#Voice-Controlled Cocktails

[drinkinlovecom]

Shake Up Your Home Bar

Shake Up Your Home Bar

Discover the Exciting Future of Home Bartending The future of home bartending is bright, as more and more people are turning to this as a way to entertain friends and family in the comfort of their own homes. As technology continues to evolve, so do the tools and techniques used in home bartending. From automated cocktail machines to smartphone apps, home bartenders have access to a wide range…

[ramp-it-up]

Anatomy of a Kiss

Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?

Word count: 4.2 K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.

A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️

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

-----

The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.

Because now he was never going to get you out of his system. 

—--

You were celebrating.

Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.

And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.

It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime. 

Until you heard his voice.

“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.

Because you weren’t stupid. 

Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.

“What about the penthouse? You kept that.”

Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.

“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”

You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not so old.”

You were in full blown argument mode.

“He’s over 70.”

“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”

“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”

You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.

Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.

“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”

He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.

“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”

That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.

Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.

“I dare you, Princess.”

—-----

After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.

Logan followed you.

“Princess–”

The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room. 

He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.

—-

On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months? 

You were slipping. Bad.

You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss. 

You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his. 

You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”

You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.

—

Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

And that pissed him off.

He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.

He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast. 

But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.

You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.

And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.

Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.

“Oh, Fuck all!”

He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him. 

But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?

—---

Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.

Right?

You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.

You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.

You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs. 

And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.

That would be asinine.

And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal. 

The mouth that felt nice against yours. 

That might feel nice against your…

You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.

What the fuck had you done?

— 

Logan didn’t even like you.

You were bossy, irritating, loud. 

Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home. 

He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most. 

More people to watch.

He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons. 

You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.

The more he glared, the more you glowed. 

On fucking purpose.

The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying. 

Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.

He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.

It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.

Except when his tongue was in your mouth.

No. 

Even then, you made noises. 

Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…

Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him. 

He really did not like you.

—--

Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin. 

You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.

You could forget this.

Pretend it never happened.

Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.

You could forget.

It was fine.

Everything was just fucking fine. 

All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy. 

Except you were wet as fuck. 

“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt. 

She didn't care. 

Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”

You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.

It didn’t work.

—-

Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.

Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.

When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.

But there was your mouth again.

“I fucking hate you.”

The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.

When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.

You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt. 

He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.

Then you slapped him again.

“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”

He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer. 

“Or is it frustration?”

——

You were in trouble now.

Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.

Just the opposite.

Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.

He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.

The words came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”

You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.

Logan grunted at you.

“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”

Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.

Yet you wanted it so badly.

——

Logan couldn’t wait any more.

He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.

His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.

That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.

He had to know.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

——

His sexy whisper would do you in.

For good.

“I don’t know.”

Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.

Logan was so hard beneath you.

“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”

Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.

“Stop yapping and just do it already.”

——-

“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.

“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.” 

Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked. 

Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.

You were not going to win this round.

——

You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?

One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen. 

“What are you here for, Princess?”

That question again.

That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook. 

Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him. 

The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.

You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.

——

Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.

Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.

“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.” 

Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.

“I’m here for you.”

You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.

“Touch me, Logan.”

Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces. 

“Fuck!”

You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.

——-

“I’m touching you, now what?”

He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.

You had something for him.

“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”

You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face. 

——

Now he was the one who was angry.

Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.

“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”

His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.

———

Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. 

You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.

“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”

Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.

Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished. 

You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.

As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.

——-

Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.

He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”

He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.

You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.

“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.

Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.

“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”

He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.

Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.

——

You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.

Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.

You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate. 

With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.

“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”

The question was, were you just talking about his penis?

——-

You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.

“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”

Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.

—-

His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you. 

“Y-yess, feels so good.” 

You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.

You whispered a confession into his ear.

“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.” 

Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise. 

“You’ve dreamt about me?” 

You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy. 

“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”

Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.

“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.

“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”

And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.

You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.

——

At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.

Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.

“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”

His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.

He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.

He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.

“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”

And he slid back home.

“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”

Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.

“Keep it open and do what I say.”

——-

The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.

“Swallow.”

You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.

He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.

That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.

“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”

——

Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.

He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.

“Look at me.”

That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.

“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”

“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”

——

Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.

You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.

It was so satisfying.

And you couldn’t let it lie.

——

He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.

“What? You tired, Old Man?”

He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.

Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.

He was never going to get you out of his system.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

-----

You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.

“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.

——

Reblog if you enjoyed it! 🥰

[harryspet]

well kept [4] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON/NONCON, corporal punishment, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: longest chapter yayyyy :):)

word count: 4.9k

In which Rafe's control pushes you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

well kept masterlist

Rafe Cameron could handle his liquor, you learned that quickly. After accompanying him to a few dinner parties and watching him down several shots of whiskey before finishing an entire pitcher of beer, you wondered how he maintained his physique. He never slurred his words or stumbled, he seemed entirely happier when he was drinking, a completely different person. 

He’d forced you to drink a cocktail and that quickly made you feel wobbly. The nights were a blur of conversations and you were tethered to reality by the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your lower back. He never introduced you as his assistant to his rich friends. You were just Y/N. “She’s cute, yeah?” He would say to people. Usually your dress was way too short or your cleavage was spilling from your top.  Unfortunately, you sipped your drink when you were nervous.

You were exhausted by the end of the night and a little tipsy though you hadn’t dared to drink nearly as much as he did. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home,” He’d said, hand on your waist as he guided you out of the restaurant. Sometimes it made you feel protected. Like Rafe could hurt you, sure, but at least no one else could. 

“Should you be driving?” You’d mistakenly asked, words slipping out before you could stop them. He took it as a challenge to his manhood and the look on his face made you regret it. 

“I’m fine,” He’d looked at you sharply before he commanded, “Get in the fucking car.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer and let him him help you into the passenger side of his truck. He kept his eyes focused on the road, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, and you hoped he wasn’t angry, maybe just deep in thought. 

When he pulled up to your apartment complex, you fumbled for the door handle, eager to escape the tension. But before you could step out, Rafe’s hand was on your arm.

“I’m coming up,” he stated firmly.

“It’s a weeknight,” you said, trying to find a reason that would convince him otherwise. “My roommates are probably asleep by now.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “I’ll be quiet,” a hint of his boozed up charm returned to his voice. Reluctantly, you led him upstairs.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find your roommates, Imani and Angel, still awake, standing in the kitchen with a bottle of wine between them. Their laughter filled the small apartment. Their expressions shifted to complete shock at the sight of Rafe behind you. You smiled, trying to give the impression that all was well, that it was completely normal to be returning to your apartment with your drunk, billionaire boss. 

Imani, with her flawless olive complexion and neatly styled curls, scrutinized the scene with furrowed brows. Beside her, Angel stood tall and vibrant, her unruly tight curls escaping their single hair tie, her mouth agape in astonished silence as she stared at you. Both much more beautiful than you, a sad thought crossed your mind, and you worried for a short millisecond that Rafe would realize he’d made a mistake in picking you. 

“Hey,” You did you best to sound casual, “Rafe, this is Imani and Angel. Imani, Angel, this is Rafe.”

“Your boss, Rafe?” Imani asked incredulousy, her arms crossing over her faded band tee. “I don’t understand-”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” Angel blurted out, practically bouncing on her bare feet, “Can I offer you a drink? We both had a shitty day so we whipped out the strawberry moscato.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. And thanks, tempting offer but I’m quite satisfied at the moment,” His voice was smooth and effortlessly disarming. He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you into him, and your eyes widened, “I’m just here to make sure Y/N gets a good night’s rest.”

Both Imani and Angel looked at you with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Imani’s eyes, in particular, were sharp and disapproving, clearly questioning how you had kept this from her. Her gaze was heavy with the unspoken question: How could you be involved with Rafe and not have told her?

“Make yourself at home,” Angel said, clearly more excited than angry, and Imani’s intense gaze snapped to her, “I’m about to make popcorn and we’re about to watch a movie if you guys-”

“Angel,” Imani whispered harshly, “Leave them alone.”

“I’m j-j-just gonna, uhm, goodnight, guys,” You took Rafe’s arm and led him away from the tension filled kitchen to the narrow hallway that led to your bedroom. You felt he weight of Imani’s disapproval lingering in the air. 

Your small apartment that you shared with two other people was a stark contrast to the luxurious settings you’d been in over the last few weeks. As Rafe’s eyes wandered over your tiny room, the awkwardness of the situation continued to build. 

“This is …cozy,” He said after you shut the door. He was already taking off his suit jacket and undoing his cuff links. Was Rafe Cameron really going to spend the night here with you? Maybe he was drunker than you thought.  “So this is where you unwind after a long day of dealing with me?” 

Was that humor you heard in his voice? Dealing with him. You more than dealt with Rafe Cameron. You practically let him walk you around on a leash. 

“Do you feel bad for me yet?” You tried to joke but there was too much animosity in your tone. 

He chuckled before starting to undo his belt, “I try not to feel bad for other people. Life’s easier that way. Sides’, this won’t be your life for much longer.”

As he stripped down to his underwear, he started to settle into your bed, the lines between your professional and personal worlds now blurrier than ever. 

“I wasn’t expecting t-t-t-t … to have company tonight,” You said, gathering his pile of clothes from your carpet and doing your best to fold them and place them neatly on top of your dresser. 

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” He winked as he folded his arms behind his head, and you had to avert your eyes from his statue-esque physique. Broad shoulders, thick arms and chest, and abs that acted like an arrow that pointed down to his … “Plus, I wanted to see where you lived.”

“Now you see I d-d-don’t have sss-space for all my new work outfits,” You started to undress now, realizing there was no way out of this long night except by sleeping. You kicked off your heels, placing them neatly at the bottom of your closet. You put an oversized t-shirt on and used it to cover your body as you slipped off your mini-dress. 

“Yeah, I see that now. It’s like a shoebox in here,” You shot him an offended look and he smiled stupidly, “It’s cute.”

“You sss-say that word a lot,” You mumbled before finding a pair of fuzzy socks and taking a seat at the very edge of your bed, bending over to slip them on. 

“C’mere,” he patted the spot next to him and you hesitated. 

He wouldn’t, you thought, not while your roommates were on the other side of a paper thin wall. But he would, you remember, Rafe Cameron would do that. He already had the gall to walk into your apartment with his hand on your waist despite being the one who paid your salary. He would do it and you’d let him because you had no spine. 

“Y/N?” You pinched your eyes shut for a brief moment before you inevitable crawled into the spot next to him. You’d never really laid next to him in bed and it wasn’t what you were expecting. Even on his side, laying down, his presence enveloped you. You felt small like you usually did. He easily pressed himself to you, impossibly strong arms pulling your fronts together. 

“You hhh-have to be quiet,” You whispered. 

“I’m not the loud one,” He chuckled, warm breath tickling your shoulder and making you shiver. He placed a kiss there, one arm wrapped around your back and pulling you closer while the other tickled over the skin on your bare thigh, “I could fuck you so slow, so gentle, and I’m sure you’d be screaming.”

“No,” You argued though you weren’t sure why. 

“No? You think you could stay quiet?” A excruciatingly soft and wet kiss was placed on your collarbone. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, “I’m sss-sserious, Rafe.”

“So informal,” He shook his head, the hand that was on your thigh started to peel up your shirt. To your surprise, Rafe ducked inside the fabric of your shirt, beginning to burrow his head into your breast, “My fucking favorite place on your cute, little body.”

He seemed to groan, something animalistic, placing kisses along your skin. His breath tickled your nipples and you tried to pull away. He flips you fully onto your back, pinning you with his weight, his mouth threatening to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You couldn’t take it, “Okay, okay, y-yess,” You rushed out, “I c-couldn’t stay quiet. You’re right.”

You look down to watch him pop his head out from under your shirt, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I-I admit it. Please.”

“Please stop? Please fuck you quietly?” Rafe teased you, “You’re not adding sir to the end of your sentences so it gets kinda hard to understand–”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” You pleaded with him through your eyes, “Please …fuck me quietly, Sir.”

“That’s better,” He pulled your shirt over your breasts before he completely devoured them. 

The next time Rafe decided to have sex with you was two weeks later, right as he walked into his office. You should’ve known by the outfit he had chosen for you. The white blouse had an air of professionalism, but the plaid, pleated skirt barely reached mid-thigh, making you certain the entire elevator caught a glimpse of your underwear when you dropped your notebook that morning.

It felt like he’d been teasing you up until that point. You'd lost track of how many times he made you orgasm in front of him during those two weeks. He had an insatiable fascination with watching you pleasure yourself, wanting you completely vulnerable, often in compromising positions, with your eyes locked on his the moment it happened. Whether it was on top of his desk, against the office window, or bent over a coffee table, you were starting to grow comfortable with being uncomfortable.

He couldn’t resist touching you, making you grind against him, or rapidly moving his fingers in and out of you until you were shaking. However, he had managed up until that point to not actually fuck you. It was getting to the point you found yourself pouting at him from your desk as you watched him complete his daily meetings. 

You didn’t have a chance to get out your usual spiel about his meetings for the day because his briefcase was already on the ground, and his arms were wrapped around your backside as he carried you over to his desk, “Take off your panties,” He commanded after setting you on his desk. He stepped back, fumbling with his belt and zipper, “Now, sweetheart. C’mon.” He said and you realized you clearly weren’t moving fast enough for him. 

Your panties weren’t even around your knees before he was lifting up your legs and pulling them off the rest of the way. He parted your legs, immediately dipping his fingers into you, “You’re already wet,” It was just an observance. No smile or smirk or evidence that he was at all pleased with the revelation, “Desperate little girl. You been thinking about me, yeah?”

You stared up at his lips, pink and parted and imagined them on yours, his soft stubble tickling the skin of your mouth. Why wasn’t he kissing you? Everything with him was a ritual. You couldn’t get what you wanted until you felt utterly humiliated and vulnerable. He couldn’t get what he wanted until you had tears in your eyes. You nodded, “Yes.”

“Fucking say it,” He barked and you winced. 

“I’ve b-b-been th-thhhinking about you,” You admitted although he already knew it. Your own well being seemed to rely on being obsessed with him. If you wanted any sexual satisfaction, he was the one who brought it. He was the entire reason you had a good income now. He was everything. 

“You haven’t touched yourself though, not without my permission?”

You nodded, “Nnn-not without your permission.”

“Cause you need me,” He finally placed his lips on yours and you nodded against them. 

“I nnn-need you,” You mewled between kisses as he pressed his crotch into yours. The two of you both tilted back towards his desk, “Please, Sir.”

You had consented, despite not being fully prepared. It didn’t feel like the first or second time. The first time had been overwhelming, your orgasms crashing over you like a storm, while the second time had been so gentle that the pleasure left you feeling like you were vibrating with ecstasy. You wanted him, undeniably, but nothing had prepared you for the intensity of him filling you completely. This was what you had desirel, feeling full, but now you were overwhelmed, as though he was consuming every part of you.

With his hands braced on either side of your head, he looked down at you, his gaze intense and focused. He moved inside you with a relentless, unyielding rhythm, driving into you with an insatiable need.

The room faded away around you. You couldn’t feel yourself breathing nor could you hear the sounds leaving your mind. You just stared back, your face a mix of anguish and pleasure, and accepted your fate. You didn’t fight your orgasm this time, your body moved instinctively, squeezing around him, your hips grinding up for more friction. 

When he was close, he pulled out of you. Your energy was already gone, your orgasm having taken almost everything from you, but he moved your body effortlessly. He pulled you off the desk before placing you on your knees in front of you. Your legs folded easily, weakly, “Fuck,” He cursed, pantting, and you watched him take his cock in his own hand. 

You reached out to take ahold of him but he pushed your hand away. His hands moved, determined, rhythmic, “Ask me to cum on your face.”

His breaths were heavy, desperate, and he clung to that control that had slipped away when he was inside you. 

“Will y-you cum on my face, Sir?” 

The question hung in the air, tension thickening, until he was finally gritting his teeth. He broke eye contact only as his orgasm ripped through him. The room filled with his moans and you did your best not overreact to that warm, sticky feeling that was now violating your senses. 

“Good girl, look at you,” He said and you squeezed your eyes tightly as it began to drip onto your eyelid. 

You breathed deeply, the intensity of the moment deciding to peak, and tears started to spill over. You became a crumpled pile of pleasure, shame and exhaustion. It seemed like the only way to release your emotions. Unexpectedly, you didn’t sit their alone. Rafe was the one to wipe your face with a tissue. He cooed, “Hey, you did good, kid. You’re a good girl,” He whispered sweet nothings to you. 

“C-C-Can you hold me?” You asked, voice trembling, so embarrassed that you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to see how he was feeling or know what he was thinking. It was all too much.

Without a word, Rafe lifted you effortlessly into his arms. His strength was both reassuring and overwhelming as he carried you behind his desk, his body warm and solid against yours. He settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap with a sense of protective intimacy. For the rest of the morning, he worked with you nestled against him, your face buried into his neck. 

Rafe Cameron’s Appalachian cabin was one of the twelve properties he owned personally. You got to it by passing though a quaint and charming town. Despite the fact that he normally spends only three weekends of the entire year there, all the locals know him. 

The four of you; Rafe, you, Eleanor and Topper, made your way down main street which was lined with old-fashioned storefronts. In the middle was the town square which featured an old, courthouse building and a gazebo where you see a few locals gathering. The four of you enjoy a diner meal at the Blue Ridge Breakfast Bar before you walk through a few shops. It almost feels .. normal. You were surprised the three of them were even willing to walk through the antique buildings, let alone find the shops interesting. 

You didn’t know people like them even ate at diners or were interested in antique trinkets that cost less then five dollars. It was surreal. In another life, the three of them were normal people, and maybe you and Rafe could have been a normal couple. 

You often found yourself glancing at Rafe, marveling at the contrast between his usual, impeccably dressed self and the more relaxed look he wore today. Seeing him in jeans and a baseball cap, casually strolling through the town, was almost disorienting. 

It was a similar feeling you got when Rafe suddenly flipped a switch after being cruel to you and decided to comfort you. 

Despite the fact that he was technically on vacation, you were still his personal assistant, and yet he hadn’t asked you about anything related to assisting him since he picked you up that morning from your apartment. 

You wouldn’t say it to him, partially out of fear that he would deny it, but it felt like he wanted you appear like a couple. Topper and Eleanor undoubtedly new the truth so why was he acting like this? You never held hands like them but his hand would find your knee when you sat next to each other and sometimes he wrapped around your shoulder when you were standing close by. 

Sometimes, your body didn’t want to relax around him, and the intimacy brought you anxiety. Soemtimes he was easier to read when he was drunk, or inside of you, or yelling at you. You weren’t familiar with this version of him. But you were stuck with the three of them for the next three nights. 

Surrounded by towering pines and the soft hush of nature, the cabin was more of fortress nestled into the natural beauty of the mountains. You followed Rafe across a gravel path towards a large front porch which was framed by sturdy wooden columns. You stared up at large windows that endorned the front of the house, undoubtedly letting in a large amount of natural light, as you walked through the entrance. 

The house was a complete reflection of his taste and the extent of his success. As Topper and Rafe left for the bedroom to drop off luggage, you and Eleanor made your way to the kitchen with the bags of groceries you’d acquired from the local mini-mart. Surprisingly, this place didn’t come with it’s own personal chef. 

Like with everything else, you followed Eleanor’s lead when it came to cooking that weekend. She encouraged you to get ingredients for a dish you knew you could make on your own and you chose spaghetti despite the idea of feeding billionaire Rafe Cameron your homemade spaghetti making you feel stupid. 

“I’ll show you how to arrange a charcuterie board,” She said as she poured you a glass of red wine, “You’ll be the perfect housewife when I’m done with you, Y/N.”

The afternoon actually ended up being fun. You and Eleanor laughed in the kitchen while Rafe and Topper watched a football game in the living room, nursing cans of beer. The wine relaxed you and soon you were giggling over unevenly cut salami and spilled strawberry jam. The two of you ended up eating half the ingredients meant for the board, much to Eleanor’s amusement.

Eleanor loosened up even more, even getting comfortable enough to tell you a story about Topper, “You know, one time back when we lived in Kildare, he tried to make me pancakes for my birthday. From the box, not even from scratch, and he burnt every one. Literally every single one. The kitchen looked like it had been through a tornado. I don’t know how he even managed that.”

You covered your mouth, shaking your head, “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“He went through the whole box! He had to serve them to me like that. No amount of syrup and whip cream can mask that taste.”

“I didn’t realize we were telling personal stories,” You whipped your head around as you heard Topper’s voice. Your heart raced for a second, worried, but he made his way around the kitchen island and hugged his wife from behind. Rafe was following behind him but made his way over to you. You composed yourself as much as possible. 

“I was telling Y/N about how good of a cook you are,” She joked and he playfully tickled her sides and soon they were laughing together. 

The two male’s casual demeanors seemed to complement the laid-back energy of the afternoon. You watched Rafe’s lips pull into a smirk as he surveyed your work and your empty glass of wine. 

Dinner rolled around a few hours later, a relaxed atmosphere continuing to permeate through the air. You’d set the table in the dining room, the ten-person table sat next to a large window overlooking an expansive lake, and aided Eleanor in preparing her beef stir-fry. 

“It’s really good, Eleanor,” You complimented her once all of you were seated and digging into your food. 

“Thanks,” She grinned, “You’re a good sous chef, Y/N.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “Not better than me though, right, honey?” Topper asked. 

“Of course not, honey,” Eleanor winked at him. 

Small talk ensued and despite the fact that Eleanor warned the two men that business talk would bring down the room, they spent a good ten minutes talking about something called “tax increment financing”. 

Eleanor interrupted after it became too much, “So, Rafe, are you going to do any more renovations on this place?”

“After they finish the pool next summer, no. Did the home theatre, renovated the master bathroom and expanded the garage this summer. It’ll probably be move-in-ready next year.”

“Oh, are you selling it?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Rafe’s gaze flickered away, an unusual reaction for him. He usually had a quip or a witty retort ready. “No, I plan to spend more time away from Charlotte after New Year's. I’ll be living here at least five days a week.”

“Oh,” You nodded though you really hadn’t comprehended his words. You looked back down at your plate, and as you took another bite, his words started to set in. It was an inappropriate time to delve further but your mind started to race. He’d never mentioned that he wouldn’t even be living in Charlotte after the next few months. Shouldn’t he have mentioned this by now? “I-I thought …”

“We can talk about it later, Y/N,” Rafe dismissed you, bringing a piece of meat to his mouth, and looking away. 

He spoke as if you were annoying him now. Eleanor opened her mouth again to change the subject but you interrupted her, “I-I’m sorry … w-will you still need me then? If I’m in Chhhh-Charlotte and you’re here.”

“Did you hear me the first time, Y/N?” Rafe’s jaw set as he dropped his silverware. The clang made you jump but your mind was spinning. It was a simple question, wasn’t it? Was he stringing you a long? Would you be out of a job next year? 

“I-It p-p-p-pertains to me,” You continued, your heart racing as Rafe grimaced, “Can’t y-you just say if I’ll have a job or not?”

“You’ll have a job,” Getting confirmation made your shoulders drop from relief. It was almost worth whatever seed of rage you’d planted within him, “But you’ll relocate with me.”

“What?” You pushed your plate away, leaning back in your chair. 

Topper and Eleanor exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the escalating tension. It felt like you’d already poked the bull, you felt like you had to see it through,  “I’ll need you to move here. Won’t make sense to juggle from two places.”

“Mmm-my life is i-in Chhh-Charlotte. You n-never said this before,” You tried to keep your voice steady, to express your genuine disappointment despite your frustration. 

“It’s not my fault you haven’t caught on, Y/N,” He spoke sharply, “You know how this works. I manage my properties and business. My plans change. You’re a part of that. You’re making it an issue when it’s not. You’re acting like you have a million options.”

“I-I know I don’t–”

You looked at Topper and then Eleanor. Now, the two of them were looking anywhere but the two of you. 

“Then act like it.”

“Rafe–”

“I fucking own you, you don’t even understand that.”

“Rafe!”

“One more word, Y/N, and I swear to God.”

Your lips parted and your voice started to tremble as you felt the sting of his words, “This is so … shitty,” Perhaps it was the distance, the wood table that sat between you that made you feel so bold.

Rafe’s anger erupted, his face reddening as he slammed his hands on the table. “Boo-fucking-hoo, sweetheart! I’ve given you everything, the clothes on your back, keeping the lights on in your crappy apartment, and you’re still ungrateful?”

Your frustration reached its breaking point. “Fuck you, Rafe!” you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want it anymore!”

You pushed your chair back abruptly, no goal in mind for where you’d stomp off to but you felt your blood boiling. Was his entire goal to completely ruin your life? 

“Y/N!” He called after you and you turned your head to realize how close he was on your tail.  Adrenaline surged through you, the thought that you might never have control of your life left you close to completely spiraling. Determined to get away, you picked up your pace, practically running through the million-dollar home, over shiny waxed floors, moonlight shining through tall windows. 

He barked your name again and before you could reach the front door, his hand shot out and seized your upper arm. You screamed, his fingers squeezing your flesh so hard that you thought your skin might break. Swinging your body around, your feet lifted off the ground as he through you over his strong shoulder. 

Kicking, struggling, screaming and crying, Rafe carried you up a grand staircase, “Please,” You were begging but adrenaline was pumping though him too, making him moved with his own determination. He kicked open door and your head whipped as he stepped inside, slamming it closed. You couldn’t focus on any detail in the room but as he through you onto an expansive bed, you assumed it was the master bedroom. For a moment, you played a game of cat and mouse. You gained your balance, and tried to crawl off the bed. Every direction you went, he moved faster, until you were sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed. 

“You need to understand your place,” You watched as he started to loose the brown belt looped into his blue jeans. 

You shook your head frantically, “I don’t w-want this.”

“It will be easier if you just apologize,” Rafe let out a breath of air, a weary sigh, his face frustrated, “I promise, I’ll make it easier for you.”

“If I-I …w-will you use the belt?”

“I have to use the belt, sweetheart, you’ve been so bad. Tell you what, if you apologize, I won’t tie you down to the bed. How’s that sound?” 

The offer was as chilling as it was manipulative. You shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize.

The process of what followed was both brutal and dehumanizing. You were left feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body laid bare and handcuffed to one of the posts of the canopy bed. The sting of the belt on your skin was relentless, each strike leaving a deep, aching mark that quickly turned to a disturbing shade of purple. Your apologies came out in frantic, broken pleas, but they seemed to come too late.

You even managed to ask him to hold you but he didn’t grant your wish that time. He left you to go back downstairs. You slid down to your knees when you couldn’t stand any longer, falling asleep in that position, head resting at a strange angle against the mattress. 

When you next awoke, the light of morning was gently filtering through the curtains. Rafe’s arms were wrapped around you, his steady breathing and soft snoring a stark contrast to the harshness of the previous night. His nose pressed into your hair, a reminder of his physical presence.

You cried softly against him, the tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to him. The sounds were muffled against his chest as you hugged him tighter.

hope you enjoyed!!

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Silent treatment. ✦ 」 Mattheo riddle x reader

Summary: Giving Mattheo the silent treatment after an argument wasn't the best idea after all

Words: 5k

Warning: [smut , heavy smut , strong language NSFW]

On days like these, I feel an overwhelming urge to rearrange Mattheo's face. Despite our discussions and my heartfelt pleas, he seems to have a remarkable talent for ignoring everything I say.

The memory of our conversation echoed in my mind: my desperate pleas for him to leave that wretched boy alone, the hollow promises he'd made to appease me.

And now, that very same boy was lying in the hospital. Quite a coincidence, isn't it?

The cold shoulder was the only response I could muster, a potent cocktail of disappointment and anger simmering just beneath.

"Look," he started, a cocky edge to his voice, "that jerk had it coming. You can't just let people walk all over you."

My blood ran cold. He wasn't remorseful, he was proud. My icy glare intensified.

"So you think injuring someone and getting them suspended is the answer?" I countered, my voice laced with controlled fury.

He shrugged, a nonchalant act that did little to hide the flicker of unease in his eyes. "He'll learn his lesson," he muttered, avoiding my gaze.

“ so , are you “ my voice tinged with disappointment as I turned away, leaving him behind. Maybe I wasn't that hungry after all

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

"Ah, I see you're in the mood for a silent treatment today," he remarked dryly as he leaned against the nearby wall, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Must be a new strategy in the art of communication, or perhaps it's just your way of keeping things exciting."

"Either way," he continued, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "I'm impressed by your dedication to the cause. Who needs words when we can communicate through meaningful silence, right?" His eyes sparkled with amusement as he waited for my response, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"Meaningful silence?" I scoffed. "That's a new one, Mattheo. Very poetic."

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Hey, I'm just trying to keep up with your level of dramatics."

I crossed my arms, feigning offense. "My dramatics? You're the one who turns every situation into a Shakespearean tragedy."

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Is that so? Well, I suppose every play needs a leading lady."

I couldn't help but smile despite myself. "And what role do you think you play in this drama?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The charming rogue, of course. The one who keeps the plot interesting."

I shook my head. "You certainly do that, Mattheo. Whether I like it or not."

His grin was infectious. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now, are you ready to break the silence and actually talk to me?"

“actually I have something to do “ i said

As I turned to leave, Mattheo's taunting words followed me. "Ignite me, Lady Macbeth."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself," I retorted.

He grabbed my arm lightly as I tried to walk away. "Don't roll your eyes unless you want this conversation to continue somewhere else y/n "

"I have something important to do," I replied coolly, trying to free my arm from his grasp.

He persisted, asking, "Like what?"

"Visiting a patient in the hospital," I said, finally pulling away and smiling.

Mattheo chuckled. "You'll regret this little act, baby."

"I thought we were in a play," I quipped before turning and walking away.

Truth be told, I had no intention of visiting that snobby Gryffindor in the hospital. Mattheo's broken promise irked me, but I couldn't muster any sympathy for the boy who got what he deserved.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

As the days went by, Mattheo's attempts to regain my attention became more evident. He started showing up unexpectedly in places I frequented, always with a casual excuse or a playful remark.

But today , today was something else , he deliberately sat closer to a group of giggling Ravenclaw girls, laughing a little too loudly at their jokes and engaging in animated conversation.

I couldn't help but notice, my eyes flickering over to his table every now and then. It was frustrating how effortlessly he could draw attention, even when he wasn't trying. I busied myself with my own friends, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that crept into my chest.

However, Mattheo wasn't done with his antics. As the meal progressed, he caught my eye from across the room and winked mischievously. It was a subtle gesture, but it made my heart race in a way I didn't want to admit.

Feeling a surge of annoyance mixed with curiosity, I excused myself from my friends and made my way over to his table. "What's with the show?" I asked, trying to sound unaffected.

Mattheo grinned, leaning back in his chair casually. "Just trying to keep things interesting," he replied with a shrug. "Besides, it's not every day I get to make you jealous."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "You wish."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Admit it, you were totally watching ."

“ well played riddle well played “ I walked away

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The days crawled by, each one painted in shades of frosty silence between Matteo and me. Rumors swirled around the school like rogue Bludgers. Had we finally called it quits? The question hung heavy in the air, fueled by Mattheo's brooding demeanor and my own steely resolve.

One particularly dreary afternoon, I found myself drowning my sorrows (or at least trying to ) in a big cup of apple juice in the library. Lost in a dusty tome about ancient magical creatures, I barely registered the approaching figure until a shadow fell across the page.

Looking up, I encountered a smug face I vaguely recognized – Zacharias Clifton, a Quidditch player from Ravenclaw notorious for his greasy hair and even greasier personality. "Mind if I join you, lovely?" he drawled, his voice dripping with a forced charm that made me cringe.

Before I could muster a response, he slid into the seat opposite me, invading my personal space with a confidence that reeked of entitlement. "So, I hear you're single these days," he continued, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.

I gritted my teeth, the urge to hex him into a toad growing stronger by the second. Just as I was about to unleash a verbal scathing of epic proportions, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Actually, Clifton, she's very much taken."

Mattheo stood in the doorway, his usual swagger amplified tenfold. His gaze, however, wasn't directed at Zacharias, but at me. A flicker of something that looked suspiciously like possessiveness crossed his features before he turned his attention back to the unwelcome visitor.

"See your broomstick awaits," Mattheo said, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't let me keep you from your precious practice."

Zacharias, his face a comical shade of purple, sputtered something incoherent before gathering his dignity (or what little he possessed) and retreating with a disgruntled scowl.

The library door swung shut with a satisfying thud, leaving Mattheo and me alone in the hushed silence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm that seemed to echo in the stillness.

Mattheo took a tentative step forward, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before gently settling on the back of my chair. "Can we talk?" he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.

"Yeah, just not here," I managed to get the words out, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Lead the way," he said, his arm tightening around me possessively as we walked out of the library

The anger that had simmered within me for days threatened to fade once I saw him, and it just hit me how much I missed him.

As we made our way to our secret chamber (the hidden chamber we found last year and claimed as ours),tucked away from the curious eyes and whispers of Hogwarts, Mattheo's touch took on a possessive edge. His hands found every excuse to claim me, a silent proclamation to the entire school that I was still his .

With each step down the narrow passage, Mattheo drew me closer, his fingertips tracing tantalizing patterns on my skin. The sensation sent delightful shivers through me, igniting a quiet thrill of belonging in his arms amidst the bustling halls of our magical world.

The soft glow of the hidden chamber beckoned us, casting an enchanting ambiance that mirrored the intimacy between us.

As soon as we were finally in , I turned to him,my voice tinged with anger."What was that all about ? A show for the audience ? "

He met my gaze, a playful glint simmering beneath the surface of his seriousness. "Just reminding everyone that you're happily taken."

"Happily?" I scoffed, pushing against his arm, "We haven't spoken a word to each other in days!"

He leaned even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And whose fault is that, love? " His warm breath tickled my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine.

My cheeks burned, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely swirling within me. "Yeah, going to blame that all on me now?"

"No," he paused, his eyes searching mine. "I just don’t understand why you're so mad about what I did to that perk."

I sighed, "it’s not about him , Mattheo… You know that," I conceded, my voice softer than I intended. "It’s about the promise you made and broke. You know how much I hate that."

It stirred up emotions I'd rather forget. Let's just say, coming from a family where promises were often broken had its drawbacks.

"So you've chosen to give me the silent treatment instead of talking it out? Is that your solution y/n?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms defensively. "I didn’t expect it to drag on this long. I was upset,but Maybe then I get tired of being treated like an afterthought."

"An afterthought?" he scoffed back, incredulous. "You haven't spoken to me in days!"

"And whose fault is that?" I shot back, my voice rising. "You waltzed over to those Ravenclaw girls like they were the only ones who existed!"

"That was a stupid attempt to get your attention, alright!" he snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I never meant to make you feel like an afterthought."

"But you did!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the damp chamber.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "I messed up, okay? I know that! But instead of talking to me about it, you shut me out."

"And what was I supposed to do?" I countered, my voice softening slightly. "Sit back and watch you flirt with every girl who walks by?"

"It wasn't flirting!" he defended, his voice strained.

"Then what was it?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes. "Because from where I was standing, it looked an awful lot like flirting."

"That's not fair," he said, his voice low. "And what about what you said? Visiting that perk in the hospital? Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face

"Maybe I overreacted about Michael," I mumbled, finally breaking the silence.

"Maybe you did," he agreed cautiously anger in his eyes and lips so close to mine

“it’s really fucking rich of you to push the blame into me “ I screamed in his face frustration boiling over

“yet i was the only one putting in the effort to fix things!” He said back with lips so close to mine

“you didn’t even —” pulling me close. In a rush his lips were on mine I didn’t get to finish the words . It took a few moments for me to come to my senses; letting my eyes flutter closed as i kissed him back. The kiss wasn't gentle or sweet. It was needy and heated as mattheo’s tongue moved against mine.

In an instant, I found myself pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring me hungrily. His hand on the back of my neck drew me closer, while the other rested on my waist, kneading the flesh there. He pulled away slightly, speaking against my lips “ jump”He ordered, and I complied wrapping my legs around him

"Mattheo—" He silenced me once more with a kiss.

His black hair was hanging down into his face, so i pushed it back. 

As he ended the kiss, his hands reached for my robe, tossing it aside. Next, his fingers trailed to the hem of my shirt, pulling it upward. Throughout, his gaze remained locked with mine as he removed the shirt, adding it to the pile on the ground. . “If you just wanted a dirty fuck , you should have just asked” 

Gently placing me on the bed, he observed as I sank into the soft sheets. He removed his shirt and joined me, straddling my hips without a word. His eyes held mine as he pushed up my skirt. "This stays," he stated firmly, maintaining direct eye contact.

He then moved to hook his fingers in the waistband of my underwear. Slowly, he pulled down the lace material, causing me to close my eyes in response to the sensation.

"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked breathlessly, feeling his warm breath against my thighs.

His hands glided up and down my thighs, eliciting a soft moan from me as I savored the sensation of his skin against mine. It had only been a week, but I missed this closeness immensely.

My eyes flew open as his hands gently spread my legs, his face drawing closer between my thighs.“ You’re so wet for me.” he chuckled cockily “ i this a new kink we just discovered “

“you’re so full of Yourself .” I didn’t help the smile that comes

“and you’re about to be full of me, so what does that make us?” He Murmuring as His hands wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer to his mouth.

“ Merlin's Beard! “I moaned so loudly

never breaking eye contact as his tongue lapped at my wetness. I moaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming me as Matt's tongue explored my wetness. Each flick of his tongue and gentle suck sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me tremble beneath him. My heart raced, the sound echoing in my ears as I expressed how much I had missed him.

"God, Matt, I missed you so much," I moaned, my mouth agape and my toes curling into the sheets. My hands instinctively tangled in his hair, urging him on with each movement. I cried out his name as the intensity built, feeling like I was on the brink of ecstasy.

But then, it stopped.

Confused and desperate, I lifted my head from the pillow, tears in my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath. "Why... why did you stop?" I cried out, my voice a mixture of frustration and need.

Matt flashed me an amused smile, teasing me further with a kiss to my aching clit. My breathing quickened again as he kissed along my inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where I wanted him most.

"Matt," I whimpered, regretting the frustration I must have caused him. His kisses trailed back up my body until he was face to face with me, watching me quiver beneath him.

"Please," I begged softly, feeling the desperation creeping into my voice.

“ what is it my sweet girl? “ He brushed my hair aside and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. "You've been teasing me all week," he murmured, his eyes filled with desire. "Wearing those short skirts, laughing with my friends, giving me the silent treatment."

He kissed me again, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "I've wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there , to fuck you senseless that my name will be the only thing you remember " he confessed, his voice husky with desire.

His lips trailed down to my earlobe, where he bit it softly, eliciting another moan from me. His mouth continued its journey, claiming every inch of my body with his tongue and teeth, until he reached my chest.

I arched back, silently pleading for his attention on my breasts. With a teasing hook of his finger, he slid down the neckline of my top, removing the lace of my bra in the process. His mouth captured one nipple, sucking slowly while his free hand caressed the other.

His actions sent shivers down my spine as he licked, sucked, and bit, creating a delicious rhythm that had me gasping for more.

"I'm sorry," I cried out, tears welling up in my eyes. "I missed you so much, and seeing you laughing with those girls hurt."

"I know, my sweet girl, I know," he whispered, his head buried between my legs once more. "Let me make it up to you."

With renewed fervor, he sucked harshly on my clit, his fingers pumping in and out of me rhythmically. The combination of sensations overwhelmed me, and I couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

As my body reached its peak, I gripped his hands tightly, feeling the fluttering release of my orgasm. I moaned his name loudly, I moaned his name probably too loudly for ghosts in the castle liking, pulled him up for a passionate kiss, savoring the taste of myself on his lips.

“Turn around,” he says,

I obeyed his command to turn around, and he slowly unpinned my hair, letting it cascade down my back in loose waves. He pushed it over one shoulder with deliberate care, his fingers trailing down my spine, igniting goosebumps along my skin , his fingers trailing down my spine, brushing the skin on my back.

His lips found their way to my neck, planting soft kisses that trailed down to my shoulder. Then, I felt his fingertips running along my skin again, sending a shiver of anticipation through me. His touch entered my hot, dripping core, and I couldn't help but let out a loud moan, begging for more.

"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice filled with desire.

"Yeah," I managed to say between moans.

“Is this why you were shouting nonsense at me? Because all you really wanted was me to fuck you senseless? Huh?” His words were like fire, and as he added another finger, I couldn't help but scream in pleasure.

continued to pump his fingers into me, increasing the intensity with each stroke. his finger got faster and faster His thumb pressed onto my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body, gripping the bedding hard as the third finger carefully joins the others hitting my g-spot continuously , trying to close my legs, his free hand keep them parted I felt my orgasm building stronger than ever before, my body unable to contain the pleasure.

He turned me around, kissing my cheek softly before returning to my open mouth, sucking my bottom lip between his own. "That was so hot," he grunted, concern lacing his tone. "Are you alright baby ?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, my chest heaving with each breath. Despite the intensity of the moment, my predominant feeling was one of satisfaction and desire.I hummed

“ need words my love “

"Yes Matt I’m alright " I managed to say, pulling him down for a deep, passionate kiss.

His hips pressed against mine as we kissed, his covered arousal rubbing against my heat, sending a surge of desire through me. I trailed my hands down his muscular back until I reached the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Baby, stop," he murmured, concern lacing his tone. "Are you sure you want to keep going? I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed."

"I've never been more sure about anything," I whispered, kissing his cheek. "I missed you, I want you."

He moaned as I touched his erect member through the fabric, his breath hitching slightly. "You need to stop, love," he managed to say, his voice strained with desire.

"Sorry," I replied, pulling my hands away quickly. He leaned down to kiss my neck softly, causing me to close my eyes and wrap my arms around him.

"You never have to apologize," he whispered against my earlobe before whispering, "I’m going to make love to you," and pressing his lips to mine in tender kisses. then onc again pressing his lips to mine in sweet, sweet kisses.

one of my favourite thing about mattheo is how gentle he can be. He can be so passionate when he wants to and right now i can feel the love behind his kisses. 

Feeling his cock tapping against my clit a few times, I couldn't help but let out a moan as he guided himself into me. Taking hold of my leg again, he used them both as leverage to push himself fully inside me. I moaned into his ear, my breath hitching in anticipation.

"Fuck," I whispered, watching him mutter under his breath as he slid in and out of me slowly. The sensation was incredible; I could feel every inch of him dragging over my most sensitive parts.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby," he whispered, and I opened my teary eyes slowly, doing as he said. He smiled, his gaze filled with desire. "That's it, good girl ."

Still buried deep inside me, his movements began to pick up speed. My breath caught in my throat as pleasure surged through me.

"Oh," I gasped, my head dropping back as my mouth fell open in pleasure.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted with each thrust. "So fucking mine."

I hummed in response, words escaping me as Mattheo continued to drive me wild. With each thrust, my moans grew louder, reaching a crescendo of pleasure.

"Mattheo," I moaned, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.

"That's it, baby," he replied, his lips devouring mine softly. "So beautiful, moaning my name like that."

With a gentle touch, he pushed my hair out of my face before placing his hands on my cheeks. His eyes roamed my face while he continued to thrust into me at a slow, deliberate pace. I looked at him with half-lidded eyes, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

As he started to thrust harder, I grabbed a fistful of the sheets, feeling the intensity building within me. His hips bucked against me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. The faster pace and increased pressure caused my eyes to roll back in my head. I was on the edge of my high, having come so close moments earlier.

"Mattheo, I can't wait any longer," I screamed out, wrapping my legs around his torso tightly and intertwining our hands.

"Not yet," he grunted, turning his head to meet my gaze. He continued to move in and out of me, keeping eye contact as he held himself up by his forearms. I was so sensitive that the delay in my orgasm began to ache, and I felt the need to let go.

"Please, let me cum, baby," I pleaded, sounded desperate, begging him not to pull away at the last minute again. "I can't..."

And just as I was about to reach my breaking point, he freed one of his hands and snuck it between us, his fingers expertly rubbing at my clit and pushing me over the edge.

"I need you to do something for me, pretty girl. Want to try something?" he asked, and I nodded, willing to do anything he asked in that moment.

He kept everything slow, almost torturous, building up the tightening pressure inside of me with each pass before thrusting so hard the next time that I felt like I was going to pass out.

"Don't be nervous," he murmured, kissing my forehead. "Just relax and let go. I'll keep going until you tell me to stop." His soft tone sent flutters through my heart, and I nodded in response.

My breath hitched as his hand returned to my clit, igniting a fire in my belly. His hard thrusts hit my g-spot, and I screamed out, clinging onto his hand as if my life depended on it.

"Shit," I hissed, feeling him deep inside me, the pleasure building into a heavy weight in my gut. A tingling sensation hummed through my limbs.

"Let go, baby," he ordered, and I did just that as waves of pleasure crashed over me. It was an intense release unlike anything I'd ever felt before, leaving me shakily tilting my head up, tears in my eyes as I watched clear fluid gushing out of me each time Mattheo pulled back.

When he noticed me watching, he withdrew entirely, bringing his soaked fingers to my clit and rubbing fast circles that made me cry out loudly as my muscles spasmed again. Without his presence inside me, an unbroken stream of fluid rushed out, spraying over the bed sheets.

"Oh my god," I whimpered, needing a moment to focus on the overwhelming sensations. Mattheo made a noise of appreciation, reentering me, the wet sounds now more intense as he pushed in again.

"That's my good girl, you just squirted for me, baby. See how good you are," he praised, his words adding to the intensity of the moment.rl you just squirt for me baby see how good you are ”

Pounding into my g-spot hard enough to make my legs shake, he elicited another wave of pleasure that rolled through me. Instinctively, my body responded to Mattheo's instructions, bursts of arousal shooting out of me as I moaned softly with each pump of his hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I gasped in sync with his movements.

"Holy shit," Mattheo rasped as he drew his fingers out again, groaning when he returned to my clit and easily worked even more wetness out of me. "You just keep fucking cuming, baby."

I could barely process what he was saying. "Please, cum inside me, Matt," I wanted to mention that I finally got on pills this week but couldn't find the energy to.

"Yeah?" He breathed, "Want me to cum inside this pretty pussy?" Thrusting hard, his fingers still circling my clit, I moaned out his name as I squirted again and again. My pussy started to quiver as he continued to fuck me through it, crying out loudly when I felt him coming inside me as well.

Wetness splashed out of me in endless spurts, soaking my cunt, his hand, and the bed. It felt like I was coming for hours, amazed at what my body was capable of.

"You okay, my love?" He asked, concern evident in his voice as he looked down at me. My eyes were closed, and I gave no indication that I was listening to him, feeling like I had passed out for a second.

"Hey angel, open your eyes to me, please," Mattheo implored, kissing my cheeks and rubbing his thumb soothingly.

"Yeah, I just need a moment," I managed to whisper, feeling drained. "I think you ruined me, Matt," I added with a weak smile.

He chuckled softly, giving me kisses all over my face. "Yeah?" he teased.

"In a good way though," I reassured him.

With a small grunt, Mattheo pushed himself off of me and sat up from the bed. I reached out for him, not wanting him to leave my side yet. He chuckled at my antics, lightly grasping my hand and stroking my fingers before letting it go and stepping away.

"Just going to grab a few things to clean you up, love. I promise I’ll be right back," he assured me.

Nodding, I closed my eyes again, too exhausted to do anything else.

"I brought you some water, darling. You should drink a little," he said as he sat back down on the bed next to me, helping me sit up a bit. I complied lazily, sipping from the glass he held against my lips.

"Now, spread your legs a little, sweetheart. I need to clean you up. Not too sore?" He asked as he gently cleaned me up with a washcloth, my body still sensitive .

As he cleaned me up and tidied the sheets, I felt sleep starting to take over me, comforted by his warmth and embrace. He kissed my face a few times and chuckled softly before I finally drifted off to sleep, feeling content and loved.

"I don’t think I would ever be able to walk again," I joked softly .

"I would carry you then," he replied affectionately.

"Since it’s all your fault, so yes," I teased, feeling a mix of emotions.

"I’m so sorry," he apologized sincerely

"Matt—"

"No, listen. I’m really sorry for everything. It was all my fault from the start. I shouldn’t have promised you that and then go and break it the next day," he admitted regretfully.

“ I’m so sorry too “ I hugged him tightly, hiding my face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling the blanket over us.

"Can we sleep here tonight?" I asked, wanting to be close to him.

"We can do anything you want, baby. I will do whatever you want," he promised, kissing my forehead.

"I love you so, so much," I whispered, feeling sleepiness creeping in.

"I love you so much too, my love," he replied, kissing my forehead back.

"Baby?" he said after a moment.

"Yeah?" I replied, feeling sleepy.

"Did you ever think about kids?" he asked, surprising me.

I laughed softly. "What?"he said

"I’m on pills, baby. I finally managed to get them," I explained, resting my head on his chest as I got ready to sleep.

"Baby?" he said again, and I hummed in response.

"Just for your information, I’m going to hit that Zacharias boy so hard tomorrow he can join Michael in the hospital, and Michael doesn’t have to feel lonely anymore. I’m telling you now,"

"I was thinking about hexing him into a toad, but we can decide tomorrow," laughing while giving him one last kiss I said .

[wonryllis]

✶ 𝟭𝟳𝟳𝟱 (𝓥 ) SATAN'S IMAGINATION, AGENT ENHYPEN.

╰ 𝖠𝖫𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖫𝖸, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋.

THE ATELIER. agent!enhypen hanging on that line between act and reality with agent!reader. word count 1261 CONTAINS— fluff, suggestive, fem!reader. ( ARCHIVE? ) pls reblog!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he feels his breath caught in a dangerously thin line between staying professional and kissing the hell out of you, your body pressed against him between the narrow shelves.

he's probably at fault for blowing your cover earlier but all he can think about right now is the way the light through the windows make your glossed lips glow and your messy hair look sensual.

each inhale and exhale a battle against his self-control.

"do you think they noticed?" your voice sounds more tempting than ever in the low whisper you let out against his chest and heeseung swears he's fighting demons right now. "i hope not," he sighs heavy, feeling himself leaning into you, getting carried away as his conscience slowly slips and cracks.

lips almost brushing when you suddenly look up, wide eyes boring into his,"i think they just walked past," unaware and painfully oblivious of what your partner was about to do to you. of how he was ready to devour you.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 with the biggest lovesick smile ever, jay watches you act coy in your character, gently excusing yourself to the washroom.

"act like you want me, but more like you love me," your soft words tingle his ear as you discreetly whisper to him just before you leave the dinner table. are you dense or are you just too professional? there is no way you think the look on his face isn't already giving away his feelings to all these people around the table you're supposed to fool.

he chuckles deep and smitten as he stands seconds after,"i apologize gentlemen, but my love needs my help," excusing himself as well.

with each step he takes towards you, he realizes the wicked idea you have in your wicked little brain.

his heart skipping beats and blood rushing everywhere when you throw yourself at him, dragging him to bathroom with your lips hovering over his making sure the targeted people get a glimpse of it and get the wrong idea.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 jake grins wider as your palm presses flat against his chest first and then fingers curl to mimic a gun, your tips emulating a spark of electricity through his veins, feeling the blood pump harder in his heart.

"you better not take advantage of our cover to steal kisses, sim," it is crazy how he feels disappointed yet amused at the same time, you doing this right now is the hottest thing ever but you refusing to let him kiss you later is a tad bit upsetting plus you knowing he loves to do that has him dazed.

"can't promis—" his breath gets knocked out mid sentence as you grab him by his tie and smash your lips together in a sloppy and short kiss.

"that's is all you can have for the night, focus on the mission agent three,"

now that was hotter than the hottest thing you could have ever done to him, and you decide to do it right before work. oh how he wishes he had kissed back harder and show you just what you'd be missing out on later.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 his eyes scan across your rather overly feminine dressed figure amble over to him, stance seductive and alluring in the red cocktail gown he helped you pick hours ago.

"that was disgusting," he says as soon as you stop beside him.

he was glad the mission was successful and he was so glad he picked this dress for you. feeling a sense of pride that he has always been the first one to see you dolled up and that he has always been your date and that he has always been gotten to take you home at the end of night.

the only thing he feels jealous about right now is that while he has always been all that, it has always been the targets who get to feel you all up and who get to see your siren side showing them how it would be if you were interested in them.

"well it wasn't for you anyway, mr hotshot," you bite back and sunghoon almost breaks on the verge of exposing that he'd die for it to him, for you to seduce the heck out of him.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 the hawk-like focus sunoo had on you seemed so normal to you both, you didn't even realize when it turned into something possesive and unfitting for agents just working together.

perhaps it was for the reason that you two had been paired up together for couple missions, or perhaps it was because you both trained together everyday. there was this sense of belonging you had developed, unaware of how it was changing things in your work dynamics.

"your gaze is so fake, come on baby i know you can give a more sultry one, remember our practice?" sunoo speaks through the in-ears, his eyes locked with yours across the other end of the vip club, watching you try to seduce the target.

the sparkle of tension crackling in the air as you held the eye contact, sunoo's ego blasting at the back of his mind knowing he's the only one who's seen the real thing.

"just imagine it's me, and finish it up so you can actually come back to me,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 his gaze is envious and bitter, feeling his blood boil over the revelation you just made. "so you know him well?" the tone being one of grudge and spite, he continues to watch you strap on the weapons around you body. places under your dress where one would probably not have the chance to touch, unless it's him.

which amplifies his jealousy to a staggering height at the realization that the target you are chasing this time probably has touched you in those places before. maybe even more than he has.

the dismissive nod you respond with, makes jungwon's impatience fly through the roof, walking closer to trap you against the table where the weapons laid. "better than me?"

the air thickens with implication of his words, jungwon himself is unaware what the undertone of it means.

if it's how well you know him or if it's something entirely different, something that makes him want to leave kisses down your neck like he did the last time.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 his breath is laboured as he helps you rush out the pool, your fancy dress drenched and heavy weighing you down more than he'd anticipated. quickly you both find a spot in the showers to hide, squeezing into a single booth.

he's brisk and sharp, giving you a hand in stepping out your wet dress into the latex suit underneath. letting you put your weight on him, your hands holding onto his body while you undo the strings and sleeves. the possibilities of getting caught are on high alert yet riki can't find it in him to focus on anything besides you.

the way you look so hot in your agent attire, your hair wet and sticking to the sides of your face making you appear so cute in contrast to you getting ready to fight men a step outside the door.

he has always found it so attractive, and the thought of admitting it openly just makes him more dazed.

his fingers reach out to push away the strands around your eyes and lips, thumb brushing a second longer on your lips, "i really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers into your ears, lips grazing against it softly.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Dangerous Woman

Mob Boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: You're just a bartender until Natasha Romanoff walks into your life.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, alludes to sex, mentions of knives, mob life, mentions of vom*t

Authors notes: After making this moodboard I had this idea

You loved the rhythm of the restaurant’s evening rush. The clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter—it was a symphony that you had grown to cherish. As the bartender at one of the city’s most upscale establishments, you prided yourself on knowing the regulars, remembering their favorite drinks, and always being ready with a warm smile and a listening ear.

Tonight, the restaurant was especially busy. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a golden light over the elegantly dressed patrons, and the rich scent of gourmet dishes filled the air. You moved with practiced ease behind the bar, mixing cocktails, pouring wine, and engaging in light banter with the guests.

Your colleagues often joked about your ability to handle even the most demanding customers with grace. It was a skill that had earned you a reputation among the clientele and the respect of your fellow staff. But beneath your composed exterior, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different. There was an electricity in the air, an anticipation that you couldn’t quite place.

As you polished a glass, your eyes drifted to the entrance just in time to see a striking woman step inside. She was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exuded sophistication and power. Her auburn hair was styled to perfection, and her sharp green eyes scanned the room with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Natasha Romanoff, you realized with a start. The name was whispered in certain circles with a mix of reverence and fear. She was the heiress to the infamous Red Guardian’s empire, known for her ruthless efficiency and unyielding control over her domain. You had never expected to see her in person, let alone at your bar.

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she made her way to a secluded table where a nervous-looking man awaited her. As she sat down, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you every so often, a piercing gaze that made your pulse quicken.

You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept drifting back to her. What could bring someone like Natasha Romanoff here? And why did it feel like she was watching you so intently?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime from the bar. A customer was waiting. You turned your attention back to your duties, pushing aside the questions that swirled in your mind.

Time seemed to blur as the evening wore on. The restaurant’s ambiance, the steady stream of orders, and the occasional glance toward Natasha’s table kept you occupied. But you couldn’t ignore the growing sense of anticipation, the feeling that something significant was about to happen.

It wasn’t long before Natasha rose from her table, her conversation with the client seemingly concluded. She walked with an air of purpose toward the bar, her eyes locking onto yours. The room seemed to hush as she approached, the weight of her presence palpable.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “I’d like your highest-priced bottle of red wine.”

You nodded, trying to steady your nerves as you reached for the exclusive bottle kept in the back for such occasions. “Of course, ma’am,” you replied, setting the bottle and a glass in front of her. “This is our finest vintage.”

Natasha’s lips curled into a faint smile as she watched you pour. “You have a good eye for quality,” she remarked, taking the glass and swirling the wine before taking a sip. “What’s your name?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze. “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N,” she repeated, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Natasha.”

The name sent a shiver down your spine. It confirmed what you had suspected, but there was a gentleness in her tone that caught you off guard. “Nice to meet you too, Natasha.”

She leaned closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me, Y/N, how does someone like you end up working in a place like this?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I enjoy meeting new people and making their nights a little brighter. Plus, I’ve always had a passion for mixing drinks.”

Natasha’s smile widened slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “A passion for mixing drinks and making people happy. That’s a rare combination.”

She took another sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other, Y/N.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say, but feeling a strange sense of anticipation. As Natasha returned to her table, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your life had just taken a turn, one that would lead you deeper into her world.

=========

And see her again you did. It didn't take long, in fact. As you walked back to your apartment after that fateful encounter, the night air was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the restaurant. The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional pedestrian or car passing by. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, your thoughts lingering on the enigmatic woman who had unexpectedly captured your attention.

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard footsteps behind you, quickening in pace. Two men rounded the corner, their faces shadowed in the dim streetlights. They called out to you, their voices laced with a confidence you recognized all too well. Working as a bartender, you had grown accustomed to unwanted advances, even in the upscale environment of your workplace. The wealthy often believed their status and money could win you over, but they were always wrong.

One of the men stepped closer, his words slurred and suggestive. You stiffened, preparing yourself to handle the situation as you always did. But before you could speak, a familiar voice cut through the night.

"That's enough," Natasha's voice was cold and commanding, a dangerous edge to it that made the men freeze. She stepped out of the shadows, her presence immediately imposing.

The man who had been speaking turned to her, annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Listen, bitch, stay—" His words died in his throat as recognition dawned on his face. "The Red Guardian's daughter... The Black Widow..."

The name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The color drained from the men's faces as they realized just who they were dealing with. Without another word, they turned and bolted, disappearing into the night as quickly as they had appeared.

Natasha watched them go, her expression unreadable. Then, she turned to you, her gaze softening. She closed the distance between you with a few quick strides, her cool hands gently cupping your cheeks. The touch was unexpected, but strangely comforting. You could still smell the faint scent of the wine she had sipped earlier, mingling with the subtle notes of mint that came off her. The combination made your head spin, your heart racing in your chest.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with concern. Her thumbs gently brushed against your skin, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you."

Natasha’s eyes softened further, a small smile playing on her lips. "You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that," she murmured, her tone protective. "Let me walk you home."

It wasn’t a request; it was a gentle command, and you found yourself unable to refuse. There was something undeniably captivating about her, a mixture of strength and vulnerability that drew you in.

=======

Instead of Natasha walking you home, you found yourself in her sleek black car, the city lights fading behind you as she drove you out of the bustling downtown area. The ride was quiet, the air filled with an unspoken tension, your mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You tried to piece together the events that had led you here, but the answers eluded you. All you knew was that you were headed to Natasha Romanoff's home, and that fact alone left you both exhilarated and anxious.

The drive seemed to stretch on, each mile taking you further from the familiar streets you knew. Finally, the car slowed and turned onto a private driveway. You gazed out the window, your eyes widening as a grand mansion came into view, nestled amidst lush, manicured gardens. The imposing structure was a blend of modern and classic architecture, exuding an air of sophistication and power that mirrored Natasha herself.

As the car came to a stop, your breath hitched. The sheer size and elegance of the mansion made your jaw drop. It was a far cry from the modest apartment you called home. Natasha stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you with a small, reassuring smile. You stepped out, feeling the cool night air against your skin, and followed her up the grand steps to the entrance.

The door opened before you could reach for it, revealing a pair of neatly dressed maids who greeted Natasha with polite nods. They took her coat and scarf, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha slipped off her jacket, revealing the burgundy shirt she wore underneath. She loosened her tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt, revealing a hint of her cleavage. The sight made your mouth and throat go dry, a sudden wave of heat rushing through you. The contrast between her commanding presence and the subtle glimpse of vulnerability left you speechless.

Natasha glanced over at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Welcome to my home," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. She gestured for you to follow her inside, her hand resting lightly on your lower back as she guided you through the grand foyer. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior—high ceilings, marble floors, and an array of tasteful art pieces adorning the walls. It was a place that spoke of wealth and status, yet felt oddly intimate.

As you walked further into the mansion, you noticed the staff bustling about, all moving with a quiet efficiency. It was clear that everything and everyone here existed to serve Natasha's needs and desires. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervousness, wondering how you had ended up in such a situation. It felt surreal, like you were living a dream—or perhaps a fantasy you hadn't even known you had.

Natasha led you into a cozy sitting room, its walls lined with bookshelves and soft, plush furniture. She motioned for you to sit on a comfortable sofa, then poured herself a glass of red wine from a decanter on a nearby table. She poured a second glass and handed it to you, her eyes never leaving yours. The gesture was both casual and intimate, a reminder of the connection that had sparked between you earlier in the evening.

As you took the glass, your fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Natasha settled into an armchair across from you, her posture relaxed yet commanding. She took a sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful.

"So," she began, her voice low and smooth. "How does it feel to be here, in my home?" There was a teasing glint in her eyes, but also a genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "It's... breathtaking," you managed to say, your eyes flickering around the room before settling back on her. "I never expected to end up in a place like this. With you."

Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I didn't expect it either," she admitted, her voice softening. "But here we are."

There was a pause, a charged silence that hung in the air between you. You felt the weight of the moment, the unspoken possibilities that seemed to shimmer in the space between you. Natasha's presence was intoxicating, her allure undeniable. As she studied you, you couldn’t help but wonder what she saw in you, and what she had planned for the night.

Before either of you could continue the conversation, the two of you were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. A blonde woman with a thick Russian accent burst into the den, her presence as commanding as Natasha's. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and she carried herself with a confidence that suggested she was no stranger to dangerous situations.

"Sestra! I took care of To—" she began, her voice trailing off as she noticed you sitting there. A look of surprise crossed her face, quickly followed by suspicion. Her eyes narrowed, scanning you with a critical gaze before she turned her attention back to Natasha. Her expression softened slightly, but a hint of curiosity remained.

"Сестра, кто это?" the blonde asked, her voice low and questioning.

Natasha glanced at you briefly, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile before she turned to address the woman. She responded in Russian, her tone calm and composed, "Это Y/N, одна из новых знакомых. Не волнуйся, всё под контролем." (This is Y/N, one of my new acquaintances. Don't worry, everything is under control.)

The blonde raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the situation. Her eyes flicked back to you, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Знакомых, да?" (Acquaintances, huh?) she replied, her tone teasing yet inquisitive. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "Интересно. Очень интересно." (Interesting. Very interesting.)

Natasha chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Успокойся, Елена. Мы просто общаемся." (Calm down, Yelena. We're just communicating.) She turned to you, switching to English with ease. "This is my sister, Yelena. She tends to be a bit... protective."

Yelena smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "A bit? That's an understatement." She pushed off the doorframe and approached, extending a hand toward you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I've heard... well, nothing about you," she joked, her tone lightening the atmosphere.

You shook her hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden shift in the room's dynamics. "Nice to meet you too, Yelena," you managed, trying to keep up with the rapid changes in conversation.

Yelena nodded, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned back to Natasha. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know everything's taken care of." She paused, a more serious expression crossing her face. "But we should talk later."

Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Of course. We'll catch up in a bit."

With that, Yelena gave you one last curious glance before making her way out of the room, leaving you alone with Natasha once more. The interruption had brought a new energy into the space, a reminder of the world Natasha inhabited—a world that was clearly more complicated and dangerous than you had initially realized.

As the door closed behind Yelena, Natasha turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "Sorry about that," she said with a small sigh. "My sister can be a bit... overbearing at times. But she's good at what she does." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes locking onto yours once more. "Now, where were we?"

"So that's your sister, which means she's the White Widow?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. The realization hit you that you were in the presence of not just one but two of the most formidable figures in the city's underworld. Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she sipped her wine.

"Yes, she is," Natasha confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact. She set her glass down, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual authority. "But enough about that part of my life," she continued, her voice deepening and becoming gravelly. The sound sent a shiver through you, resonating with a magnetic pull that made your pulse quicken.

Natasha's eyes bore into yours, her gaze intent and focused. "I want to know more about you." Her words were not just a request but an invitation, laced with a curiosity that seemed to cut through the haze of the evening.

You felt the warmth of the wine spreading through your system, your head starting to swim. The rich, velvety taste lingered on your tongue, mingling with the intoxicating presence of the woman before you. The room felt warmer, the air heavier with unspoken tension.

You swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts. "There's not much to tell," you began, feeling a bit self-conscious under her intense scrutiny. "I'm just a bartender, working to make ends meet. I've been at the restaurant for a few years now, and I guess I've gotten good at reading people. But my life... it's pretty ordinary compared to yours."

Natasha's lips curled into a small smile, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Ordinary? I find that hard to believe," she murmured, her voice low and smooth. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together. "You must have seen and heard a lot from behind that bar. People's true selves often come out after a few drinks. It's a unique perspective."

Her words made you feel exposed, as if she could see right through you. The weight of her attention was both thrilling and terrifying. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the moment. "I suppose you're right," you admitted. "It's interesting, observing people and their stories. But I never expected to find myself in a situation like this."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?" She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The touch was light, almost tender, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. "You're intriguing, [Your Name]. There's more to you than meets the eye."

Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made your heart race. You could feel the pull between you, the magnetic connection that seemed to draw you closer despite the differences in your worlds. The room felt smaller, the space between you charged with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

You blamed it on the alcohol when you leaned forward, your inhibitions slipping away with every sip of wine. The world around you blurred, leaving only Natasha's piercing green eyes and the intoxicating allure of her presence. It felt almost surreal, like a dream you never wanted to end.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. Natasha responded immediately, her lips warm and inviting against yours. The initial contact sent a thrill through your body, igniting a spark that quickly flared into a flame.

You also blamed the alcohol for the boldness with which she pulled you into her lap, her strong hands guiding you effortlessly. You settled onto her, straddling her thighs, your fingers tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. Natasha's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

The taste of the wine lingered on her lips, mingling with the heady sensation of being so close to her. Her hands roamed over your back, firm yet gentle, sending shivers down your spine. You felt her tongue brush against your lips, seeking entrance, and you parted them willingly, allowing her to explore further. The kiss became more passionate, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to drown in each other.

Natasha's touch was intoxicating, and the way she held you made you feel wanted, desired. Your hands trailed down to the open collar of her shirt, your fingers brushing against the smooth skin of her chest. The contact drew a soft moan from her, a sound that only spurred you on.

You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the intensity of the moment, but everything felt heightened. The heat of her body against yours, the taste of her lips, the scent of her, mint—it all blended together, creating a heady mix that made your head spin. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the kiss.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the grandeur of her mansion, not the complexity of her life, and certainly not the consequences of your actions. It was just you and Natasha, caught in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment, you barely noticed when Natasha effortlessly lifted you from her lap. Her strength surprised you, but there was something undeniably alluring about being in her arms, your bodies pressed close as she carried you with ease. Your lips left hers only to trail a series of kisses down her neck, tasting the warmth of her skin. You felt the rapid beat of her pulse under your lips, a testament to the shared urgency between you.

As she ascended the grand staircase, your mouth continued its exploration, planting soft kisses along the curve of her neck. You nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of marks in your wake. Natasha's breath hitched, a low growl escaping her throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the heady mix of desire that consumed you both.

Natasha carried you through the elegantly decorated hallways, the grandeur of her home barely registering in your haze. All you could focus on was the feel of her body against yours, the scent of mint making you dizzy, and the electric connection that pulsed between you.

The journey felt both like an eternity and a blink of an eye. You were vaguely aware of the doors she passed through, the soft click of them closing behind her. Finally, she carried you into a spacious bedroom, the décor understated yet luxurious, a testament to her refined taste. The bed, large and inviting, became the focal point of the room.

Natasha gently laid you down on the plush bed, her eyes dark with desire as she leaned over you. Her fingers brushed over the marks you'd left on her neck, a smirk playing on her lips. "Leaving your mark, are we?" she teased, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of exhilaration and anticipation. "Couldn't help myself," you replied, your voice breathless. Your fingers reached out, tracing the line of her jaw, feeling the smoothness of her skin. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, every touch and glance charged with an intensity that made your heart race.

Natasha's eyes softened, a warmth in them that belied her usual cool demeanor. She leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her hands sliding up your sides with a possessive urgency. The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other, a tangle of limbs and whispered breaths. The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of more to come, a whirlwind of passion and discovery that neither of you were eager to escape.

===========

When you awoke the next morning, a dull throb echoed in your head, and the unfamiliar comfort of the sheets around you registered as too luxurious to be your own. You blinked groggily, only to wince as the bright light streaming through the windows made your vision pulse with pain. Quickly, you covered your eyes with your hand, slowly adjusting to the brightness. As you squinted them back open, the unfamiliar surroundings reminded you that you weren't home.

The events of the previous night came rushing back, a blend of passionate moments and stolen touches with Natasha. You looked around the room, taking in the elegant décor and the subtle scent of mint lingering in the air. It was a beautiful, well-appointed space, clearly reflecting her refined taste. As your eyes landed on the bedside table, you noticed a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine. Next to them lay a folded note. Curiosity piqued, you reached for the note and unfolded it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you read the familiar handwriting.

"I'm down the hall in my office. I wanted to let you sleep. Feel free to put on the clothes on the chair in the corner. I had someone go out and buy them for you this morning. I hope I got your sizes right. -Tasha"

The gesture was thoughtful, and it made your heart flutter. Natasha had clearly thought about your comfort, even after the whirlwind of the previous night. You set the note down and took the medicine with a grateful sip of water, hoping it would help ease the headache pounding in your skull. The cool liquid was refreshing, and you felt a little more awake as you placed the empty glass back on the table.

With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The room spun slightly, but you steadied yourself, making your way to the chair in the corner. Draped over it was a set of neatly folded clothes, clearly new. You ran your fingers over the fabric, appreciating the soft, high-quality material. Natasha had taken the time to ensure you would be comfortable and well-dressed, a gesture that felt both intimate and considerate.

You quickly changed into the clothes, finding that they fit perfectly, as if tailored just for you. As you dressed, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about seeing Natasha again. The events of the night before felt like a dream, and you were eager to see what the day would bring. You smoothed down the clothes, took a deep breath, and prepared to step out of the room, ready to face whatever awaited you beyond the door.

You checked yourself out in the mirror with a smile, appreciating how well the outfit suited you. The red plaid pleated skirt paired with the tight black long-sleeved V-neck was a bit more daring than your usual style, but it felt exciting. The addition of the thick thigh-high stockings added a playful touch, making you feel both confident and alluring. Satisfied with your appearance, you left the room and headed out into the hallway.

Upon spotting one of the maids, you politely asked for directions to Natasha's office. She nodded and led you there quietly, stopping in front of a dark wooden door from which Natasha's voice could be heard. The maid gave you a small nod, and you took a deep breath before opening the door.

As you entered, Natasha's eyes immediately found you, and a warm smile spread across her face. She gestured for you to come closer, her gaze filled with an appreciative gleam. You quietly made your way over, and once you were within reach, Natasha's arm snaked around your waist, pulling you onto her lap. The unexpected closeness made your heart race, and you bit your lip to suppress any noises as she subtly squeezed your thighs like a stress ball. The smirk on her face told you she was enjoying every moment of your reaction.

Natasha continued her conversation on the phone, her tone authoritative and calm. You sat there, trying to maintain your composure as her hands roamed over you, seemingly innocent but filled with intent. When she finally hung up the phone, she turned her full attention to you, her eyes raking over your body with an appreciative gaze.

"You look amazing, darling," Natasha murmured, her hands wandering over your curves, taking in every detail of your outfit. Her touch was possessive, yet gentle, as if she were savoring the moment.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm assuming you picked this out for a reason? Is this how you like to dress your girls?" you asked, teasing her a bit.

Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she leaned back slightly, her hands still resting on your hips. "And boys," she added with a knowing grin. "What can I say? A cute little thing in a plaid skirt and tight shirt, all for me to see? It's a look I can't resist."

Her eyes wandered over you again, this time lingering on your chest. The intensity of her gaze made you feel a delightful mix of bashfulness and excitement. Natasha's admiration was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by her attention. It was clear she enjoyed the power dynamics at play, and you were more than willing to play along.

=====

As much as you were enjoying the attention from the city's most powerful and intimidating figure, a nagging doubt crept into your mind. It felt surreal, almost too good to be true. You couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be some sort of catch, something you were missing.

"Why me?" The question slipped out quietly, almost a whisper. The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it, feeling vulnerable and exposed. You kept your eyes down, afraid of what her reaction might be.

Natasha's hand gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet hers. Her expression wasn't harsh or intimidating, as you had feared. Instead, her eyes held a softness, a tenderness that caught you off guard. It was like looking into a tranquil meadow in Spring, calm and reassuring.

"Y/N, look at me," she repeated softly, her voice steady and sincere. "I took one look at you and knew I had to have you. If you had said no to anything, I would have left you alone. I would never make you do anything, понимать?" She asked, the last word rolling off her tongue in Russian, a language that sounded both beautiful and mysterious to your ears.

You weren't entirely sure what the word meant, but you repeated it back as best as you could, the unfamiliar syllables feeling awkward in your mouth. "Понимать," you echoed, sounding more like a child trying to mimic a word. Natasha's smile widened, clearly amused by your effort.

"It means 'understand,'" she explained, her voice warm and patient. You nodded, feeling a little more at ease.

"Capeesh," you replied with a playful smile, borrowing the phrase you knew from movies. Natasha's laugh rang out, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. It was infectious, and soon you found yourself laughing along with her, the tension from moments before melting away.

Natasha's laughter was a reminder that, despite her fearsome reputation, she was still human. In that moment, you felt a connection with her that went beyond the intimidating aura she carried. There was a genuine care in her words, a desire to reassure you and make you feel safe. It was a side of her that few probably ever got to see, and you felt privileged to witness it.

====

The following night, the bar was alive with energy, buzzing with the usual Friday night crowd. It was one of your busiest nights, and you thrived in the chaos, moving effortlessly behind the bar in a cropped top and booty shorts. The outfit, while bold, was a practical choice for the heat and energy of the night, and it certainly helped rake in tips from regulars and wealthy patrons alike. You danced and sang along with the music, mixing and pouring drinks with a flair that captivated everyone around you.

As the night went on, you caught sight of Natasha entering the bar. Her presence was impossible to miss; she exuded an aura of authority and elegance even in a crowded, lively place like this. Her eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, you felt a thrill of excitement. However, you quickly noticed a flicker of something darker in her gaze—jealousy, perhaps, or possessiveness.

Before you could fully process it, Natasha made her way through the crowd, her expression set and unreadable. She reached the bar and, without a second thought, grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the counter. The abruptness of her actions caught you off guard, and for a moment, the noise of the bar faded into the background.

You stood your ground, pulling your arm free from her grip. Natasha's eyes bore into yours, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down; this was your space, your job, and you weren't about to let anyone, not even her, dictate your actions here.

"This is my job," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. "This pays my bills. I know what I'm doing, Tasha. Don't think I'm gonna change just because you've walked into my life."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Natasha's expression softened slightly, her initial anger giving way to a more thoughtful look. She seemed to consider your words, her eyes searching yours for understanding.

After a beat, Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded. "I understand," she finally said, her voice calmer. "I just... I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I do."

You couldn't help but smile at her admission, a warmth spreading through you. "They can look all they want," you replied with a playful wink. "But that doesn't mean they get to touch."

Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Fair enough," she conceded, her tone lightening. She leaned in, her voice low and intimate. "But don't be surprised if I get a little protective. I can't help it."

You chuckled, the tension between you easing. "As long as you remember that I can handle myself," you teased, leaning closer. "Besides, it's fun making them think they have a chance."

Natasha smirked, her hand brushing against your arm in a subtle, reassuring gesture. "You're something else, you know that?" she murmured, her eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and affection.

With that, she released you, letting you return to your work. You felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had stood your ground and asserted your independence. As you went back to serving drinks and entertaining the crowd, you caught Natasha watching you from the corner of your eye.

As the night began to wind down, the usual chaos of closing time set in. Patrons stumbled out, leaving behind a mix of laughter and lingering energy. You were busy behind the bar when a particularly drunk guy decided to try his luck, getting handsy in a way that made your skin crawl. Before Natasha could even react, your reflexes kicked in. With a swift motion, you pulled out a small knife from under the bar and slammed it down between the man's fingers. The blade glinted in the dim light, the threat unmistakable.

"Try that again, and you won't just be losing a finger," you warned, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. The man froze, his eyes widening in fear as he registered the seriousness of your tone. The reality of the situation must have hit him hard, as his face paled, and he turned his head to vomit beside him.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated by the mess. "Buck! Clean up, please!" you called out. Bucky, your coworker and the bar's bouncer, quickly stepped in, escorting the stumbling man out while one of the busboys hurried over to clean up the mess. You wiped down the counter, your expression cool and unbothered, as if this was just another night on the job.

Natasha, who had been observing the scene from a distance, made her way over, leaning against the bar with a smirk playing on her lips. You sauntered over, mirroring her posture as you leaned in close. Her eyes were darker than usual, stormy like a spring day brewing with tension and excitement.

"That was hot. I didn't think you were capable of something like that," Natasha's voice was husky, laced with admiration and a hint of surprise.

You chuckled softly, the sound low and confident. "I used to work in a dive bar before this. I learned how to defend myself. I don't even blink at it anymore," you replied, a lithe confidence in your voice. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss. "I've just gotta grab my tips and count the drawer, and then I am all yours, Tasha," you murmured, a smirk playing on your lips as you pulled away.

The effect you had on Natasha was palpable, and the realization sent a thrill through you. She, the mob boss and infamous Black Widow, was visibly affected by your confidence and composure. The power dynamic between you was complex, a thrilling dance of control and attraction that neither of you could resist. As you moved to finish your tasks, you couldn't help but glance back at her, catching the hungry look in her eyes. It was clear that the night was far from over, and you both knew it.

As the night drew to a close, you finished up your duties behind the bar, efficiently counting the drawer and gathering your tips. The room was clearing out, leaving behind the quiet hum of a few lingering patrons and the soft clinking of glasses being cleaned. Natasha waited patiently, her eyes never leaving you, an enigmatic smile on her lips. The air between you crackled with unspoken promises and an undeniable connection.

Once everything was settled, you slipped out from behind the bar and walked over to Natasha. Without a word, she extended her hand, and you took it, feeling the warmth of her touch. The two of you left the bar, stepping into the cool night air. The drive to her mansion was quiet, filled with a charged silence that spoke volumes. You could feel the anticipation building, both of you eager for what was to come.

Back at her luxurious home, the door barely closed behind you before Natasha's lips were on yours, a passionate kiss that left you breathless. The power she usually wielded so effortlessly seemed to dissipate as she melted into you, her hands gripping your hips with a mix of need and vulnerability. You pulled away gently, looking into her eyes with a commanding intensity that made her shiver.

"Let me take control tonight," you whispered, your voice steady and confident. Natasha nodded, her gaze softening with trust and submission. It was a rare sight, seeing the formidable Black Widow willing to relinquish control, and it filled you with a sense of responsibility and power. You guided her to the bedroom, your movements assured and deliberate.

The night unfolded with a new dynamic. Natasha, always in control, allowed herself to be vulnerable, letting you take the lead. It was an intimate, tender exchange, a dance where you set the rhythm, and she followed. The shift in power felt natural, something both of you needed. For Natasha, it was a chance to let go of the burdens of leadership and dominance, to simply feel and be taken care of. For you, it was an opportunity to assert yourself, to embrace the power and control you often kept in check.

Afterward, you lay together in the quiet of her bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. You held Natasha in your arms, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. It was a serene moment, a quiet intimacy that spoke of trust and understanding.

Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and earnest. "Stay with me," she said, lifting her head to look at you. Her eyes searched yours, vulnerable and hopeful. "I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight, but... longer. Let me take care of you, treat you right. I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you."

Her words were filled with sincerity, and you could see the depth of her feelings in her gaze. It wasn't just a simple request; it was a promise, a commitment. Natasha, who always seemed so self-assured and in control, was offering you a piece of her heart, opening herself up in a way few ever got to see.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice warm and tender. "I want to stay with you, Natasha."

A smile spread across her lips, genuine and full of relief. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, a silent agreement sealed with affection. As you held her close, you both knew this was just the beginning of something deeper, something real. It was a new chapter, a chance to explore a relationship built on mutual respect, trust, and love.

In that quiet moment, wrapped in each other's arms, you both felt a sense of peace and fulfillment. Natasha had found someone she could trust to take control when needed, and you had found a place where you could be both strong and cherished. It was a perfect balance, a harmony that promised a future full of possibilities. As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[ashasdiary]

Five Margaritas, Five Senses

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader

Synopsis: You enjoy a night out with your girlfriends. You all get enamoured with a dark haired bartender. Gojo gets jealous so naturally, he has to remind you whose you are. 

CW: drinking, alcohol, established relationship, jealous Gojo, possessive Gojo, smut — unprotected sex, drunk sex, overstimulation, creampie, dacryphilia if you squint WC: 5.9k A/N: loosely based off of my own shenanigans. still steaming from last night as I write this 😹 ENJOY <3

You were drunk. 

There was no denying it.

You’d all but downed your first three margaritas, had inhaled a strawberry daiquiri, were halfway through your fourth margarita and had every intention of getting some shots after. 

You found your body moving on its own accord to the groove of the music that was playing in the bar, hands in the air, hips swaying without a care in the world as you danced. 

Your two friends, Shoko and Utahime cheered as you danced, getting up from the booth to join you. 

Your third friend, Suki, walked into the room: a cute little secluded spot with pink fur on the walls, a disco ball shining in the corner, and plush seating, drinks in hand. 

“Guys! There was a bartender that just started his shift, he was soooo handsome!” She tries to set down the two cocktails carefully on the table but a little spills from the sides. “Go and get more drinks and you’ll see him!” 

Suki’s insistence for you all to see this handsome bartender doesn’t so much faze you because there are handsome bartenders everywhere. Utahime’s interest however is piqued slightly so she dances away from the group with a laugh to Suki, “Let me get another cocktail and see some eye candy.”

Suki draws her away for couple of minutes as you and Shoko keep dancing and giggling together. Utahime comes back to the room with her drink, squealing in excitement to you and Shoko, “You have to see him! He was so freaking pretty!” 

Utahime is quite the character so her reaction was not out of the ordinary. Shoko twirls you under your joined arms and grins, “I’ll go get some shots for us.”

Shoko sashays away to the bar, leaving you to finish your fourth margarita. You set down the empty glass and you giggle, twirling around, the music taking control of your body. 

“Is Gojo picking you up later?” Suki asks as she slings her arms around your neck, swaying with you.

“Mhm…he said he’d come at 11 so we can get an early night,” you smile at the mention of your boyfriend, the blush on your cheeks deepening a little. 

“You lovebirds…make me sick,” Suki laughs and she pinches your cheek. 

Shoko comes back to the room, wide eyed, a tray of shots in hand as she calls your name, “They weren’t lying. That bartender is fucking beautiful.”

“My goodness, you three, relax! There’s beautiful people everywhere!” You spin on your heel and stumble a little, Utahime catching you. 

“I do want another drink though. So I will be back shortly,” you nod, earning a couple of snickers from them. 

You stroll over to the bar and lean over it, waiting to be served. There was a man with his hair gathered up in a little man bun, crouched down tending to the fridge on the other side, so his back was to you. He stands and straightens up and turns towards you and stops when he sees you. “Hi,” he greets you, voice velvet smooth and brown eyes twinkling, “what can I get for you?”

You just blink at him for a moment. The alcohol already in your system was slowing things down considerably but you were in awe of just how beautiful this man was. How the strand of hair that he had loose was framing his face perfectly. You don’t usually get shy, either, but words were lost on you for a second. “Hi…” you manage to smile, “can I get a vodka lemonade please?” 

“Playin’ it safe, huh,” he chuckles, rolling up his sleeves and in the low light of the bar your eyes fall to the dark ink adorned on his skin. It was so intricate and detailed, nothing like you’d ever seen before. You watch him move around the bar and start to make your drink in the mixer bottle so effortlessly, and you suddenly come to yourself and realise that you’d been holding your breath this entire time. 

“Can’t go wrong with a vodka lemonade,” you breathe out, and his gaze locks with yours, a smirk on his pretty lips. That’s when you realise you’d taken your sweet time in responding and you blush as you fumble to occupy your hands with something, settling on the chain of your belt. 

“I saw your friend over there get some shots. Have you ever tried a baby guinness?” He decorates your vodka lemonade with a small sprig of mint on top and gently pushes it toward you, leaning on the bar and coming closer to you. 

“I can’t say that I have,” you answer, and you clear your throat, your hand absentmindedly coming to play with the straw in your drink. 

“I’ll make you one to try. On me,” he gives you a grin and holds your gaze longer than he should have before he looks away to find the bottles of Irish cream and coffee liqueur.

Placing a shot glass in front of you, he is mesmerising as he makes the drink carefully so that the Irish cream doesn’t sink into the liqueur. He gestures to the smaller glass and gives you a playful smile. 

“Have a try. I bet you’ll like it.” 

His voice…oh, his voice. It’s so smooth and so deep that it rumbles through his chest, the tone of it something sublime. It’s a voice that you could fall asleep to from how soothing it was. 

You take the shot glass between your fingers and hold it up, “Salud,” and he lets out a chuckle right before you knock it back. You were expecting a burn, because it’s a shot after all, but were surprisingly greeted with the soft touch of what genuinely tasted like chocolate.

“Oh my god, that was divine,” you tell him excitedly, “can I get 4 more?”

He grins at you, “I told you you’d enjoy it. But sure. We do table service. You go enjoy your vodka lemonade and I’ll bring 4 more to your table in a minute.”

“Thank you…” you gaze at him, unable to look away, “sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“I’m Geto,” he gives you a friendly smile and holds your gaze and it continues on until you get bashful and look down at your hands. 

“Thank you, Geto. I’ll see you in a minute,” you grab your vodka lemonade and shuffle away from the bar as fast as your legs would allow, not looking back because you know in your drunken state you’re extra playful and extra daring. 

The three girls were talking and giggling and sipping on their drinks when you came in and they all turn to you as you sit down among them. “I hate to admit that you were all right,” you take a quick sip of your drink, “he was unbelievable. None of you even saw his tattoos! And I really don’t know why, but I asked for his name, too.”

“He has tattoos—?”

“His name—?!”

“What w—?”

“And,” you interrupt the chiming of your friends, “he gave me this delicious chocolate tasting shot, for free.”

That admissions sends them into a frenzy, Utahime grabbing at your thigh, Suki falling back onto the sofa, and Shoko spluttering on her drink. Granted, their reactions were exaggerated what with the state of drunkenness you were all in. 

“And when I walk in all that I wanna hear…is you say daddy’s home…home for me,” you all hear the familiar voice of Gojo singing as he strolls into the pink room and he snorts at just how pink it is.

“Look who it is,” Shoko giggles and you smile widely when you see him. 

He walks on over, giving Suki, Utahime, and Shoko brief hugs in greeting before he reaches you, bright blue eyes twinkling. “Hi, baby. I missed ya.”

“Hi, my love, I missed you as well,” you give him a drunk smile and make grabby hands to him and he chuckles, plopping himself next to you and pulls your legs over his lap while leaning in to give you a kiss. You drape your arms around his neck and settle against him comfortably. 

“Havin’ fun, hm?” He asks. 

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Suki answers him before you can, and all three girls laugh. 

You sip on your drink until you hear the air being sucked from the straw, signalling its emptiness. Gojo gently takes the empty glass from you and places it down on the table. 

“I’m glad that you’ve been enjoying yourselves. I’ve gotta get all of you home soon, don’t I?” He says and Shoko and Utahime groan. 

“Absolutely not. I got us more shots!” You tell him and he raises a brow, gaze falling onto the empty shot glasses on the table. “Those were…Shoko, were they yours? Yeah, she got some jolly rancher shots before but the ones I got are so delicious, literally like chocol—“

“Knock knock,” you all hear that captivatingly deep voice from the doorway of the room and you all look up to see Geto, tray of shots in hand. Everyone falls quiet as he waltzes in, placing the baby guinness shots down and collecting the empty glasses. From the girls’ silence, you know that they’re all just drinking him in, admiring his tattoos and his full frame. “You have your beautiful friend here to thank for these,” he nods towards you and you blink at him, cheeks blushing crimson red when he winks at you and throws you a smile. “Enjoy your night,” his gazes trails over all five of you in the room before he leaves. 

The girls stay silent as they watch the dark haired man exit the room and turn to look at you, then at Gojo.

“Uh oh,” Suki breaks the silence when she notes that Gojo isn’t smiling anymore. “Gojo, you good?”

He’s quiet for a moment, completely still as he replays what just happened in front of him and then looks to you. “I’m actually shocked at the audacity of that man to flirt with her seeing the way that she’s draped over me like this,” he says and your fingers play with the soft hair at the back of his head. 

“It happens, dude, relax,” Shoko says and she gets up and hands around the shots, skipping Gojo as he is the dedicated carer for the evening. 

“Geto’s very nice, he wasn’t flirting,” you find yourself saying matter of factly through your drunken state, and this makes Gojo’s brows furrow together. 

“You’re on a first name basis already?” He lets out a dry laugh. 

“He just gave me his name before, that’s all,” you shrug and the girls all hold up their shot glasses, and you follow suit. 

“To being smart and sexy!” Shoko says and you all repeat it before downing the shots. 

“That was quite a pleasant shot actually, everyone say thank you,” Utahime comments and stands up to dance again. Shoko and Suki follow suit, all three enjoying the rhythm as they dance. 

“My smart and sexy girlfriend has been quite the minx tonight, then,” Gojo’s lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he caresses your jaw and kisses your temple. 

“I had…” you start giggling uncontrollably, head falling back as you hold onto his neck, “I had like five margaritas. Have you heard that song?” You ask Gojo but Suki is quick to respond. 

“Give me one margarita, imma open my legs!” She sings and drops into a squat, opening her legs. 

“Give me two margaritas, imma give you some head,” Shoko sings.

“Give me three margaritas, imma put it in my puss—“ you add and laugh as Gojo pushes his finger over your lips to quieten you and the girls all giggle, holding onto each other so they don’t fall over. 

“Give me four margaritas, imma put it in my tush!” Utahime is quick to add, and all four of you sing the next line in unison as Gojo sits and watches, shaking his head as he tries not to laugh.

“GIVE ME FIVE MARGARITAS, IMMA HAVE SOME FUN!” All of you burst out in uncontrollable laughter, tears in your eyes. 

“Alright, gang, I think you have all had plenty of fun tonight and you should all get home and recharge your batteries,” Gojo announces and is met with a chorus of ‘aw’s. “C’mon now. Get your things, ladies, we don’t want to leave anything behind.”

You stay wrapped around him for a moment, breathing him in, kissing his neck, playing with his hands, “I was really enjoying myself tonight so I’m sad we’re going home but I also love when you get all…authoritative,” you tell him and he smirks down at you. 

“I know you do,” he tells you quietly and you bite your lip as you gaze at each other. He steals a quick kiss before you get up and grab your coat and bag from the corner, overwhelmed all of a sudden by the urge to pee. 

“Oh, god, I need to pee. I’ll be right back,” you walk — not in a straight line — out of the room and towards the restrooms which thankfully weren’t far. It’s a unisex bathroom with the toilets in individual spaces. You lock the door once you get in and shove down your tights and underwear, holding up your skirt as you feel the relief of an empty bladder. You sigh and then smile to yourself, reading the scribbles on the walls. There’s always some clarity gained upon reading the writing on the walls of a bar toilet while drunk. 

Once you’re finished, you fix your clothes and go to head out but come out of the toilet and crash into a large, firm chest. “Oh!” 

The large, firm chest of the dark haired man. Geto. 

“Careful, there, shortcake,” that silky smooth voice….his gentle hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady…the soft twinkle of his brown eyes. Jesus, he’s mesmerising. He lets go of your arms as you blink at him, again. Shortcake? 

“Sorry about that,” you say quickly. 

“You’re fine,” he reassures you. “I’ll see you later.“

He turns and disappears around the corner. See you later? You go and wash your hands and try to think. Why would he see you later? Was he flirting? 

You dry your hands with the paper towel and check yourself in the mirror before you exit, making your way back to the pink room, but it was empty. The heck? Where had they all gone? You look around for them, but can’t find them in your vicinity. You walk around the bar slowly, scanning through the crowd of people, unsuccessfully. You huff to yourself. They can’t have just left you, especially not Gojo. 

You stand in the middle of the bar, trying to find a familiar face, until you do, but it’s not the familiar face you were hoping for. “Geto!” You call out to him as he’s walking back to the bar. 

“Hi again, shortcake,” he smiles softly, “saw you sooner than I thought. You okay?”

You swallow upon hearing the use of that nickname he’d chosen for you. It made sense. He was tall. You were not. “I…yeah, I’m okay. Did you see where my friends went, by any chance?”

“Yeah. Come with me,” he nods his head to the side and holds out his hand for you, which you don’t think too much about taking because in a crowd of people, it’s easy to get lost. 

When your hand slips into his, it’s warm and gentle, and he envelopes your hand as he leads you to the bar. You feel a flush on your cheeks at the touch. 

On your approach to the bar, you see your boyfriend’s white hair peeking out in the crowd. They were at the bar, paying off the tab. Of course. Geto leads you to the group and taps Gojo on the shoulder to inform him of your arrival. 

“Make sure this beautiful lady doesn’t get lost again,” Geto tells him, and Gojo eyes how he’s holding your hand. 

“Thanks,” Gojo replies curtly, staring daggers at the other man. Geto releases your hand and heads back behind the bar. The girls are all wide eyed trying to stifle their giggles. 

“Baby, we told you we were going to come pay off the tab. How’d you get lost?” Gojo asks you, arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him. 

“I didn’t hear you guys say that,” you whine and rest your forehead against his chest. He kisses the crown of your head. 

“It’s okay. Tab’s paid now. Let’s go home,” he squeezes you gently as he gathers your friends. 

“Good night, Geto!” Suki waves enthusiastically at the bartender and blows him a kiss. 

“Suki!” Shoko hisses, pulling Suki’s arm down. 

The sound of Geto’s laugh reaches your ears, “Good night, ladies. Hope you had a great evening.”

You find yourself smiling over at Geto before Gojo moves to block your view with a deadpan look, “Home time.”

“We’re just saying bye,” Utahime sighs dreamily. 

It takes some effort but finally, all 5 of you are buckled in Gojo’s fancy car, with you curled up in the front. He begins the drive to Suki’s place which is closest, and when he drops her off, he goes up with her to make sure she gets in safely. 

You love how thoughtful he is, taking his time to ensure their wellbeing with each stop. Utahime was next, and then Shoko, and then…there were two. 

You laze in the seat, fumbling with the buttons and making the seat lie back, trying to get your mind off of the urge to pee. 

“I need to pee again,” you tell him and he reaches over and caresses your knee. 

“We’re almost home, sweetheart,” he says, putting his foot down on the accelerator a little more. 

“Hm…my pretty man,” you gaze at him, enjoying the view of his side profile, soft white hair framing it. He glances over with an enthused expression and before he can reply, you reach over to cup his jaw. “So pretty it hurts.”

“No need to flatter me, sweetness. Not when you’re as beautiful as you are. I can’t wait to see what our kids will look like,” he says the last sentence more to himself, but you hear it, and it makes your heart skip a beat as he turns his head to kiss your palm. And for some reason, that same sentence makes your pussy awaken from its slumber. 

You stay quiet, letting him take your hand in his, fingers interlacing with yours. Your mind races for a minute, thinking of everything Gojo has done this evening. For a moment, the acknowledgement of each action — picking you up, protecting you and your friends, taking care of you and your friends, paying the tab, driving your friends home and making sure they get in safely — leads to gratitude of having such a thoughtful, considerate, perfect man being yours. But that gratitude quickly transforms and only adds to your growing arousal. You almost forgot how horny you get when you’re drunk. 

It’s not long before he’s pulling into the garage and parking the car, cutting the engine. The single act of him turning the steering wheel with his palm makes your pussy purr and you try to ignore the wetness that’s accumulating at your core. He gets out and walks around, opening the door and scooping you up into his arms. You let out a little squeal in happiness as he carries you all the way and inside your shared abode, a nice penthouse with the most breathtaking views of Tokyo. 

Once inside, he toes off his shoes, gently pulling off yours and letting them fall with small thuds on the floor by the door. He carries you still and sets you down in the bathroom, where you keep your arms around his neck and smoothly pull him into a kiss. 

When you break apart, he makes sure that you’re steady since alcohol is still surging through your bloodstream. “Pee. Wash up. And I’ll get you some water and your pajamas.”

He washes his hands quickly and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You try to go about your night routine as best as your drunk and horny brain would allow you to. 

Gojo had every intention of taking care of you this evening, he really, truly did. He wanted to tend to you, cuddle you, love on you, and make sure you were hangover free tomorrow morning. But there was something inside him that he simply could not ignore. The fiery flames of jealousy were ignited within him. Hand in hand with his possessiveness, oh, it was a lethal combination on his hands. 

He did as he promised, getting you a glass of water, some painkillers, and your pajamas, setting them neatly on the night stand and the bed, respectively. He slips out of his outside clothes as he waits for you, pulling on a cotton t-shirt and foregoing any pants. 

You emerge from the bathroom, having haphazardly pulled your hair up and put it in place with a claw clip, and stripped down to your underwear. “My tummy hurts a little.”

“You didn’t eat anything yet, sweetheart. You want me to get you some food? I can make you a sandwich,” he offers, moving around the bed to get you the water and painkillers, handing it to you. You take them and drink the water to wash them down, still a little dazed, but the more you look at him, the more you want to pounce on him. 

“M’not hungry,” you tell him and he circles his arm around your waist loosely. 

“Maybe not now, but you will be in…” he turns and looks at the clock on the wall, and turns back to you, “half an hour.”

“That’s specific,” you laugh a little. Your arms slip up around his neck, finding their place there. “Are you in my stomach keeping watch of how much food is in there?”

“I can be in your guts if you want me to be,” he smirks, and you snort at this. “You should know I’m setting myself a time limit,” he nods in all seriousness. 

“For?” Your inquiry lit the fuse in him. 

You dared to ask?

His eyes flash with mischief as he gazes at you, his hold on you tightening, pulling your hips flush against his. 

“To remind you whose you are,” his voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, lips ghosting by yours.

Your brain takes a moment to register. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Of course he’d gotten jealous of that bartender. Of course he had. You should have sooner realised this but in your hazy mind, it had slipped. 

“Satoru…” you press yourself against him, showing that you’re eager for him, wanting him, needing him. He knows, of course, he knows how you can get disgustingly horny when you’re drunk, so he’d perfectly orchestrated the last hour with that in mind. 

“My beautiful girl…” he brings a hand up to cup your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek as he gazes into your eyes so intensely you feel like he’s seeing the depths of your soul. “You are. You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmurs, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. 

“Satoru…I know I’m yours,” you whine softly, giving into your carnal desires, “please…I need you right now.”

He fucking loves when he has you begging for him like this. 

“Aw, my sweet girl needs me, huh,” he hums, bringing his lips to yours. You eagerly press your tongue against the seam of his lips and he instantly parts them to tangle his tongue with yours in a filthy kiss. 

Taste.

He debates on edging you, making you beg for it, but he decides that the best method right now is to consume all of your senses to the point of overwhelm. He wants you to cry. 

He walks you the half a metre over to the bed and breaks the kiss to pick you up and place you by the pillows. 

He kneels in front of you and pulls off his shirt in one movement, something which makes you stupidly excited. 

Sharing another dirty kiss, your lips are locked and he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and pull it away. At the same time, you push off your underwear and toss it to the side. 

“Show me how wet you are,” he requests, warm hand rubbing the outside of your knee as he sits back a little. You part your legs for him and bring your hand to your centre, drawing your fingers up and down through your folds, spreading the wetness around easily. God, he loved your pretty pussy. He loved her even more when she was dripping wet like she was now. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing. He has to free himself from the confines so he quickly and deftly gets his boxers off, kicking them to the side. 

“She’s cryin’ for me,” he purrs, smirking a little, “Who got you this wet, baby?” He brings his fingers to your folds and teases them alongside your own. You shudder when he circles your sensitive clit. 

Touch. 

“Y-you, Satoru, only you.” 

“That’s right, sweetness. Tell me again,” he hums. 

“Only you can get me this wet,” you sigh, and you go to circle your entrance with your middle fingers and dip them inside but he stops you. 

“Ah ah…I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. C’mere.” He slips a strong arm under your waist and lifts you easily, and your legs automatically lock around his hips as he switches the position, lying back against the pillows and perching you on top of him.

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean down to kiss him again, “Mmm…I love this view.”

“Mine’s better,” he quips, leaning his head up to kiss all over one of your breasts, teasing your nipple with his tongue. 

His hands roam up over your back and you find your hips moving on their own accord, grinding your folds over his hard length. Your wetness coats him and he groans against you, one hand gripping your hip and the other swiftly reaching down to guide his cock into you.  

Your head falls back as you feel the tip push past your entrance. He’s slipping inside you easily from how wet you are, but your walls weren’t ready to be stretched out so suddenly. He keeps pushing in, pressing his hips up, until he’s bottomed out inside you completely. You bite your lip and let out a soft whine from just how full you feel with him inside you. “S—ah…Toru…I…” you can’t formulate any coherent words in this moment, so you stop trying. You can’t think, because all that’s in your head right now is the thought of him stuffing you full of his cock. 

Satoru doesn’t like to rush, so he allows you a moment to adjust to him, because the last thing he wants is for you to be hurt. He gently guides your hips to rock back and forth and you start to do it on your own, gasping when you feel the fullness again. 

“Who’s got you full of his cock, baby? Huh?” He asks, a smugness in his tone. 

“Y-you,” you muster, rolling your hips in gradually bigger circles. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises you, letting you take the reins, his hands resting on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh. Your walls adjust to him relatively quickly and you lean forward, bouncing your hips on him faster, pussy gripping his cock tighter each time you sink down onto him. “Fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, cupping your face to bring your lips to his. 

“Mmm…Toru, I’m close…” you moan out against him, making him groan to your lips. 

“Not yet,” he tells you, and you feel your walls clench at the sound of his authoritative tone. You slow down your hips a little and pant softly as you continue to ride him slower. 

In a flash of white, he’s snaked his arm around your hips and flipped you onto your back, slipping out of you in the process. Your legs dangle up in the air as you blink at him and catch your breath a bit. 

He gives no warning as he takes control and slides into you again, all the way home, and you keen from the perfection of his dick fitting so wonderfully inside you. His pubic bone teases your clit and your eyes almost roll into the back of your head as he draws his hips back and fucks into you again, but harder. 

You feel his balls slap against your ass each time he ruts his hips into yours and you are rendered speechless from the feeling of his cock pounding into you. 

Your brain is overcome with emotion from a combination of not being able to articulate any words and the way he’s fucking you senseless, and you find tears pricking your eyes and filling your vision. 

You try to blink them away and avoid eye contact by looking down to watch the way he fits so smoothly inside you, but this only overwhelms your senses more. 

Sight. 

Your back arches, a whine falling from your lips which quickly turns into a breathless moan of his name. 

“Baby…you cryin’?” He coos, leaning down and resting his body weight on yours, continuing to fuck his cock into your heat. 

“M-m…” your lip trembles as you cry, the tears rolling along the side of your face as your legs quake. You try to ground yourself, bringing a shaky hand up around his back, feeling the way his muscles are tensing, but it’s no use. 

You feel the imminence of your orgasm as the pressure increases, your walls tightening, making it harder for him to keep pounding into you the way he was. But he doesn’t let up. He keeps going, knowing all too well the signs your body was giving him. He reaches between you, pressing his thumb to your clit, teasing it, circling it. 

You gasp for breath, shallowly, your heart racing, the sound of your wetness accentuating the way your hips were colliding. 

Sound. 

You had made a complete mess of yourself, him, and the bed, but your senses were so overwhelmed by him that you didn’t even notice. 

With each pump of his cock into you, you’re pushed closer and closer to the edge. Your body cannot hold up for another second, the tension having built up so forcefully that it’s sudden; your body releases, the orgasm washing over your entire body and causing you to let out a sound that’s partly a moan and partly a cry. Your walls clench so tightly around Satoru’s cock that it pulls a strangled groan from him, his deep pants only adding to the high of your orgasm. 

He slows down, rocking his hips into yours now and riding you through it as your walls clench less. But he doesn’t stop. 

You tremble under him as you feel the heavy drag of him sliding in and out of your gummy walls. “You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” he praises, and you choke out a soft cry as you melt into the sheets. “Shh…I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

His soft voice contrasts with the harsh plunge of his cock deep into you and he begins to fuck you relentlessly once again. Your body had not fully recovered from your first orgasm, yet your second was fast approaching. Feeling overwhelmed and quickly becoming overstimulated, you try to inhale deeply to steady your mind but the delicious scent of his sweat and his pheromones takes over your nose. 

Smell. 

That was it. The final sense, unlocked, consumed in full. Every single cell in your body is consumed by him. Your brain begins to shut down, very well and truly cockdrunk, and he can see this, how he’s got you putty in his hands, senses so gone that you’ve been rendered speechless and become his fuck toy. 

He brings his fingers to your cheek and caresses it softly, “Talk to me, sweetness… wanna hear you.”

His soft coaxing stirs something to life inside you and you feel like you’d been outside of your body for a moment and had come crashing back into it and into this moment. 

“I’m gonna come,” you rasp out. You let out a gasp when you feel the emptiness of your walls when he slips out of you, stopping the tension that was building in its tracks. 

He loves having control, the power, it’s something he gets off on. So when he grabs your legs and pushes them back, folding you in half, you find yourself starting to cry once more. Not from discomfort, nor from sadness, just from pure overwhelm. 

“Toru,” you cry his name and he lets out a low grunt at how fucking sexy you sound. 

“Give me one more, sweet girl,” he dips his head to lock his lips with yours in a long kiss and all you can do is nod through your tears as he slips into you again. 

He’s quick to return to his previous pace, rough, deep, making sure you feel every single ridge of his cock inside you. You felt everything more now because of the new position, and you cling onto the pillow as you feel the tension building fast.

“I-I…I’m close, Toru,” you whine out and you sit up a little, mustering whatever strength you had left in that moment to pull him down to kiss you. With his lips on yours in a bruising kiss, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your swollen clit, and his cock pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, you’re tipped over the edge into the throes of bliss, breathless moans being drawn from you. You feel the rush of your second release wash over your body, this one stronger and more prominent than the first, every nerve ending in your body on fire. 

Satoru’s hips stutter at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him so tightly, and he tries to hold off but he doesn’t know if he can. He kisses you again, and again, finding a steady pace as he allows you to catch your breath for a moment. “Come for me,” you whisper to his lips, and it catches him off guard slightly, but he wasn’t ready for what you said next, “come in me.”

He groans your name deeply, rutting his hips roughly into yours a few more times until his orgasm takes hold of him, hot streams of cum being released into you and painting your walls. He slows to a stop and then lies on top of you, closing his eyes as he enjoys the high. Your hand threads through his soft hair, and you run your fingers through it gently, both of your bodies are covered in a sheen of sweat as you pant for breath. 

“You definitely sobered me up,” you let out a breathless, tired laugh. 

He looks up at you, giving you a languid kiss, staying connected and in your arms. 

“I had to mark my territory,” he shrugs and you flick his arm. “What? I had to remind you that you’re all mine, and always will be,” he smirks. 

 The phrase ‘fucked your brains out’ had found a whole new meaning, because, fuck, did he. 

~

Do not copy or translate my work.

© ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

[noyasmashing]

Daichi getting dommed by his girlfriend?! Since he's in the police maybe his girlfriend is a detective or some form of government official that works with the police all the tine!!!

★ BAD BOY. daichi!

౨ৎ :: masterlist. reblogs are appreciated.

• warning: daichi + fem!dom reader, male penetration/fingering, mommy kink, cum eating, daichi has the “asian flush”

Daichi really wasn’t the one to drink. Actually, he shouldn’t be drinking. He lacked the enzyme that broke down alcohol once consumed. He wasn't suited for it, plain and simple. However, there were exceptions to his rule.

More often than not, he found himself holding a drink at parties, and tonight was no different. After months of tireless investigation, the combined efforts of the police officers and detectives had finally paid off, solving a particularly complex case. As a well-deserved reward, the team decided to treat themselves to a celebratory night out. They reserved a cozy private room at a highly-regarded restaurant, famous for its exceptional craft cocktails.

Their boss, in a thoughtful gesture, had arranged for everyone's drinks to be pre-ordered and paid for, ensuring that the team could relax and enjoy each other's company without worrying about the bill.

Daichi's concern about his metabolic issue flared up as he was handed a cold drink. However he disregarded it. After all, it was only natural that he felt compelled to partake, he didn’t want to seem stuck up, or rude. He started out with small sips, attempting to feign enjoyment.

No one had even noticed, he had gone almost the entirety of the party without even finishing half. Fortunately, everyones attention was diverted by a heartfelt speech from their respected superior officer, acknowledging the team's hard work and dedication.

As the party continued, Daichi's attention was divided between the celebratory speech and your persistent touch. Initially, the gentle rubbing of his thigh was a reflexive response to his coworkers' congratulations. But as the atmosphere mellowed, your hand remained, sending sparks of sensation through his body. The fleeting touches near his upper thigh were maddening, making him feel like he was losing control.

You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you throughout the night, his eyes drawn to the subtle details of your attire - the short skirt, the blouse that teased just enough to hint at what lay beneath. It was clear you were deliberately drawing attention to yourself, and Daichi couldn't help but be captivated by your presence.

“Shall we take care of your issue in the bathroom?” you whispered in Daichi's ear, your voice dripping with teasing intent.

As he tried to maintain a stoic expression, you couldn't help but giggle at his failed attempt to hide his emotions. His temples flexed in frustration as he remained silent, his grip on your hand tightening under the table.

“You know we can’t do that.” He reasoned, tuning to meet your gaze, just for a moment.

You purred out, “Suit yourself,” in response, your eyes never leaving his face. Before smoothly turning to another detective and launching into a conversation about a different case you were working on together.

Daichi turned to look at his own friends, but struggled to process any of their words, his mind consumed by a maelstrom of inappropriate thoughts. In a desperate attempt to shake off the tormenting sensations and clear his mind, Daichi turned his attention to his drink, downing the remaining contents of his glass with a swift motion. The sudden rush of liquid warmth doing little to calm his racing thoughts.

As he struggled to clear the unpleasant aftertaste of his previous drink, Daichi's eyes fluttered open to find the group surrounding him, refilling their glasses.

Before he could process the situation, the room erupted into a chorus of cheers and toasts, and someone was pressing another glass into his hand. With a sense of obligation, Daichi reluctantly accepted the offering, not wanting to be rude or spoil the celebratory atmosphere. As he added the new drink to his already-lively mix, Daichi couldn't help but lament the fact that he had now consumed two cocktails.

As the surprise toast came to a close, the room began to empty out, with many people saying their goodbyes and departing the restaurant. Daichi noticed your growing impatience, and he felt his own unease mounting. He tried to sound nonchalant as he suggested, "Uh, m-maybe we should get going?" His words were laced with a subtle sense of desperation.

Your hand had been resting on his knee for a moment, but then it drifted away, your gaze flicking to your watch as if checking the time.

You nodded curtly, responding with a, "About time," and turning your attention back to him. "Do you have the keys?" you asked, your tone tinged with a hint of concern as you took in his flushed appearance. Without argument, Daichi handed over the keys, preparing to bid farewell to his coworkers and make a hasty exit.

As you both rose from your seats, Daichi's hand instinctively reached out and grasped the back of your jacket, his fingers digging in slightly as he struggled to steady himself. The sudden movement left him feeling lightheaded, and his face flushed with embarrassment as he realized his mistake. You, however, merely raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a chuckle, indulging in a discreet caress of his backside as you did so.

You were well aware that Daichi was one of those people who didn't handle his liquor well, and the signs were all too clear. "It was nice seeing you, Chief," you said with a charming smile, shaking his hand firmly as you bid him farewell. Daichi nodded mutely, his eyes fixed on yours with a mixture of fear and distraction as your wandering hand continued its gentle exploration of his body. He was too intimidated to say anything, too preoccupied with the sensation of your touch to speak up.

Once you two were out of the restaurant the cool night air hit Daichi like a train. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps, and he stumbled slightly as he walked to the car. “Why did I park so far away.” He groaned, facepalming when he remembered his decision from earlier that day.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, your voice low and concerned as you raised an eyebrow in inquiry. The crunch of gravel beneath your feet was the only sound breaking the silence as Daichi hesitated.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Daichi stammered, finally turning to face you with a flush rising up his cheeks.

You shot him a concerned glance. "Did you drink too much or something, Sawa? You're breathing heavier than normal," you remarked, wrapping your arm around his waist to steady him as you walked towards the car in the dimly lit parking lot.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I felt rude not drinking, and then...of course, there was you..." He trailed off, his words hanging in the air as you approached the car, the silence between you thickening like fog.

But before he could break free and make his way to the passenger seat, you pinned him against the sleek, freshly washed car you had purchased together. The new sedan's gleaming surface reflected the dim parking lot lights, creating a sense of intimacy as you leaned in, your breath warm against his ear.

"What about me?" you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "Don't tell me you were turned on in front of your coworkers." you cooed, your knee gliding up to nestle against his groin, the movement deliberate and sensual.

His breath hitched, and he found himself grasping onto your jacket with an anxious intensity. "So-so what if I was?" he questioned, his voice trembling as he felt his heart pounding in his ears, his body burning with a sudden, intense heat.

His eyes widened as you made the bold move of pulling open the second-row door, revealing the dark interior of the car. "I can't wait till we get home," you whispered, your voice low and seductive, "and I don't think you can either." With that, you guided him into the back seat, the motion smooth and deliberate.

The effects of the alcohol were plain to see on him once you sat down beside him. You could almost hear his racing heart, his face a deep crimson, and the most captivating sight of all was his ragged breathing, as if he'd run a mile.

It was the most intoxicatingly vulnerable you had ever seen him, and by God, it was incredibly attractive. Once you closed the door behind you both, your lips crashed together in a sloppy, frenzied kiss. One that was full of fervor and desperation on his part.

Without hesitation, you started to undo the buttons of his shirt. "I think you're going to need a little discipline for overindulging, don't you?" you whispered into his ear, taking a gentle moment to nip at the lobe.

He let out a soft moan, his head nodding in agreement as you spoke. His apologies tumbled out in a slurred, endearing manner. Daichi was typically contrite and apologetic for his mistakes, so it was unusual for him to receive punishment like this, it made him excited.

"Actually," you said, pulling back to gaze at him with a playful smile. His eyes, still glassy from the drink, met yours, and he stared at you with a dazed expression. "You know what? You're adorable when you're tipsy. Kinda like when I finish fucking your brains out.”

He felt his body flare with heat at your words. The only thing his mushy brain could get out was a “please!” His whole body starting to tremble with anticipation as the desire burned within him. Your words conjured vivid images in his mind, leaving him breathless and unsure of himself. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of emotions, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts: plead, sob, or surrender. Your gentle teasing was torturous, leaving him helpless and at your mercy.

"Please? What do you want, sawamura?" you asked, your tone softening as you reached out to gently push him down onto his forearms.

He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and wet lips. "F-fuck... fuck me.” he forced out, his breath catching in his throat as your hands ran gently along his chest, tracing the curve of his nipples.

“I don’t have my strap with me, darling.” You sighed, your hands tracing a gentle path along his torso. His abs contracted and relaxed, shifting beneath your touch. As you spoke, he let out a disappointed sob, his head tilting back in surrender.

“Don’t be greedy, my fingers will do just fine.” And with that, he was suddenly being flipped on all fours, his perky ass presented to you, the fabric of his clothes now inches from your face.

“Y-yes.. yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” He relented, arching his back in attempts to appease you. You released a contented hum, then unfastened his belt and slowly slid down the zipper of his dress pants.

As soon as his undergarments were removed, his throbbing cock sprang free, glistening with precum that dripped down onto his dress shirt, a rather unfortunate turn of events.

Not to mention his hole, which clenched in eager anticipation of whatever you had in store. Your initial move was to spit on it, which was fortunate, as you would have needed lubricant anyway. He let out a soft "Ahh" of pleasure, sinking deeper into position as he did so.

You leaned forward, your body pressed against his, as you guided two fingers into his mouth from behind. "Open," you commanded, and he complied.

He struggled to resist the urge to suck on your fingers as you roughly explored his tongue, making him gag. A muffled string of moans escaped his lips, accompanied by a gasp as you withdrew your fingers.

"I'm supposed to be punishing you," you scoffed, "but you're responding like this is some kind of reward." you added, scoldingly. You then proceeded to line your now-wet fingers with his tight hole.

"Relax," you instructed as your fingers slid into him. Ordinarily, you would have taken your time to ease him into it, inserting just one finger to begin with. But the circumstances didn't allow for that level of finesse. Instead, you established a rough and demanding pace, one that had him groaning and whimpering into his palm.

"Slow down!" he pleaded, his words slurred with a mixture of protest and pleasure. Despite his plea, his hips continued to move in tandem with your pace, practically fucking himself on your fingers.

You couldn't help but laugh at the drunken scene unfolding before you, one hand rising to make a harsh, stinging contact with his exposed ass. His skin was hot to the touch, and his entire body seemed to vibrate with excitement.

His light pants were now a canvas of moans, his cries of pleasure and pain mingling in a chorus of ecstasy. The stifling air in the car grew thick and heavy, the windows fogging up.

"I wonder how the team would react to seeing you like this," you sneered, your voice dripping with disdain. "Knowing that I fucked you in the back of your car, and you took it like a good slut."

You dug your fingers deeper, searching for his most sensitive spot, and he winced in response. "Stoppp," he drunkenly begged, his voice muffled by his hand. You couldn't help but snort in derision at his demand.

"If you want me to stop, then why are you dripping allll over the seat?" You taunted, your gaze flicking down to the damp fabric. "Somebody's going to have to clean this up, you know."

He paused, his mind processing your words as a wave of tension washed over him. Though you couldn't see his physical response, you sensed it with certainty - his cock was twitching at your rather harsh degradation.

"I'm gonna cum, mommy." he whimpered alas, his voice trembling and nasal, in a tone that was foreign to you. He rarely addressed you with such endearments, so you knew that the alcohol must have loosened his inhibitions. "I'm gonna cum b-because your being so mean to me." he stammered, his words punctuated by sniffles.

"Hmmm," you murmured, slowing your movements deliberately. You couldn't help but appreciate the way his ass looked, supple and inviting as it yielded to your fingers. You didn't want this moment to end too soon. "Perhaps I should make you wait until we get home," You suggested, your voice low and sadistic with a hint of amusement.

He let out a despairing "Hmph" and a muffled string of "no"s as he struggled to force your fingers deeper inside him. To his frustration, you took a firm hold of his hips, preventing him from generating any friction through his own movements.

"You tell me, sawa, how bad do you want to come?" you asked in a calm, measured tone, tracing small circles on his hips and barely pumping him with your fingers.

As you gazed at him, you could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, his ear that angled towards you flushed a deep red, while his face remained mostly hidden behind his arm. The tremble in his voice was palpable as he hesitantly spoke up. "I... I want to so badly. I need to. My head feels all fuzzy, I can't take it! Please. P-please. Please, Mommy. Let me have this."

It was an understatement to say you were surprised. You had rarely witnessed Daichi so beset by neediness. Maybe his “Asian flush”, a hallmark of his vulnerability, only added to his desperation. You were certain you wouldn't be treated to this sight again anytime soon, so you intended to savor every moment of it.

"Lay on your back f’me. I wanna see your face." You urged in a gentle tone. He almost let out a sob when you detached from him, but your words steadied him. He shakily flipped onto his back, propping himself up on his forearms to gaze up at you. The agonizing seconds it took to reposition yourself felt like an eternity to him. As you finally resumed the motion, he let out a guttural moan, as if begging you to accelerate the pace. Unbeknownst to him, you added a third finger to the mix. Your gaze was transfixed on his face, drinking in the sight of his features twisted in a mix of pleasure and strain.

His labored breathing morphed into soft moans, his nose wrinkling as a single bead of sweat slid down his forehead, tracing the messy contours of his hair. The sight was almost mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but notice that your gaze was heightening his arousal. "You're so pretty, sawa, go ahead and come for me," you coaxed, abandoning any notion of this being a punishment.

But how could you be cruel to your lover when his throbbing cock quivered against his abs, as if begging for release? It was a pitiful yet endearing sight, one that tugged at your heartstrings. Just as your other hand reached out to claim his cock, he burst forth with a ragged cry, his semen coating his torso and the open expanse of his shirt.

A soft, whispered "Thank you, mommy" escaped his trembling lips, as his eyelids remained tightly closed, his gaze shut off from the world.

It took him a moment to collect himself, his breathing still ragged as you withdrew your hand from his under side. He anticipated a trip to the baby wipes, so his tiny whimper of surprise was all the more adorable when your warm tongue made contact with his skin instead. His eyes flew open, taking in the sight of you lapping up his semen.

His initial reaction was a gasp, which turned into a stunned silence as you pulled him in for a kiss mere seconds later, the taste of his own come mingling with yours on his tongue.

He eagerly swallowed everything you gave him, determined to prove he could handle it, just like he handled three of your fingers.

You pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva connecting the two of you, your mischievous glint hinting at the tease that was to come. "I should make you lick the seat clean," you said, your tone playful and unrepentant. Though he winced at the humiliation of the task, he couldn't deny the desire to submit to your whims.

[written-in-flowers]

His Goddess: Demon!Yunho x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubus!yunho x fem!succubus!reader x incubus!hongjoong | side pairings: demonline x reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Yunho is a man of strong will and principles. Work comes first. Schedules come first. Yet, when it comes to The Mistress, he is willing to throw it all away to worship and pleasure her.

Tags: demon au, master/slave dynamic, mutual pining, body worship, facesitting, bigdick!yunho, switch!yunho, footjob, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, m/m/f, bisexual sex, lesbian sex, bisexual reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m and f. receiving), double penetration, spit fetish, panty fetish, cum swallowing, facial, cream pie, mentions of violence, mentions of human sacrifices, masturbation, mutual masturbation, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, reader is a hoe and so is everyone else.

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

The key to being a good Head of House is knowing the masters. Yunho knew their daily schedules backwards and forwards. Each of them woke up at the same time, ate at the same time, went to work and came home at the same time. They took tea in the open-air garden on Fridays, went out to dinner on Saturdays, and slept in on Sundays. Yunho never missed a beat. He ran the meal services like clock work, counting down the minutes on his pocket watch. His masters never complained, and everything worked as it should. 

However, it all came to a head when you arrived. At first, you followed the same schedule as your masters. It was easy enough with Yeosang as your chief handler. Yet, one day the masters tell him you’re no longer their plaything. You are Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees, a Lady of Eden, and Mistress of the Black Keep. This meant another set of likes and dislikes to learn, a schedule to follow, and a person to serve. Yunho expected you to follow a similar regimen as your former masters. 

You didn’t. 

Yunho never knew what you’d do for the day. With no employment, you didn’t need to wake up early. You never knew what you wanted to eat or drink. Wooyoung only made recommendations on your wardrobe, and you did your own hair and makeup. No schedule to maintain, you simply lived off your moods. You might go on a shopping trip, go to the salon to get your nails done, or walk about town with Jongho and Mingi. You may sit in your room all day, dancing or listening to music or read books and fashion magazines. Yunho never knew what to expect, and that annoyed him. 

The only consistent thing he knew was you visited your greenhouse in the mornings, checking on the plants and feeding Octavius. After you saw the masters off to work, you’d go with Jongho to the greenhouse. He’ll admit since you took over, the gardens appeared much more vibrant and lively. Octavius, formerly Dennis, and his offspring wanted for nothing, which kept the damned creature out of his hair. You’d been against feeding Octavius slaves from the city or disobedient servants. Instead, Hongjoong brought you scum from the lower dungeons to give to them. Certainly suffocating to death or being torn apart by vicious sentient plants was a worse fate. 

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you…”

He heard you from the entrance of the massive greenhouse. Your clear and resonant voice flowed through the branches and vines high above, accompanied by Hongjoong’s radio. Yunho only had to follow the sound down a path of bright flowers to find you near one of the mossy fountains. You danced along the edge of the stone pool, where water lilies and lotus flowers floated in the currents. He swore the lotus flowers glowed a faint pink light. Yeosang mentioned you’d been working on your botanical abilities. You knew how to regrow and speak to them; you could control their growth and patterns as well. But, that was about it for now. Watching you from afar, he understood the masters’ fascination and infatuation with you. 

You’re beautiful. You’re lively and glowing with life. Even in Hell, where misery and despair go hand-in-hand, you didn’t let it touch you. Being around you felt like being in a different time. Yunho grew up around the old-fashioned ways of his ancestors. You brought new music and culture to the Black Keep. He heard the maids saying things like “that’s bitchin’” or “take a chill pill, dude”. One of the younger footmen told him he had an “awesome bod”. Your carefree attitude and free spirit became contagious. Yunho liked it. It made his masters and staff happy, and that made him happy. 

“Don’t-Don’t you want me? You know I can’t believe it when I hear that you won’t see me-”

“-Mistress, your breakfast-”

“Don’t-” you whipped your head to him, dramatic and fierce, “Don’t you want me?”

“Mistress-”

“-You know I don’t believe you when you say that you don’t need me…” you stalked over to him, bobbing your head to the music. He found it quite comical. “It’s much too late to find. You’d think you changed your mind. You better change it back or we will both be sorry! Don’t you want me baby?! Don’t you want me ohhhh oooh-”

“-Mistress,” he laughed as you bounced around him, “I have your breakfast.”

You continued singing to your plants. He noticed the glowing lotuses brightened to the tune of the song, various pinks and whites in the dark water. A new ability, he assumed. He placed the breakfast tray on a table nearby, then turned back to you. You were breathtaking today. Not because of your tight high-waisted shorts or the blouse that flattered your shape. The light in your eyes, the carefree way you sang and danced around made you beautiful to him. He sometimes thought he might be in the presence of a goddess, a being higher than himself who came to bless him with her beauty. 

A beauty he appreciated every night through a peephole. 

“Thanks, Yunho,” you smiled, catching your breath. “Is it Cook’s egg bowl?”

“With potatoes, scallions and bacon bits as requested,” he nodded. “I took the liberty to brew you a dark roast this morning. Jongho mentioned you favored it over the medium we normally brew.”

“Aw, Yunho,” your smile gave him butterflies. Watching you come over to the tray, you fixed your coffee, “You’re so sweet.”

“I’m only doing my job, Mistress. It’s my duty to make sure you’re always comfortable and happy.”

“Or Seonghwa will feed you to Octavius?”

“It is a scary punishment,” he joked back. 

The fact that he’d made you laugh brought out a smile. “Ooop,” you giggled over your steaming cup, “I did it.”

“Did what?”

“Make the Head of House smile.” You hip bumped him, “Don’t be such a statue. You’re cute when you smile.” 

“I can smile,” he excused. He never realized it until he met you that he rarely laughed. Not that he can’t joke around, he could. His job simply took up too much time for that sort of thing. He took a look around to see if he caught Jongho anywhere. “Where is Jongho? He is meant to be here with you.”

“He’s with Yeosang,” you said, walking over to a swing made of branches and flowers. Sipping your coffee, a tangle of vines pushed the cart over to you and you started eating. “They're bringing more lights.”

“More lights?”

“Hongjoong wants to take pictures of me,” you said. “Did you know he does photography?”

“It is one of his hobbies.”

“His least sexual ones,” you noted, scooping up more egg and sausage. “I was looking around for a book in his room and I found his portfolio. He takes really good pictures. I mean, most of them were people in bondage or lingerie, but still tasteful. I asked him about them and he told me he likes to do it from time to time, so he said he wanted to photograph me.”

“You'd make a splendid model, Mistress,” Yunho said, trying not to notice your lips around the spoon. Did everything you do have to look good? “Will you be needing anything else?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

He bowed, and then left. Then, he saw Master Hongjoong come through the greenhouse doors. He noticed the black duffle bag and camera around his neck. 

“Morning, sir,” Yunho stopped to bow. 

“Morning. Is YN here?”

“As always.”

“Good. Make sure nobody disturbs us for now,” he said, adjusting the camera around his neck. “I don't like being interrupted.”

“Of course, sir.”

Hongjoong walked down the garden path, and an idea came to Yunho. Lunch service wasn't for a while. His staff all knew their duties and knew the penalty for falling behind. He could spare a few minutes. 

Waiting until Hongjoong disappeared, he went down the opposite path around the greenhouse. He still heard the radio playing, soon followed by Hongjoong’s voice. Hiding behind a lattice divider of flowers, Yunho saw you and Hongjoong through the holes. It reminded him of the ones back in the keep: small concealed holes he'd cut into walls and paintings to spy on people. He'd originally done it to keep an eye on the staff, but he soon learned it came with other benefits. He'd grown fond of watching the masters with their servants. Watching their hard bodies rut into the soft forms of their partners aroused him to no end. The idea that they had no idea made him harder. Eventually, Master Seonghwa discovered these holes, and began enjoying them as well. Now, it was his favorite thing. H

e stood against the divider and watched you pose for Hongjoong. The photos started off innocently enough: you posing with flowers and on the edge of the fountain in various angles, and slowly removing clothing in each shot. Blood rushed to his core when you knelt naked in the fountain. Flower petals clung to your wet skin in places, and the glowing flowers added an ethereal mood to it. You might be a goddess emerging from the pool, covered in the flowers you loved so much. You could be offering him your body in exchange for his undying faith. 

Hongjoong stopped snapping photos when he could no longer control himself. You sat kneeling in the pool, thighs spread as vines crept up your body. Yunho’s jaw dropped when one of them slid into your mouth. You truly are a sinful sight. How could anyone expect to resist you? He stood there, hot around the collar, and observed. Hongjoong unbuckled his jeans, pushing his hips to your face as the vine slithered down your body. By the stifled moans, your vine had entered you. Yunho let out a soft sigh, unable to look anywhere but at you. 

You should be worshiped. You are an exotic nymph who comes to seduce and ensnare him. He'd gladly step into the water if it meant tasting your lips, regardless of what happened after. He knew he could have you now, if he wanted. No longer a pleasure slave, you could seek out others. He'd let you collar him right away. He groaned softly when Hongjoong tapped his cock on your tongue, sliding it up and down before pushing back into your mouth. Yunho began rubbing the tightness in his trousers when you spread your legs for Hongjoong. He watched the redhead set you on the dirt and slip into your warm cunt. He had a view of where you both met; the mere shadow of his thick cock filling you had Yunho stroking himself soon enough. 

It was when you rode Hongjoong that he came. You arched your back so your round ass stuck out. That way, he saw the hard cock stretching you. You looked so beautiful this way: hair tousled, body shimmering with sweat and your pussy wetting the dick inside you. He couldn’t help imagining you opening your mouth as he jerked himself over you. You'd catch every drop; his offering to his divine goddess. Yunho gripped the wooden divider in front of him as his body contorted to his orgasm. In quiet, restrained moans, he spilled his cum all over the floor. Your own orgasm came shortly afterwards, coming in time with Hongjoong’s upward thrusts. 

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Hongjoong ordered, moving to stand over you. 

‘Cum in her mouth,’ Yunho thought hungrily. ‘Cum in her slutty mouth.’

He did. What he loved more was you licking Hongjoong clean. Yunho took deep breaths, tucking himself back into his pants when he noticed. Hongjoong's tip in your mouth, you glanced over to his hiding spot. He swore you made direct eye contact with him. You slid your tongue up and over the bulb of Hongjoong, sucking whatever remnants you'd missed the first time. He needed you. He needed to fuck you senselessly; he needed to worship and pleasure you. 

“Can we keep going, Master?” you asked innocently, stroking Hongjoong. “I haven't been fucked in such a long time. I can't stop now.”

“Give me those pretty lips and we can definitely go again.”

Yunho ended up watching each hot, sweaty, dirty round. He'd never cum so much before. You truly must be something divine. 

A goddess. 

*****

You realized you enjoyed teasing Yunho. Not only did the butler give adorable flustered looks, but his squirming contrasted his stern, professional appearance. It reminded you of Yeosang, who kept his composure even in the face of your naked body. You'd been sure that when he spied on you in the greenhouse, he'd come and taste you himself. But instead, he stayed hidden the entire time. So, you decided to signal him in other ways.

You spent a whole week eating creamy cakes and tarts to make white messes around your mouth. Yunho swallowed thickly when you locked eyes with him. He'd watch you lick the cream from your fingers or wipe it from your mouth with fascination. You thought for sure he'd give in then. Everyone else did. Instead, he’d offer his handkerchief, a white cloth embroidered with gold thread. 

You then tried a more direct approach. Yunho often came by your room for status reports from Jongho and Yeosang. Since discovering this, you often entangled yourself in the pair right before he showed up. He stayed to watch only once. You saw him drool over your bouncing breasts, and bend a little to catch them both inside you. You begged him to join, but he stayed silent. Couldn't he tell how badly you wanted him? When this didn't work, you started simply walking about the keep naked, especially in the servant areas. While you let other servants have their look, it was Yunho you focused on. He liked your tits, you knew that much. He'd bit his inner cheek when you allowed cream to drop from your chin to your breasts. 

He. Did. Nothing. 

Yet, his resistance only made you want him more. With his long limbs and broad body, Yunho stood out from the rest of the servants. You knew many female servants found him attractive, and you agreed. His curved horns came from the sides of his head, and in the right light you saw the silver bands gleaming around them. His tail, skinny and long, had another band right underneath the arrow-shaped end. Seonghwa explained to you that children of Mammon, Prince of Greed, often adorned themselves with silver or gold. He told you off-duty Yunho wore silver earrings and piercings. You doubted you'd ever see “off-duty Yunho” since Yunho worked more than anyone else in the Black Keep. 

Which is where your teasing came in. Out of all the servants, Yunho shows the least interest in sleeping with you. Aside from your first time with San, where he'd watched, the house manager kept his distance. He only really served the lords, since Jongho and Yeosang are your personal servants. But, as time went on in the keep, you began wondering if the incubus avoided being alone with you. Maybe he didn't enjoy sex the same as the others; he might be more spectator than performer. That did leave a smudge of disappointment, since you found Yunho’s puppy-dog eyes and large hands attractive. Now that you can sleep with whoever you like, you want a slice of every pie and cake in the place. He had plenty of opportunities to indulge in your pie, but did not. 

You wondered what made the butler tick. Yes, trying to coax him into your bed might be a bit messed up, but you knew he wanted it. You could tell whenever he saw you naked; whenever you showed him your tight sex being filled by someone or bounced your tits on purpose, his eyes lingered there until he remembered his place. Trying to get him only made you ache for him more. 

“Linette?” 

Linette, a succubus of 180 years, was one of the younger maids in the house. Tight brown curls hung around a heart shaped face, with pouty lips made for kissing. Her golden brown skin glowed from her beauty and her kind’s natural radiance; almond eyes batted long lashes that gave off an innocent appearance. In her black and white uniform, you understood the males’ fascination with her. She'd finished ironing one of Seonghwa’s shirts as you approached her. She stopped at once, and stood up straight. Thankfully, only you two occupied the scullery. 

“Yes, Mistress?” she asked in her soft voice. 

“I had a question, and I don't want anyone else to know,” you began.

“I swear anything you say in confidence will stay with me,” she said quite proudly. 

You moved closer to her, “Where are the peepholes?”

“The peepholes? I-I don't know what you-”

“-I know you know,” you said. “All the servants do. You must have looked through one before. I know they are in the secret passages around here, but which rooms? What parts of them?”

She fiddled with the end of her apron, clearly torn between honesty and lying. “They're mainly in the bedrooms,” she finally admitted, “But there are some looking into the study, the music room, the main library, the lounge and a few other places.”

You snorted amusedly, “You know where all of them are, huh?”

She turned away shyly. “All of us do, Mistress. It's a sort of recreational activity around here.” She stepped to you, “I can show you where they are, should you wish to enjoy them too?” 

“That’d be awesome. Where’s the first one?”

Linette escorted you around the keep. The first peepholes hid inside paintings around Hongjoong’s apartment: one looking into his bedroom and another in his dungeon. She then took you to the one in between books in the library, the two peeking into the lounge, one looking through a mirror in San’s personal gym, several in all the bathrooms, one inside a low painting in Seonghwa’s music room, and one peering inside the kitchen. She then took you through the dimly lit passages to a room you knew very well.

Your bedroom.

Linette explained yours is the newest, most popular one. You suspected this much whenever you caught a footman or a maid looking at you. Seonghwa mentioned it a few times to you, but you didn’t think too much about it. The possibility someone might be watching you intrigued you. You never minded in the brothel. Most of your work happened in the main room regardless, so you’d shed a lot of your shame since then. As she guided you away from your bedroom peephole, a sudden noise caught your attention. The last hole happened to peek into your dressing room. No doubt many servants watched you undress in here, seeing your body in a casual setting. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stopped to remove the painted corn plug.

“Fuck…”

A rush of warmth went over you when you saw him. Leaning against one of the dressers was Yunho. Head tilted back, you saw his pants pooled around his ankles and his shirt lifted up from his narrow hips. The softly defined abdomen tensed each time his cock twitched. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. It salivated more when you saw what he jerked himself with: a pair of red silk panties. Lightly, he rubbed your panties over his throbbing length. He lowered his head to watch your panties snag on the head. With his free hand, he stroked the clothed tip until the silk became sticky with precum.

“Wow….” you breathed softly, seeing him whimper at this new maneuver. “He’s bigger than I’d first thought.” You remembered the last time you’d seen that dick. It looked delicious even then.

“Hm?” Linette walked back to see what you’d found, and she giggled softly. “Oh yes. Yunho is pretty big.”

“I think I’d have to do size training with that,” you smirked at her.

“He really likes that.”

“And how do you know?” you crossed your arms and grinned.

“We’ve…We’ve done it a few times.”

“Really?” you gasped, intrigued. “What was it like?”

“Amazing!” she said, happy to see your positive reaction. “He’s so considerate and comforting. He’s more gentle than Master Hongjoong or Mingi, for sure. When I do it with him, it’s like the first time every time. He does have a fascination with panties, which I’m sure you can tell already. He likes to make me cum inside mine so he can keep them.”

“How often have you done it?”

“Not too often. We’re both really busy, but sometimes, you know, those pent up feelings come out.”

“Does he do it with only you or others?”

“Just Mingi and myself. They’re very close, and he knows I won’t tell the other servants.”

“Are you guys, like, a thing?”

“Not really. Yunho’s not the dating type, and neither am I. We like to keep it casual with no strings attached.”

“Huh, no labels. I get that. I wasn't the dating type either. I never found anyone worth dating in the first place.” You looked back into the peephole. Yunho’s hips began moving forward, his hand jerking him faster as he grew closer to his release. “He must taste so good.”

“He does,” she confirmed. She then giggled, “I mentioned it to him once, and now he cums down my throat whenever we do it. He says he likes seeing my mouth full of cum.”

“Dirty girl,” you looked back over to tease. You started liking Linette more and more. Not only was she as beautiful as you, but clearly didn’t mind speaking frankly about obscene subjects. “If only he'd let me get a lick. He wouldn't regret it.”

“Yunho has pretty strong willpower. He won't be as easy as the others.”

“Psh, tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes. “I've been sending very obvious signals, and he just stands there and jerks off. Sometimes he straight up runs away from me. I don't get what I'm doing wrong.”

“Nothing, I'm sure. Yunho isn't really like other demons. Sex takes a backseat to everything else.”

“Clearly.”

Your sex throbbing between your thighs, you watched Yunho’s body tremble as he came. His hand gripped the dresser behind him until the knuckles turned white. He fucked his hand as if it were a real hole, squirting into your underwear while he imagined your cunt instead. Or, did he fantasize about your mouth? Your ass, perhaps? You were dying to know. A distinct wetness pooled in your panties as Linette led you out of the passageway into a room you’d never seen before.

A room made of gray marble, steps in the floor lead into a pool of crystal clear water. Circular, the mosaic piece at the bottom resembles a lotus flower in white and gold. Not exactly big, it could fit a good number of people should there be a party.

“We have a pool?” you asked Linette in surprise.

“We do. You’ve never been here?”

“No, I wasn’t aware we had one. It looks great.”

Your body flushed with heat from your arousal, you untucked your polo shirt from your shorts and flung it off. Linette stood by as you undressed yourself, picking up the pieces on the floor. Once you were naked, you looked over to her. 

“Linette? Care to join?”

The question caught the maid off guard. “Oh, me, Mistress?”

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” you told her. “I know not everybody’s into girls and boys. I’m sure if you went and asked someone else, they’d be up for it.”

She shyly stepped over to you, “I’d like to do it with you very much, Mistress. The men aren’t the only ones who peek into your room sometimes. Your beauty truly is unique around here, and you’re…a goddess.”

The thought that even the female servants desired you pumped up your ego a bit. Moving over to her, you held her by the hips as you brought her in for a soft peck. Lips plush like petals, their warmth and taste drew you in further. Kissing down her long neck, you untied her apron and tossed it aside. Heavy breathing flowed between you as you stripped her down, gasping when you saw her supple tits inside a white lace bra. Pert and supple, you took her dark nipple in your mouth to hear her softly gasp. 

A part of you knew your kisses fueled Linette’s arousal, the woman eager for more of you. Yet, you couldn't help yourself. Sex became such a big part of your life in Hell, that you can't go without it. All the oppressed feelings in your natural life came loose in your afterlife. You wanted to sample everything like a kid in a candy store. 

Linette let out a soft moan once you cupped her round ass, whimpering when you spread them. This. How did anyone expect you not to hunger for this? Especially with so many fine specimens around? Her desire became clear when she grabbed your ass in return, squeezing until you moved into her. No doubt the low water surface teased her smooth sex like it did to yours. She moved her hands to palm and sucked your tits while you groped her ass. The drug coming from your lips fueled the flames already burning between Linette’s thighs. The scent of mixed spices clung to your nose, and you hungered for more of her. 

You’d laid her against the steps, kissing down her stomach when the door opened. 

“Linette, there you are. I have been looking…for…you.”

Yunho stood in the doorway, dazed by the sight by the pool. It took him a minute to realize what he’d walked into, and you thought he’d walk right back out. Yet, he remained frozen a few feet from you. His eyes cast down your wet bodies, and he gulped. Keeping your eyes on him, you sucked on one of Linette’s breasts. The light brushes of her hands down your sides created goosebumps. Yunho stayed stock still as you both kissed and caressed one another. His attentive stare burned fires that you couldn’t douse out. His presence made each of you want to do more and more. You expected him to eventually give into his desires and at least stick his hand in his pants, but he never did. As you and Linette took things up a level, Yunho only spectated. When Linette turned you to face him, your back to her chest, he didn’t move a muscle. Seeing her begin rubbing your pussy, you thought surely he’d cave. Maybe he preferred his women to be clothed? He did absolutely nothing when you pressed Linette to the top steps and fingered and licked her. He might as well be watching a TV show by how much he reacted. 

Yunho stood by as you sisscored, your sensitive cores sliding up and down each other. Both of you realized you’d get nothing from the only man in the room, so you came together in front of him. Seeing you both breathing deep, collapsing on the smooth floors, Yunho only nodded. 

“Well done,” he said. “I quite enjoyed that.”

“You did?” you asked in disbelief. “You’re not even hard.”

“I can control myself, Mistress. Someone in my position can't indulge whenever we please,” he replied simply. He said this, but you knew he wanted it. “I assume Linette won’t be joining the dinner service?”

“She’ll be indisposed, I’m afraid,” you answered, crawling over and kissing her softly. 

His eyes lingered on your nude, wet body. You angled yourself to let him have a full view, knowing he’ll save it for later with another pair of panties. When his eyes wandered to Linette, and his attraction to her became clear. Linette, who must be a kindred spirit, did the same as you. Yunho, unlike any other incubus in the house, coughed and bowed his head to you. He left the room, but you knew the image stuck with him as he walked out. 

You and Linette laughed softly at his reaction. The two of you stayed in the pool for a while, talking and occasionally kissing. You learned Linette is the youngest maid out of the entire staff, which makes her the most sought after by the masters and others. She’d been born into a poor family, distant relations to Prince Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony, and she started cleaning houses at a young age. Not everyone, she told you, became pleasure or house slaves. A good chunk of low-ranking demons worked in the houses of the elite as maids or butlers. 

“Like Yunho,” she said, drying herself off. “He’s a great-great-great-great-great grandson of Prince Mammon. He had a bit of money, and his father had a title but he’d squandered most of it in the gambling dens. Yunho became a butler to pay off family debts at first, but then he joined The Black Keep when he befriended Master Seonghwa.” 

“You know a lot about him, hm?”

She smiled shyly, “We do talk socially and after sex in his room. He’s so intelligent and wise. I’ve learned a lot from him since I’ve been here.” 

“Aw, you have a crush.”

“No, I don’t,” she shook her head, laughing. 

“That smile’s telling me different,” you teased in a sing-song voice. “Is he your type?”

“Tall, smart, with big eyes and a huge dick? He’d be anybody’s type.”

You and her laughed. You liked Linette, you decided. After this, she became part of your own “staff”: Yeosang managed everything (despite pretending it annoys him), Jongho tended to you personally, Mingi guarded you, and sweet, pretty Linette handled the cleaning and serving. It felt good, you realized, to have a group to call yours. Sure, they served you but not out of obligation. You didn’t have many friends in Hell. 

They felt like home. 

****

“Don’t leave me,” you murmured into his ear, slowly drawing out of your grogginess. “Stay here.”

Hongjoong’s soft giggle cut the silence, “I wish I could, Pet. I really do.”

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, and nuzzled his neck. You’d spent the night in Hongjoong’s bed, cuddling and talking as you both drifted to sleep. His job in the lower dungeons exhausted him, and he’d wanted comfort rather than sex. Turning over, he pecked the side of your mouth to avoid another sex-inducing kiss. 

“Just pretend it’s still night time,” you said, recalling a scene in your favorite Shakespearian play. “Everyone else is asleep, and the moon is still in the sky. You don’t leave for a few more hours,” you kissed his cheek and snuggled to his side. “Stay here.”

“It’s morning, babe,” he picked up on your playful banter. “Yunho’s going to come in here soon and draw back the curtains. You can’t sleep with the sun shining on you. It sucks.”

“No, it’s nighttime,” you said. “He’s too busy banging Linette to come in here.”

The comment pulled Hongjoong out of the conversation. “What? With Linette?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” as chatty as Hongjoong is, he can keep secrets. “But, they apparently hook up sometimes.”

“Ooh, where?”

“I guess wherever they’re both at?” you said, pushing red strands from his face. “She was showing me all the peepholes, and we caught him jerking off in my dressing room. That's when she told me.”

“With your panties, I’m assuming?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dry humped him while wearing women’s underwear before.” You should have expected a lewd story. “I swore he came twice from it,” he chuckled, bringing you closer under the warm blankets. “I was trying on some stuff I’d bought from Wooyoung during my cross-dressing phase-”

“-You had a cross-dressing phase?-

“-Obviously, yes. Everyone has one,” he said quickly, “And he caught me. I asked him if he preferred the black lace or the violet satin, and he said he couldn’t choose between them. With a bit of flirting, I wore each one to see which made him cum harder. He likes satin or silk. He says they get wet easily, and he can feel it.”

“You never wear panties for me,” you flicked his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you liked that,” he said.

“I’d like to try it sometime.”

“Do you want a dress too?”

“Let’s start off with panties and see where it goes, yeah?” you both laughed, and you clung to him. “So yeah, Linette and him fuck on occasion. We fucked in that secret pool you have that nobody told me about, and Yunho walked in. Can you believe he wasn't even hard?”

“Yeah, I can. Dude's an enigma,” he said. “He can get hard and soft on cue. I have no clue where he'd learned it from, but it can be useful in certain situations. I don't think even your charms would work on him.”

“They didn't.”

“And you're disappointed,” he cooed, “Aw, the little slut didn't get the dick she wanted.”

“I haven't done it in a while.”

“You told me you did it with Linette.”

“That doesn't count.” 

He paused, “Would you, you know, do that again? With another woman?”

“I might. It'd be somewhere way more comfortable though,” you kissed his shoulder. “Yes, you can watch through a peephole or something.” 

“Psh,” he said, “The peepholes are for the servants. We get the two-way mirrors.”

“Hold on,” you said, shocked, “Two-way mirrors?”

“Yeah. The servants don’t know because they’re pretty well hidden in the walls,” he elaborated. “They’re not in every room, but most of them. Haven’t you noticed there’s mirrors in rooms where it'd be kind of odd to have them?”

“No, obviously.” Then, the thought came to you, “You have them in my rooms, don’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said. “I really enjoyed watching you and Jongho the other day. I didn’t think you’d be the dominant type.”

“I’m typically not, but I don’t know,” you idly traced his collarbone, “He’s so cute and submissive already. I couldn’t help it.” You then asked, “How would I know you’re there?”

He gave his wicked smile, “You don’t. That’s what makes it hot.” He skimmed down your side, reaching around to grab your ass, “One of us could be watching and you’d never know.” He reached down to kiss your breast, “So, feel free to touch yourself in front of one. You never know who's watching.”

“How spine tingling.”

A light knock at the door pulled you both from your heated world, and Hongjoong called for them to enter. Yunho walked into the room with the familiar sherry glass of cold serum. All the heat that built up fizzled away when you saw it. He must have guessed you’d try luring Hongjoong into sleeping with you. Either him or Seonghwa, you’re never sure. Hongjoong rolled onto his back and you rested on his chest. You both wore pajamas to bed, so you only felt him through the shirt and shorts he’d worn. A part of you longed to drag your clothed sex over the bare limb until you came all over yourself, but you knew better.

“Morning, Yunho,” he said in a hoarse voice, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning Master, Mistress,” he bowed his head. “Cold serum, sir. Master Seonghwa thought you might need it.”

“Of course he did,” he huffed. “He just wants her to himself,” he wrapped you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead.

Since losing your slave status, you didn’t have to adhere to quality time days with your lovers. You mostly did to avoid them fighting over you, but if you preferred San over his brothers one night, they couldn't argue. They thought you never noticed the sneaky tactics they’d use to get you into their beds instead. Their small spats amused you; it made you feel desirable and important, two things you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“I suppose I will,” he grumbled, leaving the bed and taking the small glass. He downed it in one gulp, hissing from the cold syrup in his mouth. “I hate that crap,” he said. “I’m already going to the coldest place in Hell. Now I gotta walk around with this stuff in me.”

“Master,” you whined, reaching to his back to trace his spine, “I can warm you up.”

He laughed, “Yunho should have brought you one, naughty girl.”

He turned to kiss your cheek, narrowing avoiding your attempt at kissing his lips. “It won’t work anyways,” he said, catching on to it. “Cold serum’s pretty strong.”

“Even for my kisses?” you lifted your shirt up your stomach to the bottom curves of your tits.

“Especially those,” he said, reaching underneath to roll a nipple between his fingers. He smirked at your clenched thighs, “I have toys, baby. You can use those.” He smiled when he kissed beneath your breast, “My needy baby. You’ll get to have it later, I promise.” He raised your shirt over them, and took one in his mouth. The gradual whirls around the middle added to your growing arousal. “Go to your greenhouse if you’re so horny,” he pulled away. “Your little plants don’t say no to their mistress.”

“But I want you,” you pouted, sucking on his thumb. “I’ve gone too long without you in me.” 

“I know, baby,” he said, forcing himself to leave your side. You normally spotted a bulge by now, but not this time. Cold serum really did its job. “And you can have it later, like I said. Stop being a whore and get up.”

The insult only aroused you more. Hongjoong sensed this and laughed, “You like it when I degrade you. And people say I’m a slut. Here’s what you’re going to do then,” you gasped when he grabbed your pussy, mushing it with his fingers, “I'm going to go shower. While I'm gone, I want you playing with this lovely pussy of yours. By the time I'm done, I want you ready to cum for me. If you aren't ready before then, I’ll have to punish you. You do remember what I did during your last punishment, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He’d taken you close to orgasm multiple times before simply stopping. You remembered the frustration of him pressing a toy to your pussy only to deny you an orgasm. He’d gotten you dripping over his sheets before he left for “a snack”. The longest thirty minutes of your life with Yeosang instructed to keep you edged until he returned. Your household manager’s degrading remarks only took you closer, as well as the slaps to your cunt.

“And we don’t want that to happen again, do we?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Keep playing with myself until you come back.”

“Good girl.”

Hongjoong kissed your cheek then left for his bathroom. With a soft click, you knew he’d locked it to avoid you going after him. You couldn’t fight off the irritation in you. Glancing over to Yunho, you wanted to see if he’d cave this time. Two women might be too much for him. Sliding your shorts off, you kicked them in his direction.

“Mistress?”

“You like watching, don’t you?” 

“Um, well, I suppose. Master Hongjoong said he didn’t want you doing…that until later.”

“He said to hold it until he came back,” you lifted your knees and spread them, putting yourself on display. In just your panties, Yunho could only see the outline. Yet, he did fixate on the spot of wetness blotting the white cotton. Wetting your fingers, you started rolling your clit in small circles. “I can’t help it sometimes,” you whined, the tight sensation pulsing in your walls, “I get so turned on. I’m sure you know how that feels?”

“I do, actually.”

“Even when you watch me?” you giggled at his stunned expression, “I know you do. You like watching me,” you wet your fingers again to rub your clit softly, “You like watching my pussy get stretched out by a big dick. Is that your favorite thing to watch me do?”

“Mistress, I don’t think this is very appropriate,” he said, gulping as he still looked at you. “But, if you must know, I enjoy watching you on top.”

“I knew it,” you gasped as you lightly brushed your hand over your clit. “It’s because you get to see them inside me, huh?”

“Yes,” he answered as if you’d asked a normal question. “Your moans also change.”

“Do they?”

“They do. You’re fully on top of it, so their cock is directly pushing on that sensitive spot inside you,” he said. “I quite enjoy hearing the long string of moans you give when you’re first on top. Sometimes, I see you get into a particularly heated moment and bounce on it right away.” He stepped forward until he reached the bed. Even having him right beside you pushed your arousal forward. He chuckled, “Or your partner holding you to them as they fuck into you hard and fast; your ass rippling and slapping against them each time just gives me a certain feeling.” His vulgar fantasies stirred more pressure, but you pulled away. Yunho let out a long breath when you pulled both sides of your underwear to the middle, isolating your clit and wetting the fabric more. “Mistress…” he breathed, his hand resting on your knee, “Oh, Mistress…”

“Yes?” you breathed out, using your finger to tease the hard nub. The long fingers trailed down your inner thighs back and forth, while he admired your wet underwear. 

“May I watch you?” he asked.

“Only watch? You don't want to touch me too?”

He let his fingers draw further down your thigh. “You're offering me the privilege to touch you?

“I am,” you said. You recalled what Linette said. She'd called you a ‘goddess’. “I only give that to so few people.”

“Then I truly am lucky,” he said. He lifted one leg and sat on the edge. Facing you, he stayed between your ankles to keep touching you softly. “I could watch you do this all day if you asked it of me.”

“You really like watching, huh?” you giggled, finding his kink humorous at this point. 

“It's like watching porn in real life,” he said. “I get to see your body move and bend to the passion burning inside you up close. I can see your cunt,” he said, taking a deep breath, “And how wet it gets. You are…..Divine, Mistress. I never miss an opportunity to look at you in your most intimate moments. It's like coming across a rare bird. You take in as much as you can because you might not see it again.”

“Except you see me way more.”

“Not nearly enough, in my opinion.” He massaged the backs of your calves, and said, “Keep touching yourself, Mistress. Let me look.”

“With my panties on?”

“If I may keep them afterwards.”

“I have plenty,” you settled yourself against the pillows, rubbing your foot on his crotch, “So yes.”

Yunho then sat on the edge and watched you tease yourself. He let out a deep groan when your foot started sliding up and down his crotch. His eyes, however, stayed on your hand. The slight pressure hardened against the curve of your foot, and you knew he enjoyed it too much for you to stop. You should consider wearing stockings next time. When you pulled your panties aside to show him, he undid his trousers and pulled himself out for you. Heavy breaths joined soft whimpers as you teased his cock and yourself for him. Your toes rolling over the tip, applying a mild bit of pleasure made Yunho hitch a breath. As you did this, Yunho ran his hand from your toes to your thighs each time. The gentle touch tickled slightly, but you sunk too far in pleasure to take it in. You giggled slightly when he took hold of your ankle to guide your foot on his length. His cock grew harder against the sole. You guessed he really could separate himself from his desires. 

Until now. 

Eventually, he withdrew his bare length for you to continue teasing. You turned your foot inward and stroked him on one side. Yunho gripped the edge of the bed, whimpering at the light touches. He gave a particularly breathy moan once you found his balls inside his pants. You found his grinding into your foot too erotic to ignore. Your clit pulsed against your fingers as Yunho surrendered. He propped himself up on his elbows and let you have more access to him. When he looked over to your center, you spread your other leg to give him a better view. You caught a trickle of drool in the corner of his mouth, which he licked up right away. 

He suddenly pulled you over to him, your lower half between his legs. Anticipation bubbled at the closeness between you. Putting your soaked underwear back over yourself, Yunho angled his cock to slide under it. His thick tip pressed to your swollen clitoris, passing over your entrance each time. The smooth cotton of your panties became see through with your juices, which made it stick to Yunho’s shaft. The both of you whimpered and moaned at the teasing. He sometimes popped out of them to tap and rub from the outside. The light slapping became wet the longer he rolled himself around, and you started wishing he'd stick it in already. Each touch sparked sensitivity that made you wriggle between his thighs. Locked by them, you could only grip his black pants as he teased you. 

Yunho’s mouth dropped when his cock accidentally slipped inside. You whimpered feeling the head pull in and out slowly. Suddenly, your entire body felt on fire, buzzing with electricity at the same time. The desperation for more couldn't be satisfied. Withdrawing, you saw his dick glistening in the morning light. His lips parted in each moan and eyes full of longing, he made such a beautiful, erotic sight. Pictures of him pounding you into the bed formed a hard knot in your groin. His tip didn't feel enough anymore. The torture made you rut against Yunho, angling to slide further down. 

“Shall I go deeper, Mistress?” he asked, pulling out and spreading your juices around. “I only aim to please you.”

“Yes,” you sighed, “Yes, go deeper.”

Yunho lifted your legs up and maneuvered himself to be on top of you. You held onto his shoulders as he slowly entered you. Having him buried in your cunt sent new waves up your body. Legs shaking, toes curling, you clawed at his shirt sleeves as he rocked back and forth. The feeling of his girth stretching you became an instant obsession. His heavy, larger form towering over yours, you could only lay there under him. Gradually picking up the pace, your mind started spinning. The orgasm you’d been ordered to hold might arrive early after all.

“Oh, Mistress,” Yunho breathed in your ear, hands on your breasts and lips on your neck, “You feel heavenly.”

His lips and hands went down your body as much as the position allowed. Yunho memorized each part of you. You could feel him pressing his thumbs into the plumper parts, and kissing every patch of skin he reached. He sought to learn every pleasure point, every little tick and moan that escaped you. You brushed your nipples into front of his vest, enjoying the smooth satin against the hard centers. He squeezed and sucked them for you, then held them to let you enjoy the sensation. Yunho truly did wish to please you. 

“Go faster, Yunho,” you said, a plea in your voice. Your hands going through his soft black hair, he obeyed your command right away. Soon, his hips slapped against yours, the position forcing your hips a bit higher. “Yes,” you breathed, head digging into the mattress, “Just like that. Please, keep going like that. It feels so good!”

“Anything for you, Mistress,” he inhaled. “Anything.”

You brought him to your lips, pecking the pale skin there before whispering, “Then cum in my mouth. I want you to cum in it the way you do for Linette.”

“Of course,” he panted, pushing harder, “I’d cum nowhere else. Consider it an offering.” He pinned you by the wrists and went deeper, “An offer-offering to my goddess.”

“A generous one,” you gave a breathy laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist to lock him in place.

Lips parting in every moan, his eyes closing, you knew he’d cum soon. You could almost feel him twitching against your bumpy walls; he’d finish any minute if he kept going. Your own orgasm bubbled in a pot deep down, your juices trickling out in every thrust. When he began his steady pace, his head pressed right to your sensitive core again. The both of you filled the room with your groans and moans, nearly crying and screams the longer it took. You did not even notice the other person in the room.

“Is my little pet close?” Hongjoong appeared beside you in his towel. “Hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried in time with Yunho’s hips. “So fucking close. Please, let me cum, Master. Let me cum all over it.”

“Hm, I’m not sure,” he pondered. He sat next to you, and Yunho knelt upwards to give his hand room. Fingers rapidly moved over your clit side to side, you clung to his wrist as you wriggled around. “You look so pretty like this. Your pussy all drenched, panties doused in your pussy juice and precum,” he hummed, “Looks delicious. I don’t think Yunho wants to stop any time soon either, do you?”

“I’ll go as long as my mistress wishes,” Yunho said, holding your knees as he bottomed up. “But, no, sir,” he said, watching himself go in and out, “I don’t want to stop. She feels incredible.”

“She does,” Hongjoong agreed with his mischievous smile. You loved and dreaded that smile. “Keep fucking her,” he settled beside you, removing his towel to reveal a semi-hard cock, “I want to watch up close.”

Yunho did as ordered and continued at the same pace. Occasionally, Hongjoong spat where you met to wet you further or hold your panties aside for Yunho to go deeper. When you felt yourself about to burst, Hongjoong made Yunho stop and pull out.

“It’s so wet,” Hongjoong said, holding Yunho in his hand. He used your combined fluids to stroke Yunho slowly, keeping the butler on edge. “Come here.”

Hongjoong knelt up to Yunho and kissed him deeply. You laid there, shuddering from your denied orgasm as the two men kissed. “How come you’re not naked?” Hongjoong asked, unbuttoning Yunho’s vest and sliding it off him. “YN should see the hot bod you have. It’s to die for.”

“She wanted me to keep them on,” Yunho gasped. He let Hongjoong undo his shirt and remove it to reveal his slim torso and hard nipples. He bucked into Hongjoong’s hand as the latter sucked on them.

“And I want you to take them off.”

Yunho laid back on the bed to let Hongjoong undress the rest of him. Completely naked, Yunho’s body was no longer restricted by his clothes. Hongjoong continued stroking him and kissing his nipples until you crawled to the foot of the bed. Both of you on either side of him, Yunho lost himself in a blissful whirl. Two hands toying with his throbbing cock, two pairs of lips kissing and sucking up and down his chest, and two cores rutting into his strong thighs made him wild.

Then, you did the thing you probably shouldn’t have: you kissed each of them. Since he’d drunk cold serum, you didn’t think your amatory would counteract the potion’s strength. Hongjoong remained mostly soft the entire time, his arousal maintaining mainly a mood rather than a physical need. Yet, as you slid your tongue over his, the soft muscle gradually turned stiff. He let out a low, hungry growl that shifted the tone. His dry humping became more frenzied and his kisses became sloppy and deep. Yunho’s already horny manner inflamed your kisses.

“Suck my cock,” Yunho begged you. “I want to feel your mouth around it. Both of you.”

Neither you nor Hongjoong spoke, but instead went down his body to the aching cock. Hongjoong��s hand keeping it straight by the base, the two of you licked up and down each side. His dick, fully erect, twitched whenever a tongue flicked the head. You kissed it between your mouths, tongues sliding around to touch one another. Droplets of clear liquid were caught by either of you each time Hongjoong squeezed them out. You moaned once you saw Hongjoong sink the tip into his mouth. Little by little, Yunho filled his mouth until Hongjoong hit the bottom. The sight of Hongjoong’s mouth sucking the thick muscle made you gulp. He drooled over the head, then used his spit to coat it completely. When it was your turn, Hongjoong licked around the balls underneath, sucking softly while you worked Yunho’s dick. Yunho held onto every ounce of strength in him to not stick himself deep in your throat, but you knew he wanted to. 

It went higher when Hongjoong kissed down your back to your ass, which he smacked out of pure habit. Lifting your hips, he buried his face into your dripping cunt and immediately attacked your clit head on. Yunho grabbed your hair to start sliding up into your face. Saliva and more precum gathered around your lips, turning white as Yunho used your mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else except them. All you wanted was to fuck both of them forever, enjoying them however you could.

They grew more excited when you moved to straddle Yunho. Hongjoong held him straight to help you slide the thickness back in your tight cunt. A constant flow of moans came once you were full. Hongjoong locked Yunho’s thighs with his own, wrapping his arms around you to help you ride Yunho, who’d lost all sense by now. Unable to move, Yunho surrendered to the pleasure.

“I don’t think Yunho will be able to resist his goddess after today,” Hongjoong taunted, pinching and rolling your nipples. His surprising strength had you bouncing from top to bottom smoothly, “Show him what he’s been missing, love.”

Hongjoong released you and you lost all control. Whirling your hips, Yunho moved around inside you. You rode Yunho until you both shuddered and quaked together. But, you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t let him stop now. Forcing yourself to climb off him, you rested on your side and Yunho took the signal. His larger body encompassed yours, pushing your leg up high as he fucked back into you. The desperate hunger became clearer. One hand gripping your tits, the other worked your clit. Hongjoong sat next to you, watching intently as he stroked himself. Right as your pussy started clutching his cock, Yunho withdrew and replaced his cock with his fingers and tongue. 

Head locked in your thighs, Yunho’s fingers abused your g-spot until you screamed his name. Cum shot out of your pussy into his mouth, each spurt making you more and more sensitive. Even when you finished, he aimed for another orgasm. Pulling you onto his face in a single roll, you clawed at the head board as you rode his tongue. You twitched each time it hit your clit, enjoying the spark it brought and feeling it fuel your desires. Yunho, controlled by his lust, had no trouble tossing you onto your back once again.

“Yunho,” you breathed his name, squeaking when he grabbed your ankles and pinned your knees to your chest. “God, keep going. Keep fucking me. Please.”

Yunho’s long fingers went in and out quickly, your wetness creating a slick slapping sound. He hungrily sucked and licked at your clit every so often to bring you to another orgasm. At the second one, you jerked and bucked as it hit you hard. The underwear he’d refused to remove felt sticky and moist. He readjusted them to the side before replacing his fingers with his cock. Your lips turned the reserved Yunho into a feral animal. You loved it. Pulling his hair, you brought his face to your breasts to force your nipple into his mouth. His moans tickled the supple flesh, his tongue swirling around it while he fucked you. You kept his face there as he brought you to a third orgasm. 

Yunho gave a few final thrusts as you came down, then straddled your chest. His tip inches from your mouth, you opened wide to let the stringy streams grow thicker and shoot onto your tongue and lips. His low groans came from deep in his chest, pushing through gritted teeth in each growl. His body constricted, muscles and veins in his hands showing. It finished in subtle shudders, the last bits dripping directly into your throat. You let him see the pool of cum in your mouth before you swallowed; the sight made him stick his tip between your lips to milk the rest. 

You moved your hands to the front to stroke him. He rocked through them and to your mouth. Once you had his dick in your hands, you couldn’t get enough. You wanted him to get hard again. You needed him to. You went too long without it. Right when you took him in your throat, something long slipped into your sore pussy.

“I can’t help it,” Hongjoong said. “Just keep sucking him, and I’ll dump it in you.”

You adjusted yourself for more room, arms wrapped around Yunho’s thighs. Having both mouth and sex plugged up, you gave them free usage of your holes. Nothing felt better. Hongjoong’s high, cracked moans became haggard and whiny as he came. The hot sensation you loved more than anything filled your sex. Hongjoong always fucked it back into you, hardly letting any of it come out onto the bed.

Your saliva wore off soon enough. You could tell in the way their muscles relaxed, and they grew steadily quiet. Each of them fell onto the bed, resembling puddles of jelly rather than men. While they recover, you let yourself sink into exhaustion. You became aware of the fluids on you, and you used the covers to wipe what you could with limp arms. As you wiped your chin, a long-fingered hand reached out to you with a handkerchief. It smelled of butterscotch, sweet and faint on the cloth. Yunho. You saw him inches from you, grinning sleepily as he wiped you down. You stayed still to let him continue. Another hand reached your thighs, cinnamon wafting from where Hongjoong laid. He kissed your thighs, sliding his hand tenderly over your gushing pussy. 

None of you said anything. You did not need to. Yunho pecked your cheeks, your nose and neck while his fingers danced along your side. Hongjoong laid passed out near your feet, dead as far as the world was concerned. 

“You really think I’m a goddess?” you asked curiously, not sure whether it was sweet words said under heated passion. 

“I do,” he said. “You must be one to be Lilith’s blood for certain. Whenever I see you, I find it hard to look away from you. It’s been that way since I first saw you. When I saw you standing in the sitting room, the fire behind you, wearing that ridiculous succubus costume, you enchanted me. I kept my distance because you belonged to my masters, but now…I don’t believe I can stay away.”

“I wouldn’t want you to. Who else will worship me then?” you teased, which made him laugh. 

“Plenty of people around here already do. Though, I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t be the first in line.”

The two of you giggled, and you finally gave into your exhaustion. 

*****

“You’re telling me you drank a serum, and when YN kissed you, you got hard again?”

“Yup.” 

Hongjoong knocked back his afternoon drink in one shot. He poured himself another from the small wicker table. Tea time on Fridays gave them a chance to talk outside of the house. Hongjoong didn’t particularly care for it, but it’s part of the regular weekend routines.  

“I don’t know if that means the serum was weak or her potency is that strong. It was,” he huffed, “Insane. I just wanted to keep going like a damn rabbit. The shit’s addictive. I mean, you should’ve seen Yunho. He got harder than me. I didn’t think he could do that.”

Hongjoong watched his brother rub his chin. His “thinking face”, San calls it. “We’d need to test it further.”

“Hey, she’s not a test subject,” San, sitting in the middle, cut him off. “She’s YN. She might’ve been our slave at one point, but she’s not now. She’s my Darling and I won’t let you poke at her like some kind of lab rat.” 

“If she isn’t interested, then I won’t do anything, but she must be curious. I know I am. I know you two are too.” He straightened up in his chair, no longer interested in the spread beside him. “Maybe I can call that slaver from the Scarlet Silk. He can bring something for us to work with.”

“If YN wants to, that is,” he said. 

“Yes, of course. Do you know if she’s awake ye-”

“-I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” your singing voice came from behind a nearby hedge. “I think we’re alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound-”

“-You have a lovely voice, Mistress,” Yunho’s voice came after. “Where’d you learn to sing like that?”

“I started singing with my mom, then I guess working with Yeosang helped too. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” you told him quickly. “We used to sing together in the garden all the time. Oh, hey,” you came from around an entryway with a smile, “Here you guys are.”

“Afternoon, Darling,” San grinned. “You look beautiful today.”

You wore the yellow wrap-around dress today. Wooyoung’s collection of 80’s fashion impressed you greatly, and Hongjoong liked the change. All of your changes delighted him. The keep felt so dead and cold. You’d brought life back into the house, and he couldn’t help admiring that. 

Maybe you are some kind of goddess after all. 

***

A/N: talk about smut from end to end lol we're finding out more about Lady every day. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give it a reblog and a like <3

[favpuppygirl]

Sugar daddy Leon drabble cause I think about him a lot (teensy bit of nsfw…)

— DI Leon’s on vacation with you, his pretty little sugar baby, in like Bimini or something. He’s so grumpy and tired and needs the little break and you’re such a fan of fun vacations that you two end up in the beautiful crystal waters of Bimini!!

— Leon’s sipping on a glass of whiskey—which you find silly because vacations are for fun drinks, and you’re drinking a pretty blue cocktail, adorned with a cherry on top. Classic summertime special! (I don’t drink…)

— You’re a little tipsy, insistent on Leon joining you in the water, which he reluctantly obliges to. You’re trying to start a splash battle with him which makes him all upset so he goes to leave but you pull him back with whiney slurred speech that pleads for him to play in the water with you. Leon groans but agrees, indulging in your wishes cause he just loves seeing you smile.

— Back in your vacation home, you’re showering off all the salty water while Leon relaxes on the cozy bed, babbling about nothing you understand. Not like you can hear too much anyways, the water from your shower far stronger than his saccharine voice.

— You crawl into bed and meet him in his arms, the scent of coconut spilling from your body, a perfect match to Leon’s thick, rich vanilla cologne.

— Leon kisses up and down your sun kissed skin, whines escaping your lips in return to his caring lips. He sits up on the headboard, rolling you onto his lap, hands lazily sitting around the nape of your neck, sucking pretty purple marks into your soft skin.

— You hold onto his tan shoulders, eyes low and droopy from your exhausting day. Leon promises to take control of the evening, letting you tangle into him while he rubs cloth against cloth.

— As soon as your clothes are off, his cock is inside of you, hips plush against yours. Skin slapping, tongue and teeth, your head lolled back in ecstasy…

— Leon needed this vacation. ౨ৎ

[wonyowonyo]

Tales of Arcana (Y. "Karina" Jimin X M! Reader)

Alas! The much awaited Karina oneshot is finally here. I actually was wrong when I stated earlier that I was finished with the story, since I had to do many last minute revisions that my back hurts like a bitch rn. I actually tried new things in this fic, such as using your perspective instead of the usual 3rd Person stuff. This is also my first time writing a fantasy-themed oneshot! So I'm apologizing in advance if it may seem like a mess, as I tried my best to finish this as a whole before I take my awaited rest. And this is also my longest work right now, reaching 7.5k! I never knew I could write that much lmao. Anyways, enough with the yapping and let's actually get into this one! Hope yall enjoy this one and I'll catch yall next time, wonyowonyo out!

New Arcadia is a city of contrasts, where magic and technology intertwine in a delicate dance. The neon lights of the skyscrapers illuminate the streets below, casting eerie glows on the cobblestones and alleyways. Magic is everywhere—in the air you breathe, the water you drink, and the very fabric of reality itself.

You, Y/N, are a Disenchanter, a specialist in nullifying magical artifacts and spells. Once, you had a promising career at the Arcane Institute, a prestigious institution dedicated to the study and control of magic. But an experiment and an incident gone wrong five years ago changed everything. Branded a pariah and a traitor, you were banished and forced fled into the underbelly of the city, where you now work at 'The Gloom,' a bar that caters to New Arcadia's magical misfits and outcasts.

The Gloom is a haven for those who live on the fringes of society. The patrons are a mix of spell-slingers, rogue alchemists, and enchanted creatures, each more bizarre than the last. Your boss, Grimgar, is a grumpy old troll who treats you like just another cog in his crumbling empire. Your coworkers are a motley crew of fae and shapeshifters who come and go like the wind.

Tonight is like any other. The bar is packed with its usual clientele, and you're busy mixing potion-infused cocktails behind the bar. As you work, you notice a familiar figure enter the bar. It's Karina, a former colleague from the Arcane Institute. Her eyes meet yours, and a flicker of recognition crosses her face.

"Y/N! You're here? I thought you were... well, vanished into the ether."

Your heart skips a beat. You quickly make your way over to her, grabbing her arm and dragging her outside before she can say more. As you leave, you hear her tell her companions she'll be back soon, claiming, "My old friend wants a private chat. Who am I to refuse?" Their laughter echoes as you exit out the back door into a dimly lit alley.

————————————————————

Once in the alley, you release Karina and hiss, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Karina's eyes glint in the dim light. "I didn't even know you were still around. Rumor was that you angered the Elder Council, and they put a curse on you. Every bounty hunter in the city was after you."

You shove her away. "That's right. I had no place to hide, so I fled to this corner of New Arcadia to lay low... What was supposed to be temporary became five years."

Karina smirks. "Actually, I'm working on a big heist. There's a relic in the heart of the city, guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights. My team isn't up to the task, but you... you could nullify the defences."

You shake your head, turning away. "Not a chance. That life is over. I have a new one now."

As you start to return to the bar, you hear the distinct click of a magical ward activating. Karina's voice is cold. "You know, Y/N, there's still a bounty on your head, and I'm willing to collect."

You freeze, realizing the trap you're in. You turn slowly to face her, your mind racing. "What's your game, Karina?"

Karina steps closer, her expression softening slightly. "I don't want to turn you in, Y/N. I need your help. This heist is important. It's not just about the relic—there's more at stake than you know."

You narrow your eyes. "And why should I trust you?"

Karina sighs. "Because we were friends once. Because I know you, and I believe you're the only one who can pull this off. And because if you don't help me, the consequences will be far worse than anything the bounty hunters could do to you."

Reluctantly, you agree to hear Karina out. She leads you to a hidden safehouse in the depths of New Arcadia, where her team is waiting. The team is a ragtag group of specialists, each with their own unique skills.

Karina lays out the plan. The relic they're after is an ancient artifact known as the Heart of Thalos, hidden deep within a fortified vault in the heart of the city. The vault is guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights, and protected by powerful magical wards. Your role is crucial—you'll need to nullify the wards and the dragon's defences to give the team a fighting chance.

The plan is risky, but you can't deny the thrill of the challenge. It's been years since you've done anything like this, and part of you misses the excitement. As you listen to Karina's detailed strategy, you begin to see the pieces falling into place.

However, you're still hesitant. The life of a Disenchanter isn't what you want anymore. You've built a new life, a quieter one, away from the chaos of magic and danger. Just as you're about to decline, a commotion erupts outside the safehouse. A group of bounty hunters has tracked you down, having followed Karina's trail.

————————————————————

The bounty hunters storm the safehouse, weapons drawn and spells at the ready. Karina's team springs into action, defending their hideout with everything they've got. You find yourself in the thick of it, your Disenchanter skills becoming the key to survival.

As spells fly and blades clash, you focus on nullifying the attackers' magic. With each gesture, you dispel their enchantments, turning the tide in your favor. Giselle's brute strength keeps the enemies at bay, while Winter's agility and Ninging's illusions create confusion and chaos among the bounty hunters.

Karina fights alongside you, her combat prowess just as sharp as you remember. Together, you push back the attackers, slowly gaining the upper hand. The battle is fierce, but eventually, the last bounty hunter falls, their spells fizzling out as they collapse.

In the aftermath of the fight, you realize the gravity of the situation. The bounty on your head isn't going away, and neither is the danger that comes with it. You look at Karina, who is nursing a minor wound from the battle.

"Fine," you say, breathing heavily. "I'll help you with the heist. But this doesn't mean I'm back for good."

Karina nods, a relieved smile spreading across her face. "That's all I ask, Y/N. Just this one job. After that, you can decide what you want to do."

Over the next few days, as you prepare for the heist, you find yourself growing closer to Karina again. The shared danger and old camaraderie bring back memories of your time at the Arcane Institute. You catch her smiling at you more often, and you can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about the heist.

One evening, as you're fine-tuning the final details of the plan, Karina pulls you aside. "Y/N, I've been thinking... After this heist, maybe we could—"

Before she can finish, Winter interrupts with an urgent update on the vault's security changes. You share a knowing look with Karina, silently agreeing to revisit the conversation later.

————————————————————

The night of the heist arrives. The team assembles at the edge of the city, ready to embark on the mission. You feel a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you don your gear and prepare to face the dangers ahead.

Karina leads the way, her confidence and determination infectious. You follow her through the winding streets and alleys, moving silently and swiftly. The closer you get to the vault, the tighter the security becomes. You use your Disenchanter skills to disable the magical wards and traps, clearing the path for the team.

Finally, you reach the vault. The dragon is a formidable guardian, its scales glinting in the dim light. The enchanted knights stand ready, their weapons poised to strike. This is the moment of truth.

With a deep breath, you step forward, focusing your energy on the dragon and the knights. Your powers surge, nullifying their enchantments and rendering them vulnerable. The team moves in, engaging the dragon and the knights in a fierce battle.

As the dragon falls and the last knight is defeated, Karina makes her way to the vault door. She uses a combination of spells and lockpicking skills to unlock the door, revealing the Heart of Thalos—a glowing, pulsating artifact of immense power.

Karina carefully retrieves the Heart, her eyes shining with triumph. "We did it," she says, turning to you with a smile.

But before you can celebrate, the ground beneath you shakes. The vault begins to collapse, triggered by the removal of the Heart. The team scrambles to escape, racing against time as the structure crumbles around you.

You and the team make a mad dash for the exit, dodging falling debris and collapsing walls. Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to the limit, using every ounce of your strength and agility to stay ahead of the destruction.

As you reach the exit, a massive piece of rubble falls towards you. Karina shouts your name, her voice filled with fear. In that split second, you realize just how much she means to you. You throw yourself out of the way, narrowly avoiding the falling debris.

Outside the vault, you collapse to the ground, panting and exhausted. The team is safe, but the Heart of Thalos is gone, buried beneath the rubble. Karina kneels beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. "Yeah, just... barely made it."

Karina helps you to your feet, her grip steady and reassuring. "Thank you, Y/N. We couldn't have done this without you."

————————————————————

In the aftermath of the heist, you and the team return to the safehouse. The Heart of Thalos is secured, and the danger has passed. As the team celebrates their success, you find yourself alone with Karina.

She takes your hand, her touch gentle but firm. "Y/N, I need to tell you something."

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding. "What is it, Karina?"

She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "I've missed you. These past five years, I've thought about you every day. Seeing you again, working with you... it's made me realize that I still care about you. A lot."

You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that you've longed for. "Karina, I..."

She steps closer, her voice soft but earnest. "I know you said this was just one job, but... what if it wasn't? What if we did this together, for real? It's complicated, and I know we've both changed. But I want to see where this goes. If you're willing."

You turn to her, your heart pounding. "You mean, like old times?"

Karina nods, her eyes hopeful. "Yeah. Like old times. But better. We can make a difference, Y/N. We can use our skills to protect the city, to fight for those who can't fight for themselves."

You take a deep breath, considering her words. The life of a Disenchanter is dangerous and unpredictable, but it's also where you belong.

You look into her eyes, seeing the hope and vulnerability there. In that moment, you realize that despite everything, you still care deeply for her too. The heist has reminded you of the thrill of adventure, but more importantly, it's shown you that there's still a place for love in your life.

With a smile, you squeeze her hand. "I'm willing, Karina. Let's see where this goes."

She smiles back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you, Y/N."

————————————————————

The day after the heist, you and Karina wake up in the safehouse, the morning light filtering through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The team is still asleep, exhausted from the previous night's escapades. You feel a mixture of relief and anticipation as you think about the Heart of Thalos, now securely hidden in a magical vault beneath the safehouse.

Karina stirs beside you, her eyes fluttering open. She smiles, her face soft and relaxed. "Morning, Y/N."

"Morning," you reply, your heart warming at the sight of her.

Before you can say more, Giselle enters the room, her booming voice shattering the peaceful moment. "We've got a problem."

You and Karina jump to your feet, following Giselle to the main room where the rest of the team is gathering. Winter and Ningning look tense, their eyes darting to the entrance.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Winter holds up a small, enchanted device. "This was found outside the safehouse. It's a tracker. Someone knows we're here."

Your blood runs cold. The bounty hunters must have planted it during the siege. Karina's face hardens with determination. "We need to move. Now."

You and the team quickly gather your belongings, preparing to leave the safehouse. As you step outside, you hear the distant sound of engines revving. A squadron of bounty hunters on motorcycles is speeding towards you, their eyes gleaming with greed.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Giselle roars, her enchanted strength crackling with energy.

You hesitate, but Karina pulls you along. "We need you, Y/N. Giselle  can handle them."

Reluctantly, you follow Karina and the team through the winding alleys of New Arcadia. The bounty hunters are relentless, their engines echoing through the narrow streets. You and the team split up, hoping to confuse your pursuers.

As you run, you use your Disenchanter skills to nullify the magical trackers the bounty hunters are using. The air is thick with tension, every corner potentially hiding an ambush.

Finally, you reach an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The team regroups, panting and exhausted. Giselle  arrives last, battered but victorious. "We need to lay low for a while," he says, his voice grim.

Inside the warehouse, you and Karina find a quiet corner. The adrenaline from the chase slowly fades, leaving you both feeling drained. Karina leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder.

"Y/N, I was so scared we'd get separated again," she whispers.

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her close. "I won't let that happen. Not again."

She looks up at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. Not after we've found each other again."

You tilt her chin up, your lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. When you finally pull back, you smile at her. "We'll face whatever comes together."

The team gathers in the center of the warehouse, discussing their next move. The Heart of Thalos needs to be kept safe, and the bounty hunters won't stop until they have it.

"We need to take the fight to them," Karina suggests, her eyes blazing with determination. "If we can find their leader and take him down, we can buy ourselves some time."

You nod, agreeing with her plan. "And I can use my Disenchanter skills to disrupt their operations. We need to hit them where it hurts."

Winter, Giselle , and Ningning agree, their resolve matching yours. Together, you formulate a strategy to infiltrate the bounty hunters' headquarters, a fortified building in the heart of New Arcadia.

————————————————————

Under the cover of night, you and the team make your way to the bounty hunters' headquarters. The building is heavily guarded, its perimeter bristling with magical wards and security measures. You take a deep breath, focusing your energy on nullifying the enchantments.

Karina leads the way, her nimble fingers deftly disabling the locks and traps. Winter and Giselle follow, their movements silent and precise. Ningning uses her illusion magic to create distractions, drawing the guards' attention away from your group.

Inside, the headquarters is a maze of corridors and rooms. You move cautiously, avoiding patrols and security cameras. Finally, you reach the central chamber where the bounty hunters' leader, a ruthless mage named Vesper, is holding court.

————————————————————

Vesper is a formidable opponent, his presence commanding and intimidating. He stands surrounded by his elite guards, his eyes narrowing as he spots your group.

"Well, well, well," he sneers. "The infamous Disenchanter and his ragtag team. You've caused me quite a bit of trouble."

You step forward, your voice steady. "It's over, Vesper. We're taking you down."

Vesper laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "You think you can stop me? With the council’s support, I’ll be more powerful than ever! You're all nothing but a thorn in my side."

The group was surprised with the sudden mention of the council. It seems that the figureheads of the city wasn’t as clean as they present themselves.

Karina eyes flash with anger. "We're more than that. We're here to end your reign of terror."

The battle erupts, a whirlwind of magic and steel. Vesper's guards are skilled, but your team fights with a fierce determination. You focus on nullifying Vesper's spells, creating openings for Giselle and Winter to strike.

Karina and Ningning work together, their combined magic creating powerful attacks that push Vesper back. The room crackles with energy as spells clash and swords meet.

Finally, with a powerful surge of your Disenchanter energy, you break through Vesper's defences. Giselle and Winter seize the opportunity, their combined strength overwhelming him. Vesper falls, his body crumpling to the ground.

With Vesper's defeat, the bounty hunters' organization crumbles. The team breathes a collective sigh of relief, the tension finally easing. You and Karina share a triumphant smile, the weight of the past few days lifting from your shoulders.

As you leave the headquarters, the dawn breaks over New Arcadia, the city bathed in a golden light. You feel a sense of hope and renewal, knowing that you've made a difference.

————————————————————

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of activity. Karina introduces you to her network of allies and informants, each with their own unique skills and connections. Together, you form a new team, dedicated to protecting New Arcadia from the hidden threats that lurk in the shadows.

Your days are filled with intense training sessions, honing your Disenchanter abilities and learning new techniques from your teammates. You work closely with Karina, who teaches you advanced combat tactics and spellcasting methods. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, rekindling the friendship and trust you once shared.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, you and Karina find yourselves alone in the training room. Sweat drips from your brows as you catch your breath, the air heavy with the scent of exertion and magic.

Karina grins, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're getting better, Y/N. I can barely keep up with you now."

You smile back, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "Thanks, Karina. I couldn't have done it without you."

She steps closer, her expression serious. "There's something I need to tell you. The Heart of Thalos... it's more than just a powerful artifact. It holds the key to a greater mystery, one that could change everything we know about magic."

Your curiosity piqued, you listen intently as Karina explains. "According to legend, the Heart is connected to an ancient source of magic known as the Nexus. If we can find the Nexus, we might be able to harness its power and protect New Arcadia from any threat."

The weight of her words sinks in. This mission is far more significant than you initially realized. The stakes are higher, and the risks greater, but the potential reward is too important to ignore.

"I'm with you, Karina," you say firmly. "We'll find the Nexus and unlock its secrets."

————————————————————

The quest for the Nexus takes you and your team to the far corners of New Arcadia. You follow leads and decipher cryptic clues, piecing together the puzzle one step at a time. The journey is fraught with danger, as powerful enemies seek to stop you at every turn.

One night, you find yourself deep within the city's ancient catacombs, searching for a hidden chamber said to contain vital information about the Nexus. The air is damp and musty, the only light coming from the faint glow of enchanted torches.

As you navigate the labyrinthine tunnels, you hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing behind you. You signal to the team to halt, your senses on high alert.

Winter, ever the keen observer, whispers, "We're being followed."

Karina nods, her eyes narrowing. "Prepare for an ambush. Stay sharp, everyone."

Moments later, a group of shadowy figures emerges from the darkness, their eyes glinting with malevolent intent. You recognize them as members of a notorious organisation, known for their ruthless pursuit of magical power.

The leader of the organisation, a tall figure shrouded in dark robes, steps forward. "You've meddled in matters beyond your understanding, Disenchanter. The Nexus is ours."

Without warning, the enemies attack. Spells crackle through the air, and weapons clash in a flurry of violence. You and your team fight with everything you've got, the confined space of the catacombs amplifying the intensity of the battle.

Karina unleashes a torrent of fireballs, her movements fluid and precise. Giselle wades into the fray, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower multiple foes at once. Winter darts between enemies, her daggers flashing in the dim light. Ninging conjures illusions to confuse and disorient the cultists, creating openings for the team to strike.

You focus on nullifying the cultists' spells, disrupting their magical attacks and turning the tide in your favor. The battle is fierce, but your training and teamwork prevail. One by one, the cultists fall, until only their leader remains.

Desperation flickers in the cult leader's eyes as he realizes he's outmatched. With a snarl, he raises his staff, channelling a powerful spell aimed directly at you. You react instinctively, raising your hand and nullifying the spell just before it reaches you.

The cult leader's eyes widen in shock, and he stumbles backward. "No... this can't be..."

Karina steps forward before she knocks the leader out cold. The group managed to hold captive a disarmed member of the organization. Karina points her sword at the man, her voice cold and commanding. "Tell us everything, What is your purpose and what you know about the Nexus, or you'll wish you hadn't crossed us."

The member, now disarmed and defeated, reluctantly reveals what he knows. “We’re a shadow organization for The Council, tasked to find the Nexus. The Nexus is a source of unimaginable power, hidden deep beneath the city. Only the Heart of Thalos can unlock its true potential. The Council plans to use the nexus as leverage to gain more power and to expand their control over the nation."

You exchange a glance with Karina, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The cult leader's information confirms your suspicions and provides a crucial lead.

With the cultists neutralized, you and your team press on, following the clues deeper into the catacombs. After hours of searching, you finally discover the hidden chamber. The walls are covered in ancient runes and symbols, glowing with a faint, otherworldly light.

In the center of the chamber stands an ornate pedestal, upon which rests a stone tablet. The tablet is inscribed with a detailed map, marking the location of the Nexus.

Karina carefully examines the tablet, her eyes scanning the intricate markings. "This is it, Y/N. The Nexus is real, and we've found the key to its location."

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The journey is far from over, but you've made significant progress. The map points to a secluded area in the heart of the city, a place known as the Veiled Sanctum.

————————————————————

The Veiled Sanctum is a place of legend, shrouded in mystery and protected by powerful wards. As you approach the sanctum, you feel the air hum with latent magic. The entrance is hidden behind a waterfall, accessible only by solving a series of complex puzzles.

Working together, you and your team navigate the challenges, using your combined knowledge and skills to unlock the sanctum's secrets. Each puzzle is more intricate than the last, but you press on, determined to reach the Nexus.

Finally, you stand before the entrance to the sanctum, a massive stone door adorned with ancient glyphs. Karina places the Heart of Thalos into a recessed slot in the door, and with a deep rumble, the door begins to open.

Inside, the sanctum is a breathtaking sight. The walls are lined with glowing crystals, casting a soft, ethereal light. In the center of the room stands a grand altar, upon which rests the Nexus—a swirling vortex of raw, untamed magic.

As you approach the altar, you feel a surge of power, unlike anything you've ever experienced. The Nexus pulses with energy, its potential both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Karina steps forward, her voice reverent. "This is it, Y/N. The source of all magic in New Arcadia. With the Nexus, we can protect the city from any threat."

Before you can respond, a powerful force slams into you, knocking you to the ground. You look up to see the cult leader, now imbued with dark magic, standing at the entrance to the sanctum.

"You fools," he snarls. "You think you can control the Nexus? It belongs to us!"

The final battle begins with a thunderous clash of magic and steel. The leader, empowered by the dark magic, is a formidable opponent. His attacks are relentless, and his spells crackle with malevolent energy.

You and your team fight with everything you have, determined to protect the Nexus and stop the cult leader. Karina unleashes her most powerful spells, while Giselle, Winter, and Ninging work together to keep the cult leader off balance.

The sanctum shakes with the intensity of the battle, crystals shattering and debris falling from the ceiling. You focus on nullifying the cult leader's dark magic, countering his spells and weakening his defences.

As the battle reaches its climax, the cult leader summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the cult leader's attack. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

When the light fades, you find yourself standing victorious. The cult leader lies defeated, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The Nexus pulses with a calming, soothing energy, its power now under your control.

Karina steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "We did it, Y/N. The Nexus is safe, and New Arcadia is protected for now."

You look at her, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and pride. "We couldn't have done it without you, Karina. We're a team."

Karina then stared at the horizon. “However, we still have more battles coming our way.”

In the heart of the Elder Council’s command chamber, tension hung thick in the air, charged with failure. The Elder of the Council, a tall figure draped in dark robes, slammed his gnarled fist against the ornate wooden table, sending inkpots and scrolls flying. His face was contorted with rage, the flickering candlelight revealing the deep lines of frustration etched into his skin.

"You incompetent fools!" he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Council members flinched, shifting uneasily in their seats as they awaited his next outburst. "The Nexus was ours for the taking, and yet you let it slip through your fingers! How could you let this happen?"

One advisor, shaking like a leaf, took a cautious step forward. "Elder, the shadow organization reported that their plans were compromised during the heist. They encountered unexpected resistance—"

The Elder cut him off, his patience evaporating. "Resistance? Is that all you have to offer? What good are your shadows if they cannot perform a simple task? We had everything arranged!"

The room fell silent, tension mounting. The Elder’s fury radiated like heat from a forge, and the air seemed to crackle with his barely-contained wrath. He paced like a caged beast, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution.

Finally, he turned sharply, pinning the advisor with a steely glare. "And who was responsible for this fiasco?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Reports indicate it was Y/N L/N," the advisor said, voice trembling. "They orchestrated the heist of the Heart of Thalos and led the resistance that thwarted our plans."

At the mention of your name, the Elder's fury ignited anew. "Y/N L/N! The banished pariah returns to haunt me?" He slammed his fist down again, this time hard enough to crack the table's surface. "After all these years, they dare to defy the Council? They will pay dearly for this!"

His breath quickened, a storm brewing in his chest. Memories of your betrayal flooded back, intertwining with the present chaos. You had once been one of his brightest students, but now you stood as a symbol of everything he despised—defiance, rebellion, and the power of unity.

"You think you can simply waltz back into my domain, Y/N L/N? You will regret ever crossing me!" The Elder's eyes gleamed with a mix of anger and determination, his mind already plotting revenge. "Prepare the enforcers. Mobilize every resource we have. Y/N L/N and their little band of rebels will be crushed beneath my heel."

As he raged, the advisors exchanged anxious glances, knowing full well the consequences of angering the Elder. "We will not let them gain any more power," one advisor stammered, trying to placate him. "We will gather forces and track them down."

"See that you do!" The Elder snapped, his voice a thunderous declaration. "For every moment they breathe free air, they mock our authority. This ends now." His voice simmered with menace, sealing the fate of New Arcadia in his vengeful hands.

————————————————————

The next morning, as you and Karina are planning your next steps, a messenger arrives at the safehouse. He hands you a sealed letter bearing the mark of the Elder Council. You break the seal and read the letter, your heart sinking with each word.

The Council has learned of your involvement in the heist and demands your immediate surrender. They threaten to unleash their full force against you and anyone who harbors you if you do not comply. The bounty on your head has doubled, and they are now actively mobilizing their forces to hunt you down.

Karina reads the letter over your shoulder, her expression hardening. "We can't let them do this, Y/N. We need to find a way to fight back."

You nod, feeling a mix of fear and determination. "But how? The Council is too powerful. We don't stand a chance against them."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with resolve. "We need allies. There are others in New Arcadia who oppose the Council's tyranny. If we can unite them, we might have a chance."

————————————————————

Over the next few days, you and Karina reach out to old friends and contacts, seeking allies in your fight against the Council. You find support among the city's disenfranchised, those who have suffered under the Council's oppressive rule.

One by one, you gather a diverse group of rebels, each with their own reasons for joining the cause. Few notable members also decided to join the cause. There's Irene, a former Council enforcer turned rogue; Key, a tech-savvy hacker with a grudge against the establishment; Wendy, a wind mage with a deep connection to the city's underground networks; Winter, a nimble thief who can slip through the tightest of spaces; Giselle, a warrior with enchanted strength; and Ningning, a spellcaster with a talent for illusion magic.

One night, you hold a clandestine meeting in a hidden underground chamber. The air is filled with tension and excitement as the gathered rebels discuss their grievances and share their hopes for a better future.

Irene speaks up, her voice steady and resolute. "The Council has ruled with an iron fist for too long. They've crushed anyone who dared to oppose them. It's time we stand together and fight back."

Key nods in agreement, his eyes flashing with determination. "We have the skills and the numbers. We can disrupt their communications, hack their systems, and turn their own technology against them."

Wendy adds, her voice filled with a quiet strength, "And I'll ensure we move swiftly and unseen through the city. The Council won't know what hit them."

Giselle, her muscles rippling with enchanted strength, clenches her fist. "Let them come. I'll take them all on."

Winter, slipping a dagger into her belt, grins. "And I'll make sure we get in and out without a trace."

Ningning conjures an illusion of the Council's command center, the room flickering with magical light. "I'll create distractions and keep them guessing. They won't know what's real and what's not."

Suddenly, the ground trembles as a group of Council enforcers burst into the chamber, having tracked your location. A fierce battle erupts, your newly formed resistance group immediately put to the test.

Irene moves with deadly precision, her training as a former enforcer evident in her swift, lethal strikes. She disarms an enemy and uses their weapon against them in a fluid motion. "We can’t let them break us now!" she shouts over the chaos.

Key and Wendy work in tandem, the hacker disrupting the enforcers’ communications while the wind mage creates a barrier of swirling air to deflect incoming attacks. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" Key yells, fingers flying over his portable console.

Giselle charges forward, her enchanted strength allowing her to take on multiple enforcers at once. She lifts a heavy piece of debris and hurls it at the enemies, scattering them like bowling pins. "Is that all you've got?" she taunts, her voice ringing with confidence.

Winter darts through the fray, using her nimbleness to slip past the enforcers' defences. She appears behind them, striking with precision before vanishing into the shadows again. "Over here!" she calls, drawing their attention and leading them into traps.

Ningning weaves illusions that confuse and misdirect the enforcers, causing them to strike at phantoms and shadows. "This way, no, that way!" she giggles, enjoying the chaos she creates.

Karina, her eyes blazing with magical energy, unleashes a torrent of fire to keep the enforcers at bay. You join her, using your Disenchanter skills to neutralize their magical wards and weapons. Together, you form an impenetrable defence.

The battle is intense, the small chamber echoing with the sounds of clashing steel and explosive magic. Despite the surprise attack, your group fights with a fierce determination, each member holding their ground. One by one, the enforcers fall, and the chamber falls silent once more.

As the dust settles, you look around at your allies, their expressions a mix of relief and determination. "This was just a taste of what’s to come," you say, your voice steady. "We need to be ready for anything."

————————————————————

The night of the assault arrives. The resistance moves through the city in small, coordinated groups, avoiding detection as they make their way to the Council's command center. The air is thick with tension and anticipation.

You and Karina lead the main strike team, your hearts pounding as you approach the heavily fortified building. Using your Disenchanter skills, you disable the magical wards protecting the entrance, allowing the team to breach the outer defences.

Inside, a fierce battle erupts. The Council's guards and enforcers are well-trained and heavily armed, but the members of the resistance fight with a fierce determination born of desperation and hope. Spells and bullets fly, the clash of steel and the roar of magic filling the air.

Irene charges ahead, her combat skills unmatched as she takes down guard after guard. "We need to push forward!" she yells, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Key, tapping into the building’s security system, manages to turn some of the automated defences against the Council’s own forces. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" he shouts, as the sound of automated gunfire joins the fray.

Wendy uses her control over the wind to disorient the guards, creating gusts that knock them off balance and leave them vulnerable. "Focus on the weak points!" she calls out, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges through the enemy lines, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower the guards with ease. She lifts a massive steel door, using it as a shield to block incoming fire. "Keep moving! I'll cover you!" she shouts.

Winter slips through the chaos, using her agility to navigate the tight spaces and flank the guards. She appears behind them, taking them out silently and efficiently. "We're almost there!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the tumult.

Ningning creates illusions that bewilder and distract the guards, making them strike at empty air or turn on each other. "Just a little more confusion," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

Karina, her magic blazing brighter than ever, fights by your side. Together, you make your way through the building, each step bringing you closer to the control room. You nullify the guards’ magical attacks while Karina counters with her own, creating a devastating combination.

The battle rages on, the corridors of the command center echoing with the sounds of conflict. Despite the overwhelming odds, your group fights with relentless determination, inching closer to your goal with every passing moment.

————————————————————

The final battle reaches its peak in the control room. The remaining Council leaders unleash their most powerful spells and weapons, determined to crush the rebellion once and for all.

You and Karina fight side by side, your movements perfectly synchronized. As you nullify the Council's spells, Karina counters with blasts of fire and lightning, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

Irene engages one of the leaders in a deadly dance of blades, her movements swift and precise. "You're going down!" she yells, striking with lethal accuracy.

Key, hacking into the command center's systems, disrupts their communications and disables their automated defenses. "I've got their security down! Focus on the leaders!" he calls out, sweat pouring down his face.

Wendy uses her wind magic to create a barrier, shielding the resistance from the leaders' attacks. "Hold the line!" she shouts, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges at one of the leaders, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower their defences. She grabs them and hurls them across the room, her voice a roar of defiance. "You're finished!"

Winter uses her agility to navigate the chaos, slipping through the tightest spaces to strike at the leaders from unexpected angles. "Keep them off balance!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the storm.

Ningning creates illusions that confuse and disorient the leaders, making them strike at phantoms and shadows. "They won't know what's real and what's not," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

The head of the Council, now cornered and desperate, summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the dark spell. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

Karina, sensing the moment of vulnerability, unleashes a powerful surge of magic that disrupts the vortex, causing it to collapse in on itself. "Now, Y/N! Finish it!" she yells, her voice filled with urgency.

With a surge of determination, you focus all your energy on the head of the Council, nullifying his dark magic and leaving him defenceless. Irene, Key, Wendy, Giselle, Winter, and Ningning join the final push, their combined efforts overwhelming the remaining Council members.

The head of the Council falls, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The command centre falls silent, the resistance standing victorious amid the wreckage. You and Karina share a triumphant look, knowing that the hardest part is over but that the fight for New Arcadia's future has only just begun.

————————————————————

In the aftermath of the battle, the resistance works to stabilise the city and establish a new order. You and Karina play key roles in the rebuilding efforts, using your skills and knowledge to help create a fairer, more just society.

The people of New Arcadia, inspired by your courage and determination, begin to rally around the new leadership. The city's magical misfits and outcasts find new hope and purpose, their talents and abilities finally recognized and valued.

One day, as you and Karina oversee the reconstruction of a devastated neighborhood, a young girl approaches you. Her eyes are wide with adIrenetion, and she clutches a small, hand-drawn picture of you and Karina fighting the Council.

"Thank you for saving us," she says, her voice filled with sincerity. "You're heroes."

You kneel down to her level, smiling. "We did it together. And now, it's up to all of us to make sure New Arcadia remains a place where everyone is free."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her expression filled with pride. "We've come a long way, Y/N. And we still have a lot of work to do. But I know we can build a better future."

————————————————————

As the city begins to heal, you and Karina take a moment to reflect on how far you’ve come. The bond between you has grown stronger, forged in the fires of battle and tempered by shared struggles and triumphs. The neon lights of New Arcadia shimmer in the distance, painting the night sky with vibrant hues.

Standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, you can hear the distant hum of life below, the mix of magic and technology creating an enchanting symphony. You turn to Karina, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights, and feel a rush of warmth.

With a soft smile, Karina gazes into your eyes, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and strength. “Y/N,” she starts, her voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, I feel like I’ve found a part of myself again. And that’s because of you.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you take a step closer, closing the distance between you. “I feel the same way, Karina. You’ve brought light back into my life when I thought it was lost forever.” The sincerity in your voice resonates in the quiet night.

She reaches up, cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing your cheek. “I know we’ve faced so much uncertainty, but I want you to know that I love you, Y/N. I truly do.” Her confession hangs in the air, filled with the weight of truth.

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest. “I love you too, Karina. With all my heart.” The words come out effortlessly, a promise wrapped in passion and commitment.

With a gentle smile, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s next for us?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought of the future.

Karina’s eyes glimmer with excitement, and she takes a step closer, her breath mingling with the cool night air. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Always.” Her voice is filled with determination, but there’s also a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

You lean in, and the world around you fades away. At that moment, nothing else matters but the two of you. As your lips meet, it’s as if the city itself holds its breath. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration, but it deepens, fueled by the unspoken promise of adventure and the intensity of your shared experiences.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, the city lights reflecting in her eyes like a thousand stars. “I never thought I’d find someone like you in all this chaos,” you whisper, your forehead resting against hers.

Karina chuckles softly, her breath warm against your skin. “And I never thought I’d get a second chance to be with you.” Her fingers intertwined with yours, and you can feel the strength and comfort in her grip.

“I know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as we’re together, I’m ready to face them,” you say, your heart steady with resolve.

Karina nods, a playful smile lighting up her face. “Let’s make a pact. No matter what happens, we never lose sight of each other. Promise?”

“Promise,” you reply, sealing it with another kiss, this one filled with hope and longing. You pull back slightly, studying her face, and in that moment, you realize how lucky you are to have found love amidst the chaos.

As the night deepens, you both take a moment to savor the city’s magic—the flickering lights, the distant sounds of laughter, and the vibrant energy that surrounds you. Hand in hand, you step into the night, the world unfolding before you like a canvas waiting to be painted with your adventures.

With Karina by your side, you’re ready to embrace whatever the future holds—be it danger, excitement, or the sweet moments of peace in between. Together, you’ll write a new story, one filled with passion, courage, and endless possibilities. And as you walk towards the horizon, you know this is just the beginning of your incredible journey.

[wifeyoozi]

🍚 : Help me! My rival producer is annoying but like so damn sexy

insp. by this by @sluttywonwoo ,, smut ,, hate sex kinda

The tension between you and Jihoon had been building for months. As rival producers in the same company, it seemed like you were constantly pitted against each other. Your styles clashed, your opinions differed, and every time you were in the same room, the air seemed charged with an electric kind of animosity. It didn't help that the company often messed up the studio schedule, forcing you both to share the space far more often than was comfortable.

Today was no different. You stormed into the studio, only to find Jihoon already there, headphones on and deep in concentration. He glanced up as you entered, his expression immediately darkening.

"Again?" you snapped, throwing your bag onto a chair. "Seriously, how hard is it to schedule us at different times?"

Jihoon pulled off his headphones, looking equally irritated. "Believe me, I'm just as tired of this as you are," he shot back. "But we're both professionals. Can we just get through this without another fight?"

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was right. The constant bickering was exhausting. You set up your equipment on the other side of the room, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened every time you looked his way. There was something about Jihoon that always got under your skin—his confidence, his talent, the way he seemed to effortlessly command respect.

Hours passed with the two of you working in silence, the only sound being the occasional click of a mouse or the soft hum of music. The tension was palpable, like a storm cloud ready to burst. It wasn't until you accidentally bumped into him, trying to reach for a cable, that the dam broke.

"Watch it," he muttered, grabbing your wrist to steady himself. The touch sent a jolt through you, the contact burning like a live wire.

"Let go," you hissed, pulling your hand back. But instead of releasing you, Jihoon stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, a cocktail of anger and something else—something raw and primal.

"You know what? I'm sick of this," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe we should just settle this once and for all."

"Settle what?" you shot back, heart racing. "Who's the better producer? Who cares?"

Jihoon's lips curled into a smirk, his grip on your wrist tightening just slightly. "That's not what I meant," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This thing between us... let's end it."

Before you could respond, Jihoon's mouth crashed onto yours, the kiss rough and demanding. It was as if all the pent-up frustration, all the unspoken tension, erupted in that single moment. You responded with equal fervor, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, becoming a battle for dominance. You bit his lip, he groaned in response, and soon you found yourself pressed against the studio's couch, Jihoon looming over you. You pushed him back just enough to flip the situation, straddling his lap, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"So, this is your idea of settling things?" you taunted, grinding against him, feeling the hardness beneath his jeans. "Fine. Let's see who's really in control."

Jihoon's eyes darkened with lust and challenge. "You think you can handle it?" he shot back, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements.

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "Watch me."

With a swift motion, you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it carelessly. Your own clothes followed, the urgency and heat between you making quick work of buttons and zippers. Jihoon shifted, helping you out of your pants, until the two of you were skin to skin, the heat of your bodies intensifying the electric atmosphere.

Jihoon's hands roamed over your body, exploring, teasing. You gasped as his fingers found your wetness, sliding against your folds with expert precision. The sensation was maddening, and you rocked against his hand, desperate for more.

"God, you're so wet," Jihoon muttered, his voice husky with desire. "You sure you're not the one who's going to lose control?"

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you reached down, gripping his erection cock and positioning it at your entrance. The feel of him, hot and hard, against your slick folds made you moan softly.

Without another word, you sank down onto him, taking him in inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure as his big girth stretched you. Jihoon let out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you began to move.

You set the pace, riding him with a fierce intensity, your movements a silent declaration of dominance. Jihoon matched you thrust for thrust, his eyes locked onto yours, daring you to look away.

"Fuck, you're tight," he hissed, his voice strained. "You think you can keep this up?"

You smirked, leaning in to kiss him hard, your teeth grazing his lower lip. "You have no idea what I can do," you whispered against his mouth, before pulling back and riding him even harder.

The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the slap of skin on skin, the breathy gasps and moans of pleasure. The friction, the heat, the undeniable chemistry—it was intoxicating, driving you both to the brink.

Jihoon's hands roamed over your body, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. The sensation made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips. He took advantage of your distraction, thrusting up into you with renewed vigor, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"You like that?" he growled, his voice rough. "Admit it, you love this."

You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped you, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. "Oh, just shut up and fuck me," you gasped.

Jihoon chuckled darkly, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder, deeper. "Say it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how much you love this."

You were too far gone to resist, the pleasure consuming you. "I love it," you breathed, your voice trembling with the intensity of your orgasm building. "I love it, Jihoon."

His name on your lips seemed to drive him over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, Jihoon buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reached his climax. The sensation pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathing heavily, the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your bodies. For a moment, there was only silence, the reality of what just happened settling over you like a blanket.

Finally, Jihoon spoke, his voice rough but softer now. "This doesn't change anything," he said, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "I know," you replied, though you weren't entirely sure what this even was anymore.

[pickingupmymercedes]

I didn't get scared. I'm always scared - Lewis Hamilton

request: hiiiii ok just an idea. maybe angsty one where lewis injured himself fighting someone to defend/protect reader?

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: Lewis thinking he's superman, mentions of possible accidents

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Angsty incoming. Anon, I cut the request because it gave away the plot, but it's there, thank you for sending it btw ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The metallic tang of blood filled the air, acrid and sharp. You stared at Lewis' hands, once smooth and strong, now marred by angry red welts and split knuckles. The throbbing thrum of the club was a distant echo in your ears, replaced by the pounding of your own heart, a furious counterpoint to the ragged gasps escaping Lewis' lips.

"Why did you do that?" You spat the words, a bitter cocktail of anger and terror swirling in your gut.

He flinched, the sharp intake of breath making him hiss through his teeth. "Had to" he rasped, wincing as he tried to flex one of his mangled fingers.

"Had to?" You slammed a first aid kit onto the coffee table, the clatter making him flinch again. The smug satisfaction that briefly flickered across his face only fueled your rage.

"He wouldn't leave you alone," Lewis defended himself, his voice tight. "You wouldn't have liked it."

You threw your hands up in the air, disbelief twisting your voice. "I wouldn't like it if you ended up in the hospital because of some drunken idiot!"

He remained stubbornly silent, focusing on the sting of alcohol as you dabbed at the wounds with antiseptic wipes. Each touch was punctuated by your frustrated sighs, making the silence stretch tighter, a taut rope threatening to snap.

"What were you thinking, Lewis?" you finally said, your voice quiet but loaded with venom. "I don’t need you to act like some kind of knight."

A muscle in his jaw clenched. "I was protecting you."

"By playing hero?" You scoffed. "What happens when you can't? When you get seriously hurt?”

He finally met your gaze, the storm brewing in your eyes mirrored in his own. "That’s not a situation I want to consider."

The flippancy of his statement was the final straw. You slammed the wipes down on the table, making him flinch once more. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring his angry form.

He sighed, a hint of frustration leaving his voice. "Look, I get it. You got scared."

The pitying tone did nothing to soothe your anger. You snatched up the first aid kit, shoving it back into the drawer with a slam. Your body trembled with a mix of emotions you couldn't name, couldn't control.

"I didn’t get scared, I’m always scared" you mumbled to yourself, the words a hollow echo in your mind as you stormed out, the apartment door slamming shut behind you with a deafening thud. Tears streamed down your face as you stumbled down the hallway, needing space, needing anything to escape the suffocating anger and the unacknowledged fear that gnawed at you.

The rhythmic thump of the city at night was a needed counterpoint to the frantic drumming of your heart. You found yourself wandering around Kensington, the cool night air doing little to quell the firestorm raging within you. Lewis' bruised hand, his cocky declaration of protecting you, flashed in your mind again and again.

The anger, that had felt so raw earlier, had begun to morph into something far more complex - fear, hurt, and a strange helplessness.

The truth, the terrifying one, was that you cared more for him than you'd ever intended to. But admitting that was a terrifying prospect.

He was an enigmatic F1 champion, the world at his fingertips, and he deserved someone strong, someone who could handle the risks that came with his life.

You weren't sure you fit that mold; you weren’t even sure you wanted to. Maybe you had fallen for the wrong guy, the one who thrived on danger, the one leaving a trail of worry and fear in his wake.

But you loved him, and until now that had felt enough.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, you found yourself back in front of your apartment building. The lights in your living room were dark, the silence inside a stark contrast to the cacophony within you.

Pushing open the door, you tiptoed inside. The air hung heavy, thick with unspoken tension. You caught sight of a rumpled blanket on the couch, a half-empty glass of water beside it. But no sign of Lewis.

You longed to talk, to scream at him, to drown him in the conflicting emotions churning within you. But your feet seemed glued to the spot, the energy drained from a night spent battling your own emotions.

You collapsed onto the sofa, the silence wrapping itself around you like a suffocating cloak, the smell of him clinging to the fabric of the blanket he had left behind.

The morning crawled in, a sluggish beast carrying the weight of the previous night. You don’t remember falling asleep but you woke with a raw throat and heavy eyelids, the events of the club a throbbing ache in your body and chest.

There, in the kitchen stool sat Lewis. His eyes, usually sharp with focus, looked dimmed, shadowed by fatigue as he stared into nothing. The sight of his bruised hands, still sporting bandages, sent a fresh pang of anger through you.

"Lewis" you started; your voice rough from sleep.

He turned towards you, a flicker of something resembling hope flitting across his face. "Hey" he said, his voice gruff. "You’re awake"

"Yeah," you replied, crossing your arms defensively sitting up straight. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken tension.

"Look…" he began, but you cut him off.

"Don't," you said, your voice tired. "Don't try to explain it away. You nearly got yourself seriously hurt."

He sighed, a deep rumble that reverberated through you. "I did what I thought I had to do."

"And what about me?" you sincerely asked, the words tumbling out, fueled by a night of pent-up emotions. "What about how I felt seeing you like that? Do you even care?"

Lewis didn't flinch. He simply held your gaze, his brown eyes reflecting a vulnerability that took your breath away. "That's exactly why I care" he said, his voice low. "Because seeing the fear in your eyes..." he trailed off, his jaw clenching. "It scares the hell out of me"

A confused silence followed. "I told you, Lewis," you finally said, your voice thick with emotion. "I don't need a knight in shining armor. I can handle myself."

"But, that's not the point, is it?!" he countered, his voice firm yet gentle. "You’re not really scared of needing physical protection. It's about..." He paused, seeming to wrestle with his words.

The raw honesty in his voice cracked the dam holding back your own torrent of emotions. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“The danger. It's a constant threat hanging over my head. Every time you get in that car. What happens when the unthinkable happens? How do I deal with that?" you cried, your voice raw with a mixture of anger and fear. “Do you even understand what it’s like for me? To love someone who lives every day like it might be their last?”

Lewis sat back, his face softening as he listened, truly listened. “I know” he said quietly “I know it’s hard. And I understand that the way I live my life… it’s a lot to ask” his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. He stopped just before you, his gaze holding yours.

“And where does that leave me?” You asked, voice trembling. “Always waiting, worrying if the next race will be the one where I lose you?”

"Look," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I can't promise you there won't be any danger. That's the nature of what I do. But what I can promise you is I will always be honest with you. We can talk about everything, the good, the bad, the terrifying."

He reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. His touch soothing at your soul. "And if you ever, ever want to walk away, I'll understand. But please." he pleaded, his voice husky "Don't shut me out. Let's at least try and figure this out."

You saw the fear reflected in his eyes, the fear of losing you. And you realized, with a jolt that stole your breath, that this wasn't just about danger, about Lewis taking risks. It was about your own vulnerabilities, your own fear of letting yourself care about someone who lived on the edge, someone who didn’t exactly offer you the type of stability you had always thought you needed.

But Lewis was someone who gave you the kind of love you couldn’t see yourself without anymore.

"There has to be a line. A point where you consider the consequences, not just for yourself, but for the people who care about you." you began, your voice still husky.

He nodded, his thumb gently tracing circles on your palm. " We draw that line together, okay?"

You took a deep breath, finally acknowledging the emotions swirling within you. "Okay," you whispered, the word barely audible. "But this doesn't mean I'm going to be okay with every reckless decision you make."

A relieved smile softened Lewis’ feature. "I know" he said, his voice sincere. " We'll communicate, even when it's hard."

Hesitantly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the bandage on his hand. The warmth of his skin sent a familiar spark through you. A fragile hope warmed your chest, battling against the ever-present fear. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to navigate this crazy world Lewis lived in.

"So, what do we do now?" you asked, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. Lewis' smile widened, a genuine warmth radiating from him. "How about pancakes?"

You smiled nestling in his arms "Pancakes sound perfect," you agreed, the tension finally starting to ease.

"One more thing” he suddenly prompted, reaching for your face so he was looking at you “Yeah?" you nodded, eyes gleaming.

"No more bottling things up. Neither of us." He held your gaze for a moment, a silent promise passing between you. "Promise" you vowed; your voice sincere as he looked at you hopeful, his lips curling into the smile that had the power to make you forget about pretty much anything.

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[rosiesmuts]

The Temptations of Jennie Kim

BLACKPINK Jennie

Words: 4,000

A/N: Boo! 👻

Jennie Kim is a pure unadulterated bitch.

Obstacle one is making it past the bouncer; having your name on the guest list makes that an easy task. Obstacle two is the sea of people; a VIP wristband solves that little inconvenience. Your expected prize for completing these side quests is a night of dancing, ending with divulging in the salacious body of a world famous idol. The light at the end of the tunnel is anything but. Obstacle three is something you couldn't see coming. That world famous idol has already found her seat, only it's on the lap of another man.

Your mind goes a million miles a minute trying to figure out a plan:

1) 'I should go up and confront her.' No, causing a scene wouldn't be good for anyone.

2) 'Fuck this I should just go home.' No, I can't let her just win so easily.

3) 'Fuck it, I'm already here, might as well grab a drink.' I guess this is the winner.

Probably not the best plan, but the one you've chosen.

"Don't tell me you're obsessed over her too."

An unfamiliar voice. Your eyes follow the voice, finding yourself face to face with a beautiful woman. It shouldn't be a surprise, this club is crawling with them. Too busy wallowing in your pity to notice her join your table and too late now to do anything about it.

"Huh?" Admittedly not the most suave response, but it's the one that comes blurting out.

"Jennie. Half the guys here are just sitting here staring at her, what's so special about her anyway?"

"Are you really surprised? BLACKPINK is a pretty big deal. Besides I want staring I was just-"

"Look at yourself, you're even sneaking in little peeks while talking to me."

Her hand is placed under your chin, forcing you to finally take a good look at her. You start to speak but she cuts you off.

"What’re you drinking?"

"Whiskey."

It's rare to see a woman take control. And here you were, sitting face to face with one. She flags someone down and orders you a fresh drink.

"What's your name?" You regret your lame choice of ice breaker the moment it's said out loud.

"Unimportant. Let's just have some fun and see where it leads."

Maybe there is a god. So far nothing you've said could be constituted as smooth, yet here she was, still giving you a chance.

Where things led was more surprises: first, a dance. A hot body pressed close and shaking, accompanied by a mind clouding cocktail of scents. Your eyes dart all over her: the glow of the mysterious woman's pale skin under the multicolored lights; her plump lips; her toned midriff.

"Still thinking about Jennie? I think you've got enough room to squeeze me in."

Both her hands come to rest at your hips, gently pushing yours forward and squeezing your body closer to hers. Your eyes lock, the music from the club fades out, and you find yourselves with your noses an inch away. This insanely hot girl, not the one you intended to spend tonight with, but not the worst thing you can think of right now. The tip of her nose brushes yours and her hands push forward one last time, the kiss can only be delayed a second longer.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Jennie Kim has some nice timing. Just when you were about to give into this other woman, there was a tug on your shoulder and you're spun around–Jennie Kim's face, contorted with a mixture of anger and jealousy.

"You. Step the fuck back, he's not yours." Jennie shoves her hand out to your impromptu date, but that was apparently not an adequate barrier to keep her away. The girl comes up and wraps around your arm, not allowing Jennie to steal you away.

"He was until you got in my way."

"In case you didn't hear: step the fucking hell away." Jennie is nothing short of livid. People have stopped dancing, staring at the unfolding scene. Your new date notices the attention.

"Fine! He's not worth it anyway." And just like that your new acquaintance storms off, her hips and the smoke trailing from the bottom of her black dress being the last you'll ever see of her.

"Walk. Right. Now." Jennie drags you towards the hallway, likely intent on either berating or maiming you somewhere in private. In any other scenario it would sound like the fantasy of every man in South Korea, but right now you know it's bad.

A private room behind the dancefloor, a much better place to be killed and your corpse dumped than in front of hundreds of witnesses. She shuts the door with a slam hard enough you think it might shatter and locks it with an unnecessarily loud click.

"Who the fuck was that? You've only been here two minutes and you're already on top of another woman?!"

"Hey, hey, fuck you Jennie. Do you know what I saw when I came here? After you invited me? Oh you were totally there, sitting on another man's lap."

"That's not the same."

"Not the same my ass. Can you even begin to explain what it is then? No of course you can't. Because you're a spoiled fucking idol who does whatever the fuck you want."

You turn to leave, but are pulled back and receive a rough slap across the face. There's no pain, only the sudden red color filling up that side of your vision. She did it again. This time it brings with it the burning sensation. A stinging radiates across your cheek, an angry mark that burns more as the adrenaline fades.

Then in almost cliche like fashion you grab her face and slam her into the nearby wall, returning her slap with an aggressive kiss. Jennie doesn't try to pull away, in fact she gives just as much as she receives. If her jealousy made her slap, her frustration makes her kiss harder, her teeth digging in slightly at her efforts.

"Someone is still obsessed with me hmm~?"

"Fuck you." The reply is snarled out through the tears in your teeth.

"Why don't you? Make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to. You weren't even interested in that slut anyway. All you could think about was me."

Any rebuttal was silenced the instant a hand traced the outline of the bulge forming in your jeans. No words need to be said; she's right, there's only her. Her face, her smell, her voice. Jennie bites your collarbone through the shirt to try and get a rise and boy does it. A firm hand groping her behind and pulling her into you, meeting the hardness growing in your jeans. Jennie chuckles, enjoying the reaction.

"Do it. Go ahead."

Jennie fucking Kim. The girl of your dreams. The girl of your nightmares. You've fallen into her trap. What's happening right now can only be described as karma's cruel payback, an attempt to dangle your greatest desire right in front of your nose–before a final humiliating insult is slapped on it.

"You little bitch." Jennie taunts you, unraveling her flirtatious intentions as her skirt rides higher and higher along with your patience. "Go on. Put me through the wall. Pull it out and fuck me as hard as you can."

It would be too easy, wouldn't it? Giving her what she wants after what she did. Instead she's dragged to the couch and bent over you knees. Jennie yelps in surprise, before realizing what's coming to her.

SMACK.

"I didn't say stop." Jennie responds after feeling the forceful slap at her backside.

Another. Jennie cries out, before letting the sweetest sounds come tumbling out of her mouth. Your palm raises once more, pauses, and then swings down and impacts against the exposed skin. A large pink spot forms on the exposed skin as a result and you're starting to think Jennie is actually getting turned on.

"P-please."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

Her panties are brushed to the side and two fingers plunge in and begin exploring without any warning. Jennie squeaks and curls up at the sudden and bold invasion, but it doesn't take long before those two fingers find the sweet spot and stimulate a cascade of pleasurable electricity. In and out they go, aided in their efforts by the squelch of their occupant's excitement. The couch rocks as Jennie arches and bucks wildly, alternating between sporadic whimpers and full on screams of delight.

"I'm so close...so so close..."

Your fingers pull free then another smack against her ass again, interrupting her moment of bliss.

"You think you deserve to cum Jennie? Hmm?"

Jennie answers with an arch to her back, a long, sensual moan that turns into a low pitched growl.

"Yes...Yes...just let me cum please please."

She's grinding at the air, her desperation on full display. You're just a few seconds away from finishing her, of making this cute bitch cry out and go rigid as waves of pleasure radiate all the way from her groin to the rest of her body.

"Feel that pressed against your stomach Jennie? I think you need to suck it. Prove you deserve it."

Her feet meet the ground as she kneels between you legs, and with a final lustful glance, begins to pull away the zipper to your jeans. "You're a real fucker aren't you? Fine, I'll show you."

Down goes your underwear, tossed to the side of the couch, and up Jennie comes with the heaving package in her face. A tiny lick along the bottom of the shaft and then a more robust and adventurous one the entire length. No preamble this time, only the sudden heat and wetness as the girl with a history of petty remarks envelopes your member, coiling her tongue around the sensitive areas and sinking further into your lap.

This girl, Jennie Kim. How can she be so talented at such a crude act? The walls of her mouth shift in a thousand ways as she draws a throaty groan out of you, her tongue expertly knowing all the ways to drive you crazy. This fucking bitch, going deep, purposely drooling all over it, and looking up in satisfaction as she gags and chokes. Up and down she goes, swallowing and sucking back a mouthful every single time she rises. The picture perfect idol, loving nothing more than a throat full of cock, a wide streak of mascara under her eyes and spit all over her face.

The room grows ever hotter, the look in Jennie's eyes begging, imploring for you not to hold back. You sit upright and clutch onto her hair, fingers locking as tight as possible to guide her, taking charge of her bobbing head, sending yourself all the way up to your pelvis. Her arms are limp, her face is a mess, you've reduced a famous singer and model to a panting wreck, and that sight is almost too much.

"Fuck my mouth..." the pleads of the famous superstar when you let her up for air. Her request is granted, her hair gets pulled and the momentum carries your pulsating member all the way to the base. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter until the tip of her nose touches the pubic bone and her jaw is stretched as wide as possible, the outline of the member embedded into her throat.

The unholy gags are the hottest fucking thing ever. And the little flutters, her struggle not to cough, the spasms. Jennie Kim, proudest bitch alive. Choking and gagging on your cock, no thoughts in her brain of anything else but to please. She loves it, she wants it. More, more, more, always more, begging with her eyes the only way she could.

With a heavy gasp, you finally let up, letting her burning lungs draw air. While she is a coughing wreck, her face slick with tears and saliva, the thought that fills the forefront of her mind is exactly what's about to happen. The thrill, the idea, the exhilaration, she can't contain the giggling smile.

Jennie was a bad girl, touching herself while you fucked her face, showing off her fingers covered in her own juices and licking them clean. This woman was going to be the end of you, that smirk.

"You and that stupid ass cock." Jennie takes matters into her own hands, straddling your lap, lining up the tip. She's in control, now she'll decide just how far you'll sink into her.

"Dumb fucking whore." Your fingers wrap around her delicate neck. Her eyes widen, not in fear, but in excitement. They darken, her pupils dilating, the clear response to the aggression is reflected in a quickened pulse under the flesh. It isn't surprising the more forceful you get, the wetter she seems to get.

And holy fuck it feels so fucking good, Jennie's lower lips engulfing your tip. The walls of her cavern part and pull you deep within her, her breathing changes pace and volume, whimpering and panting as it sinks in further. She's warm, she's welcoming. Every inch is a bit tighter, the friction causing your heart rate to rise, and her arms, encircling you in a vice grip, coaxing a tighter hold on her throat. You can almost see the lightheaded effect it's having, the subtle shifts in her vision, the dream like daze that accompanies such euphoric sexual bliss.

Up and down Jennie bounces, the tempo of her breathing just a second out of synch, every moan coming just a second later. You don't try to hide your own pleasure either, groaning with a volume only a centimeter away from yelling and definitely noticeable beyond the walls. With a firm slap to the ass, her pussy responds in the best possible way; squeezing tightly for a moment and sending a pleasant shiver down your body.

Jennie fucking Kim. Her tightness, her perky tits, the fucking supermodel and worldwide heartthrob, riding you. That's a story to tell. The sight of this gorgeous bitch bouncing up and down like her life depends on it, the sound of flesh colliding reverberating throughout the room.

Her cries of pleasure come louder, with no sign of the fun ending any time soon. Another thrust and her eyes roll to the top of their sockets. The adorable scrunch in her nose, the contortion of the expression of carnal pleasure, the euphoria right after. The small smirk in the corner of her lips and the grinding of her hips into yours. She's close. Her face gives that away. Her walls pulsate, and if that doesn't sell it the pitch change of the moans certainly do. Her noises shift in timbre. Whines and loud whimpers, the sudden erratic nature.

There's no stopping her now, it's out of your control, and it's fucking beautiful. Jennie fucking Kim, cumming on your lap. Her thighs begin to spasm, a waterfall of juices spilling all the way down to the floor, pooling around your ankles. That fucking face, a cacophony of ecstasy. Then with one final, powerful groan, she suddenly stops. Her eyes shoot open and she curls up, freezing and grinding away. You pull her hair back, forcing the perfect idol to bare her neck and shriek, as her orgasm consumes her senses, her legs thrashing about and toes curled into their arches. Jennie fucking Kim came, her face red and a smile creeping upon the ends of her lips.

It's not over, not even close. Jennie's face a mask of desire, her breathing deep, still needing more, the short, panting breaths catching the tiny pieces of her hair waving across her face.

"Fuck me like you mean it." Jennie goads you on. Your hands wrap around her tiny waist, fingers digging into her flesh, and you start thrusting. Up into her body, down into her lap, each of her downward drops meeting a upward thrust, your hips meeting hers halfway. In no time her squeaky noises are echoing against the walls, your pelvic bones colliding hard, both of your bodies jerking about as you throw everything into each pump. Her eyes turn dark, a drunken gaze. Fuck yes, those lips curling back into a naughty, crazed smile.

"You can't fucking resist it can you?" Jennie screams the question, feeling your hands force her up and slam her back down with your hips surging forward. Her whole body lurching backwards from the impact and then snapping forward from the following motion. Another one, the smack of flesh meeting flesh resounding once more and the squirt of liquids spraying the air and wetting the sides of the couch. Jennie no longer cares, letting her body get fucked and then roughly jammed downwards and impaling herself repeatedly, filling the room with the loud slaps.

"You're nothing but a fucking whore aren't you?" You say it directly to her face and as expected the deprecating talk turns her on like nothing else. A genuine laugh followed by a growl and a "you want this tight pussy all for yourself?"

And another smack, a spank and a squeeze of her delicate ass. Her neck tilts backwards. Yes! Look into those deep pools, her gorgeous, intense stare. Losing control, that face, her mouth, it's open and wet and covered in saliva. That cute kittenish tongue sticking out of the edge of her lips.

Another thrust. Jennie's body flies forward from the impact, a lustful grin stuck on her face, burying your face in her small tits. Her chest jiggles with each pounding, a single moment of freedom followed by an instant of being engulfed in their softness. Those perfect mounds of flesh, enough to drive any sane man or woman mad with obsession, bouncing inches from your eyes, sweat coating their supple surface. Her giggle erupts and she sees that dumb smile plastered all over your face. Her nose rubs against your own. The stare is intense.

"We really fucking hate each other huh?" Jennie teases then goes in for a kiss. A sloppy, messy affair, her nails dig into your back, leaving a series of scratches as her pussy tightens around the engorged member within her. She's cumming again, the contractions drawing out another series of grunts.

"That's right, keep your dumb cock buried inside, you fucking love this tight pussy."

Oh how far this idol has fallen, the foulest mouth coming out the prettiest lips. Then she whispers in your ears to hold her hips tighter and fuck her harder, and fuck did you deliver. Her throaty groans filling your ears, a crescendo and a rapid beating pulse under your palms. You're close, this little superstar making sure you're as deep as you can be and clinging for dear life.

Jennie's hands wrap around your throat, squeezing, choking the life out of you, your vision blurring, and at the same time she's squirting a second wave and shaking violently. Her hips never stop moving, fucking herself silly. She doesn't stop, the nasty smirk has returned and a mumbled string of 'fuck fuck fuck' under her breath.

Jennie fucks you. Those perfect abs, her slim body, the smell of sex radiates all throughout. You're getting lightheaded, this cute piece of ass a violent whirl of raven hair and painful grip. The harder she orgasms, the harder she squeezes your neck. Then, stars start filling your field of vision and your vision goes white, the pulses start firing. Sick sadistic oxygen depravation brings one of the hardest orgasms in your life. That twisted smirk of the psychotic woman, the evil in her gaze as the heat fills the pit of her belly. She feels it, your load splashing inside of her womb. As you release, so do her fingers, the blood rushing back to your brain not a moment too soon.

Her expression, oh how proud she is for her conquest. You couldn't look anywhere else, this perfect devil in front of your eyes. The cute, tingly and erotic feeling flowing from your groin, it never stops and only grows, the continuous shots, emptying everything you have into her. This little fucking bitch, controlling you until the very end.

Jennie fucking Kim sits satisfied as you gasp for air, a mixture of confusion, satisfaction, and pleasure overwhelming your body. That beautiful little smirk, her hips rolling about, enjoying your final twitches before everything softens.

"See, now tell me that wasn't worth the wait."

Jennie collapses forward, a content sigh, a murmur in your ear about how her body feels. Your legs and feet tingle, a sort of numbness and buzz from the powerful waves of euphoria. Jennie stretches like a cat, all while nuzzling against your neck.

She leans in for a kiss, soft, gentle, uncharacteristically kind. Fingers thread into her hair, your palm resting against the side of her neck. She's warm, and tired, the once energetic and brash girl now settling down, almost vulnerable.

"You know why I keep coming back to you?" Jennie seems almost kind, running her hands through your hair and looking at you with loving eyes.

"Must be my big cock." You tease her, pinching her bum, and stealing another kiss in the process.

"Of course you can't be serious for a single fucking minute." Jennie shoves her shoulder against yours. "No you idiot. When we fuck, it's so fucking good. And look at you. Trying to act all tough, but when I tell you to fuck me harder you do just that. And when I tell you just like that you don't change pace for a moment."

The affection, her soft words. Jennie Kim loves to act hard, to show herself off. There's the world's most famous pop star, snuggled into your shoulder. Her finger tracing along the outline of your chin, the last few beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and her eyelashes. Jennie almost looks sweet, smiling down upon you. That signature gummy smile, the tiny dimple on one side. How can someone so rough, have such a charming side?

"Give me your jacket fucker."

Now this, this was much more of a Jennie thing to say. What a cute and silly request after something as passionate as what the two of you did. Jennie's sweat soaked body. Your brain is a fog, still lost in the moment, struggling to take the demand seriously, still looking at those flawless thighs, now tinged pink.

"I can't leave this place looking like this. You're taking me home. Don't think I'm done with you yet." The look in her eyes, that mischievous glimmer. A girl bent on devouring you. Her knee pressed against your crotch drives you back into reality. "Did you not get the fucking memo? Hurry the fuck up."

There is no shortage of nerve in this girl, and fuck if her confidence and commanding tone isn't doing anything for the part of your brain in charge of desire. If anything, you know she's not exaggerating, she still isn't fucking done. Not by a long shot.

It'll be another long night, the same pattern of anger and lust. Spoiled fucking idol Jennie Kim, turning you into a fucking puppet. Letting you do the strangest things to her in the middle of the night. That bitch. That perfect little devil.

And you wouldn't have it any other way...

[xxchumanixx]

Thought Contagion

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a one night stand he ghosted you. When forced to talk, the lines slowly start to blur. Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, fluff in the end, mentions of a one night stand, reader has the ability to communicate via thoughts and move objects Word count: 4.397 Authors note: I just love him. Do I need to say more? It's 4 am, and I'm dead. So this might make no sense at all, but hey I somehow managed to write this delusional on tiredness.

Dr. Raynor's office

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, almost matching your heartbeat.

"Did you dream of him again?" she wanted to know, eyes closely watching you.

"No, I haven't dreamt of him in a long time now... but he contacted me." you gave back, fingers interlocked, fumbling with each other.

"Did he call you? Text?"

"No, he contacted me through my thoughts."

"That he can do?"

"When the will is there, yes."

"There has to be a deep connection between you for him to do that."

"No... not anymore."

"So there was a connection."

"Was. It doesn't exist anymore."

"What happened between you two?"

"We slept with each other. And after he left without me noticing, I never heard of him again."

She nodded to herself, carefully considering what you told her.

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"I've had feelings for him for almost ten years now."

You knew it wasn't right, not like this. When you first saw him, it was at the museum, Steve telling you everything about him. How brave he was, courageous and caring. How he looked after Steve, when no one else was left.

You developed feelings for someone who didn't even exist anymore, at least that was what everyone thought.

Who would have known, that he was still alive, breathing and killing.

"Do you know him this long?" she asked, head tilted.

"No. I met him, after Steve brought him back. I was there, when they brought him to Wakanda and I visited him during his rehabilitation. Then, when Thanos blib'd us, he was gone. And after he returned a few months ago, it just happened. I don't know if it was frustration, after Steve left us, or what else it was, but we lost control for a moment."

"Control over what? Your feelings?"

"He doesn't have any feelings for me."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Why do you think he ghosted me?" you chuckled dryly, brows furrowed as you looked at her like she was an alien.

You had to bite your lip not to snarl at her, send biting words her way. She was only trying to help you, had been for a few months now.

But sometimes, she didn't seem to understand you.

"Maybe because he was scared? Didn't know how to handle his feelings?" she suggested, cocking a brow.

"No, James Barnes doesn't have such feelings - only sadness and anger." you told her, the bitter feeling of guilt stinging on your tongue.

"Was it these feelings, that led to him sleeping with you? His anger, his sadness?"

"A moment of weakness, nothing more."

She wrote something into her notebook, before she tapped her pen on the paper. "What did he want?"

"He wanted me to help him."

You flinched, when suddenly a sharp pain tore through your head.

What the hell?

"Y/N?"

You believed you heard a voice, one that sounded painfully familiar.

"Y/N?" There it was again, and you sighed shakily, feelings starting to mix in a dangerous cocktail. "James?" you answered in a thought, eyes closing, as you tried not to betray your feelings with a quiver of your voice.

It must have taken him a lot to contact you through your thoughts.

You were a telepath, able to communicate via thoughts, as well as moving objects through the air. But it took a lot of willpower, to contact you through your thoughts, especially when it was over such a great distance.

And by someone like James Buchanan Barnes.

"Oh thank god." you heard him mumble, as your belly churned.

After you've spent the night together and he left, you hadn't heard from him. Why would he contact you like that of all ways? Why contact you at all?

"What do you want?" you returned coldly, teeth gritted, as you sat up in bed. You were just about to sleep, already tucked under your covers, when he contacted you.

The anger bubbling up in your stomach made it hard for you to concentrate, but the curiosity was the slightest bit stronger.

"I need your help."

Eyes widening, you fumed. Hands clenched into fists, the books in the bookcase started to rattle, trinkets threatening to tumble over.

Oh, the nerve he had - he had to be fucking kidding you.

"You need my help?" you seethed, not able to contain the angry chuckle that escaped your lips. "You have to be kidding me."

It was silent for a few moments and you started to think he might have cut the connection, when you heard him sigh.

"I-" he started, but was cut off by another voice. "What are you doing?" you heard the voice ask - Sam. "Are you praying or something?"

You could basically hear Bucky's eyes roll in their sockets, as he sighed angrily. "No, I'm not." he retorted, scoffing. "I'm-" he cut himself off this time, most likely rubbing the stubble on his chin. "I'm talking to Y/N."

It was silent for another moment, before you heard Sam again. "How? Where's your phone? Or are you communicating through prayers?"

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.

"Forgot that she can communicate via thought?" Bucky gave back, sounding fed up. "That's possible?" Sam sounded surprised. "Over this distance? What do you want from her anyways? Thought you guys aren't talking."

Cocking a brow you huffed, and you heard Bucky stutter incoherently, eventually finding his words. "No- I-I mean, yes. We need her help if we want to find them!"

"Find whom?" you wanted to know, scrambling for the laptop that was under your bed, flipping it open, despite your better judgement. "What happened anyways?" Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Since when were they teaming up?

"Did you hear about the group 'Flagsmashers'?" Bucky asked, focusing back on you. "Of course, do you think I live under a rock?" you scoffed in return.

He rolled his eyes, you swear he did.

"Well, they plan something big and we can't find them." he explained, ignoring Sam who was still demanding an answer. "We need satellite pictures or video or whatever. Sharon can't hack into them."

"Sharon?" you retorted, huffing. You hadn't seen her since she had to flee, now knowing why. She must have holed up wherever Sam and Bucky where. "What makes you think I have access to satellites wherever you are?"

He hesitated, as you grew impatient.

"And what exactly makes you think I'd help you?"

He must have been very desperate if he contacted you of all people.

"After all I thought we weren't talking?"

He was frustrated, you could tell. You could feel it seeping into your bones.

"They are killing dozens of innocent people!" he explained, anger and frustration filtering through his voice. "Could you please help us? I wouldn't ask if I had another option."

I wouldn't ask you of all people.

"Already on it." you mumbled, as you were already typing on your laptop, telling yourself you were doing this for the innocent people he mentioned, ignoring your aching heart.

The group he was talking about was all over the news lately, gathering more followers each day. They were a threat, and no matter how much you despised talking to Bucky, you knew you had to help them.

Going through the various pictures, you scanned them for the group. "Found 'em." you announced, zooming in on a picture.

"I'll send Sam the location."

Bucky made a noise like he wanted to protest, say something like 'Why not sent it to me?', but he must have remembered that you weren't talking.

"Thank you." you heard him mutter, before he abruptly cut the connection, leaving you wide awake.

Closing your eyes you tried to hold back the tears. It was pointless crying over him, you did for a while now.

It never changed anything for you.

But, as Bucky was forming a plan with Sam, he could hear it clear as day - the single sob that managed to spill, leaving him wondering if he really heard it, or if he just imagined it.

"Did you help him?" Dr. Raynor asked, brows furrowed. She as well had heard about the group of terrorists, and she had talked to Sam and Bucky not long ago.

"I had to." you retorted, huffing.

"Why? Because he asked you to?"

"Because it was the right thing to do."

"Because of this group they are trying to stop?"

"Yes."

She nodded to herself, biting her cheek.

"How do you feel about John Walker being the new Captain America?"

Your eyes snapped to hers, hands stopping their trembling. "Don't call him that."

"Why not? Doesn't he fit your expectations?"

You chuckled dryly, smirking at her. "My expectations?" you wanted to know, leaning forward with a cocked brow. "Steven Grant Rogers was my best friend. He was my anchor, and when he left, living a life in the past with Peggy Carter, he fulfilled his greatest wish. Do I hate him for leaving me behind? Yes, I do. But I support him and his decision nonetheless. He gave the shield to Sam, who gave it away. Who am I to have expectations, when my biggest hope of someone worthy stepping into these massive footprints has been so utterly disappointed?"

Her forehead creased in thought, tapping the pen on the notebook again. The sound was so familiar already, that you had started to ignore it a long time ago.

"John Walker is said to be a good man. Don't you think he will make a good replacement for Captain America?"

"He can be good all he wants, wear the medals he obtained with pride - but he'll never be like us. The Avengers, people that gave everything for others, never once thinking about ourselves. Did we get any medals when we stopped Thanos? When Tony undid the blib, sacrificing himself? No. My best friend - my sister - died, forcing my dad to forever feel guilty for not dying in her place. Can she be replaced? No. Just as Steve can't be replaced. But Sam was the best option to be the next Cap."

"You're dad?"

"Clint. He took me under his wing almost fifteen years ago. He's the dad I never had."

She nodded, scribbling something down again.

"Will you talk to him again?"

Your brows furrowed, remembering the conversation you had with your dad only this morning.

"James."

Sighing, you leaned back against the cushions again, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" you repeated her words, anger bubbling up yet again, as your eyes widened in disbelieve. "James Buchanan Barnes ghosted me after we had sex, only contacting me to get my help. After that, he ghosted me again. And you're asking why not?"

She heaved a sigh, glancing at her watch only to see that she had another thirty minutes with you.

It wasn't that she didn't like you, but you reminded her of Bucky in your stubborn and deflective ways.

"Maybe you should." she spoke, tilting her head. "Talk to him, demand answers as to why exactly he ghosted you."

Scoffing, you stood, feeling the sudden urge to leave, get the hell out of there.

"Sit." she demanded sharply, the tapping of her pen coming to a halt.

Groaning, you did.

"Why don't you help them in trying to stop this group of terrorists for starters?" she suggested, leaning forwards on her elbows, that were resting on her thighs. "And maybe you can talk to him afterwards."

You laughed at her suggestion, declaring her insane.

But you couldn't deny the aching in your heart at the prospect.

You yearned for his touch, his scent, his voice. The way his fingertips ghosted over your skin, lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he whispered sweet nothings into it, hips connecting with yours over and over again.

Dr. Raynor smirked, like she was able to read your thoughts. She wasn't, though she still seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

Cheeks reddening, you cleared your throat, deciding that you were in need of another topic.

"How was your weekend?"

____

You hated this.

Why exactly did she manage to convince you to follow them, again?

You were late, seeing as the whole scene was crowded, the Flagsmashers already captured, their leader dead. She was a young girl, barely old enough to drink legally.

You were standing at the rear of the ambulance, watching Sam and Bucky who were stood at the front, backs turned towards you. They didn't know you were there yet, talking to each other.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, and you were scared Bucky could hear it with his super soldier hearing.

You were contemplating if you should turn around and hurry the fuck out of there, but it was too late, when they turned instead, heading towards you.

They hadn't seen you yet, but when Sam looked up, his steps faltered, causing Bucky to look your way as well. He stopped dead in his tracks, jaw slack, before it clenched.

Sam hesitantly closed the distance, whilst Bucky was glued to the spot.

"Hey." he voiced, glancing back at the frozen super soldier. "I'll leave you to talk."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You should."

He patted you on the shoulder, before he left for someone that called out to him.

Your hands trembled, your whole body trembled, as you both stared at each other. Neither of you knew what to say, neither wanting to be the first to speak.

"Should have expected you to turn up here." he muttered, and you scoffed. "Believe me, I'm not here because I wanted to be." you retorted as equally cold, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

He cocked a brow, mimicking the movement, his arm reflecting the light. "Why are you here then?" he wanted to know, fighting the urge to lean against the ambulance.

He didn't want to come over as relaxed, because he definitely wasn't with you standing in front of him.

Not anymore.

He hadn't expected you to show up, he had hoped you wouldn't.

"I wanted to see if you need more help with the Flagsmashers." you explained, looking past him. "You already helped enough with the location." he returned, unwavering.

Nodding, you bit your lip, looking away.

He was shoving you away, again.

"Well, then I suppose I will go." you spoke, swallowing. "Should have expected not to be welcomed."

You didn't mean to say it out loud, really. It just slipped through somehow.

His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing. "Welcomed?" he asked, taking a step closer as his head tilted. "No one invited you. You didn't need to come."

Huffing, you nodded again.

"Well, and no one invited you." you retorted sharply, looking back up at him. "Yet you came as well, before you left without a word."

His jaw clenched, teeth gritted.

"But hey, lets not talk about it, its not worth mentioning anyways."

You wanted to scratch his ego, your own lying broken in a corner. It worked, as he took another step closer, head tilted. Lowering his voice, he spoke exactly what you were expecting him to.

"Didn't sound not 'worth mentioning' it, considering the way you cried my name out for everyone in the building to hear."

You shivered involuntarily, trying not to let him see, though.

He wasn't wrong, but you wouldn't have him know that.

"Really? Maybe I'm just a good actress."

He scoffed, chuckling dryly.

"Just as good as you're at sneaking out."

He fumed at your words, face hardening. His arm whirred quietly, so hard he must have been clenching his hands into fists.

You stared each other down, as your heart silently begged for you to stop. But you were caught in the moment, caught in your anger and hurt.

When neither of you said anything for a good minute, you shook your head and turned around, starting to walk away.

You should have known he wouldn't talk to you.

"Do you think it was easy?" he shouted after you, causing you to halt in your movement.

"Do you think it was easy? After everything that happened, being turned to dust, returning, only for Steve to leave me behind?"

You turned back around, scoffing. "He didn't leave only you." you reminded him, voice harsh. "He left Sam and I as well. He left us all behind, staying in the past to spend his life with Peggy - the only wish he ever had. He was selfish, yes, but he knew we'd manage."

He shook his head, biting his cheek.

"I failed him."

You couldn't help but laugh, frustration growing thicker. "Why do you think so?"

His eyes were glued to the floor, before he looked back up at you.

"I tried, but I didn't manage." he explained, taking a step closer, partly closing the distance you had created. "I spiraled downwards, losing control. I-" he cut himself off, eyes flitting to the sky above you, as he licked his lips, before he looked back at you.

"I lost the little ounce of control I had left when I let you in." he continued, shaking his head, as he bit down on his cheek, the sting momentarily distracting him from his raging heart. "When we- when we spent that night together, I panicked. I hadn't done something like that since the forties, and I didn't want to drag you down into the hole I was falling into."

You had to swallow, eyes stinging, even though you did your best to ignore it.

"And what about me?" you wanted to know, clearing your throat, as your voice quivered. "What about the hole I was falling into?"

His jaw ticked, and he swallowed.

When he didn't answer, you continued.

"You left me behind, in the moment I was the most vulnerable. I needed you, and you left - as well."

He shook his head, hand brushing through his hair. "You don't need me."

"I shouldn't need you." you corrected him, shaking your head with a frown, as you took a step closer. "When Steve first told me about you, showing me your picture at the museum I knew I was done for. Hell, when you stood in front of me, breathing and not dead, like you were believed to be, I thought I was dreaming. I envied Steve, because he made you sound like the best person on earth."

He scoffed, but didn't interrupt you further, eyes downcast.

"I wanted to get to know you, wanted to see if Steve was right." you continued, fighting a smile, losing. "He was, and when we spent more time together, I started to see what he saw. And then you turned into dust. The whole world tilted, for five years. You were gone, Sam, my dad and my whole family suddenly vanished. And when you returned I was so happy - only for you to leave me again. I know it probably didn't mean anything to you, but for me it did."

You breathed in shakily, stopping your own rambling, heart hammering in your chest, threatening to break through.

"You're wrong." he muttered, swallowing, as he locked eyes with you. "It did mean something to me - it meant the whole world to me. You didn't judge me, no matter what I did. You made me forget. You where there the whole time, accompanying me the whole way. But when Steve-" he choked on his breath, shaking his head with tears glistening in his eyes.

"I lost it. And I couldn't risk bringing you in harms way - my way. I didn't want to hurt you."

Sniffing, you bit on your cheek, almost drawing blood.

"But you did." you whispered, tears making your eyes burn, blurring your sight. "You did, when you pushed me away. You where the only constant I had left, and you pushed me away."

He nodded, sniffing as well. "I know, doll." he spoke, biting his lip. "I know."

Even though you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, it didn't feel as relieving as it should have. A tear fell, but you didn't brush it away.

You fell silent, lost in thought.

Somehow, you just confessed your feelings to him, stripped them bare for him to see. Leaving you even more vulnerable.

Your fingers tapped on your thigh in a nervous habit, wishing you could read Bucky's mind. Even though you were able to communicate via thought, you weren't actually able to read other peoples thoughts.

"Will you forgive me?" he suddenly rasped out, eyes staying a second longer on the ground, before they found yours, hope glistening in them. He sounded so broken, so vulnerable, like you never heard him before.

"Please, Y/N."

You swallowed at the nerves bubbling up, slowly starting to nod. "Yes, Bucky." you breathed out, sniffing. "Yes, I forgive you."

How were you supposed to stay angry at him, after what he just told you? After everything that had happened?

He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding to himself, as his eyes closed for a moment.

A tear slipped past his eyelashes, and he bit his lip. You had only seen him cry once, causing you to inhale shakily at the memory.

He wiped at the salty liquid, before his eyes opened again, his feet taking him closer to you, until he was as close as he was the last time you had seen him in person.

You could smell his familiar cologne, feel the heat his body radiated.

His flesh fingers hesitantly moved, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face, softly cupping your cheek. The action made you shiver, goosebumps covering your arms, as you leaned into his warm touch the slightest bit, eyes locked onto his blue ones.

"I'm so sorry, doll." he rasped out, eyes fighting to stay on yours. "I did what I thought was best for you, but I know now, that I was wrong. I'm having nightmares again, but I'm working on it. I'm working on everything, trying to get a bit of the old me back to life - the one Steve had told you all these stories about."

You knew about his nightmares, even though they were different now, thanks to the Dora Milaje who had managed to free him of the Winter Soldier state.

He didn't turn into him anymore, not for the briefest of moments. Something he would forever be grateful for.

"I'm an idiot." he mumbled, eyes leaving yours, his hand leaving your face, falling back at his side with his head downcast. "I never should have left - never should have let this happen. I should have listened to Dr. Raynor."

You cocked a brow at his words, head tilting to somehow meet his gaze. "What do you mean?"

He sighed heavily, swallowing, as his nerves got the best of him. "I mean that I should have talked to you, instead of just leaving you behind." he explained, tongue brushing over his lip, hesitating. "Should have told you how I feel."

You inhaled sharply, hands starting their nervous trembling at your sides again.

"What do you feel?" you managed to breathe out, and his eyes met yours again, the intensity of his gaze stealing your breath.

His lips parted, only for his tongue to wet them again. He searched for the right words, soon giving up and opting for the simpler option instead.

"I love you, Y/N."

Your breathing hitched, heart stumbling, before it doubled its speed.

"You're pure, soft and so lovingly." he continued, hands cupping your face. There the words were. "You never once judged me, not even in my darkest hours. You're the thing that kept me going, made me push through to get rid of the Winter Soldier. I wanted to be better - for you. But I fucked up, so badly. I fell into an old habit, pushing you away so you wouldn't get hurt, but instead I did exactly that: hurting you. And I'm a fucking coward for pushing you away, and not pulling you closer instead, now that I'm actually able to."

Words had left you, only tears managed to spill. He brushed them away with his thumbs, one cold and one warm, yet they were both so soft.

His eyes closed, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as well, breathing him in.

"Working with Sam on this distracted me enough to forget it for a moment." he spoke quietly, leaving you to wonder how exactly that had happened. "But I was selfish when I contacted you, asking for help. I wanted to hear your voice, even if you would have just shouted at me, telling me to never talk to you again."

You bit your lip, more tears falling.

"I would have never." you told him, eyes squinting, even though they were already closed. "I love you too much."

His body moved abruptly, a sob breaking through his lips. It was one of relief and deep shame.

He nodded, his forehead leaving yours to press kisses to your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, until he finally met your lips with his own.

You tasted the salty remnants of your combined tears on your lips, but neither of you cared. Hands wrapping around his neck, brushing through his hair, you tugged him closer.

Something wet hit your cheek, but you couldn't tell if it were your tears, or his.

His hands on your cheeks tilted your head back, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushed yours, an action so soft it left you yearning for more.

When his lips left yours, you sighed, eyes slowly opening to meet his blue ones. His lips were kiss swollen, but so were yours.

"He took the shield." Bucky breathed out with shining eyes, fingers dancing through your hair. Nodding, you couldn't help but smile. "I know. Finally."

He chuckled quietly, before his lips connected with yours again.

"Now that this mission is complete, I'm all yours." he promised, forehead meeting yours again. "I won't ever do the mistake of pushing you away again, I promise."

You smiled, feeling the tears return, happy ones this time.

"I'm yours." he repeated, lips meeting your cheek. "I'm yours."

"I know." you returned, eyes fluttering closed.

"And I'm yours."

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

← Smutlet Masterlist

18+ Edging

An hour! He had been at it for an hour. It felt like an eternity. But Bucky was a patient man. He knew the value of fortitude. The value of tenacity. So much so that your pleas might as well have fallen on deaf ears. His touch made you melt, regardless of the situation, but when he was trying, you were his to mold. You were putty in his hands. He knew your body like his own, the things you liked, the things you loved, the things that drove you crazy. His own body responded to yours. But when this mood came over him, nothing else could distract him from his plans.

“Keep your eyes on me, Doll. You’re doing so well.”

You were bare before him, just how he liked you. Every part of you accessible to his eager needs. He found himself between your legs, grinding against your core. It didn’t take long for you to turn into a squirming mess as he rutted against you. You were so close when he bent forwards to capture your nipple between his lush pink lips, making your hips stutter, losing your rhythm and breaking the tension in your tightly wound coil.

“I thought I taught you better than this, Doll? Such a needy little princess.”

He was possessive. No one got to touch you but him. You weren’t even allowed to please yourself when he got like this. You belonged to him and him alone. Bucky was a tactile person. He liked to feel. You in particular. With his fingers, with his tongue, with his cock. He was addicted. To the softness of your skin, the plumpness of your lips, to the firmness of your ass and breasts. You offered him a level of trust like no one had before. And he liked the control. He loved the way you responded to his touch. The sounds you made. The way you looked when he was inside you.

“Don’t hold back, Doll. Show me how much you need me.”

Not that he always showed the same restraint when it came to his own needs. His pants were around his ankles without hesitation. Stroking his swollen member as he stood between your spread legs. He gazed longingly at your glistening cunt. Teasing himself with the arousal that coated your folds. Mixing his juices with yours. Maybe he would allow you one taste, just to see how well your essences complimented each other. He would have you hooked on the cocktail of your desires. Your hips bucked longingly as he pushed into you.

“Can’t get enough, can you, Doll? Can’t get enough of my thick cock deep inside you?”

The devilish grin that painted his face told you he meant to only tease you. Give you but a taste of his talents. The ridges of his cock stroked your sheath, stretching your walls, but leaving you just short of a release. Of course, this didn’t stop him. He tilted himself away from your most sensitive spot, leaving you begging him mercilessly. He spilled his scorching white seed into you. His throbbing shaft pulsed inside, filling you to the brim. You were so close when he pulled out of you. Bucky gathered his cum leaking from your cunt and pushed it back into you. Your moans imploring your release.

“Louder, baby. Let me hear you. Does that feel good?”

Bucky chuckled at your frustration. The denial, the control. He got off on it. He kneeled down between your legs, his face inches away from where you wanted it most. He blew softly against your cum-filled pussy. Making your clit tingle with anticipation. He spread your folds, amused by the eager thrusts of your hips, meeting nothing but air. He taunted you, dangling your release in front of you like a proverbial carrot.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?”

He didn't give you a chance to answer as he licked a stripe up from your hole, tasting you. Reveling in the whimpers falling off your lips.

“You taste so good. I will never get enough of you.”

He hummed his approval, licking his lips. He tried again, tongue making contact with your clit. Again and again. Faster and faster. Until you were pleading with him.

“Just hold on for me, Doll. Just a little longer.”

His voice was soft but filled with authority. You would do as you were told. Bucky's lips circled your clit, sucking roughly. Making you scream from the sensitivity and pleasure. You thrust into his mouth, grinding at the same pace as he put more pressure on your swollen nub.

“Count to ten for me, Doll. Nice and slow. Then you get to cum. Understand?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, nodding, willing your mind to focus.

“But remember, Doll, any signs of you trying to cum before that, and you're going to be sorry.”

You took a deep breath and spoke. One. Your hands made fists into the bedsheets in your effort to stay sane. Two. His nose brushed your clit as his tongue pushed into your cunt. Three. Bucky hummed, the vibrations his voice sent into you almost had you losing control. Barely holding on to your sense of control, you took another step. Four. He took his vibranium hand off your thigh and used it to spread your folds. Five. 

“That's my good girl, just a little more. Just hang in there and I'm going to make you feel so good.”

Six. You muffled a sob against your fist. Seven. He was licking every inch of you. Eight. Your back arched as he pushed his fingers inside you. Nine. They grazed your sweet spot, testing the boundaries of your climax. Ten!

“Cum for me, Doll!”

You shook from the pleasure, eyes rolling back. There were fireworks. Bucky held you, supported you, helped ride out your orgasm. You lay limp in his arms, spent from the effort, basking in the exhilaration. Bucky smiled down at you.

“Good girl.”