back. I moaned out loud, feeling my climax approaching like a fucking bullet. Matt was not far behind whatsoever. 

He leaned forward, kissing me on the lips and thrusting into me as hard as he could. I yelped, moving my hands to grip his hair as my body started shaking violently. I came in a fit of loud moans and whines, his name lingering in my curses as I caught my breath. 

Matt gasped, whining as the rhythm of his thrusts was disrupted. I could practically feel his dick throb as he came, still inside of me. He exhaustedly moaned into my mouth, letting me shove my tongue between his lips and kiss him harshly while he was still catching his breath.  

“Can we do that again sometime?” he asked me, panting into my mouth. I looked into his eyes, pushing the curls that were stuck to his sweaty forehead away from his face. 

“One-hundred percent,” I giggled, pulling him in for a soft kiss. My legs were trembling alongside his arms.

We laid for a little while, catching our breath and taking in the feeling of our bodies pressed against each other, relaxing. I was sure Matt was very close to falling asleep, and I didn’t blame him. It was late and I too was exhausted. 

Eventually, we both got up, and I pulled on his gray T-shirt so I could run to the bathroom and clean up. I brought back a wet rag so he could clean himself up, before he pulled his shorts back on and climbed under the covers with me. 

“Promise me something,” he said. 

“What’s up?” I asked, snuggling up to his chest while he wrapped his arms around me. 

“Promise that you’ll still pay attention to the work during our next session,” He laughed, pulling me closer. His body was still warm and his skin was soft. 

“Will you reward me if I do?” I asked, looking up at him. 

Matt smirked, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I promise if you promise.”

“I promise,” I whispered, kissing him softly. He smiled in the kiss, softly tracing my jaw with his thumb. 

“I promise too,” he said.

[harlowtales]

Reader X Jack are enjoying a lazy day with their new puppy until reader goes too far and pays the price.

18+ Sweet/Romance/Smut 🚨⚠️

“How are you feeling babe? It’s almost roll out time.” You said affectionately as you ran your fingers through Jack’s curls with his head in your lap. At first you didn’t like the mullet, but now, it turned you on even more if that was possible.

“I’m feeling good baby. It’s finally done and I can chill with you in my biggest, baggy clothes and just fucking play with the puppy.” Jack said and pointed up at you with his lips ready for a kiss.

She was so good when you were gone weren’t you sweetheart?” You cooed at the brown poodle as she jumped up on you wagging her tail enthusiastically.

It was you and Jack’s first attempt at taking care of something together. So far Jack was the doting dad. He ran out and bought everything a puppy could want.

Ok I’ll take her outside for a bit he said getting up from lazing around happily in your lap.

You were having a convo about his first single from the new album dropping. Jack was not super into promo so he was looking for a simple and quick idea to generate buzz.

“You know what Jack, that clip you released on Tik Tok did so well for First Class, why not just do that again?” You suggested.

“What here right now?” He said

“Right now with pups.” You said with that look on your face that Jack couldn’t say no to.

“K what do you want me to do.” Jack said open for anything you had to say.

“Just play with her and sing some of the lyrics.” You said

“That’s it?” He said raising an eyebrow

“That’s it and we’ll put it up. It’ll go viral.” You said assuredly.

“Ight. You know best baby.” He said and started playing with the puppy with the phone on the floor. You looked on in awe of how sweet they both were. These were the simple times you craved with Jack and now your new fur baby. You hoped for a real baby someday with him.

“That was awesome! Let’s post it, don’t redo it or overthink it.” You said and posted it right away. You checked back in an hour and was so excited to see the views, saves, likes, and comments already. “Babe!!! It’s going crazy!” You exclaimed hitting Jack in the arm with excitement.

“That’s all you baby thank you.” Jack said as he snuggled with you on the couch. Little puppers fell asleep in the little space between your legs and you laid on your boyfriend.

“So what are we binging this weekend?” You looked up and asked him

“Anything you want bubs.” He said nuzzling his nose into your neck giving you little kisses with his soft pink lips.

“Pinch me I’m dreaming.” You said wistfully and playfully scruffed up his beard. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and you felt him growing through his sweatpants

“Babe. No, I wanna just chill.” You said

“I’m not starting anything.” Jack lied as he pressed his hips into your back for you to feel the bulge even more.

“You vanilla and a baby anyway.” You said kissing your teeth and rolling your eyes

“Say that again.” Jack challenged. “Matter fact…off me.” He said pushing you to the side enough so he could get up and put the puppy in its cage. “Bedroom. NOW.” He ordered pointing to the bedroom you recently started sharing with him.

“Jackman I was just kidding. They’re your lyrics!!!” You protested as you marched to the bedroom

“You ain’t using my songs against me woman.” Jack said as he closed the door. “Take everything off.” He said and just laid back waiting for you to comply.

“You can’t be serious.” You said half giggling, half afraid. He was being so intense. Jack had a great sense of humour but part of him didn’t like to be ribbed or teased.

“Slower.” He said as you started taking off your clothes. You slowly pulled the TShirt you were wearing that was his over your head. As it landed on the floor you undid your bra’s front clasp to reveal firm beautiful natural breasts and slipped off one strap, then another. He grasped his hard-on building in his sweatpants, taking it all in.

“Turn around and close your eyes.” He said then he walked away. Was this a prank? You thought.

“Jackman….where did you go?” You called out as you stood there in just your underwear with your eyes closed

You felt cold leather and Jack breathing behind you. He placed a blindfold over your eyes and lead you to where you could feel the bed.

“This vanilla enough for you?.” He said in a sexy but sinister way.

“You know what Jack? You’re not vanilla at all baby.” You pleaded

“No take backs” Jack said sternly.

He gently bent you over and tied your hands behind your back with one of his neck ties. “Jack?? Baby, I like that you’re not really adventurous babe.” You said making it worse for yourself.

“Do you ever shut up?” He asked calmly and you could hear the smile in his voice. His fingers trailed up your inner thighs and moved your underwear to the side.

You felt the head of his impressive manhood testing and teasing your space. Gently poking, pulling back out and poking in only half way again. With each slight reentry you responded with more and more slick approval. “Ummmmmmm” You moaned wanting him to just put all of it in but afraid to demand it lest you paid the price.

“Vanilla huh?” Jack said circling around you now, producing a belt from behind his back.

“Jack no you are….my god so thrilling.” You said apologizing

“Say it like you mean it.” He said snapping the belt making you jump nervously. Where was all this coming from? Most times were mostly missionary, but here you were tied, blind folded, and bent over at 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Jack please.” You begged and he loved it. He teased your bare behind with the belt trailing the smooth leather over one cheek before giving you a little tap just enough to sting. An electric shock ran up your spine as you gasped and a red sore spot was left behind.

He untied you but left you blindfolded grabbing a vibrator from the nightstand. Your vibrator that you didn’t know he knew about. He laid you on your back and held it to your clit driving you insane. Taking the vibrator he slowly put it into your sore space that was wanting more. “Fuck Jack!” You cried out as he sucked on your clit while driving the vibrator in and out of you. He saw all the cum dripping from it and needed that to be him inside you now.

He put you on your side holding one of your legs in the air with his soft hand applying pressure to your throat. He pumped you hard making you scream, pausing and driving deeper for you to feel every inch pressing your G spot. Your legs shook as you erupted in agony. Covering your mouth he got more and more aggressive until he felt your single tear trickle down his hand.

He gave you time to breathe as he stroked himself and came up to your mouth. He positioned you where he wanted you with your head upside down. “Be a good girl and open for baby boy.” He said patting the side of your cheek. You opened wide as he thrust into your mouth making you hold his thighs to steady yourself. You drooled all over him as he repeatedly slid his whole shaft down your throat until he let you come up for air.

He couldn’t take it anymore and took off your blindfold. You enveloped his warm pulsating sack with the fleshy warmth of your mouth and sucked as he jerked and came all over your breasts. “Y/n ah my god!” He exclaimed in painful pleasure smearing his sweet cream all over your chest. You cradled your breasts licking it off. He collapsed beside you on the bed both of you naked, heaving, and glistening with sweat.

You heard the puppy whining in the cage. “Perfect timing” he said recovering his breath “Coming little sweetie.” He called out to the puppy and pulled on his sweatpants to tend to her.

You stayed motionless on the bed not able to move or speak. “I guess I was wrong.” You thought “My favourite flavour is vanilla now.”

@jacks-daycare @ride4harlow @itsyagirljaz

[tkwrites]

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies - Matthew Tkachuk x ofc

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Matthew Tkachuk x Original female character 

Warnings: smut (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), lots of teasing, mentions of a past, bad semi-controlling relationship.

Summary: When Matthew admits he wants to be bossed around by his girlfriend, she decides to surprise him after a long stint away from home.

Word count: 8500 

Comments: This was inspired by a very intense dream I had a while ago. It’s been in my drafts for more than 2 months as I’ve tried to get it right - trying to find the right balance between smut and story. I originally started this with Quinn and Sarah in mind, but almost instantly realized this wasn't their story. 

I think Matthew is adorable, and thought he would be a perfect fit for it. I thought about this post a lot while I was writing it. 

This is so long and way more smutty than anything I’ve ever posted for others to read. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

The moment he walked in the house, his eyes were drawn to the bedroom light filtering across the kitchen. Sophie had tried to stay up for him. She did this occasionally, and every time, he would find her in bed, asleep with her glasses still on and a book open on her chest. 

Smiling at the prospect, he set down his bag and shed the raincoat he hadn't bothered to take off in the car. 

“Bedroom. Now.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when her voice came from somewhere behind him. 

He turned to find her, but she rebuked him before he saw anything. "I didn't say you could look, Matthew." 

His body responded immediately. Fuck, that's hot. 

More than a month before, she had asked if he had any fantasies he wanted to explore. He admitted that he wanted to be… not dominated - he didn't want to be tied down or anything - but he wanted to be ordered around. The image of Sophie, assertive and demanding, taking pleasure from his body was the subject of many of his dreams. 

It had been so long since that conversation, he'd nearly forgotten about his hushed, “I think about you bossing me around all the time.” 

"Bedroom. Now," she repeated. 

He rushed to get there, leaving his things strewn on the mudroom floor. 

Upon arriving home, he had leaned into his fatigue, prepared to fall into bed, tucking his desire away until morning. This was a totally different welcome than the one he'd been expecting. Adrenaline coursed into his veins banishing the fatigue all together. 

The click of heels followed him through the house, a kind of suspenseful music that ticked to the beat of his heart. 

She was even wearing heels? She never wore heels at home. 

“I hope you're getting undressed,” she said in a sing-songy voice when he got to the bedroom. 

He jumped to obey.  

“Leave your pants on, though.”

He had to redo the zipper, not an easy task with his erection testing the limits of his boxers. He told himself it would be worth it as he re-buttoned his pants. 

The buttons on his shirt nearly popped off in his desperation to get out of it as he toed off his shoes. He didn't like to be barefoot nearly ever, but it was an ick of hers for him to be in bed with only socks on, so he removed them before tossing everything into the closet. 

“Very good,” she said, appearing in the doorway, wearing a dark red robe and black heels with complicated looking straps around her ankles. 

Rooted to the spot and unable to look away, Matthew devoured each deliberate, slow movement as she stalked closer to him. Lace winked at him from between the lapels of her robe. It made him ravenous to see what exactly was under all that silk. 

He started to salivate as his mind caught on to the reality that he would only need to pull the sash at her waist and she would be nearly naked. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

“Tell me, Matthew, did you expect this?”

He shook his head. He could hardly believe it was even happening. She even had her hair down and curled. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

She wrinkled her nose, breaking character. A relieved smile spread over his face. He knew this was a character, but having it confirmed that his sweet, funny Sophie was still in there put him more at ease. 

“Not ma'am,” she said, “that makes me sound old. Miss?” she mused, “that's not much better.”

“Mistress,” he supplied. 

She cut her eyes at him, “is that what you call me when you dream about this?”

“N-no,” he stammered.

“What do you call me then?” she asked, placing her hand on his bare chest. 

Gulping, he barely bit back a moan at the skin to skin contact.  

“What do you call me when you dream about being bossed around, Matthew?” she repeated, voice quiet and seductive in his ear as she moved even closer. The silk of her robe brushed against his arm. 

“Sophie,” he said. This time, his voice was a moan. 

His confession hit her full force. He wasn't just interested in being bossed around - he was interested in being bossed around by her. She expected this fantasy to be farther from reality.

“Let's try this again,” she said, mostly for herself. “Matthew, do you like what I'm wearing?”

“Yes.”  

“Yes?” 

“Yes, Sophie.” 

“Good,” she praised, trailing her hand around his rib cage. “Kiss me.”

He pounced like a starved man, catching her mouth in a kiss that was all at once passionate and consuming. 

When his hand ran up the smooth fabric covering her back, he felt it through his whole body.

Taking control, she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked. He was instantly transported back to the first time she'd done this same thing after their second date. His legs still turned to putty. It felt so good every time. She tugged on his hair and he let out noise he never made with anyone else. 

This was a side of Sophie he'd never seen at home. 

It often came out in other places when decisions needed to be made. She always had a quiet confidence about her, but when a crisis happened, or no one was stepping up to make decisions, she, as she called it, “put on her boss pants and got shit done."

The first time she'd done it, they'd been on vacation with some friends and missed their boat back to the hotel. He'd been embarrassingly turned on by the way she had taken control, calming everyone down and ordering him to call the hotel concierge so they could get some directions. After that, he doubled his efforts, trying to convince her to give him a chance as more than a friend. 

Now that the bossy side of her was finally directed at him in their bedroom, he couldn't get enough. 

She broke away and kissed her way up to his ear. “Am I doing okay?” she asked softly.  

Okay? She practically had him on his knees. It was so unfair for this to come right after a road trip. He was already starving for her, and now she was teasing.  

“Yes,” he panted.

She took a step back from him, “Do you want to see what I have on underneath?”

He nodded, seconds away from actually dropping to his knees to beg for her. It had been seven long days since he'd had her, and this situation had him ready to do whatever he needed to to please her. 

“Go ahead,” she said, letting her arms fall open to give him free access.

His hands lept to the tie, which fell away easily. His eyes widened as he pushed the silk off her shoulders and it pooled at her elbows.

“Do you like it?” she asked, letting the silk flutter onto the floor. 

She wore a black lace bra that made her boobs look incredible with, it looked like, matching cheeky panties, just like she knew he liked. 

Saliva pooled under his tongue. Oh God. He was fucked. 

"Matthew, do you like it?" she asked again, throwing in a twirl for good measure. 

Catching his first glimpse of her ass, the lace riding half way up her cheeks, his knees nearly buckled. She was so damn sexy. 

His over eager nod had him feeling like some kind of cartoon character - too fast and exaggerated. 

The whole time she had been devising this plan, Sophie had imagined his reaction to this lingerie. She knew he would like it. Looking at him now, with his blown pupils and fingers flexing at his sides, she found she wanted to tease him just a little bit more. 

Turning her back to him, she bent down to unlatch her right shoe. 

His groan was the stuff dreams were made of.

His hand caressed over her left hip, and she batted it away. 

“I didn't give you permission to touch,” she said, standing straight as she turned around, only one of the three right straps undone. 

A desperate sound escaped his throat, and he forced himself to ask, “can I please touch you, Sophie?” 

Tapping an index finger on her lips, she pretended to think. “I'm not sure you've earned that, yet.” 

The shock that covered his face was almost instantly replaced by competitive determination. “What do I need to do?” he asked, his voice sounding like it'd been raked over hot coals. 

“Let's see if you can keep your hands to yourself for at least one shoe, yeah?” 

Matthew hated and loved this idea with every fiber of his being. Sophie didn't usually tease. Now that she was, he found he only wanted more.

Once he agreed, she turned around again - because of course she did - and bent over, showcasing the natural flexibility every woman in his family was envious of. She was going to kill him. Or slowly drive him insane. Or perhaps both. 

Matthew shoved his hands in his pockets and fisted them to keep them from developing a mind of their own. 

With the fiddly straps undone, she decided it was enough. His breathing was getting more and more ragged, which had her so turned on, she could feel her desire soaking her little lace panties. 

Raising to a flat back position, she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you going to ask again?” 

He swallowed visibly, “can I please touch you?” 

“Yes.” 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and she watched his fingers flex and contract as if they'd been fisted so tightly, he needed to bring blood back into them. 

He reached for her. 

“But-” he stopped immediately, letting out a little whine. “You can't take anything off.” 

Nodding quickly, he agreed. He just needed his hands on her.

She bent over again, and his hands caressed her soft hips. 

“Fuck, Sophie.” After all that, touching her felt like it's own reward. 

With the other buckles undone she stood, making sure to toss her hair back into his face when she did. 

He grunted, pulling her against him so she could feel what she was doing to him. 

"What do you want?" she asked, one hand slipping around the back of his neck as she kicked off her shoes. 

With the heels gone, Matthew reveled in having his normal sized girlfriend back. "I want whatever you want to give me."

Turning in his embrace, one of her eyebrows rose. "Whatever I want to give you?" she repeated, trailing her fingers from his waistband to his nipple, which she circled delicately. 

Nodding, he made a sort of muffled, whining, affermatory noise. 

"What if I want to give you what you want?"

“That's not…uh, I, uh,”  a jumble of gibberish fell out of his mouth. He was having a hard time focusing enough to form coherent words, still trying to reconcile the Sophie in front of him with the one he'd expected to find. Meanwhile, her finger still circled the sensitive nub, sending so much electricity shooting between his legs, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this hard in his life. 

Her mouth brushed against his ear before she asked again, "what do you want, Matthew?” Gently taking the lobe between her teeth, she nibbled 

The way she kept saying his name coupled with how she was touching him made his brain short circuit into primitive, caveman thinking. "I want to make you come."

"How?"

This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be telling him what to do, not the other way around. 

Taking a deep breath, he paused to make his thoughts coherent before telling her, "you tell me. You're supposed to be the one ordering me around."

Sophie blushed. She knew he wanted her assertive and bossy, but neither of those were things she could just pull out at the drop of a hat - especially in the bedroom. It was one thing to tease him by dangling what she knew he wanted just out of reach. It was something totally different to order him around like he was some kind of pet. She'd been trying to circumnavigate around her discomfort by ordering him to tell her what he wanted. It was a cop out and she knew it. 

"You promise this is okay?" she asked, letting nerves shake her voice. 

This was fantasy brought to life in a way he'd never expected. Looking into her eyes, he brought her hand to the front of his trousers so she could feel how he strained against the zipper. "More than okay. Tell me what you want me to do." 

Standing straight, she steeled herself and tried not to let her voice warble. "I want your mouth," she said.

There was no shock in his face, only a deepening desire as his eyes grew darker.

Oh. 

This wasn't just for her. 

He wanted it. 

He liked it. 

A force she'd never felt before flowed down her spine, filling her with conviction. Leaning into that newfound power, she added, "and I want to be on top." 

She'd fantasized about it for so long, but had never been brave enough to tell him. 

“Gladly,” he rasped, mind already racing with images and ideas. 

For his part, Matthew wanted to give her any and every experience she wanted, but knew she wouldn't ask for the things she felt were more risqué as part of their normal, everyday life.

He hoped this fantasy of his might kill two birds with one stone.

Unable to look away, his breath locked in his chest as she hooked her thumbs in her panties, easing the sides down. 

"Do you want to -" she stopped herself, before swallowing and starting again. "Matthew?"

“Yeah?” 

"I want you to take off my lingerie."

Getting orders from her was even hotter than he dreamed it would be. He was going to start drooling here if he wasn't careful.

Back to her in a flash, he slid his fingers to the clasp of her bra. Palms skimming over her breasts, he eased the fabric off. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said, letting the lace drop to the ground. 

Glancing into her face, voice gruff, he asked, “can I use my mouth on you here?”

She nodded, letting out a breathy, “yes.”

As his mouth went to her breasts, licking and kissing, his hands swept over her hips so he could take large handfuls of her ass in those damn underwear. 

Her mind began to spin. Not only from his talented mouth, now laving at one of her nipples, but because of her plan. She wanted him in her mouth before they made love. She needed to rethink her strategy to make sure he had enough time to recover.

His hands slowly slid up to her waistband, relishing the texture of the lace contrasted against her smooth, warm skin. 

“Stop,” she ordered before he could push her underwear off.

He pulled his mouth away, but didn't take his hands off of her. 

When she went to his neck, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses, his fingers curled into the flesh of her hips. His head tipped to give her more access.  

Sophie could never spend enough time with her mouth and hands on Matthew. “You smell so good,” she purred, continuing her exploration onto his collar bone. 

The feeling of her mouth on him while her hands slowly slid down his back had him too entranced to respond with more than a grunt. 

She licked the divot between his clavicle and the round swell of his shoulder before cupping his rear to pull him flush to her body.

Fireworks popped and flashed between them as Matthew rocked his hips into her, desperate to soothe his aching lust. He wanted her so much. He’d wanted her when he parked the car, resigned to the fact that he would have to wait until the next morning. Now, she was against him with her beautiful body, wearing the sexiest pair of underwear he’d ever seen. He let his fingers trace the lace pattern at the edge and smiled when she shuddered. 

Her mouth continued its exploration, winding down his chest, pausing to flick her tongue over the nipple she had neglected. 

He moaned, eyes flaring wide when she lowered to her knees in front of him.

“I changed my mind.” 

Looking up, she traced a feather light touch from his belly button to the button of his pants and smiled when his muscles flexed and jumped.

“I'm going to blow you before you use that pretty mouth on me.”

He swore. This was a kind of torturous heaven where she was slowly driving him mad before giving him what he needed. He never wanted her to stop. 

Working the button of his pants, then the zipper torturously slow, she purred, “you're going to come in my mouth, okay, Matthew?”

His breathing hitched, his voice nearly cracking as he agreed, “yes, Sophie.” 

He rarely let her finish him that way. He loved her mouth, but past girlfriends hadn't liked it, so he tended to avoid the issue. Besides, given the choice, he would rather come inside her. He never would have guessed she missed it. 

Peeling his boxer briefs down, Sophie leaned into the alter ego she kept caged within her own thoughts. “Good boy,” she praised. 

 God, hearing that should not make him shiver with anticipation and pleasure as much as it did. He flushed at having pleased her.

As he stepped out of his pants, he wondered if she might let him sit down. It had been so long since he'd come in her mouth, he wasn't totally sure he'd stay upright, especially tonight. Before he could ask, she was running her hands over his legs. 

Sophie tsked. “These thighs,” she all but moaned reverently. Obligingly, the muscles in question flexed under her palms. 

Apparently, she was letting everything she'd ever fantasized about bubble up to the surface as if her propriety had sloughed off along with her lingerie. 

The next thing he knew, she was licking his leg from the knee all the way up to the v line, which she kissed and tongued liberally. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. She'd never worshiped his body like this. He knew she found him attractive, but this was something totally different. It made his stomach clench and his head feel light.

Every brush of her tongue, every kiss from her lips made him twitch. She was so close to where he wanted her. Knowing she wanted him to come in her mouth made it worse until he was simmering and heady with impatience. 

She pulled away so slowly, he swore he could feel every millimeter of her lips lifting from him. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally getting her mouth. It melted into a whine when she passed over to begin the same torture on the other leg. He was so close to the pleasure she was promising, but she was holding off. 

“Please Sophie,” he begged. He would do anything to feel her.

“Since you asked so nicely,” she said, smiling up at him through her lashes as she guided him past her lips. 

He had to close his eyes to stop himself from exploding at the sight alone. 

She pulled off nearly as soon as she'd started, “do you like it, Matthew?”

He almost said something snarky, like, I would if I could feel it, but thought better of it. The Sophie in front of him was a different creature than usual, and he didn't want to upset her. He had no doubt she wouldn’t hesitate to punish him for his sass, and he couldn’t take that on top of everything else. 

Instead, he leaned into the shy, genuine part of himself. “Yes, Sophie.” 

Finally, she took him in her mouth, swallowing all she could comfortably fit and using her hand on the rest. 

Sinking his fingers into her hair, he tried to steady himself without leaning too much weight on her. 

“You feel so good.” 

With seven days away and twenty minutes of blissful torture built up in his system, he knew it wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge. Still, when the tell tale signs rushed in so soon, even he was surprised. He needed to tell her in case she changed her mind.

“Soph, ’m gonna come,” he said urgently.

Her mouth lifted off of him completely. “You’re such a good boy, Matthew,” she purred, slowly skimming her fingertips down his throbbing cock, “giving me what I want.” 

Eyes rolling back, he practically growled. He’d always wanted her to order him around but never imagined her praising him like this. He wanted more and more, again and again.

She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, and he moaned, thrusting softly into her mouth. 

His orgasm reared anew fast enough to give him whiplash. 

She hummed as she pulled him over the edge and the vibrations rippled through his body, making every muscle stutter. 

When she slid her mouth off him, she paused to make sure he was looking her in the face before she swallowed. 

"Holy shit." He stumbled back and sank onto the bed, legs losing the battle to stay upright. He'd hoped she would be a little more liberated, but this was beyond any of his expectations. "Fuck, Soph, that was so hot." 

Bringing him nearly to his knees with her mouth alone made her feel like she could do anything. It was just the confidence boost she needed. A feeling of immense self satisfaction filled her.

Crawling over to him, she used his knees for balance as she stood.

Matthew wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her stomach, needing to feel her close as he came down. 

"I love you," he said, mouth against her skin. It felt important to tell her. Not just because of the blow job - which, God, did he love her for - but because he loved all of her. He loved her for her willingness to fulfill this fantasy. It was so much better than anything he'd imagined. 

"I love you, too." 

She threaded her fingers into his curly hair and his eyes fluttered shut. 

Soaking in the tender moment, he let himself catch his breath before pressing kisses to her stomach. 

“I swear, I thought about eating you out every night I was gone.” 

“Really?" She sounded more surprised than he would like. 

He nodded, tongue darting over his lips as he looked up at her. “I love getting you off and I know you like oral best.”

“I mean…You don't mind the smell?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“Do you really think I would put myself through it so often if I didn't like it?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“I don't know,” she said with a shrug. “I thought maybe it was something you just put up with to get to the good part.”

“It's all the good part with you Soph.”

She chuffed a little laugh. 

“I love the way you taste. I crave it when I've been away too long.”

The way her cheeks flushed made him want to please her even more. 

"Are you ready to sit on my face?" he teased, assuming she found the phrase crass. 

Even while rolling her eyes, she nodded. 

The uncertain feelings that were nearly always stewing in her finally broke to the surface for the first time that night. "We don't have to do it that way."

"No," he reprimanded gently, flexing his grip so she couldn't pull away. "If this is something you want, you deserve to get it. I'm fine with it."

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, "you're sure?"

"Yes," he said fervently. "I want to make you feel good, and if this is how you want it, I want to do it for you."

"I just," she paused to sigh a breath through her nose. "I don't want to suffocate you or something."

He laughed. 

"I'm serious, Matthew."

"It'll be fine, Sophie."

"How do you know?"

"I've done it before, and it was fine." 

She looked unconvinced, and like she was about to argue another point he knew wouldn’t make any difference. He cut in before she could bring it up. "If it'll make you feel better, I can let you know if I can't breathe."

She pursed her lips, barely keeping in her worry about being bigger than any of the women he'd dated before. That would bring on a whole lecture about how it wasn't true, and her weight didn't matter to him - he just wanted her to be happy and healthy.

Most of the time, she was able to put off the comparison and agree with him, but this felt like a case where that factor should be taken into consideration. 

In the end, the thing that kept her quiet were memories of the sad, wounded, puppy look he got in his eyes when she talked disparagingly about her body. 

"It would make me feel better," she said instead. 

"Done." 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he started easing them down. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin and her nipples tightened. 

Letting the lace fall the rest of the way down, he licked one of the tender buds into his mouth. He lay back, pulling her with him. Her core was hot and wet against his thigh as she draped over him.

His hands and mouth on her, and his care and willingness to fulfill her fantasies had her outrageously turned on. She rutted against his thigh a few times in an attempt to pacify her lust.

He moaned, flexing the muscle on instinct. She gasped, deciding instantly that getting herself off on his thigh was definitely going onto her fantasy wishlist. 

For now, though, she couldn't be deterred from the opportunity at hand. She moved onto the bed and he scrambled up to lay his head on the pillows. 

He got comfortable before motioning her over. "Here," he said, voice husky, but gentle, "you can hold onto the headboard here."

Heat raced onto her cheeks. 

"Come on," he said, reaching for her. "It's been too long. I can't wait to taste you."

Letting him pull her into position, her heart was already pounding against her ribs as if it might try to break out of her chest. 

Matthew had dreamed of this before - Sophie, all lovely and lush above him while he worshiped her with his mouth. The reality of it was so much better than anything he had imagined. 

"You're so beautiful," he said, running his hands up and down her thighs. 

She blushed, but accepted the compliment, "thank you."

He continued to admire her, waiting until she was ready. 

"You promise you'll tell me if you can't breathe?"

"Yes, I promise," he assured. "I'll tap your hip like this."

She nodded. 

"Now, come here." 

Wrapping his large hands over her hips, he guided her to his mouth. The sound she let out when he made contact was music to his ears. 

It was so much better than she'd anticipated. Perhaps it was just the thrill of a fantasy becoming reality that had her nervous system in overdrive, but something about this - the position, the way his mouth worked on her clit and the way he huffed against her had her synapses snapping. 

As it turned out, she may have been right to worry. Not because of her imagined fear that she was bigger than other women he'd dated, but because Matthew was so competitively intense and wanted to make her come so badly, he would put off breathing until his body demanded oxygen. The reality that he couldn’t just tilt his head to pull in a quick breath hit him full force after a few minutes. 

Although he'd had no intention of using the signal, he tapped her hip twice when his lungs started to burn.

She lifted up, but he stopped her before she got more than an inch away. His tongue kept working, circling her sensitive bud, even as she felt him drag in heavy, deep breaths.

She shuddered as cool air pulled across her heated skin.

Pulling her back down, he latched his mouth back onto her, sucking and stroking. 

"Matthew."

He would never get over the way she moaned his name.

"Matthew, put your tongue inside me." 

Where had that come from? She'd read about it before, but never had any desire to feel it. She got off from clitoral stimulation, so what would that bring to the table? 

With the reality that was Matthew working his magic, and her newfound ability to call the shots, she found she needed his mouth in every way possible. 

He groaned and felt her shudder above him. He was never getting over this. He was never getting over her going after what she wanted. Never getting over experiencing her like this. 

A new wave of pleasure ripped through her when he shifted to accommodate her request. She didn’t think this could get any better. 

Sophie clung to the headboard. "That feels so good," she whined.

He kept thrusting his tongue into her, hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. She filled his senses completely, leaving no room for anything else, and he wouldn't have it any other way.  

"Oh!" she moaned loudly when he adjusted his angle slightly, bringing the straight bridge of his nose against her clit.

Fire whipped up her spine. "Right there! Don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop."

He was never stopping - not until she was satisfied a million times over. 

Head thrown back, she panted in rhythm with his ministrations. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. 

Her thighs trembled around him and he knew she was close. Putting off breathing for a bit longer, he continued urging her up the peak he knew she was so close to cresting. 

Mouth open, she tried to let him know she was coming. Instead, her body took over, letting out a keening noise she'd never heard herself make before. 

Her core fluttered around his tongue and Matthew moaned. He loved this part: the point when he knew he'd won over her body and pushed her over the edge into bliss. 

Forcing her hips up just enough, he sucked in a few deep breaths before wrapping his lips around her clit, flicking it with his tongue.  

Time tilted and her body felt weightless as her high rolled into another. 

“Oh my god.” 

He kept going, and she kept coming. One of her hands abandoned its post balancing on the headboard to fist into his curls. He groaned, just like she knew he would.

The first time he went down on her, he told her she could pull his hair if she wanted. She'd been so surprised at the way he had moaned into her, intensifying his efforts when she had. 

Easing off when pleasure started to bleed into pain, she lifted herself up. He licked his lips and pulled in some heavy breaths. 

Chest heaving, Sophie tried to swing her leg over so she could sit next to him. 

"One more," he moaned, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs to keep her over him. "Let me give you one more."

He hadn't prepared himself for that to be the last one. There was no way he could be done with this scenario. With her pleasure engulfing every one of his senses, he just couldn't be done. It was too intoxicating. 

"Please," he said as if he might die without it. 

Twist her arm, she couldn't resist. Matthew was the only man Sophie had ever been with who put so much emphasis on her pleasure, let alone enjoyed getting her off. 

As soon as she started lowering her hips back down, he leaned up and licked a thick stripe through her. 

Her legs quivered. "I'm -" she had to pause and take a deep breath, "Matt, I'm sensitive," she said, looking down at him. 

He winked and coaxed her with long, languid strokes of his tongue. Watching her face intently, he made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure to not cause pain. 

Her hips began to move of their own volition, seeking. 

"Oh, God," she breathed, "Matthew."

If he died right then, he thought, he would die a happy man. 

Come on, he urged silently, come for me. 

As if she were reading his mind, she let out a long, low moan, and trembled above him, core pulsing against his mouth.

He feasted on her, drinking in every movement, every sensation. He could never get enough of her pleasure. 

This time, when she went to move off of him, he helped her. 

She sat heavily against the headboard, gulping in air. "Oh my God." Reaching for him without looking, her hand landed on his chest with a gentle smack. "That was amazing.”

Covering her hand with his own, he entwined their fingers before wiping his face with his other hand. 

After catching her breath, she moved to lay beside him. "Seriously," she said, settling on her side, one arm bent under her head as a pillow, "that was…I don't even have words for how good that was." 

He blushed. "I'm glad you liked it." Her praise, bereft of any teasing, had him feeling shy. 

“Liked it?” she repeated, giggling. “That was the most intense high I’ve ever felt. I don't think I’ve ever come that many times in a row.” 

Pride swelled in his chest. He reached for her and pulled her on top of him. Threading his fingers into her hair, he guided her down to a kiss.

She could taste herself on his mouth, which was arousing in a way she always felt shouldn't be.

His big hands explored, leaving fiery trails on her skin. When he cupped her breasts, she arched against him with a groan. The overstimulation had dissipated and was replaced by a steadily increasing hum of pleasure. 

His mouth and hands ignited her desire again. How was it possible to want someone this much? She wanted him in ways she didn’t know she’d ever want a man again. 

"I want you to take me from behind," she said, lips whispering against his. 

Matthew pulled back into the pillow to look at her face. "Are you sure?"

A while after they started sleeping together, he asked her what she liked. "Any position we can be face to face,” she'd said. “Smith only wanted it from behind the last few months. Every time I would initiate, he'd end up flipping me over. It made me feel so, like… unpretty, you know? Like he couldn't even stand to look at me."

It had broken Matthew's heart. How could anyone not want to look at her? He wanted to look at her all the time. 

Because of that, he always made sure to initiate cowgirl, missionary or any other position where they could be face to face. He never wanted her to feel like he didn't want her. 

"Yes," she said, sitting up. "I know you'd never turn me around just to fantasize about someone else."

"Never," he agreed, emphatically. 

She'd never felt like this with a man before - so full to the brim with love and trust. "So, tonight, strictly for the sake pleasure, I want you to fuck me from behind."

This was another thing she never said, opting instead for sex or making love. She always said fucking was too vulgar of a word for what they were doing.

Hearing it from her mouth now woke a primal side of himself he hadn't felt since he was much younger. 

They never fucked, they made love. He didn't miss it, but the prospect of trying something new with her excited him beyond belief. 

“Where do you want me?”

The power humming beneath her skin shifted into a higher gear, giving her the jumpstart to move off of him. 

“On your knees,” she said. 

He obeyed, then watched, entranced, as she got into the position she wanted. On hands and knees, and then lowered to her forearms so her back sloped down. 

Turning her back to him felt so different than it had with Smith. There was nothing compromising about this with Matthew. She wasn’t embarrassed, or worried her face wasn’t pretty enough, or feeling like she was giving something up just to keep him close. 

“Okay,” she said. 

He moved behind her, skimming both hands up her legs and over the curvature of her sides like a priceless piece of art. He wanted to remember every second of this. 

The trust she felt for and from Matthew allowed her to be in her body more. She could feel the bed dip as he moved, feel the sheets brush against her pebbled nipples. Her skin buzzed with anticipation of his touch. She felt safe and giddy. When was the last time she’d ever felt giddy while on her knees? 

“Can you lift your hips a little more?” he asked, voice gentle.

She did and he bit his lip. He rarely fantasized about this. He preferred to see her face when they were together too, but this? This was a teenage wet dream come to life - made better with love, devotion and trust. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, stopping himself from running his fingers through her just so he could taste her sweet nectar again.

Sophie’s thoughts raced with possibilities - all the times she’d read about this - knowing Matthew would try anything she wanted at least once. 

“Slide over my clit,” she said.

A moan escaped his throat as he glided through her. He never would have done this on his own. Now, he never wanted to stop.

“How does it feel?” she asked. If she couldn’t see him, she needed him to tell her. 

“So good,” he grunted. “You’re so smooth.” 

She shifted her angle so the head of his cock brushed over her clit with each stroke. 

The fire in her belly raged into an inferno. 

“I need you inside me.”

He was going to die before the night was over. Hearing her say these things, hearing how much she wanted him, like she just couldn’t wait - he’d never wanted to please someone more in his entire life. 

Easing into her, he exhaled deeply, noting the way her back arched to change the angle of penetration. 

“Okay,” she said, gently pushing her hips back to give him permission to move. 

He started slow and soft, which was not at all what she wanted.

After a few slick thrusts, she told him what she did want, “harder.”

He picked up the pace, but it wasn't enough.

“Harder.”

Biting his lip, he increased again. 

She still wanted more. 

“Fuck me harder.” It came out more of a demand than a request. She was too caught up in the moment to feel bad about it.

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Goddamn. 

How was he supposed to just take this and not explode the second those orders came out of her mouth? 

“Matthew, please.”

Her begging shattered the controlled softness he usually restrained himself with. She wanted harder? He'd give her harder.

He snapped his hips to hers.

She cried out, back arching.

The sound of his skin meeting hers, the feeling of the sheets brushing her nipples as she was pitched forward, then pushed herself back, and his panting and grunting behind her made her feel feral in the best way, like she just wanted to swallow him whole. 

She pushed back to meet every thrust and he had to tip his head back. He wanted to wait. He had to.

Her entire body trembled with the need for release.

“Touch me,” she begged. She needed it so much, she felt like she might just set the whole house on fire. 

His left hand slid around her hip to stroke her. 

She moaned. It had never felt like this with Smith. This was… this was… this was a symphony. Every part working together to make something more beautiful than they could alone. 

That rhythm sustained her for a while before she was begging again, “more. Please give me more.” She was so, so close. 

Tenderly, he drummed two fingers on her clit, desperate to send her over the edge. 

Back bowing as pleasure streaked through her body, she shouted, “Fuck, Matthew! Yes!” 

There were a few delicious moments where Sophie was floating between being stretched to her limit and falling apart completely. 

The pressure finally exploded and her muscles locked around him.

Matthew gasped her name, right hand squeezing her hip to keep the tenuous grasp he had on his control. The idea he was clinging to helped him wait as he worked her through her orgasm. 

Joints blissfully liquefied, she collapsed onto her stomach.

Thankful for the break, he sat back on his haunches and took some time to steady himself as she came down. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked once her breathing slowed a bit. “I want to see your face when I come.”

Although she'd asked him to fuck her from behind, he knew she'd want to see him - to know she was the one making him feel this way. 

She was - and he needed her to know. 

Sophie nearly choked out a sob. Matthew, her sweet Matthew. He could be a pest, even to her when he wanted to tease, and especially when competition was involved, whether it be playing some silly game or the incessant need he had to win at everything: cleaning or chopping or the morning race to the bathroom. 

When it really counted, though, he was unfailingly polite and courteous and always looking out for her. 

The sheets briefly clung to her damp skin as she rolled over and looked up at him. His chest expanded and contracted rapidly with every panted breath. His skin was flushed, his curls tight with sweat. He was the most handsome thing she'd ever seen.  

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked, reaching up to cup his face. 

“Everything,” he said, nuzzling his stubbled jaw into her palm. Had he known this was coming, he would have shaved. “You're perfect for me, Sophie.”

She blinked a few times to make the tears she could feel behind her eyes stay there. 

“I love you,” she whispered.

He grinned. “I love you, too.”

When he entered her again, slowly, he didn't close his eyes, though his lids grew heavy. He didn't want to miss a single second of this. 

Sophie let out a little yelp of surprise when he flipped them over. 

“I want to watch you come on my cock,” he said, holding her hips. “That's the only thing I want from tonight.”

While she was supposed to be giving the orders, she was happy to comply with this request, even though she was sore from her previous orgasms. 

She adjusted to get the right angle, and let out a stuttered little moan when he caressed against her g spot. Apparently, the best way to find it was to orgasm five times in a row. 

It wasn’t long before she began to fatigue. They’d been going for so long already, and she wasn’t used to using her muscles in short bursts of energy over and over again like he was. 

Leaning forward, trying to find a comfortable position, she winced as her clit brushed his pelvis. Pain flared, and she backed off, thighs and hips protesting the movement.

“I know, Soph,” he said.

He didn’t know really, but he knew how sensitive he got after an orgasm. If she was feeling anything like that, he definitely needed to make a change. 

Leaning back would probably be the most comfortable position for her. He straightened his knees a little more and guided her to recline against his legs. 

Sophie sighed contentedly, feeling the pain ebb off and pleasure start to thrum through her again. She swayed her hips from side to side, “so good, Matthew.” 

A small thrill zinged through him. He let out a relieved sigh and began rocking into her. 

She moaned and threw her head back, exposing the long column of her throat. It was exactly what he’d wanted.

This was a more gentle high than the one she’d just crested. It built up slowly, making her whole body feel warm and sated. 

By the time her orgasm did come, she was relaxed with the pleasure of it, glad her pelvic muscles did their work on their own. She was too blissed to direct any traffic. 

Matthew moaned when she constricted around him. It was such a stark contrast to the soft feel of them rocking together. That sudden shift sent him over the edge - spilling into her with his hands on her hips and her name on his tongue. 

Sophie slumped against Matthew's legs, gulping air. “Oh my God,” she said. 

“Yeah.”

She knew she should get up to use the bathroom, but was too exhausted to move. 

Finally, it became more uncomfortable to keep the position she was in than it would be to get out of it. 

Matthew's eyes flew open when she lifted up. He caught the wince that flashed across her face and his hands flew to help her. 

“Thanks,” she said, sliding off the edge of the bed with wobbly legs. 

Sophie's hips may as well have been made of jello as she stumbled to the bathroom. She felt stretched in ways she hadn't in a long time. It wasn’t totally unpleasant, but it was new.

When she opened the door, she found Matthew on the other side, looking down at her with concern in his blue eyes. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm just a bit sore.” She gave him a cheeky smile and a wink, “we haven't gone that many rounds in a night since Tahiti.” 

He laughed, but felt it was a shame they hadn't done that for more than six months. The season was taking too much of a toll. 

“Do you want to take a bath? That'll help with some of the soreness.”

“I'd like that.”

He handed her the robe she'd been wearing and started the tap on the large tub. 

As it filled, he lifted her onto the counter. “I'm sorry we haven't done that more,” he said. “I've been gone too much.”

“You don't need to apologize, Matthew. You're always present when you're home and I haven't felt neglected.” 

“How are you so understanding?” he asked. 

“I'm in this relationship too. I see how hard you work, and I know you see how hard I work. Plus, I don't need five orgasms a night to feel loved. You know that.” She paused before thoughtfully adding, “I don't think I'd survive.” 

He laughed, feeling, not for the first time, that this was his favorite thing about Sophie. She was beautiful and funny and sweet, but her willingness to understand his life and meet him halfway meant more than all that. 

“I saw you had the day off tomorrow, so I moved my meetings so we could spend the day together. And I just kept thinking I had enough time that I could fulfill your fantasy tonight.”

“I still can't believe you did that.” He said, bending down to rest his forehead on her shoulder, “when you bent over to take off your shoes, I swear I almost came in my pants.” 

“That sound you made was straight out of a porno.”

Straightening to look into her face, one eyebrow raised, he asked, “how would you know?”

“I don't live under a rock,” she teased, shoving his shoulder. 

He laughed, and a moment passed where Sophie admired him. 

“So it was okay?” she asked.

Matthew had to bite his cheek to keep from teasing her about possibly being deaf and blind. “You couldn't tell?”

“I mean, I could but I just wanted to be sure you got everything you wanted.”

He tipped her chin up to meet her gaze, “Soph, you know our sex life wasn't lacking before, right? This was just icing on the cake.” 

The unsure smile she gave him twisted his heart. “Have you been walking around for the past month thinking that I’ve been unsatisfied?” 

“No, not really. I know you like what we have, I just started to worry. Like, do you want me to be more aggressive in the bedroom all the time?” 

“Aggressive?” he repeated, “no. But I wouldn’t mind you telling me what you want more often. Like sliding over your clit? I never would have done that on my own, and we both really liked it.” 

She nodded, “I’m just so…” she took a deep breath. “With Smith, it always seemed I was lacking in something, you know?” 

If Matthew ever met Smith, he was going to punch him right in the face for hurting Sophie the way he did. She hadn’t even been able to end it on her terms. When she’d tried, he announced he was seeing someone else before she could get all the words out.

After they broke up, it took Matthew four months to convince her he was a good enough guy for her to even consider the idea they could be more than friends. 

He shut off the water before turning back to cup her cheeks, “Soph, I love you, and I love what we have. I’m sorry Smith hurt you, but I’m not him.”

“I know that,” she sniffed and slid off the counter.

Gathering her against him, kissing her hair, he murmured, “I love you, Sophie. You know I’ll tell you if I need something. Can you trust that if I don’t things are good?”

Matthew couldn’t be farther from Smith. Sometimes, she wondered how exactly she’d ended up in this relationship with a man that was so perfect for her. 

“Yeah,” she said into his neck. 

“Good.” 

He gently pushed the robe off. His heart still beat a little faster at her exposed skin, despite what they had just been doing. “You ready for that bath?” 

“You’re not coming?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

She nodded.

He scrambled out of his boxers and climbed into the tub before reaching for her so she could sit between his legs. 

Leaning back on him, she sighed contentedly. 

“I love you, Matthew,” she said, one hand raising to thread her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck, “I'm so glad we found each other.” 

Letting the tips of his fingers trace memories on her skin, he recalled all the times he’d touched her. 

“I love you too, Sophie,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to bring her even closer - to shut out the world and everything that had or could hurt her. “You bring so much joy into my life and I don't want to do any part of it without you.” 

Deciding to trust what he said was true, she relaxed into him, letting the warm water soak away her pain until nothing more than a pleasant ache between her thighs remained. 

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

The Sleepy Kitten Cafe- Main Staff

They arent even in the chapter yet- but I love them and I couldnt wait to share them (I fucked up so many things in this piece but I refused to redo, also ill give them better outfits LATER)

Gwen Parkins- She/Her (Main Barista) Loves Chai and all things Lemon. Hates tight clothes so 90% of her wardrobe is flowy shirts and wild patterned skirts that somehow don't clash. Once snuck a raccoon into the cafe after losing her contacts and mistaking it for a stray cat. Zeek (Ezekial) Zorof- He/They (Cook/Self appointed Security) Go to shift drink is an actual sugar nightmare coffee thats smothered in whip cream and caramel, loves mint and curses god everyday that hes allergic (doesn't stop him). Owns a tattoo gun, has used it, refuses to show the tattoos. Once tried to gaslit his manager to keep a feral raccoon after his coworker mistook it for a stray cat. Obsidian Fowler- They/Them (Sub Barista and Manager) (Their parents own the shop) Drinks either Fruity teas or a 7 shot espresso drink that tastes like utter despair (you can tell their mood by their drink order) also very fond of chocolate. Got roped into the family buisness and is now convinced the place will burn if they take more than a few days off. Once had to deal with being gaslit that what was very obviously a raccoon was actually just a very round and weird patterned cat.

Fic link + Summary below

Summary on A03-

Tim Drake died at seventeen, his family long broken beyond repair. A Cuckoo finally rid from the nest.

But when he wakes up in his time, but now just a year after the Graysons death and appearance of the first Robin. Tim wouldnt let his family suffer again, even if it meant he couldnt join them.

Bruce Wayne is not "Brucie Wayne" Tim Drake is not "Timothy Drake"

They are both personas, a front to prevent people from looking at whats really under the surface. But sooner or later Tim should have known Gotham being a city of secrets, nothing stays buried forever. Especially not when the bats get involved with their trashy next door neighbor whose behavior seems more and more contriditory.

Tim had saved them all more times than he could count, maybe this time they could return the favor.