#at the same time. there may also always be a demand. so at least making sure its done kindly is better than nothing?

[worldofgoo]

ive been following the is the fox video cute blog for a while now and while i understand where theyre coming from its still a bit wild to me how pro-farm they are. like i watch videos they share sometimes and stuff bc the ethics of animal husbandry interests me a lot and like i guess the foxes seem relaxed enough? but it must be insanely boring/understimulating even if theyre not stressed to the point of illness. and like. anyone would agree that putting a cat or a dog in a cage their whole life is kinda unfair. dunno

[yanaromanov]

fuck me, i’m famous

｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

paring: rockstar!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: when your boyfriend drags you along to a rock concert of a band you barely know, and then ceremoniously dumps you to go out with his friends after, it feels like your night can’t get any worse. thankfully, the guitarist of the band seems to take a particular interest in you and offers you an alternative offer on how to spend your night that seems just too good to refuse.

warning(s): cheating (r has a bf), but he’s a shitty bf, oc male character, band jargon that may or may not be correct, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of flirting, slight mention of crystals, swearing, many pet names, first time with a woman, smut, fingering, thigh riding, masturbation, scissoring, multiple orgasms, hickeys, natasha talking you through things, lots of praise, slight degradation (?), minors dni.

authors note: okay i feel like this is kinda bad and messy but i also spent too much time on it not to post. i’m still getting used to writing smut and haven’t wrote anything like this before so i hope it’s okay 😭😭 the end is also rushed so plz just ignore that :))

wc: 12.2K words

You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.

There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.

You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.

It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.

The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.

And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.

Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.

You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?

You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.

When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.

Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.

The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.

The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.

When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.

You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.

You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.

"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."

The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.

The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.

"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.

But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."

The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"

She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.

When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"

You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."

A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.

Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.

"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"

Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.

Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.

"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"

"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."

The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"

"You don't have to come."

He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"

Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.

"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.

"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."

For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.

Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.

For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.

The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"

"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."

"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."

"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"

"Not while I'm on shift."

He shrugs again. You scoff.

"Please. I really need to get home."

"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.

You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?

"Hey gorgeous."

The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."

You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.

Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"

You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."

Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."

Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."

And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-" "Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."

You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink." Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"

"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.

You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"

"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"

You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."

"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"

You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."

"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."

You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.

One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.

"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"

"Natasha. I know."

She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."

Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."

"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."

"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"

"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"

You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"

"Well maybe if I get lucky."

You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."

And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."

"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."

She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.

You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"

The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."

You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"

"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"

"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."

Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.

That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.

"What's wrong?"

You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."

Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"

Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."

It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.

You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."

You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."

That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."

The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.

And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."

Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.

"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.

"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.

"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."

Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.

It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.

There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.

The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.

"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.

You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.

Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."

"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.

"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"

You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"

"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"

"It's a long story."

You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."

And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.

"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.

For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"

You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.

Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"

You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."

The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"

"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."

"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"

You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."

"No?"

You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."

The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."

The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.

And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.

Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.

When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.

Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.

But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.

"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.

When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.

"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."

Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.

"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.

The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.

As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.

It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.

It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.

Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.

Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."

You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."

You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."

Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.

"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."

You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.

Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."

She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.

She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.

The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.

"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.

Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.

"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"

"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.

"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."

Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.

"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.

But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."

The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.

"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."

You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.

You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"

You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.

Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.

The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.

You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.

"You can," Natasha nods.

"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.

"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.

"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."

One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.

The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."

You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.

A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"

"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.

Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.

When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"

You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"

The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."

You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.

Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.

Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.

You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.

Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.

You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.

"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."

You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"

You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"

The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"

You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."

The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Tasha."

Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.

Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.

"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.

Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."

Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.

Natasha smiles at your clear agreeance, almost smug in the way she licks her lips. She props herself up on to one arm, leaning over you with those dark emerald eyes. Her fingers come to find the crystal hanging around your neck, rolling the stone between her fingertips as she smiles deeply. Then, she turns back to you, looking as sly as she first had back in that bathroom stall. "Now," she drawls. "About that groupie thing..."

[yunhoszn]

steamed milk

pairing choi san x f!reader word count 2.5k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, not proofread, all lowercase bc i wrote this at 2 am… a week ago <3, barista!reader, barista!san, clumsy reader, mentions of burn scars?, mutual pining, little bit of power imbalance but it doesn’t play into the plot, escalates pretty fast, public sex, unprotected sex, cute fluffy moment at the end, may we get f’s in the chat for kim hongjoong’s desk chair

summary a closing shift with san is… interesting… to say the least.

more alright alright alright, i know i have a billion wips and a billion reqs to work on,,, but @bro-atz needed something to read on a flight and i needed an excuse to write with no plot in mind, solely based on vibes and this is what came out of it… i ALSO KNOW i’ve been withholding for a week but that’s bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted to keep this locked in the dungeon for a rainy day or not, until i remembered i should post something in honor of chellateez 🥳

@atzhouse @san-network

“did you burn yourself on the steam wand again, y/n?”

you bite your lip and turn away from hongjoong bashfully. so what if you’re a little clumsy, it’s not like you completely sucked at your job. maybe there were a few milk spills here and there. at least you knew what you were doing most of the time. 

“um, what would you do if i said no?” you scratch the back of your neck with the hand that wasn’t burned. hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his rolling chair. as the manager of a coffee shop, he did not get paid enough to babysit and coddle his employees like he usually did. 

between you almost always making a mess and then yunho and mingi goofing around whenever they were on shift together, he felt like he was starting to grow grey hairs. he shakes his head with a tsk, pulling out the first aid kit from one of the drawers in his desk. “let’s put some burn cream and a bandaid on it so you can hop back out. the dessert rush is about to begin.”

you nod and rock on the balls of your feet as you wait patiently. your manager dresses your burn and sends you on your way. the dessert rush, aside from the morning rush, was arguably the worst part of the day. shifts at the coffee shop were divided into thirds— open to mid, mid to evening, evening to close. while opens were the most busy, you at least got out early and could enjoy the rest of your day. mids were the slowest, but they took place midday so you couldn’t do much after you clocked off. 

closes were the worst, because they were so unpredictable. you weren’t ever sure if it was going to be busy, apart from the usual dessert rush, and that uncertainty bothered you. the beginning of your closing shift was staffed pretty well. there was yeosang, who was probably the best barista out of the lot of you, and seonghwa, a seasoned veteran in this game. he was your assistant manager. 

however, yeosang and seonghwa were off at 6 PM and the shop closed at 9 PM, leaving you and your lead for the night to close all by yourselves. and your lead? choi san. 

closing with san wouldn’t be such a problem if it weren’t for your massive crush on him. out of the other leads, san was the kindest. he didn’t lose his cool if your clumsy nature got the best of you during a hectic shift. in fact, he took his time to ensure everything was okay. he didn’t care if there were angry customers demanding that their drinks be made. his baristas were his number one priority. 

and well, with his appearance today, it would be more difficult than usual. donned in a white button up and some black slacks, his brown apron over, you think you’re going to faint. on a regular basis, san wore simple things like the occasional sweater or t-shirts and jeans, but this new look was making you all sorts of dizzy. you felt inferior beside him. (though technically, you were.)

with hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang leaving all at the same time, you were in a crisis. how were you supposed to survive this shift? it’s like the universe meticulously crafted this moment so it could laugh at you. and it all started with you burning yourself on that goddamn steam wand, while you were on bar with san of all people. 

“are you sure you don’t want me to send you home?” san asks lowly, making sure only you heard him. the two of you were finishing an order when he asked the question. 

“i couldn’t let you close by yourself.” you pout. as hard as it’s going to be working with him alone for three hours, you’d feel awful leaving him to fend for himself. 

“i can ask yeo or hwa to stay,” he shrugs, putting a lid on the iced vanilla latte in front of you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

“i’ll be fine, san,” you reassure. “besides, seonghwa would probably kill me if i was the reason he had to stay later than he had to.”

san laughs a little, eyes scrunching up in the cute way they do when he smiles. your heart rate spikes and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. he nods as he turns to hand out the order. 

“if you insist.”

maybe you should’ve taken him up on that offer to go home. 

you’re too distracted by the way his rolled up sleeves strain against his muscular arms, staring a little too much. hongjoong just so happens to walk out of the back at that exact moment. he thinks your (very obvious) crush on san is funny, but not when the line is wrapped and you’re about to be down two men. 

“y/n, there’s five drinks waiting to be made,” he calls out, tapping on seonghwa and yeosang’s shoulders to let them know they can go. “what’s more important that has you standing there doing nothing?”

“sorry…” you apologize sheepishly, avoiding his gaze as you start on the next order; a dry cappuccino with cinnamon. great. another drink that required you using that godforsaken steam wand. a truly evil contraption. 

“i can be milk if you’d like?” san suggests suddenly, noticing your hesitation to steam the 2%. 

“if it’s not too much of an ask,” you frown. “i just don’t want to hold us back in the middle of a rush.”

“you don’t need to explain yourself to me, y/n,” he quickly swaps places with you. “i think you’re pretty damn good with a portafilter anyway.”

it’s a stupid compliment. only another barista would even know what that meant, but you take it to heart. your body flushes with warmth as you tamp the espresso grounds and pull a shot viable enough to use for the cappuccino. you’re a little shaky as you pour it into the paper cup and wait for san to pour the milk. 

this was the closest you’d get to flirting with san, and it was him telling you that you were actually good at your job. what a sad life you lived. 

thankfully, you manage to bulldoze through the line with just the two of you. in times like these, your solution is to go nonverbal and lock in. if you talk while you’re making drinks, you get distracted too easily and you find it’s harder to multitask. after the rush, things are slow for the most part and then it’s just you, san, and the sound of cafe music playing quietly over the speakers at 9 PM. 

“y/n, can i ask you a question?” san inquires, counting the till as you wipe down the espresso machine and the bar around it. 

“what’s up?” you hum, refolding your rag. he shuts the register and walks over to you, leaning on the bar adjacent to the one you were at. 

“i’m curious, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but i’ve heard that you like me. is that true?” it comes out so politely, you’re not even sure you heard him correctly. you blink as the words process in your brain. this was the end. now you really wished you went home early. 

“well— um— i don’t know how to answer that…” you fiddle with your fingers, looking everywhere but at san. 

“all i want is a yes or no, because truth is,” he walks closer and closer until he’s directly in front of you. “i have a little crush on you myself.”

“you what?!” you don’t mean to sound so shocked, so appalled even, because he takes a step back, eyes widened by your outburst. you’re just so confused. choi san liked you? like, liked you?

“i’ll take that as a—“

“no!” you stand upright, grabbing his wrist. when you realize what you’ve done, you immediately let go. “i mean, no, as in yes. i do like you, san. i was just… embarrassed… that you found out from elsewhere instead of me. and i’m a little in disbelief that you feel the same.”

“why’s that?” his head tilts to the side a bit. “what’s not to like about you?”

“for starters, i’m the biggest klutz on the planet.” you huff, but that makes his smile grow wider. 

“i think that’s your charming point,” he admits, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. “while i don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, like when you burned yourself earlier, i do think it’s kinda cute when you accidentally knock over a drink.”

“are you okay in the head? were you dropped on it as a baby?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. he laughs, this time a full on laugh that has him bringing a fist up to his mouth. you think you just shed a tear. and not from your eyes. 

“i don’t believe so. i guess i’m just attracted to people who aren’t afraid of being themselves,” he shrugs, reaching out to take your hand into his. “and you check all the boxes.”

remember the whole fainting thing? that’s about to come true. you manifested it. 

san brings your knuckles up to his lips, first kissing over the bandaid where your burn was and then all over the back of your hand. you stand there like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing but no words escaping you. was the universe… rewarding you somehow?

“how often does joong check the cameras?” you gasp when his kisses have moved from your hand to your neck. he doesn’t break contact, speaking into your skin as he unties your apron. 

“almost never, but you have a point.”

this is how you end up on san’s lap in hongjoong’s office chair, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, lips locked like no tomorrow. he was a fantastic kisser, which just further proved your theory that he was the perfect human being. along with the subtle flirting, and the obvious knack for respecting boundaries, it’s almost like the universe had hand crafted choi san to be the ideal man. and they say chivalry is dead. pft, san’s existence dispels that notion undoubtedly. 

“he won’t know, right?” you pant, arching into him when he sucks at a particular part on the base of your throat. he hums. 

“you’re worrying too much,” san’s fingers slip under your top, digging into your waist. “i promise, he won’t find out. but we’ve gotta be quick since he’ll know what time we left.”

“m’kay,” you sigh, grinding down on his lap to help speed things along. the undressing process is a blur. you wish you could spend more time admiring his bare chest and arms, especially because you’d been fantasizing about this moment for almost an entire year now. 

“god, you’re so gorgeous, y/n,” he murmurs, reconnecting your lips sweetly. his hands massage the sides of your thighs as you hover over him, preparing to sink down on his cock. “i finally have you all to myself.”

you whine when you do, his words encouraging your arousal. the intrusion has you moaning softly, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer pleasure streaming through your veins. your nails scrape his shoulders and back, toes curling. the tip of his dick grazes that sensitive spot deep in your cunt with ease, as if he was made to be inside of you. 

“feels— fuck— feels so good, san,” you whimper, head falling to the crook of his neck. san chuckles, albeit a little strained. his hands remain in your hips, aiding your movement so you don’t get too tired. 

“is that right, sweetheart?” he says into your ear, nipping the lobe gently. “you’re taking me so well.” 

his praise shoots straight to your core, punching another moan out of you. you really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s inching you towards the edge of that familiar tide so fast. it’s san, and like you’ve stated before, he’s damn near perfect. but holy shit, the way he’s fucking you has you thinking that there is such a thing as heaven. 

you have to bite down on his collarbone to stop yourself from screaming like a fucking pornstar, leaving a myriad of marks on his skin to restrain the ferality threatening to jump out of you. every drag of his cock on your velvety walls drives you just a little more insane each time. 

he’s moving so slow, but so deep all at once, and it’s just the right combination to decorate the backs of your eyelids in stars and colored spots. his ring and middle fingers meet your swollen clit, circling with practiced pressure. the office chair squeaks awfully with each of your bounces on his lap, but you’re too close to pay it any mind. instead, you drown it out with your own noises— warnings of your impending orgasm. 

“gonna cum— my god, san, i’m—!” you don’t even finish your sentence, the tide finally reaching the shore. your orgasm washes over you hard and unlike any other you’ve ever experienced before. you aren’t sure if he’s just that good, or if it’s because it’s san. (most likely a combination of both.) 

san coos, guiding you through the peak of your climax. once you’ve calmed considerably, you slide him out of you and stroke his cock until he’s painting the inside of your thighs with milky white and a groan. his face screws up in pleasure, eyes fluttered shut and brows knit together. his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks and you think you’ve just fallen in love, for real. 

his chest rises and falls as he attempts to catch his breath. you can’t help placing a hand over the left side to feel the rapidity of his heartbeat, smiling to yourself. he mirrors your expression after a moment, leaning up to press a sensual kiss to your lips. 

“as fun as this was, and as much as i like the view right now, it’d be better if i could actually take you out after this… and if i could fuck you somewhere nicer than on our manager’s desk chair.” san bites at the inside of his lip, glancing down at the rolling chair beneath you. 

“i agree,” you giggle, brushing his hair from his face. “hongjoong’s office isn’t the ideal location for a first date or first time sleeping together. but at least we’ll have a fun story to tell our kids.”

san bursts into laughter at that. “our kids, huh? you’ve thought that far ahead?”

“i’ve had a crush on you since i got hired, choi san, what do you think?” you raise an eyebrow, booping his nose with your index finger. he scrunches it up with a grin. 

“i think that i’ve had a crush on you just as long. and if we’re having kids, it’s best to omit some details when we retell this story.” 

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[bambikisss]

When at Coachella :: Song Mingi

Lead Guitarist! Mingi x Singer! Reader (ft Manager!Yeosang)

🎶: Rude boy - Rihanna, Slow Down - Chase Atlantic, Mamacita - Chase Atlantic

📙: You and your band are on a sold out tour when you decide to make a pit stop at Coachella to perform, the performance being as hot as possible, leading to a night between you and your guitarist boyfriend, Song Mingi.

⚠: Unprotected sex (always wrap it up), accepting alcohol from a fan, public sex, Voyeurism (ft Yeosang), 69, talk about becoming an adult entertainer

Bambi's notes: I'm back! I recently watched Coachella and loved how Mingi looked and acted, so I used it as inspiration. I also realized that I haven't done anything with our Yeosang yet, so I thought this is how I introduce him to my writings lol. There also may be a part two for this 👀

REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED

"Showtime in 10 minutes, everyone make sure you are ready!"

You could hear the roar of the crowd from your dressing room backstage, smirking as you heard the chants for you as you put on your lip gloss in the mirror.

Due to popular demand, you were to headline Coachella for the first time, being the reason for the surge in ticket sales. You were a very popular singer, you and your band are currently on a sold-out tour, making a pit stop at the festival for the night.

"You always look so good when you're like that."

Your smirk only grew as the door closed behind your guitarist, the click from locking the door echoing in the room as he approached you. You didn't move, allowing his hands to rest on your hips before slowly moving down to your skirt, his thumbs grazing the bottom of your ass. You were bent over the vanity, your hands moving to support you against the mirror as the man behind you licked his lips, pressing his body against yours as he played with the fabric of your skirt. You knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to do a lot more than touch it, his eyes moving up your back slowly to meet your eyes in the mirror with a smirk of his own.

"Don't you know that you're not allowed in here, Mingi? Yeosang is going to get upset that you're in here after he banned you from being alone with me before performances."

"Who gives a fuck what stick up his ass Yeosang has to say about me seeing my sexy girlfriend?" Mingi scoffed, his hands slowly pushing up your skirt more to see the globe of your ass, chuckling when you began to move your hips side to side, giving your ass some movement against him. "Hey, be nice, he's our manager. He's just trying to look out for us and make sure that I get on stage on time, unlike the last time you came back here before a show."

At your words, a proud smile moves over Mingi's lip, remembering how he had you pinned against the wall at one of your concerts, making you late to get on stage after he drilled into you. He wouldn't stop until you came hard around him at least 3 times. He wouldn't take any excuse, even when Yeosang came banging on the door, following after you with a shit-eating grin on his face when you both emerged from the room.

"You excited for Chella, babygirl? The crowd is chanting your name." Mingi hummed, fixing his platinum hair in the mirror above you before pulling back to let you stand up straight, his hand resting on the small of your back as you both made your way to the stage. You nodded, picking up your microphone and in ears while Mingi did the same. Your set was around 22 songs, including 2 costume changes and even a special guest. Your show was one everyone was looking forward to and you wanted to make sure that you met their expectations.

You and the rest of your band listened to Yeosang give a rundown of the stage as you all stood up on the lift, Mingi's dark blue guitar resting against his feet as he bit his guitar pic, something he did before every performance. You nodded, smiling as the lift began to move up, the cheers growing louder and louder until you were on the stage, the huge crowd of people screaming their hearts out at your appearance.

"Coachella, make some noise for me!" The crowd was like putty in your hands, screaming even louder before the first song began. The crowd cheered for each band member as you introduced them.

You made a show of walking over to Mingi, the crowd getting even louder when you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. "This is my right-hand man and lead guitarist, Song Mingi" Mingi accompanied your introduction with a guitar rift, your fans barking for him. It was a staple whenever he performed to bark for him, the barking growing louder as many of the Coachella crowd picked up on the trend, barking for him as well.

Your set was full of cheers, the band playing perfectly as usual, interacting with the fans while you sang. You were even able to get close enough to the fans to have them touch you, which Mingi smirked at. While you were on your knees in front of your fans singing, Mingi came over to play his guitar closer, the crowd exploding as he began to drop to his knees, performing the guitar rift right over you as you continued to sing. The moment would go viral on social media, you already knew it, but you were much more concerned with Mingi's dark eyes that met yours while he played before he shot you a secret wink, raising himself back up from being over you before he walked to play at the other side of the stage.

You were having fun singing, flirting more with Mingi as the songs went on, your touches getting hotter for opening his jacket during his solo to show off his fresh 'FIX ON' tattoo that moved over his chest and his abs, singing right behind him while he played, his head moving back to rest on your shoulder while he played. You could tell by the way he stared at you that he would've taken you right there on that stage if he could, his lust for you growing more and more as the songs went on.

Mingi was full of his own tricks, though, grabbing a shot of whiskey from a fan for both of you, holding one for himself before he handed it to you, you both taking the shot before he poured the rest on his head, shaking his head as he played, your eyes falling on the droplets of whiskey that moved down his chest and abs. Mingi then took the opportunity to press his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to keep eye contact with you. He wanted you to focus on him as he played, your vocals never wavering as you and he held eye contact, singing flirtatious lyrics as if you both were alone.

"Thank you Coachella!" You waved goodbye as your set finally ended, walking back to the lift with your band members, the crowd still cheering for you as the lift slowly fell as you all waved, Mingi's free hand landing on your lower back as you all slowly disappeared.

"Good job everyone, you all are trending on every social media site!" Yeosang complimented you all as you all walked from the lift, accepting the water bottles he handed out. You had barely taken a few sips of your water when Mingi began to drag you away from everyone else. Coachella's backstage area was all outside, the trailers being only for the artists to get ready. However, Mingi didn't have the patience to go all the way to the trailer, bringing you to an area that was empty near the stage, hidden behind a pillar. You didn't have to question him at all, his hands landing on your hips as your lips met his in a heated kiss, Mingi's grip on you tightening as he pressed his body against yours.

You ran your hands through his hair as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before he pressed your back against the pillar again, letting you feel just how much he wanted you. At your moan when he rolled his hips into you, he shushed you quickly, his teeth dragging along your bottom lip before he placed a finger against his lips, whispering "shh, baby. keep quiet for me, yeah? Don't want anyone to come over here for us."

"I thought you had always wanted an audience though?" You whispered back against his lips, your nails slowly dragging down his chest as he moaned softly. It was true: Mingi had a thing for pleasuring you with an audience, eating you out underneath tables when you are going live with fans, doing the same thing when you're recording with the producer in the room, Mingi wanted everyone to know just how good he could make you feel.

Mingi smirked, his hands grabbing at your breasts over your top as he responded "Can you handle that, though? Can you handle someone watching us with their hands down their pants as I fuck your pretty pussy? You won't get all embarrassed and try and look away as per usual?''

You nodded, feeling like you were in a haze as Mingi returned his lips to yours, his tongue teasingly moving over yours before he pulled back, his chest moving as he began to roll his hips against you. You were deep down happy that there was no one around the area, everyone backstage either leaving, trying to beat the traffic, or helping to pick up the trash around the festival site.

"Are you two done?" Your kiss with Mingi broke with Mingi's annoyed groan at Yeosang's words, rolling his eyes as he turned to face him. His eyes drilled into the manager before an idea came into his head. "Baby, Yeosang had to sign an NDA before he began working with us, right?"

"Yeah, he signed a bunch of them, why?" You remained in Mingi's arms as he turned to face Yeosang, a devious smirk moving over his lips before he said "No, actually, me and Y/N here aren't done. If you want to talk to her so much, you're going to have to talk to her while I eat her out."

Mingi's words made Yeosang blush, stuttering out a small "what?"

"You heard me: Either you wait to talk to her," Mingi paused, unwrapping your legs from around his waist before he placed you back down on the ground, Mingi's lips meeting yours before he slowly kissed down your body, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Or, you can stand here and talk to her while I eat out her wet pussy, your choice."

Yeosang couldn't help but stutter, trying to figure out if Mingi was serious, but when Mingi began to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, he could tell that he was in fact serious. At Yeosang not moving, Mingi smirked before looking up at you, asking "You're okay with our manager Yeosang watching us, right? I mean, whatever he has to say must be so important that it can't wait for us to finish." You bit your lip as you nodded, a small moan leaving your lips as Mingi bit down on your thigh, saying "No baby, out loud. Look at Yeosang and say it's okay if he watches."

"It's okay if you watch" You whimpered to Yeosang as Mingi kissed over his bite, placing your leg up onto his shoulder before he kissed up your thigh, his focus now only on your pussy as Yeosang cleared his throat. He felt challenged as if Mingi was challenging him to see if he wouldn't be able to handle the sight, but he could. Heck, he had walked past you both constantly fucking all the time, this was nothing different other than that he could see it.

"So, I'm going to go over the analytics of tonight's performance with you along with how payment is going to work." You nodded as Mingi pushed your panties to the side, cursing softly at how wet you seemed to be before he dipped his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tried to keep your facial emotions in check while Mingi ate you out, trying your hardest to pay attention to Yeosang's words and analytics from the show on social media. Mingi looked up at you as you kept talking to Yeosang, sucking hard on your clit to make you moan out loud in the middle of your sentence, your hand moving into his hair to press him against your pussy, making him moan into you. You wanted to keep him busy from trying to play with you, your cheeks already on fire from how Yeosang was watching you both.

Mingi smirked as your leg began to tense on his shoulder, letting him know that you were just about to cum. He slowly kissed up your body, his ringed fingers playing with your pussy lips as he whispered into your ear "you're focusing so hard baby, let me help you relax a bit"

You bit your lip harder as Mingi easily slipped 3 fingers into you, your hands rushing out to grip his forearm as Yeosang continued to talk to you, his eyes glancing down at your hands as they gripped Mingi's moving forearm as he fucked up into you with his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, Mingi's lips all over your neck as he shamelessly whispered into your ear all about the things he wanted to do to you. Yeosang felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight and the sound, his eyes slowly moving back up your body as you tried to hold back all your sounds. He hummed before holding up his tablet, needing your signature for something.

Your hands shook as you accepted the tablet from him, your orgasm right about to wash over you as you signed your name on the tablet. Mingi smirked as you came all over his hands, his gaze now moving to Yeosang as he slowly pulled his hands from you. You cleared your throat as you handed back the tablet, your signature drawn messily onto the page. Mingi shamelessly sucked on his fingers as Yeosang looked down at the tablet, holding back his smirk when he noticed that you had written your signature while you were cumming.

You rested against Mingi as he began walking to the limo, chuckling deeply before he paused, turning around to face Yeosang. "If you'll excuse me and Y/N, we're going back to the hotel. I'm sure everything else you need to say can wait?"

"Of course" Yeosang hummed, his eyes moving over both you and Mingi before he walked past you, his arm grazing yours as he made his way to his ride back to the hotel without even glancing back. "I think he liked it," Mingi chuckled, picking you up before carrying you to the limo, having you sit on his lap before your lips met in a heated kiss. You and Mingi kissed as the limo driver turned up the music, giving both you and Mingi as much privacy as he could as he was used to you both doing this. Mingi's hands moved down to your hips, his hands moving underneath the skirt to knead your ass as you deepened the kiss, your hips moving against Mingi's, his hard cock pressing against his belt hard.

Mingi tossed his head back as you kissed down his neck, your hands moving over his chest as Mingi helped you grind down against him, his eyes closing as you bit down on him. "That's my baby, mark me up. I wanna post a selfie tomorrow showing all your marks off on me." Mingi loved seeing the comments on the post debating whether or not it was real or not, if they came from a woman or from somewhere else- it always got him off.

"Should start recording us," he moaned out as you removed his belt, his hand landing harshly on your ass before he licked his lips. "Have you be my own private little porn star."

You moaned at his words, licking up his neck as Mingi continued to moan out his desires, not caring about the poor driver in the front as he dragged his hands up your ass slowly, his nails digging into you before you shut him up with a kiss, your lips and tongue meeting in a messy kiss that was fit for a porn star.

When the limo finally pulled into the hotel, Mingi and you rushed to exit the car before you both rushed into the hotel through the back that was for celebrities, bypassing the many cameras. Mingi and you both laughed as he pressed you against the wall of the staircase, your lips meeting in a deep kiss as you both stumbled up the stairs to your floor. Mingi then pressed you against your hotel room door, panting against your neck as his hands already began to unzip your skirt, his voice against your ear neck as he panted "You better hurry up before I shove down your skirt and take you in this hallway, maybe we can give the security team a show next."

You bit your lip as you pressed your keycard against the door, knowing that the security of the hotel didn't sign an NDA, unlike Yeosang. You pushed open the door, Mingi's body immediately following yours as you both entered the room, his heavy boots kicked the door closed before his lips met yours again in a messy kiss.

Clothing began to be thrown all around the bedroom as you both made your way to the nearest surface, which so happened to be the floor. Mingi chuckled softly as you both landed on the floor, Mingi's back pressing against the hotel's expensive carpet as he helped you move on top of him, moving you so you faced his cock while he could have you sit on his face. "Put that pretty pussy on my face, baby."

You didn't have to be told twice, moaning as your pussy landed right on his mouth, his tongue moving quickly to taste you. Your eyes closed, your nails digging into his abs before you leaned down to take his cock into your mouth, his own eyes rolling back at the feeling. Mingi swore there was something about how you took him deep in your throat that always made him fucking ravenous. He growled deeply against you, his hands moving to grip the globes of your ass as you took him deeper into your throat, all the way to the hilt.

"That's my fucking girl, taking me like a pro." Mingi praised, his tongue returning to you to match the pace that you set.

You stopped? He stopped.

You rolled your hips back? He rolled his hips up to make you choke on his cock.

Mingi was a man of many talents, and making you cum quickly was number one.

"I'm gonna cum, Mingi, fuck." You pulled back from his cock to pump him in your hand, your words urging your boyfriend to speed up as he curled his tongue, pumping another finger into you as he moaned, the vibrations helping you to cum all over his tongue.

Even though your haze you continued to pump Mingi's hard cock, Mingi tossing his head back against the floor as he praised you. "Faster, baby. Earn that nut from me, baby. I'm almost there with you just don't stop- oh my fucking god, yes"

Mingi couldn't even think straight as you deep-throated him, a small whine leaving his deep voice as he came. He didn't know what to grab onto, choosing to dig his fingers into your ass before he fully fell back against the floor, his body shaking slightly underneath you while you cleaned him up with your tongue. Mingi chuckled at the feeling, his hand landing a firm smack on your ass before he ran a hand over his face.

"You always make me cum so hard when you do that, baby. Always know how to make your man so fucking happy." He chuckled, helping you get up before he got up from the floor, his legs now slightly wobbly before as he laughed. He walked with you over to the bed, his hands resting against the sheets as he asked for a minute, still shaking from the orgasm you had given him, making you giggle. You loved watching Mingi recover from cumming, his hair being a mess, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the fresh layer of sweat making him glow in the room's light.

You crawled over to his hunched frame, pressing small kisses to his shoulders as he chuckled, his voice now even deeper. His hands then pushed you back on the bed, his tongue moving over your lips as he grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He slowly pushed into you, his long and thick cock stretching you out as he slowly filled you up, making sure that you felt every single part of his cock.

"Yeah, baby, roll those eyes back at how good just having my cock feels in you" Mingi moaned, his eyes burning into you as your eyes rolled back as he stuffed you full. He loved how your body seemed to react to his cock whenever you both fucked, his eyes now on your breasts as he began to fuck you, watching as they bounced.

"Those perfect tits of yours too, fuck. Saw Yeosang looking at them earlier while I was finger fucking you. I don't blame him though, just look at how juicy your tits look when they're moving from my fucking cock" you moaned as Mingi's hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he began to roll his hips, leaning down to wrap his lips around the nipple. Your moans got louder, your running through his hair as he switched nipples, his tongue moving over your nipples before he pulled back, pressing them against each other as he moved faster.

"Yeah, sing for me, Y/N. Sing for me while you take my cock" Mingi's pace picked up to drill into you, using your breasts as leverage to move you on his cock, his cock hitting deep into you as you moaned his name, your hands moving from the bed to his hair to his back; you didn't know where to hold on as he fucked you, your back arching as you felt your orgasm building up quickly. At your tightness, Mingi growled "No, not yet. You better hold on until I'm fucking ready, Y/N."

"Mingi" You begged, you cries not making your lover stop, only moving faster, his eyes moving from your face to your tits he still held onto your stomach as his cock plowed into you. He loved how you begged for him, his cock twitching before growled out "cum, cum for me baby"

You both came hard, your vision becoming blurry as Mingi's pace stuttered, his cock plowing into you before he filled you, his eyes closing before he rushed down to suck and lick on your tits, leaving hickies behind as he moaned and panted against you. You held him close as you both panted, Mingi soon landing on the bed right against you as you both tried to calm down. Your eyes were closed as Mingi kissed your shoulder, his hand moving your face to his as he kissed you, his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

You rested against the bed as Mingi got up, blinking still as his vision returned, stumbling to grab both you and him a water bottle before he went back over to you, his phone also in his hand. He opened your bottle, handing it to you before he said "I'll turn the water on for you, baby, just lay there."

You nodded, resting with the cold water bottle while Mingi went into the bathroom, turning on the water for you and him to bathe. He sat down against the side of the tub, taking a sip of his water as he unlocked his phone, his eyes zeroing in on a text from Yeosang.

Yeosang: If you and her ever want an audience or more, I'd be more than happy to do so again.

BAMBIKISSS | 2024

[ktgoodmorning]

Stressed

Alexia Putellas x reader

Masterlist

Summary: you've been having a rough time at work lately

Warnings: none

You came home from work absolutely exhausted, yet again. You didn’t know how many days it had been going like this but you were beyond stressed trying to keep up with the demands of your job. Alexia greeted you as you trudged inside, dropping your bag on the floor, and passing her to go straight to flopping down, face first, on the couch. She knew you had been overwhelmed lately and not to take your lack of response personally. You weren’t always great about opening up to people about all your feelings, especially not to Alexia. In your mind, she had more stress going on at her job at the moment and the last thing you wanted to do was add to it. It was probably stupid anyways, and you thought you should probably just get over it. Because of this, your girlfriend knew none of the specifics and just knew that you always came home exhausted and not your typically bubbly self lately. 

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia came over and sat down by where you remained lying motionless on the couch and set her hand on your back as she did so. You remained silent, face still pressed into the cushions, as you tried to keep it together. As stressed out as you were, you really didn’t want to break down in front of Alexia over this. If you let her see how badly you were struggling, she’d worry about you endlessly and she didn’t need that right now. She knew you well enough though to take your lack of response as a bad sign. “Are you okay? Rough day at work?” The concern she had for you was clear in her voice as she lightly rubbed her hand over your back, attempting to calm you down from whatever had gone on at work today. You shook your head silently and shifted so your head was on her lap, still facing away from her. Alexia seemed to understand that you didn’t want to talk, knowing that that was typically the same reaction that she had to stress as well, and silently ran her hand through your hair. 

After a while, when she felt like you had relaxed some, she decided on trying to cheer you up. Unlike her, you were typically very social and bubbly, energized by being around people. “Amor, some of the girls were going to go out tonight, did you want to go? It might be a good way to relax, get some energy out, forget about work for a while?” 

Unbeknownst to your girlfriend, nothing sounded worse to you than going out tonight. What you’d prefer to do was to lay in a ball cuddling into your girlfriend, cry, maybe yell about how frustrated you were, eat junk food, and go to sleep with Alexia by your side. However for some reason, the idea of letting your girlfriend see you like that was terrifying. After thinking for a minute, you pushed yourself up off her lap, shook your head slightly, and mumbled to her that you were going to bed before heading into your room to do just that. 

It was the first you had spoken since coming home tonight and at this point, Alexia was getting extremely worried. This was so unlike you. Even though lately you had clearly been having a tough time with your job, you always were back to your typical self after a while and would go on as if nothing happened. She was getting concerned that something seriously bad was going on at your job and that you were being put at risk. She was still sitting on the couch, dumbfounded, trying to figure out how she could help you. It was also rare for you to deny a night out with her team. You had gotten close with Mapi, both of you having a very similar energy. You’d even told her lately that you’d been missing Mapi and Ingrid and would like to see them soon, making your rejection that much more concerning to her. After a few minutes of her just sitting, continuing to think and worry, she realized she may as well at least try to follow you and provide you whatever relief you let her. 

Alexia got up and went into your shared bedroom, expecting to find you still getting ready for bed, or laying in bed reading. Instead, she was surprised to see you fast asleep, curled up into her pillow, wearing one of her old t-shirts. She smiled softly to herself at how sweet you looked, even though your sleeping just made her worry grow. You always went to bed late and you always did some reading before bed, no matter what time it was and how tired you were. She also knew you hadn’t eaten dinner, but opted to let you continue to sleep. It was clear you needed it, and she just didn’t have the heart to wake you when you looked this comfortable. Deciding to try to address it in the morning, she got herself ready for bed and slid into bed next to you. You immediately curled into her side, tightly gripping her t-shirt and pulling her as close as possible. She held you tightly, joining you in drifting off to sleep. 

The next morning, the sun shining past your curtains gently woke you. You noticed you were still clinging onto Alexia tightly while she happily held you tightly. It was as if she was trying to protect you from all the stress of the outside world, trying to keep you in your shared little bubble of peace. Your eyes fluttered open just to see Alexia already looking down at you tiredly. She gave you a small smile as she mumbled a sleepy good morning, somehow managing to squeeze you even tighter. You were too tired and too comfortable to be bothered by how clingy you were being with her, as you hummed in response and rolled so you were laying completely on top of her. For the next while, the two of you continued to peacefully lay together while she rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Somehow, she always knew how to make your problems melt away when you were together. It didn’t know how temporary it was, it made you feel like nothing else mattered. 

Eventually Alexia looked down at you and softly moved some hair from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear. “Mi amor, I think we should talk about what’s been going on with you,” she gently whispered, not trying to add to your stress. You just shook your head silently, burrowing further into her. You wanted to stay in this peaceful world with Alexia. Talking about work would ruin your lovely moment here with your girlfriend and that’s the last thing you wanted. She could feel that you had immediately tensed up and didn’t want to push you further at the moment, instead offering to get up and make breakfast instead. 

You quietly got ready for the day while she went to the kitchen to start making your favorites. She knew that your favorite breakfast combined with a slow, quiet, morning with her would surely put you in a better mood and leave you ready to face some of your feelings. As usual, she was right. At this point, basically knew you better than you knew yourself.  When she was done making breakfast, the two of you sat quietly on the couch together, watching one of your favorite reality shows. It was a peaceful morning, just enjoying each other’s company while not having to worry about rushing to do anything else. It was exactly what you needed in every way. 

Finishing your last bite, you set your plate down on the coffee table with a big sigh. Looking up at you, Alexia knew what was coming. 

“Can I vent for a minute?” you finally asked, somewhat hesitantly. Your eyes were down at your lap, still trying to avoid adding to her stress while also wanting to finally let out all of the thoughts that you couldn’t keep to yourself any longer. 

“Of course, mi amor,” she grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, getting you to look up at her. “You can always talk to me,” she gave you a nod, encouraging you to continue. 

“Everyone expects so much of me but doesn't even seem to care when I give them everything they want. I’m bending over backwards trying to make it all happen and nobody even notices. They only seem to notice when I miss something and it’s all just too much, I can’t do it.” Alexia was looking at you with wide eyes, not expecting how fast you let out all of your frustrations. You took her silence as an opportunity to continue. “I know it’s all dumb and I should be able to handle it but it’s just so frustrating and I don’t know why it’s stressing me out so much. You handle way more than this and you thrive off of it but one inconvenience and I’m having a stupid breakdown.” Now your eyes were starting to fill with tears, frustrated with your job but also with yourself and your ability to handle all of the stress. 

Finally she spoke up as you started to really lose it. She pulled you into a tight hug and began rubbing her hand up and down your back, helping you calm down. “Breathe, you’re okay mi amor, I’ve got you. Take a deep breath.” After a few minutes, you began to settle, breathing more steadily, ready to talk again. You pulled away from her slightly to wipe your tears and look up at her, slightly ashamed of your sudden breakdown. 

Alexia held your face in her hands as she stared into your eyes. “It’s not dumb, baby. You have every right to be stressed. It sounds like they aren’t appreciating all you do for them and they aren’t treating you very well.” You nodded slightly, trying to really focus on her words. “I think you should try talking to your boss about the responsibility that’s being placed on you, this isn’t healthy, you can’t keep going on like this.”  

You nodded more confidently this time, “I know. I know I need to. I probably will on Monday, I just feel bad.” You still hated that you felt like you were letting everyone down even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. 

“Don’t feel bad, love. You can’t carry the weight of the world on you. I miss you coming home full of energy and trying to force me to come out with you. You aren’t yourself lately and I just miss you.” This time, Alexia was staring deep into your eyes, making sure you’d take every single one of her words to heart. She meant every word and would’ve done anything to help you see yourself in the way she saw you. Her words seemed to do the job, at least at the moment. 

“Thank you, Ale,” you had a little more heart in your voice as you fell into her for another hug, “I love you,” you mumbled into her shirt. 

“I love you, mi amor. Now what can we do to make your day better?” Alexia pulled away from you, this time holding you by your shoulders, looking at you with a small smile, ready to do whatever it takes to make you feel better. 

You shrugged slightly, “kiss me, hold me, literally anything with you will make me feel better, Ale. Being with you just makes me feel better.” Finally you smiled back at her, the first she had seen your smile in a few days. 

Your girlfriend looked back at you, her own smile growing, “Hmm well I think we can arrange for that. How about this- you, me, your favorite hoodie of mine, the couch, and a glass of wine? How’s that sound?” She continued to look at you encouragingly, knowing that this was exactly what you needed. 

“That sounds perfect, Ale.” You sunk back into her arms again. You were amazed by how well she knew you and knew exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t know what you needed. It was the perfect day, laying around and being lazy with Alexia. You were so at peace with the world, suddenly your problems seemed to have disappeared and you were back to your typical self, ready to face your boss and any other issues that came up at work. Life seemed much easier when you were reminded that this was what you got to come home to.

masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

[wordstome]

Satyr!König Headcanons

Yesterday I was talking with the lovely @kneelingshadowsalome about her satyr König au, and boy, did we cook. Good morning Finland, it's time to take some hairy goat man cock! (Most of these are adapted from our DMs! Headcanons in bold are by Salome, with minor changes)

It's just König's luck, really, for him to finally get his hands on a pretty little nymph to fuck and fill with his potent seed and she runs off on him! And now he's certain that she's hiding from him, which has him absolutely fuming. If she's going to play this little game, he'll just have to hunt her down...

Meanwhile, she’s freaking out because her monthly blood is very, very late, and she suspects that awful satyr is to blame. All her little nymph friends are sympathetic, but they did warn her!

She may be sulking about her predicament, but part of her becomes wildly jealous when she sees her friends are "torturing" the poor satyr. Never even wanted to see that big hairy pervert again, but also doesn't want others to frolick around him even if he's chained to a tree!

The little nymph does end up feeling sorry for the man, so when it's nighttime and all her friends have scurried away, she creeps up to him quiet like a mouse to free him. Of course, she ends up getting a pounding for all her troubles...what did she expect?

He's not making the same mistake letting her go again! He makes good on his promise to lick her to completion, and then she just curls up and falls asleep...silly, silly thing. Giving him the perfect opportunity to scoop her up and whisk her to his lair. Her fellow nymph sisters wail and cry and demand her return, but König's not telling where he's keeping her squirreled away.

She's stomping mad about her new situation. Not only is she separated from her sisters and unable to live free and wild in the sunshine as she used to, but she and König are always bickering and arguing, ending up more often than not with him folding her into a mating press...

She's offended when he brings her fresh meat to eat, which of course confuses him. He had only meant to show how strong and competent of a provider he is, hunting for his woman, but his difficult little nymph has the nerve to turn her nose up at it and scold him. Doesn't he know nymphs only eat berries and flowers and other gifts that the earth gives to nourish them?

Of course she tries to break out of the dark woodland prison he's keeping her in, but the first time he catches her, he only gives her a terrible smirk and shows her the exit. She's welcome to leave, but he lives in the dark, deep part of the woods that the nymphs don't dare trespass in, where hungry wolves and other awful satyrs live...

Naturally, she would never risk being caught and taken to some other horny satyr's lair. At least here he gives some care to her wellbeing and all the attention a sulky little nature spirit could want...

He is trying, she supposes...he's stopped bringing her all that awful bloody meat to eat, he makes her a soft little bed of grasses and flowers to sleep on, and treats her like a fussy little princess. But she can't start growing fond of him...!

König, meanwhile, is on cloud nine with his pretty little nymph. she stays right where he wants her, always pouting and mewling for his attention, and only fusses a little bit when he warms his cock inside her. what more could a nasty satyr like him even want?

It becomes endearing, how well he provides all she asks for. Not that she's ever going to show her feelings to him of course. Just happens to twirl the hair on his chest around her fingers before she falls asleep on his lap...

Falling for this nasty old faun isn't what she signed up for when she straddled him that day. But she also can’t complain, because he is good with that tongue of his…

So good she can't even find it in herself to be mad when he pervs on her when she's resting and trying to get some sleep:

It’s nighttime when she’s woken up with a start. Probably just König back from a hunt, hopped up on adrenaline and ready to breed her again. But to her horror, it’s some other strange faun man, leering at her with dubious intent. Turns out there are downsides to making your little pet nymph scream with pleasure every night: namely, that the wrong person might hear...

Ordinarily, she would have no trouble fleeing or fighting back, but she’s just not used to the dark wood and hard packed dirt of this part of the forest, and finds herself frozen with terror as the stranger approaches her. He’s nowhere near König’s size, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be giving her a tough time.

Then she hears a very familiar roar, but this time it’s not of frustration or pleasure as she's used to hearing it, but raw anger, and she knows her satyr is back and very much not pleased to find an intruder menacing his little nymph. Nymphs are no lightweights when it comes to offensive magic in their arsenal, of course: König's already learned that the hard way. But they call him the king for a reason...his powers are a different ballpark entirely.

The intruder barely has time to beg for his life when König is summoning forth thick, thorny vines to ensnare him, causing the other satyr to holler in pain. The nymph knows what's about to come, and stuffs moss into her ears just as the sound of pan flutes fills the air. She watches in a mix of horror and intrigue as the intruder writhes and panics, tearing himself to shreds on the thorns...

It's over quickly, and the whole ordeal sends her trembling into her soft little bed of moss and grass. There's a brief period of time where she knows König is disposing of what's left of the intruder, and then she feels his gentle touch on her back.

She sniffles as she meets his adoring, half-crazed gaze. She knows she should be petrified of him, considering she just watched him drive another man to such madness that he ended his own life in the most painful manner possible. He's rubbed off on her in a terrible way, though, because all she can think of doing is spreading her pretty legs for him...

Haha anyway hope you guys enjoyed those headcanons! Maybe König's satyr madness will seize me again sometime and I'll write more :)

PS. The Greek god Pan, who is very notably depicted as a satyr, is known for two things that he lent his name to: pan pipes and the word panic. The origin story of the pan pipes is that he was chasing a nymph, who turned herself into reeds to escape him. He then proceeded to turn those reeds into an instrument he could put his lips all over....nasty!

[shanastoryteller]

happy pride!! dealer’s choice <3

Steve is going to die again just a few short years after waking up in this new world and his death is going to be significantly less glorious the second time around.

“You don’t think he’s going to come,” Duke Rhodes says, tied up next to him and in even worse shape than he is. An unfortunate side effect of not being a sorcerer’s experiment and being nearly a decade older than him, he assumes.

“You do?” he asks, too exhausted to filter himself like he tries to do around him.

Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “I think his champion and his general are tempting enough bait, yes. Listening to their demands and showing up alone is also the most foolish choice he could possibly make, so I’m confident the king won’t be able to help himself.”

Those words would be treason from anyone else, but Rhodes has long been King Anthony’s personal confidant, and the one managing this war for the king from the beginning. Steve supposes that grants the man a certain level of leeway.

Steve is, now and always, exactly what he was enchanted to be. The King’s Champion. From the moment he woke up in a land at once so familiar and so different from his own, he renewed the vow he took seventy years ago. To serve his king and uphold the dignity of the realm so long as a Stark sat on the throne.

King Howard, however, had been an easier man to serve. He’d at least taken the time to meet with Steve, for one, had taken an active interest in the war he fought rather than delegating it and holing himself up in his castle. He’d been cold, and detached in many way from the realities of the war he’d started, but he was a king, and his attention, however brief, had always rallied the troops in a way that Steve admired.

King Anthony at least delegates well, he’ll give the man that. Rhodes does not come from noble blood, something they share, but by the time Steve woke up here it was long past something others were willing to hold against Rhodes. His title of Duke had been a gift from the king. His title of General had been one he earned.

“Steve?” Rhodes frowns, eyeing him like he’s looking for injuries that he hasn’t noticed.

Perhaps Steve is more injured than he thinks, because he doesn’t have the good sense to stop himself from saying, “He did not come for his alchemist.”

He tenses, but Rhodes just sighs, shifting in his bonds as if trying to find a more comfortable position even though if that existed, they would have found it by now. “You hold a grudge for something that happened not only before your time, but for something that Edward does not.”

“Edward is too forgiving,” he says stiffly and doesn’t say the same of Rhodes even though he thinks it often.

He sees the warmth and tenderness and affection between Rhodes and Edward clearly and it galls him that Rhodes has so easily forgiven his king leaving the man Rhodes loves to die. Edward is often trying to coax Steve and Rhodes into a more affectionate relationship, but it’s a hurdle Steve can’t quite overcome.

When he’d first awoken there had been nothing but mourning and determination and another war and then there was Edward. Infuriating and funny and warm and completely irreverent, the only person who seemed to treat him as more than cursed and made his terrible circumstances feel like home. Alchemist, armorer, blacksmith – he seemed to do everything and anything required by the crown and with a speed and skill that left Steve breathless. Rhodes may be directing and managing the war but without Edward’s tinctures and potions and weapons and armor, the war would have been lost long ago.

And when he’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, their enemy demanding the king’s presence to free him, the king had stayed safe in his castle.

Steve understood it logically. He’d had no queen or heir at the time and was the last legitimate Stark. Even if he’d been the type of king who cared about his people, he could not risk himself for a subject, no matter how valuable, no matter how much that subject sacrificed or gave or how valuable he was.

But that was just as true for him and Rhodes as it was for Edward and the king had left Edward to be tortured. They had tried to force him to make weapons, to betray his king, and Edward had refused. Steve saw some of the marks of that torture even now, years later, and he could not bring himself to love a king who did not care for that devotion, who hid away in his castle and let better men fight for his kingdom.

He was not required to love his king, only obey and serve him, and that Steve had always done.

He’d earned his title too. Both under King Howard and King Anthony. Being the King’s Champion did not mean being his friend. Not that was something he could claim to be, when he’d never even met the man.

“The Iron Mage saved him and the Iron Mage serves the king,” Rhodes points out, as if Steve doesn’t know that. “Isn’t that enough?”

The Iron Mage is his battle brother and his friend and yet another pillar keeping the kingdom steady while King Anthony can’t seem to be bothered. He holds the light of a star in the center of his chest and uses magic like a blunt weapon, the elements of the star sliding over his body, shifting and changing metals as he brutalizes the battlefield. Those that had captured Edward had found their base reduced to rubble and the Iron Mage appeared wielding a power that not even Sorcerer Strange could explain.

They said he was Goddess blessed, sent from the heavens as a shooting star to aid the king in his war, to ensure victory for the Starks who ruled by divine right of the Goddess Herself. Steve wasn’t sure of all that. The Iron Mage seemed man enough, for all he was constantly covered in his strange shifting, shimmering metal. His voice came out raspy and too low, as if he was in pain, and Steve often wondered if holding the core of a star was worth the consequences, but he was the last one to ask questions like that, considering what he’d allowed Sorcerer Erskine to do to him. The Iron Mage’s humor was wry and ever present despite that, and Steve often thought that he and Edward would get along, if the Iron Mage could ever be coaxed into spending time off the battlefield with the man he saved all those years ago.

But he couldn’t quite lay that victory at King Anthony’s feet. If anything, it seemed like the Iron Mage had used saving Edward as a way to secure his place at the king’s side, rather than that he’d been sent by the king in the first place. No one had heard of such a mage before that, after all.

“Perhaps the Iron Mage will come for us,” he says instead of answering. It’s possible. But the Iron Mage is supposed to be on the other end of the battlefield by now and by the time he hears of his and Rhodes’s capture, it may be too late.

Rhodes shakes his head. “You need to have a little more faith in your king.”

“Why should I?” he snaps, knowing starting an argument when they’re literally tied together is a dumb decision, but like most of his dumb decisions, he can’t help himself. “When King Howard dragged us to war, he at least let us see his face, he made an effort. I hardly expect a king to take to the battlefield, but King Anthony stays in his castle, with his drink and his women if the rumors are to be believed. Queen Virginia has introduced herself to the soldiers several times but the king has not. What sort of man is he to ask faith from me?”

“Well, I said faith, not trust,” Rhodes says tiredly. “Tony didn’t start this war and he’s doing his best to end it.” It’s rare that Rhodes will slip into the familiar name for the king, but it startles Steve every time, the reminder of just how close the general and the king are, and how little that closeness had mattered when Edward was captured. “Although I’ll grant you that you’re right about one thing.”

Steve is exhausted suddenly, in a way that has little to do with his lack of sleep or his injuries, but he’s too grateful for Rhodes keeping his temper while he can’t to ignore him now. “What’s that?”

“Tony is nothing like his father.”

[sapphic-serenade]

Selfish

pairing: Atsushi x AFAB!cat!reader plot: You ask Atsushi to leave work early to help satiate your heat, and he does just that. word count: 2.2k contains: Reader has a cat ability similar to Atsushi's, reader and Atsushi are both in heat, reader and Atsushi are both using their abilities, established relationship, missionary, mating press, biting, tit sucking, unprotected sex, possessiveness, breeding kink, probably a lot of inaccuracies (virgin moment, sry), lmk if I missed anything a/n: Well well well my first one! I hope you guys enjoy it~ feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Atsushi would never want to admit this, just because of how terrible it sounded, but he was being selfish. So, so selfish, but also so selfless at once.

He did what he always did when he had to leave for work before you'd woken up- plant a small kiss on your forehead, leave a small note on the table, grab his pre-packed lunch that you'd prepared the previous night and leave. Yet, he felt off. Everything at the Agency was business as usual too—his coworkers, the clients, even down to the workload—still, he couldn't shake off the physical discomfort he was experiencing.

Atsushi knew it probably wasn't the best idea to try and go to work during his heat, especially since you were also going through it at the same time, but neglecting what he considered to be one of his moral duties just felt scummy, especially for the sake of his own lust.

Still, he was having a hard time. Though he knew that his job was an important one that absolutely demanded his full attention, the memory of your sleeping figure lingered in the back of his mind. The sweet scent that hung around your almost-nude, warm body, plastered in a thin sheen of sweat...the simple thought was enough to make him hard within seconds. He'd barely even held back from waking you up to have a quick round of morning sex before work.

He thought it would be best for the both of you if he tried to stave off his urges until he got home, difficult as it may have been. Unfortunately, nature doesn't quite like when you go against it so brazenly.

At home, you were curled up in bed, feeling lonely as ever. Your libido was through the roof, and yet you couldn't do a single thing about it. Your fingers, while being an adequate option at any other time of the month, certainly wouldn't be able to get you through your heat. You needed your partner; needed him to plunge his cock as deep into you as it could go and fuck you senseless until you were full with his seed. Atsushi's scent hung on the sheets on his side of the bed, and you rolled over to cuddle his pillow. You were hot, unbearably so, and all you could think about was Atsushi. You felt like you'd die if you weren't stuffed with his cum soon.

Panting heavily, eyes tearing up, you reached over to grab your phone from your bedside table, your clammy hand almost dropping it on the ground. Clenching your teeth, you opened messages and scrolled to Atsushi's contact.

You almost hesitated to text him. Would making him leave work just to come and fuck you be selfish? At the very least, anybody else would deem it unnecessary. But they weren't writhing in their beds, naked and yet sweltering, feeling like they could burst at any moment. They didn't have any abilities that only exacerbated the discomfort, making them even more sensitive to sound and touch. They didn't know what Atsushi was capable of.

Biting your lip, you clumsily typed in three simple words and pressed 'send'.

Atsushi, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, pulled it out and saw the singular notification.

i need you

Atsushi, in what would have certainly been considered unusual by everyone else, stood up without a word and made his way to the door, taking nothing and nobody else with him. It was as if he couldn't hear the objections of everyone else, or even the simple 'Where are you going's.

He was probably gonna get in trouble for it, but he'd long since tuned out any common sense by that point in favour of thinking about you and you alone.

This was selfish of him. Though he knew that coming home and having sex with you would undeniably make you feel better, it was ultimately for himself that he'd left work that day. He craved the feeling of your welcoming, wet pussy far too much, wanting nothing more than to completely fill you to the brim. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

The trip wasn't far, thank god. Atsushi didn't even take the time to remove his shoes when he got home, instead pulling them off haphazardly on the way to your shared bedroom.

When he soon burst through the door and laid eyes on you, he could have came right then and there.

You were stark naked in bed, desperately rutting against his pillow as soft whimpers left your mouth. Your feline ears and tail were on full display, twitching as if you were about to explode from the discomfort. Your red face was half buried in the blanket, your fangs sinking into the material like a teething toy as your catlike eyes were slightly glazed over beneath furrowed brows. When they saw him, you lifted your head and let out a small mewl.

"Atsushi..." you wailed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I'm sorry-"

"Y/N," he choked out, before shaking his head and approaching you. "Don't be sorry."

"I just...ngh-"

"I'm here, baby," he huffed as he yanked at his tie, climbing onto the bed. "I'm here now."

"'Sushi..." you whined, rolling over and exposing your sore, swollen tits to him. “I need you…”

"I- god, I need you too-" Atsushi hurriedly replied, crawling so that he was hovering over you. He immediately smashed his lips onto yours and your arms wrapped around his neck, effectively keeping your faces trapped together. You quickly parted your lips, allowing his tongue inside your mouth, and already you felt as if you could cum from his hungry, possessive kisses.

Atsushi finally pulled off his tie, and the pair of you hastily unbuttoned his shirt and trousers, pulling them all off until he was only clad in his underwear. His erection wasn't at all hidden, especially not when Atsushi grinded it against your wet cunt as he kissed you. The friction of the now-wet fabric made you whine into the kiss.

"C'mon, Atsushi..." you murmured, reaching down to grab the waistband of his underwear. "Please fuck me."

When you opened your eyes, you were met with Atsushi's golden, tiger ones staring back at you. His ears, tail, claws and fangs had appeared too, making him appear larger as he hovered above you. Atsushi obliged, helping you pull down his underwear so his cock sprung free, before tossing them somewhere across the room. You took his already-leaking dick in your hand, earning a hiss from your partner, and pumped it a couple of times. The tip was red and would have been very sensitive, but you didn't have time to tease him today. You just wanted him inside you as soon as possible.

Atsushi pulled back so that he was perched in between your thighs, and lined up his cock with your entrance. He prodded your pussy with his tip, gathering some of your slick, before looking into your eyes.

"Are you ready?" His grip on your hips tightened slightly.

"Yeah," you nodded, swallowing. "Please..."

You both let out loud moans as he finally sank into you, your wetness acting as a more-than-adequate lubricant. Atsushi did his best to savour the moment, slowly pushing his cock deeper, but the feeling of your pussy clenching him was too much to bear. You wailed as he bottomed out, the sudden pleasure coursing through your veins and leaving you shaky already.

Atsushi wasted no time, pulling all except his tip out and then slamming back into you. Your apartment wasn't a big and nice one, so your walls weren't exactly soundproof, but your judgement was too clouded to worry about the repercussions of your loud, borderline pornographic screams.

It was messy. Your kisses were sloppy, sweaty bodies colliding against each other in the most passionate round of sex the two of you had had in a long time. It was always like that during your heats. Your claws dug into Atsushi's back, scratching at his skin, struggling to keep a steady hold. His hands had an iron grip on your waist, leaving little red marks in your soft skin.

"'Sushi- shit-" you groaned, tossing your head back onto the pillow, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Ah, so good!"

"Yeah? You—fuck—you like that, beautiful?" He breathed, his eyes locked on your gratified, fucked-out face.

"Please, more!" You managed to gasp in response. "Want more...!"

Atsushi's mouth made its way down your neck, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses and love bites all across your collarbones and shoulders. He focused especially on your sensitive areas, fangs grazing over your sweet spots before burying into your skin. You moaned and whimpered with each new marking he gave you, making his dick twitch inside of you.

"Mm, so fuckin' gorgeous, baby..." he muttered against your skin, "Gorgeous, and all mine, yeah?"

Usually Atsushi didn't talk like this, his tone being more gentle and less vulgar, but he simply couldn't help himself. Not as he watched the bites that he gave you blossom into pretty little hickeys, marks that indicated that you were his, and he was yours. He increased his speed.

"Yeah- ah- all yours, babe-" you were interrupted by another bite, which made you cry out in pain and pleasure. The combination of feelings felt amazing, and you found it getting increasingly harder to talk properly. You reached a hand up behind one of his tiger ears, dragging your claws over the area. You felt Atsushi's body tremble above you for barely a second before he hissed.

"Fuck, Atsushi, give it all to me," you moaned through his thrusts, "Gimme a whole litter, c'mon..."

It was as if something inside him snapped. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea, but rather that he might have liked it a little too much.

Before you knew it, your body was folded in half as Atsushi's cock prodded against your cervix, making you see stars. He was so deep, hitting all of the most pleasurable spots that nobody else would ever reach. His clawed hands pinned your ankles next to your head as he thrusted at an inhumane speed, courtesy of his ability. You couldn't contain your wails, barely able to form any coherent thoughts let alone speak.

"'Sushi-!" you babbled over and over in unison with the headboard slamming against the wall. Atsushi leaned down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it. The pleasure was almost too much for your body to handle, and you could feel yourself getting close. "Right fucking there, yes...!"

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he lifted his head, his lips connected to your breast with a thin string of saliva. "Gonna fill you with my cubs, make us a family..."

You merely moaned in response, as you felt the coil in your lower stomach tightening further and further, until it finally snapped.

You didn't breathe for a moment as your orgasm washed over your entire being, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You didn't think you'd ever felt so good before. From your cunt all the way to your fingertips and toes, the electric feeling rushed through you, making you writhe and gasp in pure satisfaction. Atsushi continued to relentlessly pound into you, and you could tell as you rode through your high that he was getting close too.

A few intense seconds passed by before he let out a guttural grunt and you felt his warm load shoot deep into you, painting your walls white. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, buried as far as it could fit, and he let out a raspy moan at the sensation.

"Ah, god, Y/N..." he whispered, as he slowly thrusted a couple more times, shooting out more cum before calming down from his own high. "Did so good f'me, baby..."

"Mmh..." Atsushi slowly helped you lower down your legs, but not before pressing a few sneaky kisses to your calves. He didn't pull out, not wanting his cum to spill out of your hole, but instead tilted his head back and let out a long sigh.

"Gonna stay inside, okay?" He asked, and you nodded. With the little strength you had left, you reached up and caressed his jaw with a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry I made you leave work early."

"Hm?" He glanced down at you, taking your hand in his own. "Don't be- this was so worth leaving work for."

You chuckled at his words.

"Thanks, Atsushi, for this. I love you so much, you know that?"

With a smile, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. His fingers softly brushed over your stomach.

"I love you too." Atsushi breathed, his voice lighter than air. Feeling his breath fan against your swollen lips, you cupped his cheeks in your hands.

"Do you..." you paused for a moment. "Do you actually think that it took, just now?" Atsushi raised an eyebrow at your question, before his lip curled up.

"I don't know. Maybe, just in case..." he cut himself off by kissing you again, and you then noticed his cock inside of you, hardening once more. You smiled into the kiss, knowing that the two of you were gonna be there for a while.

MDNI banner: @/benkeibear

Tagging: @gettinshiggywithit @pillow-princess-diaries

(Please shoot me an ask or a DM if you'd like to join my taglist!)

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Fire Lord Ozai Would Include:

His most prominent trait would be a lack of impulse control, which can manifest in many different ways. For example, being possessive and jealous, wanting to monopolize his beloved's attention, and becoming confrontational when faced with potential rivals for your affection. He may also act impulsively towards his beloved, expressing his obsession more intensely than usual and being overly eager to please you, even if it means crossing moral or legal boundaries.

Extremely affectionate and loving (Lovebombing), at least at the beginning, but incredibly possessive and envious when anyone else attempts to claim your affection. He will do anything for you. He'd kill everyone around you and then himself for you to be his.

If you tried to leave, rejected his love, or even implied that you were interested in someone else, he would be overcome with jealous rage. This can sometimes escalate to violence, as he may become physical in his attempts to prevent you from leaving or to punish you for being unfaithful. And if anyone were to ever hurt or threaten you, he would become so furious and vindictive that he would stop at nothing to make them pay.

He likes to exhibit extreme emotion and passion in his love and affection towards you. He may become overly attached, possessive, jealous, obsessive, and clingy, as well as demonstrating intense feelings of jealousy and anger towards any perceived rival or threat. In extreme cases, this can lead to violent behavior, manipulative acts, and even harmful or even fatal attacks.

He does not feel any remorse. Even when/if he hurts you, he will feel no guilt. You will belong to him and him alone, and he does not believe in being gentle when you resist. He is relentless and he will make you obey.

He has been told his intensity can be quite suffocating at times. He will devote his whole being to his one true love. And I mean whole.

This means that when he is attracted to someone, he'll feel an irresistible sense of ownership over you, even to the point where this feeling could develop into an obsession. He will be manipulative and try to exert control over you by any means necessary, so you can never leave him.

He will be extremely possessive over you, to the point where he will try to control every aspect of your life in order to ensure that you can never leave him. This includes isolating you from your friends and family, as well as controlling what you do and where you go. He even resorts to violence if you try to defy him in any way.

He'll be jealous of anyone showing any interest in his "property", and feel a need to "mark" you, and even eliminate anyone who could potentially pose a threat to the person he is obsessed with. He will have a violent, temperamental personality that will only be amplified around you. He will be very possessive and dominant, and get jealous even by little things like someone talking to you. In his eyes, you will be his and no one else's even before you are together.

Once his obsession over you is fully formed, he becomes very possessive of you and will isolate you from any other people who may have an influence on you. He can even become more violent when he feels that he is losing you, showing that he has no problem harming the same person that he is supposed to care about.

He'd make you to be his everything. He'd demand that you spend every waking moment with him. He'd never want you to leave his side. He would be very jealous and possessive of you and would get angry at anyone who tried to take your attention away from him. In other words, he'd always want to be your number one priority.

If you somehow did manage to get away from him or you ended things, he would become violent and manipulative in order to get you back. He would resort to blackmail, bribery, and physical force if necessary.

He would also become emotionally manipulative, using guilt and shame to get you into doing what he wants. He would do anything to make you rely on him so that he could manipulate you into staying with him. He could turn your friends and family against you by spreading lies and rumors about you, or even threatening them if they ever tried to help you. Anything they love and anything they care about could be used against them in order to make you stay so that they will never have you for themselves.

He would also be prone to extreme mood swings from hot to cold, from lovey-dovey and affectionate, to violent and manipulative, depending on how much you have given in to his demands. He would constantly question you about your feelings towards him and be extremely jealous of any time spent with others. He would become obsessed with you and the image of you together, often becoming delusional and ignoring any warning signs that you may be planning to escape from his clutches.

He would reward you for compliance. Your well-being and safety would be an important factor in his decision making and if you behaved according to his wishes, you could expect gifts and praise.

He would punish you harshly if you acted out of line, he felt an intense rage that can only be satisfied through harsh punishment. The severity of the punishment depends on the severity of the offense. Some common forms of punishment he might inflict include spankings, binding and gagging, being made to endure humiliating acts, or being dressed up in embarrassing outfits.

If someone else were to try and take you away from him before you had fully fallen into his clutches, he would do his best to manipulate you and get you to return to his side. He would tell you that he is the only one who truly loves and understands you and that any other person would be a bad influence on you. He would do everything he could to make sure that you stayed with him and dealt with whoever was attempting to break you up.

Azula and Zuko, both reacted very differently to his behavior. Azula became very similar to him, and shared his cruel and manipulative personality over you, becoming his most trusted confidant and gets to watch over you for him. Zuko, however, was horrified by his behavior, and he could not understand why he would treat you in such a way. And tried to confront him on many occasions, but Ozai refused to listen to him.

Going on dates with him could be quite a rollercoaster experience. He would start off very charming and attentive, but over the course of the date, his mood may change drastically as you do or say something that irritates him or makes him suspicious about your behavior. This could end up leading to him questioning you about your thoughts on the date and your intentions.

Affection from him would start out as affectionate and attentive, but his possessive and obsessive nature would soon take over. He would only show you affection when he was getting his own way or when he felt it was appropriate for you to receive it. He would withhold any type of touching if he felt that you had not met his demands. He would only touch you when he wanted to, whether physically or emotionally. He would be very particular about how much physical affection you receive and when it takes place.

He'd always make sure you knew how much he loved you and how much you needed him. You'd be isolated from your family and friends, and you'd never be able to escape or get too close to anyone else. He'd be the only person you could ever rely on and trust.

"I want you to know that I've had my eyes on you for a long time, and now that you're in my grasp, I don't plan on letting you go. You're mine, and you always will be. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you by my side, whatever the cost. You're mine, and you're only all mine."

Orgasm denial - He loves to watch you squirm and struggle as he teases you with the promise of an orgasm, but never quite allowing you to reach climax.

Marking - Leaving hickeys or bites all over your body after you've had sex is such a powerful way to assert his dominance over you and leave a physical reminder of your time together.

Choking during sex – using his hands or a piece of bondage equipment like a collar to lightly squeeze your neck during foreplay or intercourse. It creates an intense sensation that really amps up the intensity and leaves you feeling completely helpless in his hands which he likes best.

Overstimulation - He also loves it when you cum multiple times in a single session – watching you struggle to catch your breath between orgasms and knowing that he's the reason for the pleasure is incredibly rewarding for him. And thinking that you're addicted to his cock and his touch is an amazing feeling.

One of his favorite things to do is play with your limits – pushing you further than you ever thought possible. He loves exploring the boundaries of your sexuality, finding out what makes you tick and how far you can be pushed before you break.

[xjulixred45x]

I know I have to work on the requests, but I have to get this out of my head because now I have a rediscovered love for Invincible, bear with it.

(SOMETHING LIKE A CONTINUATION OF THIS)

SOME SITUATIONS WITH YANDERE AU MARK GRAYSON/INVINCIBLE

okay, I can definitely see that you two were a couple or at least liked each other before everything went to hell.

and although you were fine with Mark at that time, when he was being convinced to join the Viltrum empire, he was somewhat seeking your approval. although using very vague assumptions, such as "would you accept an alien race if it meant world peace?" "or if that would help with the development of medicine?" You know, like what Nolan wanted to do at the beginning with Mark. and obviously since you didn't have the context you said yes without hesitation, further fueling Mark's crazy ideas.

I may not have made it very clear in the first part, but you and Nolan definitely don't get along. I mean, he's nice to you in a way, but he treats you like a little kid who needs discipline, so he tries to push Mark into that. Not only that, but you also indirectly blame him for the sudden change in Mark's personality, you know that if Nolan hadn't gotten him into that shit, he wouldn't have so much blood on his hands. The Mark you knew wasn't like that. HE WASNT.

The main reason this Mark doesn't feel angry because of your traditional escape attempts or why he's so soft is because of something our Invincible doesn't usually have, and that's his ARROGANCE. This Mark does not believe that you are capable of running away from him, you are not capable of defending yourself from him, you are not capable of harming him and above all you are not capable of HATE HIM, because he sees you as a soft creature, who should be treated as such because you are confused.

He is delusional, SpongeBob and Squidward level of Delusional. You could perfectly tell him that you hate him, that he's the worst thing that happened to you in your life... and he thinks it's reverse psychology.

"fuck you"

"Is that an invitation?😚"

"I hate you"

"I love you too babe🥰"

"If we were trapped on a desert island I wouldn't hesitate for a second to make a raft with your limbs"

"Silly you, I would take you out flying😘"

Do you see what I'm saying? For the same reason, if you end up hurting him, he would be proud that now you can definitely defend yourself from the Revolutionaries who "kidnap you every now and then" (it's you on the run). dang it, if you hurt him probably even NOLAN would compliment you for doing it despite being "so weak" and would completely approve of you.

(I can already imagine you with a wedding dress and a bouquet of knives...you want to throw it at Mark...in the face)

I think the most Mark does to scare you into escape scenarios is to threaten to throw you and not catch you next time, that's the best he goes. He can't stand the idea of leaving you paralyzed because it would be very boring and sad to see only a shell of you.

He wouldn't kill Eve, but he would never hurt you...physically. Did you see that in the end in their universe they manage to imprison him and get rid of Omniman? you totally didn't let go of Fem! Cecil(Cecilia?) all the way to her base and thanking her with all your heart and tears. Cecilia comforted you awkwardly, but she understood that you must have definitely had a hard time with Mark.

Meanwhile, with Mark already locked up, even if the world is a bit messed up, you can breathe easy for the first time in years, you can leave the base without fear of what happens to the people around you, you can eat without a problem, you can CHAT with people! it's magic! It's like you don't even remember anything before Mark! out of pure fear!

Meanwhile, Mark in prison always asks about you AT LEAST once a day, even if they give him proof that you are WELL and HEALTHY, he just doesn't believe it and DEMANDS to see you to prove it, which they obviously deny him and only makes him think that even more. The guy thinks you must be dying of hunger and cold or being eaten by collotes while you live your best life🤣

"MY POOR BABE! She must be so confused and scared without me! How do I know they're not torturing her for information!? She must be so worried because we're not getting home!" and it goes on and on... meanwhile Darling: "happy~ happy~happy~" "OHHHOOOhhOO, I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY!"

For now that's all. I hope the Viltrum empire doesn't come to shit on Darling's happiness☠️

[blues824]

Could I request Azul, Kalim, Epel, Jamil, and Ace being pulled into the chest of their big-busted female s/o?

My heart goes out to girls with big boobs, because I heard that they can make your backs hurt. I hope both sides of the pillow are cold for you to comfort you in your hard times. I have a pear shaped body, so sorry.

Ace Trappola

It was when his team won where you met him down on the basketball court and pulled him into your chest. Bro had no idea what to do in this situation, since this was the first time he was pulled face-first into his girlfriend’s boobs. He felt like he was lit on fire, and you even felt him growing hot. You pulled him back and asked if he was alright, and his voice cracked as he tried to tell you that he was okay.

He was not able to look at you for the rest of the day, and this saddened you. He eventually explained that it was because of you pulling his face into your tiddies, and that caused you to laugh because you have never seen Ace acting like that. You’ve caught him staring a few times, but this was on a whole other level of amusing.

That was the moment where his face flushed red as he told you to stop laughing at him and that it wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend was so attractive and affectionate at the same time, and that caused you to laugh even more. You would never let him live this down, and you would jokingly ask if you could hug him to make sure he was comfortable. He would roll his eyes before he nodded his head.

Azul Ashengrotto

You had entered the Mostro Lounge to meet with Azul, and to greet your boyfriend you pulled him into a hug. However, because of your large chest, he was kind of pressed up against it and that flustered him a lot. He wasn’t really used to physical affection, so when you saw him glowing red you asked if he was alright.

He stepped back and said that he was fine, but the tweels saw all of this and while Floyd was demanding a squeeze as well, Jade explained that his boss was not used to being hugged by someone with rather large endorsements. It would have been a cause of laughter on your side, but you saw that the cecaelia was absolutely ashamed so you told him that it was alright and that you should have asked anyway.

This made him feel a bit better, but he still was not able to look you in the eye even after you said that it was alright. You giggled every single time he would come up behind you to hug you instead of hugging you in front. His face was still red, but he was at least able to complete a sentence while talking to you.

Kalim Al-Asim

This man is so affectionate that he didn’t really think twice about it when you pulled him into your chest. He already likes using your chest as a sort of pillow when you both cuddle in his room as a reward for him doing good in his classes, so this isn’t really anything new. However, some of the Scarabia dorm members were definitely flustered upon seeing their Housewarden being pulled into your large bosom. 

He may have a tinge of blush on his face, but that’s mostly because the realization always hits that you are his girlfriend and it’s so cute. He will have a look on his face like he discovered something, and he will whisper something like ‘you are my girlfriend!’ and you will laugh as you say ‘yes, and you are my boyfriend!’ Literally adorable.

Anyways, the only people who are genuinely flustered are the people who witness you pulling Kalim into your chest. Also, the people who walk in on Kalim resting his head on your chest when you both are cuddling either in the Lounge area or basically anywhere. This man will cuddle you anywhere as long as you both are free.

Jamil Viper

It was also after winning a basketball game where you met him on the court and you pulled him into your chest while telling him that he did well. Bro froze while his teammates let out a few wolf-whistles and cheers. You pulled back and asked if he was alright, mainly because he looked a few seconds away from having a bloody nose.

After making sure that he got to Scarabia without any blood, he asked why you did that in front of all of his teammates, and that made you feel kind of bad. He saw your dejected face as you apologized and promised not to do it again, and he pulled you into his arms and said that it was alright and that he understood the excitement from winning the game. And he said that it was alright if you pulled him into a hug because then it goes to show that you are his and no one else’s.

So you spent the rest of the day cuddling in his room, of course after he showered because he was definitely very sweaty. He decided to initiate the physical affection, where he lays his head gently on your chest to kind of get used to it. Just give it time, and he won’t be flustered anymore and will be at a point where he won’t freeze up.

Epel Felmier

One thing he did not expect to happen after Spelldrive practice was you being there in the stands watching and cheering him on. Another thing he did not expect was to almost immediately be pulled into your chest. He tried pulling away because he knew that he was sweaty and he didn’t want you to feel dirty, but you just told him how proud you were of him and he absolutely melted.

His hometown raised him in a bit of tough love, and he himself wasn’t too affectionate of a person, but he didn’t mind your hugs. However, being pulled face-first into your chest was a completely different thing. You know how some relatives pull you into their chest? It was kind of like that. He caught your scent as he reciprocated the hug, and then he pulled away with a very flushed face.

You asked if he was alright, and he just nodded his head before saying that he needed to get to Pomefiore if he wanted to shower and escape from Vil so that he can spend some time with you. You pulled him by the arm in the direction of his dormitory, before you had to part in the Mirror Chamber so that you could prepare Ramshackle for your movie marathon.

[solarmorrigan]

May I request a thrupple for the angst quote prompt?

“Please I just… really need space right now.”

With ChissyxStevexEddie. If not the thrupple then a pair of your choice from those three characters.

Hello! I'm sorry, I didn't quite manage to work Chrissy into this one. Honestly, this particular fill argued with me so much I'm kind of glad I even got Eddie and Steve in there. I hope this is okay, anyway!

[post-S3 Steddie AU; CW: Deals with the aftermath of torture, heavily discusses non-consensual touching (not inherently sexual, not between Eddie and Steve), contains the theme of trying to help someone through trauma. This is very soft, though, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

The Steve Harrington who comes home to Eddie from the hospital on the fifth of July is not the same one who had kissed him goodbye before his shift at that shitty ice cream parlor two days prior.

He’s still Eddie’s Steve, of course he is, but he’s also – he’s withdrawn, and he’s jumpy, and he’s so, so hurt.

Eddie had seen the aftermath of that fight with Hargrove (who hadn’t? Though Eddie had even had the privilege of watching the last of the bruises fade from up close as he and Steve became friends), but this is worse. Eddie can’t articulate how at first, but it is.

At least back in November, Steve had been able to talk about how he’d gotten his injuries; this time, he has to hide behind some fucked up cover story – because bull-fucking-shit had he gotten hurt by falling debris in a freak mall fire.

Debris hadn’t left marks like fucking boot prints on Steve’s back and chest. It hadn’t bruised and rubbed his wrists red and raw. It hadn’t left the distinct shape of fingers in purple and blue, wrapped around his arms on both sides.

Eddie had tried exactly once to address this, when he’d first seen the extent of the damage hidden under Steve’s shirt. He’d tried to demand answers, tried to get out of Steve who had laid their fucking hands on him, but Steve had gone grey under his bruises and shook his head.

“It was a fire, Eddie. Nothing else. I need you to understand that,” Steve had said, more serious than Eddie had ever heard him, his one good eye wide with urgent anxiety – with something almost like fear. “It was just a fire.”

Eddie hasn’t brought it up again.

It makes him burn to know that someone had done this to Steve and that he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. It makes him want to scream, it makes him want to find whoever had been responsible and make them hurt, but more than anything–

More than anything, it terrifies him.

Because this Steve is different – his Steve is different now, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

It scares him to see Steve slinking around the trailer like it isn’t his home (more of a home than his parents’ house has ever been). It scares him when he forgets that Steve’s left is his bad side and that if he comes up on him too fast, he’ll startle the shit out of him. It scares him that Steve has a bad side. It scares him when he reaches for him, unthinkingly going for the contact that Steve has always been so hungry for, has been so comforted by in the past, and instead Steve flinches away.

Eddie has never really had to take care of someone else, and he feels like he’s fucking it up at every turn. He feels like he’s hurting Steve even more, that he’s no better than whoever did this to him, no better than Billy fucking Hargrove, no better than Steve’s parents; he’s afraid he’s going to ruin things, break Steve beyond repair, because he doesn’t know how to care for this new version of him.

The only thing that gives him hope that he isn’t doing too badly is the fact that Steve is staying. He still wants to be in Eddie’s company, still reaches out sometimes and tentatively slides his hand over Eddie’s while they’re watching TV together, still shares Eddie’s bed at night. He’s been stubbornly insisting that he’s fine, he’s fine, he just needs time to heal, but beyond a refusal to admit that anything is wrong, he still trusts Eddie to help when he’s not at his best.

Of course, no matter what he says, Steve isn’t actually fine, and even if that weren’t made apparent just by looking at him, it becomes abundantly clear when the lights go out and they lie down to sleep – when the nightmares hit.

Sometimes, they’re small things: quickened breath and inaudible murmuring, furrowed brows that eventually smooth out as Steve is released back into deeper, more peaceful sleep.

Sometimes, though, they’re loud and sharp and violent.

Sometimes, like tonight.

Steve is half twisted in the sheets, struggling in a way his broken ribs really can’t afford, arms flailing and jerking as he tries to fight something off, as he mutters no and stop and please. Eddie sort of wants to cry, thinking about what could be making Steve beg, but more than anything he wants to wake Steve up.

He shakes him by the shoulder, dodging the jerk of his arm, and hopes he can call louder than whatever’s going on in Steve’s head.

“Steve. Steve, c’mon, wake up,” Eddie shakes Steve again and Steve jerks away with a wounded noise. “It’s just a nightmare, baby, come on. Steve!”

Steve’s eyes snap open with a sharp gasp, like he’s been holding his breath, but his gaze is still hazy. He’s awake, but he isn’t present, and he immediately starts shoving at Eddie’s hands, trying to scoot away on the bed.

“No, no, get off– get off me!” he shouts, managing to make it as far as the edge of the bed before the tangle of the sheets holds him in place.

“Steve it’s– it’s just me, it’s Eddie, it was a nightmare, you’re–” as reassuring as Eddie is trying to be, he can’t help the distressed crack in his voice. “Baby, you’re safe, I fucking swear.”

Finally, Steve stops struggling. He lies against the mattress for a moment, breathing heavily, before he ventures a small, “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m right here,” Eddie promises.

He shuffles closer on his knees, reaching out for Steve, hoping to comfort or soothe or ground or something, but Steve flinches away, tossing up an arm to halt Eddie in his tracks with a quickly barked, “No.”

“Steve,” Eddie breathes out, and he doesn’t mean to sound so fucking broken, but he should be the one person Steve is never afraid of, and he’s fucking that up.

“I… Please, I just…” Steve stutters out, still catching his breath, trying to sit himself up against the wall that the head of the bed is pressed to, “…really need space right now. Just– just leave me alone for a while.”

And all at once, even if Eddie knows nothing else, he knows that isn’t right.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now, sweetheart.”

Steve, now propped up against the wall, lets his head hang with a heavy sigh. “Eddie…”

“No, look, I’m not–” Eddie scrambles off the bed and moves across the small room, until he’s got his back to the opposite wall. “I’m not gonna touch you, I’ll stay over here, you don’t even have to look at me, but I’m not going to leave you by yourself.”

Steve had never wanted to be left alone when things were bad before. When he was alone, his anxiety would consume him; without the anchor of another person, it would carry him away, and Eddie is certain the same thing will happen now if he leaves Steve to deal with the aftermath of his nightmare in solitude.

For a long moment, Steve stares at him, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears in the low light of the bedroom, but he eventually looks away again. He says nothing, just curling in on himself in a way that must be hell on his ribs as he leans back against the wall, and Eddie takes that as the best permission he’s going to get.

He slides down the wall and sits on the floor, his knees pulled up in front of him in a loose mirror of Steve’s position. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak, but he’s there, and he has to believe that’s worth something.

It startles him when, some thirty minutes in (probably the longest Eddie’s ever been able to sit in silence without something to occupy him), Steve speaks.

“I can still feel their hands on me.”

His voice is a quiet rasp, but the words hit Eddie like hailstones. He wants to ask who, he wants to demand what, but he knows if he says anything now, Steve will clam up, so Eddie keeps his mouth shut, and he waits.

“Even before they– before they started hitting me.” Steve isn’t looking at Eddie, instead addressing the wall, gaze distant and unblinking. “They grabbed me and… searched me, cuffed me, they kept – putting their hands on my face, grabbing my hair, and I couldn’t…”

Couldn’t stop them.

Eddie feels a little sick.

Steve is quiet for so long after that that Eddie begins to wonder if he should say something, but Steve breaks the silence before he has to figure out what.

“Out of everything, I don’t know why that… why that left the biggest impression, but I–” he breaks off, turning and finally looking at Eddie. “I want to feel you again, but any time someone touches me, I can only see them.”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s going to survive this. His heart is going to fucking break.

He needs to do something, he needs to help, and maybe he has no clue what he’s doing, but this is his Steve, and he has to try.

Slowly, Eddie levers himself up off the floor and moves towards the door, where he hits the switch for the overhead lights, making the entire room go bright.

Steve winces at the sudden change, turning a wary look on Eddie as he approaches the bed.

“Eddie, what…”

“Just– just trust me. Let me try,” Eddie says, soft and earnest, holding Steve’s gaze as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Please?”

It takes a long moment, but Steve gives a hesitant nod, and Eddie scoots closer. He leaves space between them, still, but he gets close enough that he could reach out and take Steve’s hands – which is exactly what he intends to do.

“Look at me,” Eddie says, quiet and firm. “Just look at me, nowhere else.”

Steve does as he’s told, and Eddie manages a smirk.

“Just pretend I’m the most interesting thing in the room,” he tries to tease. “Like there’s nothing else you’d ever wanna look at.”

“Don’t have to pretend,” Steve murmurs, eyes locked on Eddie’s face, and Eddie’s smile melts into something more genuine.

“There you are,” he says softly.

He reaches for Steve’s hands, and slowly, Steve unwraps them from where he’s been clutching firm around his legs, and lets Eddie touch him.

His hands are cold in spite of the summer heat that invades the trailer no matter how hard their crappy little air conditioner works, and they’re trembling slightly, but Steve doesn’t pull back. He stares right at Eddie and holds on.

Eddie brings one hand up, cradled in his own, and presses a gentle kiss to the knuckles. The bruises there have already faded (their presence had been the least distressing out of all the damage; Eddie likes knowing that Steve had at least gotten a few hits in), but he attends carefully to each knuckle, anyway. He kisses the back of Steve’s hand, feeling a little like a courtly lord from one of his own campaigns. Steve is starting to look at him like he might be one.

The bruises around Steve’s wrists are taking longer to heal; the damage is deeper, and the colors still paint livid rainbow circles on his skin (his face is going to take longer, still; Steve says the doctor told him he’d lucked out with a minor fracture to his orbital bone that will heal on its own with time. Eddie looks at the discoloration there and feels like he has some choice words for the doctor). Eddie moves his attention up, brushing his lips featherlight across the top of Steve’s wrist before turning his hand over and paying the same devotion to the underside.

“Eddie…” Steve breathes, and Eddie presses one last kiss to the palm of Steve’s hand.

“It’s me,” Eddie promises, bringing Steve’s other hand up now. “Watch me, sweetheart, it’s just me.”

He keeps eye contact as he lavishes Steve’s left hand with the same attention he’d given the right, and it occurs to him that he’s been inside the boy in front of him, but this is somehow the most intimate thing they’ve ever done.

Eddie doesn’t move beyond Steve’s wrists, doesn’t push any more than he already has, and Steve’s eyes are still on him by the time he finishes, wide and soft and glassy.

“Okay?” Eddie asks softly, dropping his hands to hold both of Steve’s in his lap.

Slowly, Steve nods. He looks away at last, turning his eyes to their joined hands, and tightens his fingers until he’s holding onto Eddie properly.

They sit like that for a long time, quiet and close, until Eddie can feel himself flagging and he can see Steve’s eyelids drooping.

“Let’s try to get some more sleep,” Eddie says around a stifled yawn. “You do need your beauty rest, after all.”

Steve laughs, a little huff of a thing, and casts a quick glance up at Eddie. “Can– can we leave the light on?” He rushes the words out, like he hates to even ask, but Eddie only nods.

“Whatever you need, Steve,” he promises – and he means it.

Maybe he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but he’s not going anywhere until he figures it out.

And when Steve settles down beside him in bed, and scooches just close enough that their arms are pressed together, Eddie figures maybe he’s not doing too badly, after all.

[darnell-la]

Hiii there! may I please request a Bellamy Blake mean and dark dom smut with !female grounder reader? An enemies to lovers thing with a lot of tension or anger and fighting m so they just give in and have hot steamy smut?💖 ty!

world count: 5,9K

pairing: Dom!Bellamy Blake x Grounder!Reader

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Hatred to love

Bellamy Blake’s pov

"This place is so shitty," I said as Murphy and I stepped through the overgrown woods. We've been here for let's say, 6 months, and I've never felt more used in my life. Now that the 100 of us helped the rest of the people on the ark, we can work to reduce our time away. 

To top off us being enslaved, we must deal with these people we call grounders. They’re violent and dirty, and think they own the place. 

“Better watch what you say before y/n hears you,” Murphy joked, making me scoff. Y/n’s the leader of these grounders and she’s a real pain in the ass. She’s always arguing and demanding things. They also protect her and do whatever she tells them to do. 

“Or what? Is she gonna stab me? We have guns and I don’t think they have treatment for that,” I said as Murphy shook his head. “I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She’s cool,” Murphy said. 

I rolled my eyes and stopped, annoyed that people kept saying the same thing to me. I don’t get what they see in her. She’s violent, dirty, and has the worst attitude you could possibly think of. 

“She’s not cool, she’s just some girl that thinks she has a say in everything,” I said. “First of all, that girl is 20, and second, she does have the day of everything. At least around here she does, and we choose to follow them since we landed in their territory,” Murphy said. 

“And if you have a problem with that, you can barge into wherever she lives, and argue with her. Hell, fight if you need. Anything to shut you up about her at this point,” he said. 

“Whatever man,” I said then kept walking, trying not to stay here all day and argue about how much I despise y/n. It just pisses me off how many people tolerate her. 

“You’re not gonna stop me, so save your talking,” I said to Murphy before pushing past him and a few other friends. I’ve had enough of y/n and her demands. 

I walked through the overgrown forest, stumbling over sticks and rocks, thinking about if fighting y/n is the best idea. 

She’s the best warrior they say and she shows absolutely no mercy. Even if I were to beat her, her people would kill me for making her surrender. I’ll have to get her alone. 

As I thought of things to do, I made my way through the forest until I was finally at the grounds of the grounders. They know me, so they let me in easily which was a big mistake. 

“Y/n?” I asked the guards of this small village y/n’s always at. They nodded their heads then turned around to walk towards, where I guess, y/n is. 

“Y/n!” One said as we walked upon y/n reading a book that my people gave to her, to little kids. They seemed happy and like they were having fun. I think this is my first time ever seeing her smile. 

“What did you come here for?” She asked. She always seems like she has a tone with me. Only me. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to walk and talk. Only for 10 minutes or so,” I lied. I have to get her away from the guards. 

“Now you know I can’t do that. They always follow me. Where ever I go,” y/n said as I sighed. “I know, but, maybe they’ll make an acceptance this one time. Please,” I begged as she tilted her head. 

Y/n got up and walked toward me and the guards. She said something in her language that I still haven’t learned yet, then walked passed me. “10 minutes,” she said. 

“So what did you actually bring me out here for?” Y/n asked as she finally stopped somewhere a bit far from the village. “I was thinking we could fight,” I said. 

“Fight?” She chuckled. “Pathetic,” she added. “What’s pathetic is that you need a whole army to fight for you,” I argued. “That’s just how we work,” she replied. 

“What do you wish to fight for?” She asked, making me smirk. “If I win, you stop this boss act and I get to show people that you’re not as strong as you make yourself to me,” I said. 

“And if I lose, you can keep your little act going and I’ll be very, very embarrassing,” I said as she rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh I wanted to slap away from her. 

“Bet,” she said, a new word that she got from our kind as she jumped off of the log she was standing on and attacked me. I was almost unprepared but moved out of the way fast enough and kicked her back. 

“Good reflexes. But not good enough,” she said as she turned and kicked my legs, causing me to fall to the ground. “Fuck,” I groaned then quickly rolled over as she was about to kick my face. 

“Fighting dirty, huh?” I asked as I got up. “Nah, just want to get this over with,” she said before running towards me. She’s always been an attacker which is hard to fight against since she always makes the first move. 

“Already tried?” She asked, looking down at me after giving me the worst blow to my stomach. I hate her but I won’t ever doubt again that she’s a good-ass fighter. “Nah,” I said, about to kick her legs to make her collapse but I heard a gunshot. 

I quickly looked around as I stayed on the floor, hoping to see anyone but I can’t. “Y/n, get down!” I yelled-whispered because she still standing like she was in shock. She can’t be in shock right now. 

“Y/n!” I yelled. She slowly looked down as her hands lifted up towards her stomach. “Did your people use their weapon on me?” She asked slowly as she pulled her hand away from her stomach showing blood. 

“Ah, shit!” I said as she dropped to the floor. “No, no, y/n, you have to get up! Y-You can’t be out here. Shit! Fuck, uh, fuck. Y/n, get up!” I said as I tried picking her up, but another shot was fired but don’t hit us thankfully. 

“Hood your fire dumb fucks! I made her fight me!” I yelled out so my people can stop this madness. They just fucked up our stay here. Her people will never forgive us for this. 

“Bellamy, am I dying?” She asked, sounding like she was about to pass out. “Shit! No, no, you’re not dying. Just- Just stay still and hold this down,” I said as I took my shirt off, and lifted her ripped-up shirt to press down on her wound so she won’t bleed out. 

“Guys, stop it! She needs medical assistance!” I yelled back as I saw her trying to break correctly and keep eye contact with me. She still seems fearless. How could I do this to her? What did I do?

“Don’t worry, she’ll get it,” an unfamiliar voice said. “But that won’t be needed for long,” they added. I looked around until my eyes landed on people in a has max suits and a dude without one. Everyone had a gun. 

“W-Who are you?” I asked as I kept trying to push down on her wound. “We’ll get to talking once we get what I need,” he said then snapped his fingers. That’s when the people started making their way towards us. Towards her. 

“What? No. No, back away! Back up!” I yelled but they didn’t listen. “No! No!” I yelled as two people pulled me away. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yelled, making the dude without a suit on, chuckling to himself. 

As one guy went to pick y/n up, she lifted her arm and stabbed the dude in his neck causing him to fall back and bleed out. 

“Get her now! We don’t have time for this!” The man said. That’s when a few people attacked her, taking her weapons and then dragging her away. They’re manhandling her while she’s screaming in pain. 

“No, no! Help! Help us!” I yelled, hoping one of her people followed us so they wouldn’t completely have no eyes on her but they actually trusted me. Fuck. I kept repeating my yells until something knocked me on the side of my head. 

“What is this shit!?” I yelled at the man as he threw y/n on her stomach, onto this medical chair and then strapped her down. They didn’t even patch up her wounds. She’s bleeding out and groaning in pain. 

“I can see you’re not too happy. I assumed because of how you guys fought, you didn’t like each other but I see otherwise now,” he said as one sergeant pulled out some big needle that I’ve never seen in my life. 

“What the- Hey! Hey, get away from her! What is that!?” I asked the man as he took a deep breath, about to tell me the most inhumane thing I’ve ever heard of. 

“That needle you see is what we use to subtract bone marrow from the grounders who’ve been able to breathe on earth for hundreds of years,” he said as he sat in front of me after a guard placed a chair down. 

“You see, my people can’t survive the outside but they can. People like you can too which is surprising,” he said. “We’ve been studying you guys and we finally got one of you which will help another few of my people,” he added. 

“What? You’re gonna- You’re gonna fucking- No, let me go! L-Let her go! I swear to god-“ I went to say but he cut me off. “What will you possibly do?” He asked then snapped his fingers. Seconds later, his guards took me away as I yelled and demanded them to let me go but they wouldn’t listen.

Maybe an hour went by since the guards threw me into this clean and well-kept-up room. I’ve been thinking of ways to kill this man and escape. We can’t stay here. 

As I was about to start my banging on the door that I’ve been doing every 10 minutes, the door swung open to two guards dragging y/n into the room by her arms. 

She looked dead. My heart skipped a beat until I noticed she was alive by her whimpers. They patched her up but her blood is still leaking through her bandage. 

“Here,” a third guest said as he walked through the doors and threw a medical bag at me. “Fix her up, would ya?” He said then walked out with the other two after they dropped y/n on the floor. 

“Shit, y/n?” I said as I grabbed the medical bag and sped over to her. “Mhm?” She asked as I began to work on her. First I cleaned her up while keeping a conversation with her so she won’t fall asleep. 

“I need you to keep talking to me, okay baby? Keep talking,” I said after watching her eyes get heavy. “Hurts,” she said right before slipping away and passing out. 

“Y/n? No, y/n, stay up!” I said as I fastened my process before she looses too much blood. I’d she dies, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I made her go out, far from her guards to fight her. 

I’ve always said that if I had the chance to kill her, I would but that’s a lie. Just a big fucking lie. I can’t do that to her. She’s one of the kindest, most responsible, and most thoughtful people I’ve met. I really fucked up…

“Guess I didn’t die,” I heard y/n say as she leaned up on the bed I laid her on. “Yeah, I guess,” I said as I quickly got up and walked to the side of the bed. “Hey, hey, chill out,” I said as I leaned her back to check her wound. 

“Why are you carrying for me? Didn’t you want to fight me? Maybe even kill me?” She asked after slapping my hand away from her. “Hey!” I slightly shouted as I grabbed her wrist. She tried tugging away but I tugged back to get her to stop. 

“Listen! You’re hurt and your people would probably kill me and think I shot you if they find your lifeless body bled out,” I said then pushed her wrist away and went back to slowly pull the big patch I placed on her. 

“It sent Straight through so that’s good. I didn’t know until I started patching you up. You’ll heal within a few months but it takes a good year to get back to your normal self,” I said. “A year!?” She yelled. 

“Chill, okay? I’ll take care of you and shit,” I said, making her laugh. “You? Take care of me? Yeah, it’s hard to feel comfortable around someone who got me in this situation!” She yelled at me. 

“I didn’t mean to get you shot! I just want to put you in your place and-“ I tried finishing. “Put me in my place? And what is that? Ruin what I and my people had going on for hundreds of years. We were doing good with and without you,” she said. 

“You need us,” I said as I leaned over her to intimidate her but she leaned up. I can tell that she was in pain but she kept a straight face because that’s who she is. She’s strong. That’s what I like about her…

“You don’t scare me, Mr. Blake, so don’t lean into my face and not do anything about-“She went to get aggressive but I cut her off by smashing my lips onto hers. She instantly stops talking. My eyes are shut but I can tell she’s looking at me with wide shocked eyes. 

I slowly lifted my hand up to place my hand on her cheek but she quickly gripped my wrist, stopping me. I kept my hand up, not giving up until she slowly let my wrist go, allowing me to place my hand on her face. 

Now she’s kissing me back and I can’t tell she’s probably never kissed anyone. She’s not bad or anything, but she’s flinching at new things I do like moving my tongue, she’s breathing heavily, and seems very needy. 

“You done being mad at me now?” I asked as she kept her lips on mine, kissing me in want. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said as she pulled my face into hers. I did. as told and pushed her down on the bed and hovered over her. 

Her small whines are the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. I love how needy, whiny, and sloppy she kisses me. How could I be so mean to someone like her? She’s perfect. 

Minutes into making out with her, I went to trace my hand down to her lower body but someone started punching in codes. I quickly got off of her as she quickly leaned up, snapping out of what we were doing. 

“Stay back,” I said as I got in front of the bed to cover her and defend her if they try grabbing and experimenting on her again until the door opened to Clarke. “Bell,” she said under her breath as she sped over to me and jumped into my arms. 

“I thought I lost you. We thought you ran away,” she said as I placed her down, not really comfortable with her wrapping her legs around me, right after I just got through making out with y/n.

“No, no, I was just out with y/n and then these people fucking-“ I went to say but she cut me off. “What were you doing with y/n alone? How did you even get her alone without her guards?” Clarke asked like she was upset. 

“That’s not the issue right now. The issue is, is that she got shot and they didn’t give her proper treatment,” I said as I walked over to y/n to show Clarke what I’m talking about. 

She walked over, seeming like she didn’t really care. “I tried my best but it’s not enough,” I said. “You touch her? Aren’t you like not allowed to? She barely had a shirt on,” Clarke said, focusing on the wrong things. 

“Well if I didn’t, she would have bled out, Clarke,” I said with a tone, pissed off that she’s so worried about how I’m taking care of y/n like me and her are dating. Clarke is just another girl to me. Nothing else. 

“Where’s the rest?” I asked Clarke so we could end this conversation that was going absolutely nowhere. “Making sure the guards don’t try attacking the people helping the people that are caged up,” she said. They caged people here? 

“They’ll explain to you. Let’s go,” she said, trying to pull me with her but I yanked my hand away. “We have to take y/n,” I said as I looked at her with a disappointed look. 

“She says she’s strong right? She can get up and get home herself,” Clarke said. “Nah, I think you can,” I said, causing Clarke’s eyes to widen. “You should go,” I said then began to help y/n get up. 

Clarke stormed out as I paid no mind to whatever she was fussing about. “You should have told me you had a partner,” y/n said. “She’s not,” I replied. “Doesn’t seem like it,” she said as she backed up from me. 

“I can walk myself,” she said then began walking. “Wait, y/n, it’s not what you think, okay? She’s into me. I’m not into her,” I explained. “But she still felt comfortable saying those things about me. You’re clearly showing her something,” she said as she limped out of the room. 

I stayed silent and still in the room, cussing myself out that I had something with Clarke. She just fucked up what I and y/n could have probably had. I should have known she’d be like this. 

Before I even pressed my lips onto hers, I thought about how all the women would feel about me and y/n being a thing. Clarke was the first to come to mind since she’s the more jealous type. The others have other people so they don’t need me.

SKIP SEVERAL MONTHS

3rd persons pov

It’s been months since y/n’s been shot and she’s doing pretty well. She still works out, trains, and talks to Bellamy but she never dares to speak about what happened between them in that room. 

She respected Clarke and Bellamy’s non-realistic relationship and Bellamy respect how angry she was at him. He understood how uncomfortable she could have felt in that situation once Clarke started acting a certain way toward her for no reason. 

Bellamy still tried to make small moves but it never really goes anywhere. They haven’t kissed each other since that day. The furthest it’s gone is touched around her clothing to ease her into him but she can’t forget how he made out with her and seconds later, Clarke came in like they’ve been dating for years. 

Today’s y/n’s birthday and Bellamy just found out that the grounders don’t celebrate birthdays since they use to lose track of times before the sky people came down. 

Bellamy is currently in y/n's room, decorating the place with old birthday decorations he found around the place. They had moved into the mountain men’s home after every one of them fled with suits to go someplace else, scared that the sky people and grounders would come after them for murder. 

“She’s back from hunting in a few minutes,” Murphy said as he walked into the room. “Good, and her guards won’t be sticking their noses around, right?” Bellamy asked. “Nope, so you’re good,” he said. 

“You really like her, huh? What happened?” He asked as he looked around the room, seeing how much work Bellamy put into it. bellamy was the one to even set up her furniture when they moved in a few months ago. 

“I don’t know. It’s like, right after she got shot, I noticed that I’d missed something about her a little too much,” Bellamy said as he sat down on y/n's bed and looked down at the ground. 

“I knew you didn’t hate her. It’s easy to tell,” Murphy said. “I read this book that was published back in 2023 and they said that people tend to get more annoyed about people that care about. That’s you to y/n,” Murphy said which is definitely true. 

“She’s here!” Monty and Jasper yelled through Murphy’s Walkie-Talkie. “Good luck and don’t be you please,” Murphy joked as he made his way out of the room. 

Bellamy chuckled as he got up and walked to the corner of her room so that y/n wouldn't see him when she first walks in. He wants to see her reaction. He loves watching her smile. 

“Why is my door open!?” Y/n yelled throughout the hallways. Dammit Murphy. “Hello?” Y/n asked before peaking around the corner to the surprise in her room. 

“Oh,” she said confused but slightly amazed. She’s never seen decorations like this before. “Who did this,” she said under he breathe as she took a step into her room with a smile on her face. Just what Bellamy wanted to see. He's never seen her smile this bright. 

“I knew you’d like it,” Bellamy said, making her jump a little. “Bellamy!” She shouted then covered her mouth. “You like it, right?” He asked as he slowly walked towards her. “Yes, I actually do,” she said. You could see her blushing. 

“Good, because it took me a couple of hours to find everything and put it up,” He smiled down at her. “Thank you,” she said as she began to scan the place and walk around. He can tell she really loves it. 

“You know, y/n. I’ve been thinking. A lot. I know we use to be enemies-“ Bellamy said but she cut me off. “You use to be mine. I never hated you but go on,” she joked. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” He chuckled. “But after that day in the room, I felt something. I’ve always felt it but it never came out until then. That’s the day I couldn’t force being angry at you or having some type of hatred towards you,” Bellamy said as she turned around and he walked towards her. 

“Y/n, I really like you and I’m sorry Clarke said those things about you but I don’t like her. I don’t see anything with her. But I do see something with you,” Bellamy said. He softly grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes. 

“So, could we please start over? Start something with each other?” I asked. “Bellamy…” she said as she pulled her hands back. “I can’t. You and Clarke have known each other for a while. I think she’s best for you,” she said. 

“But I don’t want her. I don’t feel anything for,” Bellamy said as y/n shook her head with a chuckle. “She still talks about you. She’s obsessed and loves you,” y/n said. 

“She doesn’t love me. She just hates the fact that I love you and now her. I’ve never loved her. I barely ever liked her,” Bellamy said making y/n shake her head. 

“Yeah, that’s not what she keeps saying. Apparently, you guys have been secretly dating for years and still sneak around at night in your room or go off somewhere where no one will see you,” y/n said, making Bellamy’s blood boil. 

“And who the fuck has she been saying this shit to?” Bellamy asked. “Me, Monty, Jasper, and maybe a few other girls,” Y/n said. “Well, that shit isn’t true. She just wants you away from me, that’s all,” Bellamy said, trying to softly grab y/n hands again but she backed up towards her bed. 

“Look, we can’t work out, okay? It’s not going to happen,” she said. “Why? Why can’t it work?” Bellamy asked with a tone, getting tired of excuses and other people getting in the way between him and her. 

“Because Bellamy! I don’t want you! You’re too different from me,” she said. “What are you talking about? No one who’s together is exactly the same, y/n,” Bellamy said as he stepped towards her. 

“You’re not for me, Bellamy so just- Just leave, Bellamy,” y/n said but he didn’t listen. “Y/n, you’re perfect for me. I love how different you are,” Bellamy said as he went to grab her waist slowly but she slapped his hands away, shocking him. 

Y/n walked passed Bellamy to get out of his face since he won’t get out of hers but he quickly grabbed her from the back and pulled her away from the door. 

“Let me go!” Y/n yelled at Bellamy. Bellamy threw y/n on the bed and then quickly ran over to her door, shutting and locking the door so that she’ll listen and stay where he wants her at. With him. 

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, annoyed that he can’t just leave her alone. Why does he fight so much for her? Why does someone like her so much? She’s not someone who’s likable like this. 

“I’m here to show you love, y/n. I fucking love you and you know that. That’s why you’re pushing me away. You think you’re gonna hurt me or some crazy shit but you’re not. What’s going to hurt me, is if you don’t accept me and love me back. I know you like my touch and presence,” Bellamy said as he made his way toward her. 

“No, no, no! No, Bellamy! I-l don’t love you! I don’t!” Y/n yelled at him as she rushed her hands through her hair and rubbed her face, stressed that this is happening. She can’t run like usual. He’s got her trapped. 

“Stop lying, y/n. It’s getting annoying and makes you look more pathetic,” Bellamy said, getting angry. “Pathetic!? You’re pathetic! You have to trap a woman in a room to force her to love you,” y/n said. 

“I don’t have to force shit, and you know that. You fucking know it, so stop lying!” Bellamy growled at her as he grabbed her wrist tightly. “I’m tired of you fucking lying and denying. Admit it. Admit it now!” He yelled in her face, shocking her. 

“No,” she firmly said, hating the dominance someone like him can show over her. She’s never felt any kind of dominance against her but from Bellamy. She can’t seem to function right with him talking to her like this. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded after letting her hand go, giving her a chance to listen. “No,” she said, once again with a tone, trying to stand her ground until Bellamy picked her up and threw her on her bed. 

Bellamy kept his silence as y/n began to yell at him. He didn’t care. He wanted to shut her for once and make her submit. He wants to get rid of the lies and excuses. 

“Bellamy, what are you doing!?” Y/n finally asked after noticing Bellamy’s shirt off. She’s never seen Bellamy with his shirt off. She’s seen his built-under wet clothes hut never more. This is a lot for her. 

“You like the clothes I gave you in a box? They’re perfect for you,” Bellamy said, making y/n think. Murphy, Monty, and Jasper said that they gave y/n the box so she’d have the best up-kept clothes since she’s the leader of her people. Now she’s finding out Bellamy chose them all. 

That explains the revealing parts, her panties, and bra that seemed a bit too pretty for Monty, Jasper, and especially Murphy to pick out for her. She knew they’d never do that. 

“Y-You picked these out?” She asked, knowing the answer already. “Of course I did. Otherwise, I’d have a talk with Murphy about what he picked out for you,” Bellamy smirked at y/n as he slowly climbed onto the bed. 

“Now will you finally let me taste you? I bet you’re sweet as a fresh berry,” Bellamy said as he tugged on y/n shorts. She tried slapping at his hands but she’s not really fighting him like she should be. 

“Look at that… You look so cute in these tiny little panties,” Bellamy said after getting her shorts off. She tried covering herself up but it was not enough. Bellamy laughed at her attempt as he began to pull her panties down, so focused on what he’s been dying to see. 

“Fuck, you’re wetter than I could’ve imagined,” he said under his breath. She had shaved today in the shower for the first time ever. She grew up thinking shaving wasn’t even a thing until Bellamy’s sister gave her something for her birthday. 

“No one’s ever touched you here, haven’t they? Tell me I’m the first, baby, and I’ll treat so you right. Better than your people. I’ll worship you more than anyone else can, baby,” Bellamy said, becoming full of lust by the second. 

“Bellamy, I can’t,” y/n has snapped out of what felt like a dream, angering Bellamy. “I’m tired of this shit,” he said as he quickly parted y/n’s legs and dived in without warning, lapping his tongue around her floss and clit faster than she could blink. 

“Bellamy!” Y/n moaned loudly at the foreigner feeling. She’s never touched herself in any type of way down there so everything she’s feeling feels too great for her. She’s too sensitive. 

“P-Please, Bellamy! Oh my!” She cried out, feeling her nerves hit her and her clit swell up. Bellamy began to suck any and everything he could reach. She grew wet, only making Bellamy eat her out sloppier. 

“I-I-I can’t Bellamy! I can’t!” She kept crying and shaking as she felt her stomach tighten. She’s never felt this before. She thinks she’s about to pee on Bellamy’s face but Bellamy knows he’s about to take the sweetest thing he could possibly taste. 

“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Bellamy said, and right after, y/n released all over his mouth and chest as she shook and rolled her eyes back. The moan she let out felt like music to Bellamy’s ears. He’s never heard of anyone so beautiful before. 

Bellamy backed away and hovered over y/n watching her eyes shut and her body shiver from the new feeling she just received.  

Bellamy began to take his jeans off as y/n lay there a whining mess, not being able to shake off the orgasm she just had. 

“Work with me and I’ll go slow. Resist and I’ll put you in your place, princess,” Bellamy said as she slowly moved in between y/n’s legs, triggering her kind as she felt his bare skin. Her eyes widen in shock at his size. 

“B-Bellamy, what are you doing? What is this? What is that?” Y/n asked, feeling a bit scared even though she knows Bellamy would never hurt her in any kind of way. 

“It’s yours, princess, and the only right thing to do with it is to get to know it and soak it with your heavenly sent sweet juice,” Bellamy said as he brushed his tip against her entrance to watch her jump a little. 

“Let’s see who’ll win this fight,” Bellamy said right before pushing balls deep into her cunt as she screamed and scratched at his chest and abs, feeling the pain but pleasure. 

“N-No, this is too much!” She whined as she tried pushing away from Bellamy but he’s not waiting any longer. Bellamy gripped y/n’s neck, placed his hand next to her ok the bed to keep himself up, and began to thrust. 

“Bellamy, Bellamy! Fuck, please! Please, Bell,” y/n moaned loudly, surprised at her language and the nickname she called him. “What’s wrong baby? You can finally not take something?” He laughed in her face. 

“You’ve been stabbed, shot, thrown off of hills I heard and you can’t take a cock?” Bellamy teased as he sped his thrust. “You can’t take a simple fucking cock, but you can take all of this other shit!?” He shouted at her. 

“You’re so pathetic,” growled in her face as her eyes rolled back and her moans got trapped by his tighter grip around her neck. “And you’re about to cum? Didn’t know you were a little slut to degrading, with the title you hold,” Bellamy chuckled as she squeezed his cock. 

“I-I’m not,” she whined, which broke into a moan as she came around Bellamy’s thick cock. “Fuck, yes. Cum on my fucking cock and I might treat you better when I fuck your little body,” Bellamy grinned down at her. 

“Bellamy,” y/n moaned as she softly grabbed his face and fucked up onto him. Oh, you’re horny? You like it, huh?” Bellamy asked, very surprised that she’s feel comfy with this so fast. 

“Y-Yes, I like it,” she whined. Y/n tried pushing Bellamy to the side but he was too strong. He watched her struggle until he let her overpower him and climb onto him. 

“Oh, shit,” Bellamy said shocked as y/n grabbed his cock and lined herself up to her own entrance until she dropped down on him with a loud moan. “Fuuuucck!” Bellamy bucked his knees. 

“So sexy,” Bellamy growled as he pulled y/n’s shirt and bra off. “Ride me, baby,” Bellamy said. Y/n didn’t waste any time to start. The moans leaving her mouth were nonstop. Her rhythm is as well. 

“You ride so good baby. All of that adrenaline in this sexy little body, coming to life,” Bellamy wrapped his large hands around her waist to help her. He gave her ass some smacks here and there, only making her sex drive higher. 

“Never knew your tits were so beautiful,” Bellamy grabbed one for a few seconds then began to pinch her nipple to give y/n a better feeling. “Bell,” she moaned as she leaned down in his face. 

“Right there,” he said, feeling his orgasm right around the corner. She stuffed his mouth with y/n’s free nipple and began sucking, only having her cum for the 3rd time with a wilder shake. 

She still tried to ride him but soon stopped as Bellamy held her down with one of his hands on her waist. Bellamy groaned loudly as he released a big load into y/n. He’s never shaken before. But this time it felt too good to hold still. 

Both pulled each other closer together as they rode out their orgasm together.

After cleaning each other up and talking about what the two should do further, they decided to officially be something. 

Y/n had to explain to Bellamy that if she were to date someone, within a month, they’ll have to do a traditional marriage because of her title of the leader. 

Bellamy couldn’t have had better news said to him. It was one thing for him to be her boyfriend but officially making her his is something he thought he’d have to wait years for. No, he doesn’t. 

Y/n and Bellamy lived life to be the best couple anyone could have imagined. They’ve grown both of their people closer and helped generations of people understand that no one is truly your enemy unless you make them out to be. 

[koolades-world]

one of my besties had me watch the madison beer mv of make you mine and it's actually such a good song. i love that the entire thing is jennifer's body themed. you know it's bad when i think of fictional characters while i listen to the song haha. sorry if mephi's dialogue seems a little ooc, not super familiar with his speech patterns yet

i'm really bad at giving things titles as you can see haha. highly recommend giving it a listen or listening while you read this <3

also i just learnt mephisto has an undercut? it's actually black so is purple not his natural hair color? he'd look really pretty with black hair but part of me wonders if he dyed it purple to look different from lucifer

anyways sorry this is so late! got busy hanging out with friends and the thing i had originally wanted to post wasn't ready, and i just really wanted to post this haha. enjoy :)

make u mine (mephisto x reader)

Mephisto had never meant to end up in such a compromising situation with the human exchange student, of all people. Not that it being anyone else would have made it better, but at least You looked absolutely ravishing in your party wear, and despite everything in him telling him to look away, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you. Had you placed a spell on him?

It all started with a few words overheard in a conversation between Diavolo and Lucifer. Of course, he hadn't meant to overhear what they were saying on purpose. He could thank the journalist inside him unconsciously picking up on many side conversations at the same time, and that one in particular happened to catch his interest. Listening to Mammon and Asmo talk about the latest party they were going to could wait. His attention was fully captured when he heard the phrase "exchange program." That phrase always meant a scoop was just around the bend.

He had no clue that this "scoop" would slowly consume every waking moment he occupied.

Once the time came that for the program to start, he didn't expect to be greeted with two very different humans. One was a powerful sorcerer he knew rather well, from a distance of course, and the other was a seeming nobody. He thought it was odd, but he wanted to interview you nonetheless to get your thoughts on the program. He was interested in learning about you. It started as the beginnings of an article he knew would perform well, and morphed into personal curiosity.

Getting you alone proved difficult. One of those pesky brothers was always with you, and they seemed very insistent on keeping you two apart. They must've received some kind of instruction from Lucifer, as even Satan seemed intent on staying between the two of you. He had been sitting the the RAD newspaper room, alone, pondering over this exact dilemma, when his problem resolved itself when you came barreling the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

"Hey." You were out of breath. Your hair was a mess and a half smile on your face. Your back was pressed to the door. The moment he made eye contact with you was a moment he couldn't quite put words to, despite being excellent at that. He found it hard to look away from you.

He was speechless at first at the crazy coincidence, as if his thoughts had summoned you. "Ehem. How may I help you?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Will you do me a tinsy little favor and hide me? Pretty please?" The way you batted your eyelashes at him made his heart immediately cave to your demands, but he knew he had a reputation to uphold.

"Will you agree to do an interview with me if I do?" He spun the question around on you. He had wanted to ask anyways. He wasn't one to pass up an opportunity presented to him on a silver platter.

"Deal. Quick, Lucifer probably wasn't far behind me." You rushed towards him, taking his hand. This shook him for the second time in less than a minute. Hurriedly, he shoved you behind the printing press that occupied one side of the room and turned it on to cover up any noise you might make. No sooner than he had done this, Lucifer threw the door open.

"Didn't you hear me knocking?" The demon looked just out of sort as you had, but angry rather than amused like you were. He hadn't seen anyone get such a rise out of Lucifer in a while. He was interested in hearing your story. Lucifer's eyes scanned the room in search of you, but only grew more irate upon finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"No. I'm busy." Mephisto turned his back to Lucifer to conceal his growing grin.

"Mc isn't in here, are they?" Lucifer remained in the doorway.

"What do you think? This a writing sanctuary, not a daycare." Mephisto picked up one of the papers printed, pretending to look busy. Lucifer huffed, annoyed.

"Watch yourself, cocky journalist." With that, Lucifer spun around and left the room. He left the door slightly ajar, making Mephisto the most annoyed he'd been during that entire interaction. After pushing the door shut, he called out to you.

"He's gone. You have quite the story to tell, hmm?" He grabbed his notepad and pen, beckoning you to take a seat on the couch beside him.

"Turn off the noisemaker, then we can talk." You sat beside him after coming out of hiding. With a playful sigh, he got back up to shut it off so he could really begin to talk to you.

That was his first real conversation with you without one of the brothers present, and he suddenly understood their desire to keep you to themselves. Thankfully, after that day, he had his foot in the door and you were more than happy to speak to him despite the brother's protests. The scowl on Lucifer's face from over your shoulder as you happily chatted with him was worth the world to him because Mephisto knew that Lucifer wouldn't try anything; not with you with your hands all over him, anyways. He adored being the center of your attention despite the fact that several brothers were watching closely. You often slipped away from the brothers and escaped to the room you knew he'd be in. He didn't know if what you were doing was intentional or not, but he began to grow conditioned to seeing you laid out on the plush sofa by his desk, or parked on the desk itself, waiting for him with a smile and open arms. It got to the point where he was certain he saw more of you that any of the brothers did.

He was unsure about how to feel, but he welcomed you into his life readily. It became more than just being with you to make Lucifer mad. It became being with you just to be with you, because he enjoyed your company. However, he always felt as if he left something to be desired when he thought about you. You always left his heart aflutter with your touches, even though he wanted to assume it was just how you behaved normally.

A hand on his shoulder, a hand on his arm, a hand on his. Sometimes, a hand on his waist, fingers looped through his belt loops. A hand on his chest, playing with his tie. A hand on his face, thumbs gliding over his cheeks. A hand on his thigh, hidden under the table.

They all drove him insane.

It was then he realized he harbored some sort of feelings for the human who'd initially started as just the topic of an article he was writing. He craved your attention and wanted to be as close to you as possible. He knew that went past what he'd initially thought about himself. While you were simply a human, you were a human who'd managed to capture the affections of the seven demon lords, and beyond.

A party at his place was what finally unraveled everything. Despite it being his party and therefore, the center of attention, he was only interested in one person. He knew you'd gotten ready in his bedroom as an effort to prevent the brothers from stopping you from going. They, of course, weren't invited, but he wouldn't be surprised if they showed up always once they realized where you were. He knew at this point, he should just give you your own room. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He had many empty bedrooms and could easily make one into yours, but he loved sharing his space with you. Something inside him loved seeing your things intermingled with his, and he didn't want to part with that.

But, he hadn't seen you since he went downstairs to begin greeting guests. His eyes scanned the room, searching for you. He thought he saw the flash of a familiar blond head of hair, but he swept past that. His gaze soon settled on the person he was looking for: you. You were chatting with another guest, but as soon as you noticed his stare, you excused yourself from the conversation to make your way over to him. He began to think about you, and how much happier he'd be once you were by his side. He greeted you enthusatically and told you how amazing you looked. You naturally slotted into his side, hands on his shoulders.

In his haze, he failed to notice someone behind him. They bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink all over you. He quickly turned to reprimand them, and to catch their face, but they had vanished into the crowd before he could. Mephisto clenched his fists, but there was nothing he could do. The perpetrator had been swallowed by the evermoving crowd of people. Instead, he went back to you, and decided to help you get cleaned up. You seemed nonchalant about the entire situation, and were happy holding his hand as he dragged you up the stairs to his room.

"Mephi, there's no need to be so worked up. It's a simple fix. If the stain doesn't come out, it was only twenty bucks anways." You kept pace with him.

"It's a matter of dignity. Whoever that was embarrassed me, and now I look like a total moron." He couldn't look at you. His face was most certainly red.

"Not to me you don't." Those words quelled the inner calamity he had a little.

"Well, either way, the stain will set in if we don't do something about it now." He pulled you into his room and locked the door behind you. The last thing he wanted was some nosy demon wandering in after the two of you. If you didn't care what they thought, why should he? But, he didn't want his time with you to be interrupted.

He peered into his closet for something for you to wear. Usually, you had clothes here, hung up, something he was rather proud of, but everything but a couple R.A.D. uniforms were gone. Earlier that day, he'd instructed his staff to wash all your laundry, clean or not, with a new detergent that the both of you quickly fell in love with at the store. It had become both of yours, in a way, and he went feral over the idea of the brothers constantly being reminded of him even when he wasn't around through you.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" He leant out of his closet to yell to you.

"Depends. Anyone important down there?" You responded through the shut bathroom door.

"Not really. Lord Diavolo couldn't make it tonight." He already knew what you were going to say in responce.

"Then we can just get ready for bed. My RAD bag is in here somewhere, so I don't technically have to go home. If you'll let me stay, that is." He heard you laugh through the door. He chortled to himself at that too. You didn't even need to ask anymore. You slept in his bed with him, for crying out loud. You even had your own D.D.D. charger for his house at his side table, right next to his.

"Are you alright with wearing my pajamas to bed? Yours are in the wash." He riffled through his wardrobe to find a very nice pair for you. He eventually settled on one of his sets of black silk pajamas. He wasn't sure if the pants would fit you, but at least you'd have a shirt.

"You know me." You extended your hand through the cracked bathroom door, to which he tossed the clothes into your open hand. You caught them, and snapped the door shut again to put them on. "Mephi, the pants are a little big." He heard you say through the door. Just as he thought. He'd never actually seen you in a set of his clothes before, so he silently prepared himself to feast his eyes. Despite this, he was not ready for you when you stepped in from the bathroom. The blank pants were draped over your arms, and the black button up top fell to your mid thigh. "Just hang these back up. No use in trying that." You put them back into his hands, and threw yourself down onto his bed. He did as you asked, and sat next to you.

"Are your other clothes still in the bathroom?" He studied your side profile.

"Yeah, on the counter." You answered his questions.

"I'll be right back. I'll give those to one of my staff, who'll get the stain out and get it looking brand new." He moved to get back up, but was stopped by your hand reaching out to him.

"Not yet. Let me enjoy a little time with you first." You whined. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll be quick." He moved to get up again, but this time, you got up before him and pushed him back down onto the bed. You straddled him, hands on both of his shoulders, pressing him into his bed.

"You've got no choice now." You triumphally smirked down at him. He knew he could easily get up, but he knew he wouldn't. You knew that too.

"Mc..." He was rather amused, but he couldn't stop from thinking about his feelings for you. Most of his confidence went out the window with that thought.

"I win." With that, you draped yourself over him fully, and Mephisto basked in your attention. As he thought more, while he really didn't want to, his heart told him now would be a great time to tell you how he felt. With the thought of now or never echoing in his brain, he opened his mouth again.

"Mc, I have a confession." He was nervous, more than he'd ever been. But, he was too deep in now to back out.

"Hmm?" You didn't sit up, and remained with your head on his chest.

"I think I'm in love with you." For someone usually so eloquent with his words, these were raw. Thankfully, they seemed to strike a chord with you. You perked up. He studied your face closely for any sort of negative reaction, but none came.

"Can I kiss you?" He was almost stunned by your reciprocation. He wasn't quite sure exactly how you felt yet, but that could wait until after his kiss.

"You may." Spilling that drink on you may have been the second best choice he ever made, the first being deciding to write about you to begin with. He was one lucky demon.

(end was a little rushed cause i'm sleepy haha)

[famwhy]

I can’t get enough of the Yandere Dazai content like this is at least the 5th time I’ve read Realisation and Pt2 Headcanons 😍😍😍

Can you imagine Kunikida seeing the relationship and being too nervous to strangle or confront Dazai over it? Or Ranpo knowing and dropping hints to the others to try and get Dazai to back off a bit? Like

Ranpo: hey Yosano, don’t you think Y/N is better with _______ than Dazai?

Yosano: *agrees in protective aunt figure

Dazai: *realizes what’s going on and tries stopping it without Y/N noticing

Haha, thanks so much for the support you give me ❤

I really love this ask, it gave me instant inspo.

I also ended up spending a little too much time on Ranpo. Oops. He's my favourite, I can't help it.

(These headcanons are related to this post.)

♧ When you and Dazai first arrived to the ADA, you were a total mystery to all the members.

♧ The only thing they knew about you two was that Dazai was your mentor before joining them.

♧ Well, that's all everyone but Ranpo and the Director knew.

♧ The Director had to know of your past to give you approval to join the agency in the first place, so that was a given.

♧ Ranpo though?

♧ Well, he knew at first glance of course.

♧ He was (no, is) the greatest detective known to man, after all.

♧ He also knew about your little relationship with Dazai...

♧ It was... a cause for concern, to say the least.

♧ However, the detective decided to give Dazai a chance to redeem himself, he had turned over a new leaf after all...

♧ ...except that- no; no he didn't turn over a new leaf.

♧ He continued being forceful with you, feeding you with so much unwanted affection that you would burst from the seems.

♧ He, by no means, made it obscure that he had some sort of relationship with you that didn't lean towards platonic.

♧ How else was he supposed to lay claim on you with such a new threat to his place?

♧ You see, the Agency members slowly grew more fond of you as time went by.

♧ You would always help Kunikida with organising his schedules whenever Dazai ruined them again.

♧ You would go on a supply run for medications Yosano asked you to get and sweets Ranpo desired almost 24/7.

♧ You would also go out with the siblings and Kenji whenever you found the time to.

♧ A total sweetheart.

♧ Unfortunately for Dazai, that meant many inconveniences.

♧ Unlike the Port Mafia members, the ADA members don't know how to mind their own business.

♧ Ranpo was always tugging on you whenever you had some alone time with the brown-haired male, demanding you for your attention and even going as far as to ask for cuddles.

♧ Cuddles!

♧ Who the hell does he think he is?! Your boyfriend?!

♧ HE'S NOT!

♧ DAZAI IS!

♧ And damn does it boil his blood when that stupid man-child goes up to his equally-as-stupid best friend and asks her that same damn stupid question.

♧ "Hey Yosano, wouldn't Y/N make a better match with me than Dazai?"

♧ Like hell you would!

♧ It's so goddamn annoying not being able to strangle members of your Agency.

♧ Don't even get him started on that dumb doctor.

♧ Always narrowing her eyes at him when you were nearby, watching him like a hawk and having the audacity to call it being protective over you.

♧ Now, Ranpo noticed the little tics that would overcome Dazai whenever things like these would happen.

♧ The way his teeth would grit when you were approached for a conversation longer than 2 seconds.

♧ The way he would bite the back of his pen in agitation when you would offer to help someone that wasn't him out.

♧ They way he would casually wrap an arm around your waist when someone even thought of tapping you on the shoulder.

♧ It was very concerning behaviour.

♧ As someone with a strong moral compass, he couldn't just sit by and do nothing.

♧ He also couldn't necessarily challenge Dazai face-to-face.

♧ While the ex-mafia member may not have been as smart as him, he certainly beat him in terms of athletic prowess.

♧ Ranpo had to go about this smartly.

♧ Luckily enough, 'smart' was his middle name.

♧ Unluckily though, Dazai wasn't exactly an idiot.

♧ He knew Ranpo was provoking him and trying to get him to lash out so the Director could get him locked up.

♧ He knew.

♧ So he kept quiet.

♧ After all, actions speak louder than words.

♧ All he needed to do was a bit of a tug on your arm towards him and you, being the good girl he trained you to be, instantly returned to him.

♧ All the while, being completely oblivious to what was going on around you.

♧ As always intended.

[the-smut-analyst]

Making Characters That Make Sense

Walk-through character template & "how to" guide for writing complex, original protagonists.

If you google "character templates for writing", you'll get a lot of very basic examples that read like a grocery list: eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, positive traits, negative traits, etc.

And sure, filling out this kind of template isn't completely useless - but it's also not particularly useful, either. Choosing whether your protagonist has blue eyes or green eyes isn't going to determine whether readers connect with them or not.

Instead, I prefer to use the below template:

There's some fairly left-of-centre categories here, so in this blog post I'll be creating a character from scratch to demonstrate what each section means and how to use the template effectively.

Primary Goal & Raison D'Être

Fantasy Romance is having a bit of a tournament-to-the-death moment right now, with Hunger Games-inspired stories like Fourth Wing, Throne of Glass, The Savior's Champion, and The Serpent and the Wings of Night in high demand - so that's what we're going to work with in today's blog post.

The story premise and primary goal of the protagonist are almost always interconnected. In this case, the story premise is a tournament to the death - and the character's main goal is to win that tournament, obviously.

But where there's room for some originality is in the raison d'être. This loosely translates to "reason for being" or "purpose". It's the why of it.

For example: what motivated this character to risk their life by entering such a tournament in the first place?

It is sometimes helpful to look at similar stories when thinking about this category. Not so you can copy their protagonist's motivations - but so you can do something different.

The whole selfless-self-sacrifice thing, for example - that's done. At least in relation to this particular sub-genre. We can do better for our hypothetical Maera Mystfang character.

Actually, let's really turn the trope on its head and make her raison d'être incredibly self-centred.

Already, this is character is shaping up to be something a little bit different within the niche of tournaments to the death. Which goes to show how putting a little bit of thought can go a long way, even with something as simple as identifying your character's initial purpose.

Primary Obstacle

Every protagonist needs a goal - and every goal needs an obstacle. This is what gives the story some tension and keeps readers turning the page.

An obvious choice of obstacle for this hypothetical character, since we're dealing with a fantasy romance, would be that Maera starts to develop feelings for one of her fellow competitors.

This concept has definitely been done, but that's okay. Not every section of this list has to break the mould. Tropes exist for a reason and it is totally okay to lean into them sometimes.

However, just for funsies, I'm going to try and put a slightly different spin on this one too.

Instead of the obvious "I love one of the people I'm meant to kill", let's make Maera's (previously dormant) conscience be the problem. Her reasons for entering the tournament may have been self-motivated, but as she gets to know her fellow competitors - admires some of them, even - she starts to second guess those reasons.

Core Traits

A lot of character templates will divide personality traits into positives and negatives - but I don't think this is particularly helpful. It is far too one dimensional - not to mention unrealistic. The key components of someone's personality aren't usually so black and white.

In fact, most core traits are both good and bad at the same time - it just depends on the context.

Instead of being wholly positive or negative, try to think of three core character traits that can serve as two sides of the same coin, with both positive and negative implications to each.

For Maera, I've given her these core traits:

Self-reliant;

Rebellious; and

Good-humoured.

Her self-reliance means that she is incredibly capable - but it's also the cause of her selfishness. She's always had to look after herself, so she expects others to do the same.

Her rebellious attitude means she isn't willing to accept the status quo. But at times she is also a rebel without a cause, causing trouble just for the fun of it.

Her good sense of humour means she is fun to be around, but she also tends to not take things as seriously as she should.

Thinking of core traits in this multi-faceted way not only adds realistic complexity, but it also sets you up well for showcasing character development and growth throughout the story.

Fatal Flaw & Character Arc / Growth

You've probably read negative reviews that throw around terms like "Mary Sue" or "Gary Stu". People tend to be over-zealous with these terms, especially for Mary Sue, but the gist of it is that the character in question is "too perfect".

They're the chosen one, they're good at everything, all the boys like them, etc.

Some characters can get away with this just fine. Look at Aragorn. He's the ultimate Gary Stu but I still swoon every time he opens those damn doors. You know the scene I'm talking about.

Ooft.

But for the most part, you want to incorporate a fatal flaw into your protagonists - because this is what gives them room to grow.

And, no. "I was born to be King but I don't wanna" does not count as a fatal flaw.

Instead, think bigger. Think worse. Think about where your character starts versus where you want them to end up. Think about how you want the events of the narrative to change their world view - or even their initial goal.

For Maera, her fatal flaw is pretty obvious, given her initial motivations for entering the tournament. Similarly, her growth/arc is linked to her primary obstacle, which is developing a conscious.

Her journey throughout this hypothetical story might be learning to appreciate how her past shaped her, while also acknowledging that there are things she can do to ensure others don't have to go through what she did. By being shown acts of kindness, she learns to appreciate their value.

First Impression

Now that we've covered all the "big picture" stuff, let's get into some of the smaller details that give your character some texture.

The first impression category is a hypothetical exercise where you image how your character might appear to a room full of strangers. In dual, multi, or omniscient POVs, you might even get the opportunity to include this impression somewhere in the story.

But even for first-person narratives, it is still worth thinking about, because it will help to inform how other characters interact and respond to your protagonist (at least at first).

For Maera, I've written this first impression as: a fun person to have a few drinks with - so long as you keep a close eye on your wallet.

From this description, we can guess that Maera probably likes to have a good time, but also comes across as untrustworthy. Whether that impression is deserved or not is up to you, as the author, to decide.

There's also a lot of deeper directions you can take this first impression category, too. Like if most people react to Maera this way, but one particular character doesn't, then your readers are going to sit up and pay extra attention during that interaction. Especially when that person reacting atypically is the future love interest.

Spirit Animal

Ah, this one is a fun one!

I always encourage my authors to assign a "spirit animal" to their characters - especially when they're doing multi-POV.

There are two main reasons for this:

It will allow you to assign some very distinct adjectives and verbs with that particular character; and

It is an opportunity to flesh out some additional character traits beyond the core traits.

For Maera, I've chosen "spider" because she is solitary by nature, opportunistic, and patient.

But, more than that, I also like the idea of Maera being the kind of person who knows how to watch and wait. While her first impression might be "here for the good times", her joking façade is actually a mask she wears while carefully observing others.

For example:

Her words were laced with venom. She crawled her way across the rooftop. At some point, weaving lies had become more of a past time that a necessity. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. She didn't bother to conceal her predatory gaze. Inch by cautious inch, she crept forward. Her sanity was already hanging by a thread. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was spin a good story - truth be damned.

I've never outright compared Maera to a spider in these examples, nor have I made it blatantly obvious that that's what I'm doing. But by peppering these kinds or words throughout the story, I'll be able to subtly create a very distinct kind of impression for her character.

For comparison's sake, let's assign "cat" to the love interest. Examples of possible words to consider in this instance might be:

He clawed his way through the bushes. "What are you doing?" he hissed. The comment had some bite to it, that was for sure. He slunk away into the darkness. His still, unwavering focus was unnerving. He prowled towards her. In a few quick, agile steps, he'd made it across the parapet. He yawned and stretched out beside her.

Of course, not every single word you use in association with a character needs to be related to their spirit animal. But keeping a certain type of animal in mind - and finding opportunities to throw in some subtle messaging through language choice - can be beneficial on so many levels.

It helps to distinguish your characters from one another through the kind of language you use to describe them - but it's also just really, really fun way to add some bonus texture to your characters. Giving your readers some little easter eggs like this is never a bad thing.

Love Language

If you're unfamiliar with the concept of the five basic love languages, then here's a quick visual overview:

Love languages aren't a consideration that's specific to romance. They're important for friendships and familial relationships too.

Because thinking about what your protagonist values most in love is going to tell you a lot about who they are. Especially when you take the question deeper and think about why this is something they value.

For Maera, I've chosen "Acts of Service" because this ties in quite well to her character arc.

In terms of Maera's why, I could easily go with "because this was how she was shown love as a child" - and this is a good enough option most of the time. However, since her love language is very much tied into growing out of her fatal flaw, then I actually want to do the opposite.

Maera winds up valuing acts of service because this is something she craved - and wasn't given - as a child. She had to do things the hard way instead. Hence why she ends up appreciating the kindness of others so much. Such generosity is new to her - and precious.

Conflict Response

This is potentially one of the most overlooked character components. Conflict and tension is central to story telling, yet there is so little attention given to creating authentic, original responses to conflict.

The way I see it, there are three main considerations in regards to conflict response:

How your character reacts in the moment;

The unhealthy methods they use to deal with the aftermath; and

The healthy methods they use (or discover) to self-sooth.

When faced with conflict, Maera's immediate reaction is to antagonise. She doesn't like to back down and enjoys creating trouble.

However, in the aftermath, the conflict affects her more than she lets on. She stews on it - and her solution to that is to get drunk until she can forget about it completely.

But even though she sometimes forgets it, Maera has a more healthy coping mechanism at her disposal. When she is surrounded by nature - in the forest, by the sea, whatever - it calms her.

In addition to identifying your protagonist's various responses to conflict, it is also helpful to think about why. Again, this is a great opportunity to insert something unique into their character backstory.

With Maera, for example, let's think about why she finds nature so soothing. Perhaps, amidst a very bleak childhood, one of her fondest memories is of picking grapes in a vineyard.

Perhaps the elderly woman who owned the vineyard was very rude and abrupt - but also quite kind to Maera in her own way. Maybe she would sometimes stitch up Maera's clothes or feed Maera a hearty, meaty dinner - even though she didn't have to.

If you're struggling to think of a real, tangible, unique memory such as this - then it's always helpful to go back to the old classic of write what you know. Think of a real life moment or memory - something that's stuck with you, no matter how simple - then adapt it to your character.

To create this vineyard example, I simply drew on my experience of picking strawberries with my Nonna after school.

Mentor / Idol

I could write an entire thesis on mentors. Or, more specifically, the "death of the mentor" trope - both in its literal and metaphorical interpretations.

But, for the sake of brevity, let's save that sh*t for another time and focus on what's important for a basic (yet complex) character template. And that is:

The Formative Mentor (past); and

Transformative Mentor (present).

The formative mentor (or idol) is someone who influenced your character prior to the events of the novel. Sometimes they're a character the reader will meet, or other times, they're long gone before the novel even begins.

The transformative mentor is a much looser term. It doesn't necessarily have to be a traditional mentor character, but rather it is a character who heavily influences or changes your protagonist throughout the events of the novel.

For Maera, I want her earliest idol to be a random female sell-sword who she crossed paths with. Prior to meeting this sell-sword, Maera was living without hope for a future, surviving on scraps and petty crime.

But after seeing an independent and moderately wealthy sell-sword in her local tavern, Maera got a glimpse into the kind of life that might be possible if she learned to fight. With the right kind of skills, she might be able to earn some decent money for a change - and travel the world.

This is an example of how "mentors" don't always have to be a wise wizard who oversees your protagonist's training and education. Young minds are impressionable - and even distant figures can have a lasting impact.

Just look at all the women who cite Legally Blonde as the reason why they were drawn to law. Elle Woods wasn't even real - but for plenty of young girls, she made an impact.

Similarly, your protagonist's "present" mentor or idol doesn't necessarily have to be a wise wizard either. It can simply be someone who motivates them to change their world view or strive to be better.

In romance, it is more than acceptable to have the present mentor coincide with the love interest - especially in standalone enemies-to-lovers. I know this seems counter-intuitive, since the word "mentor" implies a power imbalance, but it makes more sense if you readjust your definition of mentor to be "inspires change".

However, for Maera, I kind of like the idea of pairing her up with a love interest who shares some of her flaws. I vibe with the idea of making him a bit self-interested too, although for different reasons.

So in her example, I've listed the present mentor as a selfless secondary character. The way I would envision this going is Maera and the love interest team up early on - but somewhere along the way a secondary character saves them both. They're both heavily influenced by this character before this character sacrifices themselves. The aftermath of this incident rattles both Maera and her love interest, and serves as the spark for growth.

I hope you found this template - and very long explanation - useful!