#but I already changed it to their names it sounds more natural to me so I won’t think about it anymore

[shy-writer-999]

OP Headcanons: Sanji & begging

WARNING: MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: Sanji hates it when you beg, but cockwarming changes his mind. SMUT! ~3.8k words. Afab reader. CW for pet names ("good girl"), teasing, begging, crying (only a tiny bit), edging, overstimulation, P in V, and cumming inside. (´ ᴗ｀✿)

Sanji & begging/c0ckwarming

Sanji wanted you to know you that you have all of him, so he absolutely detests it when you beg. Even the smallest hint of desperate pleading in your voice makes his eye twitch—you can have anything you want, and you have all of him. Why do you even question it? Why would he ever make you beg for it? You could have the whole world, his whole self, his heart, anything he could get his hands on, he would give it to you. He would do anything for you, no questions asked. Begging, in Sanji’s logic, at least, implied that he was withholding something from you—an idea he was categorically opposed to; you had all of him, and he would give anything to you that you wanted, or (literally) die trying.

While Sanji loved sex, fucking, making love, getting nasty, and getting lovey-dovey, he refused to tolerate begging of any kind. He wasn’t annoyed by you asking for something, but to him, there was a difference between asking and begging. Safe to say, whatever he understood as ‘begging’ was a pet peeve for him (albeit a very mild one).

However, Sanji’s aversion to begging changed the night you decided to try out cockwarming. You asked if you two could try it out. Sanji said that he was more than happy to oblige—as mentioned previously, he’d do anything you asked, and being able to do things for you brought him the purest happiness. Plus, he knew it would feel great.

Before it happened, you told Sanji that you wanted him inside of you for at least twenty minutes before you started fucking. You were setting the rules and establishing expectations, something that he was fantastic with.

“Sanji, no matter what I say, don’t start fucking me, and don’t let me start fucking you, until we reach the 20-minute mark. I wanna try it. Ok?”

Sanji promised that no matter what, you wouldn’t start fucking until the 20-minute mark, on the dot. He thought it sounded easy and he was eager to try out anything that would please you.

You cautioned him. “Even if I start begging, don’t listen to me, ok?” He assented—you knew how he felt about this sort of thing, so you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with it. He would do as you asked, naturally.

You knew that waiting twenty whole minutes would be difficult… but it sounded fun. And his cock felt amazing inside of you, so why not? If you saw Sanji get worked up, that would be an added bonus.

When the time came, you were sitting on Sanji’s lap, your back resting on his chest. His hands were on your hips. He set a timer on his phone and wasted no time pushing his cock through your folds and into your core. When he first started stretching you out, you realized this would be much harder than anticipated. You’d never get over how it felt when he was buried deep inside.

As Sanji pressed his head further and further into you, you shuddered. He length felt massive and hot. Gliding himself inside of you as deep as he could, he bottomed out and came to a stop. Your breath hitched. He could feel your walls already constricting, could tell that your body had tensed, that you were holding your breath.

“Baby, just relax.” He cooed in your ear as his hands slid down your hips to rest where your hips and thighs met. He gave you a good squeeze. “Only twenty minutes, ok? Just think of how good it will be when we can start moving.”

Sanji was in control, which he liked. He was submissive frequently, and sure, he liked being told what to do, but in the event that he had the reigns, he got such a kick out of telling you what to do—as long as you didn’t start begging and crying for it. Because, once again, you could have anything you asked for, and you had all of him. Sanji was hopelessly in love with you, he worshipped you. Your wish was his command. And now that you wished for cockwarming, he was in command.

He felt a little playful and figured it’d be nice to get you worked up, but not too worked up. After all, that was part of the fun. Some dirty talk and encouragement couldn’t hurt.

“Mmmm,” he hummed into your neck from behind and gave your hips a squeeze. “Your pussy feels great on my cock. So warm and wet already. Does it feel good for you too, pretty girl?”

You nodded.

“Can you use your words, my love?”

“Yes, Sanji, it feels good.” Your voice was strained and heat was blooming between your legs concerningly quick.

“It’s going to feel even better when I can drag it inside and outside, isn’t it?” He murmured again, close to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your neck.

You answered “yes”, getting wetter—when he talked to you like this, it did something to you. It made your butterflies stir and made you blush, no matter how many times it happened.

He continued. “Mmmhmm, ‘s gonna feel so good.” Sanji’s dick jumped inside of you while he whispered sweet things in your ear, and your pussy clenched around it in response.

While you cockwarmed him, Sanji had a cookbook propped up on the table in front of you. He figured he might as well be productive in the twenty minutes, and it would be a good distraction. As long as you sat still, there’d be no problem. And besides, he had strict orders to stick to.

“Can you turn the page, my dear?” His voice went from teasing and seductive to gentle and loving. He was unfazed by the whole thing so far, but your previous resolve had started to disintegrate.

The cookbook was interesting, you smelled and felt good, and Sanji was happy. Regardless of whether or not his cock was in you, it was a privilege to be close to you in any way, so he was quite enjoying himself.

When reached your hand forward to turn the page of the cookbook, per his request, the small movement shifted his cock inside of you just barely. It was hardly noticeable, but the tiniest amount of friction sent electricity to your core.

Sanji kept reading. Three minutes went by.

He told you when to turn the page, and every time you reached forward (truly, the most miniscule of movements), your cunt clenched around his length. You were trying so hard to ignore it, but you just felt so full. Your juices were already starting to drip down his shaft, oozing to the base of his cock. Sanji could feel every delicious drip—he indulged in a fantasy for a second, imagining the taste of you, wishing he could suck on your clit. And while Sanji imagined sticking his tongue into your slit and rubbing your clit at the same time, you were trying to steady yourself. You told yourself to get a grip—after all, it was only 20 minutes, what’s the big deal?

As you reached to turn the next page (he was reading so fast, or rather, he was pretending to read fast), your core started to pulse around him. You took a deep breath, trying to regain composure. This whole thing was your idea, so you had better stick to the plan.

“Are you getting that excited already?” He scolded, feeling you squeeze and clench around him. “You have to wait. It’s only been seven minutes, princess.”

“I know, Sanji. It just feels so good already, it’s going to drive me crazy.”

“Crazy or not, you have to wait, sweetie.” His voice was coddling and sympathetic but stern.

His breath tickled your ear and he kissed from the back of your ear to your neck. It added to the overwhelming sensation of his cock throbbing in you, not moving, almost pressing on your g-spot but not completely.  

It felt like time was standing still—the seconds felt like hours, but only two more minutes had passed. Your heartbeat quickened and your gooey walls squeezed him again, molding to the shape of his cock, memorizing every inch of it, preparing to crave it again as soon as possible.

“I can feel that,” Sanji murmured as he felt you constrict and quiver for him. “Feels good.”

You didn’t respond because you knew your voice would come out as a whine. He squeezed your thighs again.

Pressure and heat were boiling in your core at this point. Only nine minutes in and your body was entering dangerous territory—you couldn’t focus on anything other than Sanji and his cock. You indulged for a moment, envisioning how good it would feel when he finally moved, how good it would feel for him to bring his hands up and play with your nipples, sucking on your neck and calling you sweet names.

The next time Sanji asked you to flip the page of his cookbook, you had to stifle a moan. You readjusted your position slightly; you were starting to feel uncomfortable. When you tried to reposition your thighs, which had been aching because your muscles had been tensed the whole time, his cock brushed your soft spot and you let out a muffled, needy sound. It sounded like a whimper, almost inaudible, but since he was so close to you, he heard it clear as day.

“Does it really feel that good when you turn the pages for me?” Sanji’s tone was one of feigned scorn, but you could hear his grin while he spoke. “Ten more minutes, angel. We’re halfway there. Just hold on. Don’t even think about how deep my cock is in you. Try to forget it. We’re just sitting here.”

While he tried and failed to calm you, Sanji was holding on for dear life. He was keeping a good façade, though. Every time that your pussy squeezed, every time he felt your muscles spasm, it sent a ripple of pleasure through him. If you could have seen it, you would see that his cock was weeping precum inside you. Every flutter from your core milked it out even more.

Only a minute had passed—nine minutes left on the timer. You were in agony at this point. Couldn’t he just move his cock a little bit?

You were starting to lose control of your body—you needed him now. Your cunt wouldn’t listen to reason, and desire was starting to fog your mind, pushing you into a haze where the only thing you could think of was how good Sanji felt inside of you and how badly you wanted to ride him.

Another minute went by. You couldn’t hold it any longer. You felt like you were going to explode.

“Sanji,” you let out a whine and his cock jumped again. “I can’t do it anymore.” As he took a breath to utter out a reply, you adjusted your hips and started to grind back and forth on his length. Since it was buried inside of you, every movement felt intense and satisfying, mind-blowing. Your movements brushed and squeezed his whole shaft—if you did this much longer Sanji wouldn’t be able to take it. But he had to. He promised you.

Your body went into overdrive. You couldn’t focus on anything and your resolve to wait nine more minutes completely vanished. You needed him and you were going to have him. You knew he wanted it because his cock twitched every other second. When you started grinding on him you moaned his name and it went straight to his dick.

“Y/N!” His voice was harsh. “Stop it, we can’t do that yet. We only have a few minutes left. I want it too, but you told me that we had to make it 20 minutes, so just hold on, my love.” He gripped your hips painfully tight, holding you in place, making sure you weren’t able to move an inch.

You started to pant and your hands met his, grasping them so hard it hurt.

“S-Sanji,” you were fully whining, not holding back anymore, so frustrated. “I can’t, I—nnnghhhhh—fuck, I can’t wait, I- I need it. Can we do it earlier? I want it now. Just forget what I said about 20 minutes.” You choked back another moan, exasperated, and his grip tightened.

“Y/N, I said no.” He had to choke back a groan. “Only a few more minutes. I promised you. We can’t yet, no matter how sweetly you ask. You told me to get to 20 minutes.”

His words went in one ear and out the other. You were lost already. Reason was out the window. You desperately tried to move your hips from side to side, up and down, to no avail. His grip was iron tight, leaving bruises where his fingers were clamped unforgivingly on your skin.

Finally, you started to beg.

“Sanji, I need you. Need you to fuck me now. Please,” your voice took on the most pathetic tone he’d ever heard. Sanji could feel your heart pounding while you begged for it; he could feel how out of breath you were. “Please fuck me—I—I need it so bad. P-please, Sanji.”

It took Sanji a moment to register your words. Lust was starting to take over his mind. If he wasn’t at the precipice of losing control already, he would have told you to stop begging at him—he would have reminded you of your own words from not long ago.

But you were imploring, beseeching, pleading for him to fuck you. You were telling him to not listen to what you said previously and that you wanted him now—and the issue was that he wanted you now, too. He wanted you so bad that it hurt. Combined with your futile attempts to writhe out of his grip, your sniveling and whining flipped a switch in Sanji’s brain. You sounded depraved, starved, desperate and cock-crazed.

He was so turned on he thought he would pass out. So this is why begging was appealing. This feeling is why people liked it when their partners needed something so badly they started to beg. To have you lose all inhibitions and desperately crave him so bad… he was outrageously attracted to you and wildly in love with you. Seeing you want him so bad… he would never forget it.

Need is an understatement. You desired Sanji carnally so much that you backtracked on your own words, told him to pay them no heed. You told him you’d do anything for him to fuck you now. You couldn’t make it five more minutes. You didn’t care about what you said before—you had to have it now.

“Fuckkkk,” he groaned. “We shouldn’t yet—baby I told you, we’d—ngggghhhh—told you we’d make it to—to twenty minutes.” His face was contorted. He was exercising the most discipline he ever had, steeling himself.

“I don’t care about what I said earlier,” you keened, fingernails digging into his skin, thighs shaking. “Need it now. Sanji, please.” He couldn’t see your face, but he could tell that you were so frustrated tears had started welling in your eyes.

Sanji froze. He felt your pussy quaking and your body was physically screaming out in need. He heard your words; heard you give him permission to fuck you now. He saw your toes curling, felt your fingernails digging into his wrists… It was too much. He was at his wits end. He was about to give in to the situation, your words, and his own desperation.

“Fuckkkkk,” he groaned loud and long, the deep noise rumbling out of his chest. He threw his head back, brows furrowed, face twisted. He had been clenching every last muscle in his body in an attempt to not fuck you. Before, you had asked him sweetly to make it to 20 minutes, to not listen to a thing you said, even if you begged for it. But here you were now, dripping slick on his cock, begging and pleading him to disregard what you had said earlier… begging him for pleasure, for the pleasure he could and wanted to give you.

Sanji couldn’t take it anymore. “Do it.”

When you heard his words and his grip on your hips loosened slightly you immediately pulled off his cock just enough and plunged him back into you. You were so wet it had seeped down his balls, making a messy puddle on the chair beneath you; your slick made your movements fluid and felt slippery on his cock.

Bouncing on his cock after begging for it, after waiting for it so long, after being so good—it was the most pleasure you’d ever felt. He was filling you up, fucking you so sloppily. His hands helped you go up and down, his groans played in your ear like honey. “F-feels so good, baby. So—so good on my cock.”

Sanji saw stars, his mind went blank. He moaned your name again and again while you whimpered. He felt how warm your cunt was, how wet it was, how tight it was, how sweaty you were—he savored your pathetic noises, got off on how needy you sounded, how desperately your hips grinded into his cock, how you fucked yourself with it. Sanji was gone. He became feral, helping you ride him faster and faster until neither of you could breathe. He didn’t give a fuck anymore.

“S-sanji, I—I’m gonna cum,” you moaned.

“Don’t care,” he grunted out, pussy drunk and apathetic.

Your ass and cunt slammed down onto his cock so rapidly that noises filled the room within seconds. It smelled like sex already; the slapping noises were almost as filthy as the noises coming from your mouth.

You almost were at your limit, so when Sanji’s fingers trailed down and started messily rubbing your clit, you nearly blacked out from pleasure, practically screaming his name.

“Cum for me.” He murmured right in your ear, his voice husky and deep.

Only seconds after that, the wave of bliss crashed over you as you creamed on his cock. You felt like you were floating, detached from reality. All you could feel was Sanji inside of you; you were aware of nothing else. You convulsed and twisted on him, tightening and wringing his cock.

Your orgasm didn’t faze Sanji. He fucked you just as aggressively through your orgasm as before. He overstimulated you, listening to your cries and getting off on the desperate noises trickling out of your mouth.

“Sanji,” you squirmed. “’s too much.”

You didn’t tell him to stop, and he knew that you felt so good from his cock that you were going to let him do anything. He was hungry for it, almost growling in your ear, telling you to “Keep going, princess.”

Sanji was doing all the work now. As his cock rammed into you, hitting your g-spot so many times you lost count, he quickly brought you to the brink of orgasm again. He was wrenching pleasure from your core, dragging it out of you carelessly and roughly.

“Feels so good on my cock, my love,” he groaned again, his voice hoarse. “Bouncing on it so good, so wet—taking it all for me. Doing such a good job.”

Your eyes were rolling back into your head at this point, you were almost limp. You needed more and more, wanted him inside of you forever—you were fucked out, fucked into oblivion, fucked like you had never been fucked before.

“S-sanji, I’m—I’m gonna cum again.”

“Show me.” His voice was rough, raspy, and gravelly.

Another wave crashed down on you as you orgasmed again, writhing and crying out his name. You fully collapsed back into him. When you came on his cock again, Sanji was seconds after you. He couldn’t hold it anymore. His hips bucked up, jerking and twitching into your cunt as his cum finally shot deep inside you. He came so much that it started leaking out of your slit, coating his shaft and balls with his own cum. He came for what felt like forever; it felt like he moaned your name a hundred times.

When you both finished riding the waves of euphoria, you were exhausted and dripping with sweat. Your hair was matted to your forehead, your voice weak, legs shaking so much you doubted you’d be able to walk.

Sanji was so fucked out he could hardly think. Moments after you both started to return to reality, you realized that Sanji’s timer had been going off the whole time. It was loud and blaring—it’s a wonder neither of you heard it.

“Fuck,” he groaned again, grabbing his phone and cancelling the alarm while he was still inside of you. “So much for waiting twenty minutes.” You could hear in his voice that he was smiling. He kissed your neck and the back of your shoulders, wrapped his hands around you into a loving embrace. “You did such a good job waiting for so long, baby.”

His praise made your heart melt. Sanji would compliment you no matter what, give you anything you wanted, love you through it all. Your requests were never too much, and he listened to you always. He was the ultimate lover-boy.

“Okay, my love.” He nuzzled into the crook of neck and held you tighter. “Let’s go take a shower, we both need one.” He pulled out of you, doubling down on the kisses and squeezes to make up for it, then he scooped you up and carried you to the shower, where he proceeded to clean you up, kiss your forehead, and tell you how good you had been through the whole thing.

After the cockwarming, Sanji came around (pun intended) to the idea of begging. He liked that you were so desperate for him and he liked that he was in control so much that you started to babble and moan with every breath. Thinking about it later that night made his cock twinge again—he had inadvertently discovered a new part of you (the uncaring relentlessness of your entreaties) and a new part of himself (wherein he got off on seeing you so fucked out and desperate that you begged).

(˃ᆺ˂) (=^･ω･^=) (⊙_☉) (¬_¬)ﾉ

okay that's all thank u sm for reading and indulging in this freakiness with me i appreciate u so so much!!! if you got this far, which would you like to see first? i'm thinking of something with either ace or zoro...

here's my masterlist if ur interested!

--Z

[marvelsswansong]

show and tell

summary: a white rose at the train station. his hand in yours at the zoo. his mother's golden mirror. does he love you or is he simply trying to gain the public's favour and secure the Plith prize? you're unsure. and so is he, until he very much isn't.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slow burn (ish), fluff, angst, technically a happy ending but quite dark, purely based off the movie but I take some creative detours, CW for violence, mentions of starvation, toxic/manipulative behaviors and a semi-dark!snow (please read at your own discretion, take care of yourself above all else :))

☆ word count: 5.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Coriolanus hates waiting. 

The stillness, the eerie silence of an early morning at the Capitol train station. It eats away at his core.

His mouth tastes like copper, his throat's starting to itch from the dryness and there's a brief moment of fear as he ponders if he's making a huge mistake. A sharp whistle ringing through the station signals the train's arrival, and as his eyes adjust to the billowing grey smoke and a sea of white (the peace keepers), the flower in his left hand suddenly feels heavy. As if the weight of the situation is starting to bear on his shoulders.

He wasn't supposed to be here. If all had gone to plan, he would've already been the recipient of the Plinth Prize and taken the first car back home to buy his grandma'am some chocolates and Tigris a new dress. No more worrying. No more surviving on dwindled fortunes. No more pretending to fit in with high society. 

Then, of course, the rules had to change. Viewership was down and it was of both Dean Highbottom's and Dr Gaul's opinion that what was missing was spectacle. Now, whoever the best mentor was in transforming their tribute into prime entertainment would win the prize. 

"Your role is to turn these tributes into spectacles. Not survivors." 

The silence that hung after this announcement in the Academy was heavy, but Coriolanus knew better than to show his true emotions on his face. After all, if there was one thing that he knew how to do as the star student of the Academy: it was to plan. And when he saw your... unruly introduction to the public, sneaking a snake down a woman's dress before cussing out the audience, it dawned on him that it would be a tall order to endear you to the public.

But not impossible.

The sounds of the tributes being roughly unloaded off the platform snaps him back into reality, his eyes easily landing on your figure as you jump off the train, your upper arms supported by the tribute (Jessup, Coriolanus recalls his name being) standing next to you. Pushing through the soldiers, the blonde nearly breaks into a small sprint to catch up to you as you turn your head upon hearing the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Welcome to the Capitol." the strange man in front of you says, before holding out a pristine white rose. It's a peculiar looking flower, you think, a kind of flower you've never seen before (at least, certainly not back in your home district). It looks almost artificial, you think, with how perfectly white and untouched its petals are.

The blonde assesses your cautious glance - the sunlight hitting the under color of your irises perfectly in a glistening twilight - and a fleeting thought passes by, that the tv camera didn't do your natural beauty justice. He has to suppress a smirk when you finally respond, narrowing your eyes at him with your arms crossing above your chest.

"You seem like you shouldn't be here."

He chuckles at that.

"I'm not supposed to be. And yet here I am." A pause. "But I'm your mentor. Coriolanus Snow."

That's a first, you think. Mentors for tributes. 

"And what does my mentor do except bring me roses?" you question, flicking the buds with your fingers. Coriolanus just smiles. 

"I do my best to take care of you." 

Your supposed mentor says it so sincerely, you think, and he's obviously charming with his devilishly handsome looks and low whisper. But there's something that stops you from holding out your hand and taking the rose from his fingers. You suppose he isn't lying - after all, what would be the point of it - but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite explain. 

Something that makes your stomach flutter in both excitement and dread.

"Move." the soldier behind you then barks, shoving you and Jessup forward. You decide to give your mentor one last grin and a quiet "see you later", thinking that's going to be the last you see of him for a while.

The last thing you expect is for him to jump into the back of the vehicle alongside the other tributes, drawing the eyre of a few who pin him against the moving vehicle and start taunting him with violence. 

"You look rather out of place." the tall boy pinning Coriolanus drawls.

"I'm not, I can assure you. I'm here for (Y/n). I'm her mentor." 

That puts the unwanted attention on you, as the other tributes begin to circle around you with sinister expressions twisting on their lips.

"Mentor, huh? How come little miss music gets one but not the rest of us?" a brunette girl drawls, eyeing you up and down.

The boy pinning Coriolanus down applies stronger pressure to his neck, and you rise in an attempt to intervene, but he meets your gaze discreetly and motions for you to remain seated. 

"You all have a mentor, they're just... not here." he croaks. 

"Right, and we're all supposed to believe you?" another girl, this one from district 4 you believe, taunts. "What's to say we shouldn't just kill you now?" 

The blonde shoots you a nervous look and that's when you feel pity. Just like you, he's in a foreign environment and pretending to be brave. You suppose also that he's your only ticket out, your only chance of potential success at surviving in the games.

So you intervene.

"You could kill him. But then the moment this truck stops you'll all be gathered round and killed by the peace keepers. He's clearly Capitol. And if they're willing to hang District people simply for stealing, can't imagine what killing a member of the Capitol would mean for punishment." 

That scares them off and Coriolanus sits down next to you, breathing heavily in an effort to catch his breath, before quietly thanking you.

"You really wanna thank me?" you quirk, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Start by thinking about how I can actually win." 

The truck then suddenly comes to a halt, and the next thing you know the truck is being tipped over and the doors fly open. Coriolanus grasps your arm in lightning speed, pulling you close towards him so that he'd hit the harsh ground first, absorbing most of the impact.

When you shakily stand up on your feet, you realize you're enclosed in a large metal cage akin to that of an animal enclosure. There's even an over enthusiastic TV presenter in the background, who now seems to have noticed your mentor and begins to call out to him.

"Where are we?" you breathe out, already shivering from the autumn cold.

The blonde barely shifts, only dusting off his suit in a calm manner.

"(Y/n) (L/n) from District 12, welcome to the Capitol Zoo. Would you like to meet my neighbors?" he jokes, eyes slyly shifting to the right to refer to the small audience that has now gathered around the TV presenter. 

You hesitate, but then he takes your right hand in his before leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"You want to win, right? Good. I'd like to win as well. And the first thing you'll need to do? Perform for the cameras." Coriolanus accentuates the end of his sentence by sliding the rose behind your ear, a gesture which draws an excited reaction from the crowd.

Is your mentor doing it for the cameras or for something else? You're unsure. But given your desperation to win, and the fact that he clearly knows more about the games than you do, you decide to play along.

Warm hands twisting in the cold, Coriolanus drags your enjoined hands towards the TV camera as he does what he does best. Lie, smile, and charm the audience. Even when the attention turns to you, as Lucky Flickerman (that's his name, you learn) directs questions towards you, the blonde never lets go of your hand in his.

Before he leaves, as news of his rule-breaking spreads amongst the members of the public, you grab him out of desperation one last time.

"Please get us some food, we've been starving since the Reaping."

The blonde nods, but you can't help but feel anxious: not knowing if his previous gestures of kindness were just for show. 

-------------------------------

"Who's that for?"

Coriolanus had meant to sneak the sandwiches and cookies into his spare napkin discreetly, but of course Clemensia had to be two steps behind him, interrogating his every move. 

"Just not very hungry, that's all." he nearly grits through his teeth, forcing a fake smile.

The dark haired girl chuckles at that, shaking her head sideways.

"You don't have to lie to me, Snow. Especially me."

"... It's for (Y/n)." he quietly admits. She hums at that, picking at her own food from across the table.

"That's awfully nice of you. What, already going soft for some girl you met yesterday?" she teases, and it immediately elicits an angry refusal out of him.

"It's not like that." Coriolanus snaps, his sudden harshness making his classmate flinch in surprise. "I just... can't have her dying before the games even begin because she's not as well fed as the others." 

Clemensia scoffs, flicking the rest of her orange peel into the trash.

"Honestly, Snow, I don't know why you bother. She's clearly not going to survive. I mean, have you seen the tributes from districts 1 and 3?"

Ignoring her comments, he wordlessly slips away from the table and hails a ride down to the zoo. News of his intentions travels fast and whilst he doesn't mind Sejanus' company, it takes intense effort to force himself to look away from Arachne when she tags along and decides to taunt a caged tribute with a glass bottle. 

"You came back." you mutter, staring at the neatly wrapped napkin in disbelief. Coriolanus dislikes how surprised you sound, then hates himself more for caring about what you think. 

Why do you care what she thinks? he scolds himself. She's just a tribute you're mentoring.

"Of course I did. Can't have my tribute dying before the games even begin, now can I?" he teases, feigning nonchalant. 

The presence of academy mentors seems to have attracted a crowd, with a few photographers even pointing their lenses towards you and Coriolanus as his hand slips through the metal gates to meet yours to hand off the food. When your fingers touch his, a part of you wonders if he would've ever came back if there was no PR involved.

Too grateful and too hungry to care, you just say thank you, before breaking off a piece for Jessup and offering half a sandwich to your mentor.

"Oh no, I'm not hungry." he says out of instinct, surprised by your offering. You raise your eyebrows in response, pursing your lips.

"You sure about that? Because I could hear your stomach growl from a mile away." you retort. 

"Right. Uh, thank you." 

Biting into the soft bread, you chew, savoring every bite. A silence settles between the two of you as you both eat, right before you ask him a quiet question.

"... Did you get into a lot of trouble for what you did for me yesterday?" your eyes shine with worry, you nervously looking up at him for an answer. He finds himself again surprised by how much you seem to care. 

Yes, he wants to say. I nearly got myself disqualified as a mentor and it would've been the end of my family's future in the Capitol. But he swallows his thoughts down, alongside the dry taste of the tuna sandwich.

"Not much. Actually, I was able to convince the gamemaster, Dr Gaul, to implement a few changes to the games."

"Really, like what?"

"To let the public send you donations. That way, I could send you supplies you needed into the arena - food, water, medicine. It'd mean having to do the extra job of playing to the public and getting them to root for your survival, but with a voice like yours, the songbird of Panem -"

Your smile drops at that, your gaze turning stern at his suggestion.

"I only sing when I please for an audience I choose." your eyebrows furrow, your usually sweet expression melting into something more sour. It's oddly cute, he thinks. 

"I know, but I'm really going to need you to try. It's for your own survival. Our survival." he emphasizes, staring right into your eyes. You can't suppress your sad smile at that, crumbling the empty napkin in your hands.

"Are you sure it's not just for your survival?"

Your question haunts Coriolanus that night, alongside the sounds of broken glass and pained gasps as Arachne lies bleeding on the ground, having been stabbed in the neck by one of the tributes. When he quickly runs to his classmate, he doesn't get to see your expression, as you're ripped away by Jessup pulling you into safety in an instant and peace keepers swarm the scene in an effort to remain calm.

When he's back home and the crimson blood coating his hands have dried from where he was holding his dying classmate's wounds, he wonders if there's any truth to your answer.

-------------------------------

Everything changes at the arena tour.

You've not had much sleep. You're confused, you're angry, but most of all you've been haunted by your conflicting feelings towards your mentor and the name he'd called you - songbird. A silly little songbird, you think spitefully. 

To sing and charm the very same public who had doomed her to a violent game of death. 

It was absurd, really, that he'd even ask that. It made your stomach churn and your head ache at the thought of cheapening your craft for something so juvenile.

And yet, when you spot the familiar red suit and white blonde hair in the mass of other mentors at the arena, you can't help but feel warmth in your chest and stomach. A part of you even feels lucky, given that the other mentors seem to waste their time insulting their tributes or being too afraid to talk to them. Whilst Coriolanus, on the other hand, seems to be full of ideas to ensure your survival.

"The game master liked my suggestions. So the donations system is going to be implemented, with a broadcast beforehand for the tributes to get a chance to endear themselves to the public for donations." He's speaking so fast that you almost think he enjoys explaining the games to you. "Now what this means is that assuming you get enough donations, when the bell goes off, you don't go for the weapons. You don't fight. You just run as fast as you can, hide and stay alive for as long as you can." 

"How can you even be sure I'll get enough donations for you to be able to send supplies?" you mutter, looking around at the other tributes. "A lot of these folks are a lot taller and stronger than I am. They've got a much better chance at surviving than I do."  

Coriolanus surprises you by taking both of your hands in his, squeezing your palms tight in his cold palms.

"I know, but we have something none of the others have."

You scrunch your face in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A story. A strong connection between you and me, a Capitol mentor and a District 12 tribute. Not to mention, your incredible singing and songwriting. Match that with my knack for public relations and we'll have enough donations to send you any supplies necessary for your victory in the games."

You realize then that Coriolanus is unlike anyone else you've ever met. So confident, so sure, so perceptive of other people and their secret desires and pitfalls. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs is admirable, if not almost foolish, but you keep that part to yourself.

"How're you so sure I'll even survive the first few minutes?" you push back, still unconvinced, though you don't pull away from his hold. "And, again, I don't just sing for anyone."

The blonde opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted when a sudden cascade of dust and fire crumbles down from the ceiling of the arena. The sound of a bomb exploding reverberates as you're both thrown off of your feet by the impact. Your head is still ringing from the chaos when Jessup pulls at your sleeves, commanding you to walk away from the wreckage. 

Rising onto shaky legs, you even spot another tribute running from the guards towards a blown out hole on the side of the building. And when your eyes meet with Coriolanus' frantic ones, his lower half trapped underneath rubble, you both recognize that you now have an unbridled chance to escape - 

But you don't.

To the blonde's complete shock, you instead shove your friend off, screaming as you lift the heavy cement column with all your strength in an effort to pry the debris off of his body. With the help of a few peace keepers, it works, but Coriolanus falls into unconsciousness quickly as he succumbs to the excruciating pain of crushed ribs and bruised limbs.

The last thing he sees before he fades into darkness is your teary eyes, a sight he so badly wants to fix by wiping away your tears with his fingers... 

When he eventually wakes, it's in a dark hospital next to his grandma'am and sister. There's a roar on the television screen as you're brought onto the broadcast, shy smile and a glittering guitar in hand. It hits him that you're actually going to sing. 

"I didn't have a chance to... uh... write a new song. But I'd like to dedicate this performance to someone very special who's recently been hurt." you say into the mike, your eyes clearly brimming with nerves and doubt. 

As you sing, there's a tight sensation in Coriolanus' chest once the lyrics settle into his mind - a small voice whispers in his mind that it's jealousy, for you singing about a boy back in your home town who broke your heart - but it's overwhelmed by the feelings of gratitude and awe that you'd ended up doing what he asked you to do. All that, after selflessly saving his life.

"A...are you okay, Coryo?" is all Tigris asks, brushing his hair back and gently guiding him back down onto bed upon seeing his expression twist into one of discomfort.

"She could've run." 

"What?"

"At the arena. The blast blew open a large opening on the side of the stadium. I saw one of the tributes actually make it out that way." he lets out a shaky breath, hating you for what you've done to him to make him feel this way. "Damn it, Tigris. She could've run. She could've-"

A single tear drops from his left eye and onto his injured palm, his weak voice giving away his true emotions.

"She could've saved herself from even having to participate in the games. But she stayed. She fucking stayed behind to lift the debris off of me."

"She saved your life." his sister finishes for him, the atmosphere turning somber as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. "I'm just so glad that you're both safe." 

As you retreat from the screen, the donation numbers only piling up higher as Lucky Flickerman closes out the broadcast, a hot fire lights up in Coriolanus' stomach. 

He has to save you.

No matter what it takes.

--------------------------------------

"You know he's just using you, right?"

After the broadcast, once it's revealed that you were given the largest amount of donations out of all the other tributes, Coral from District 4 corners you backstage. 

"Pardon?" you fake ignorance, a small smile playing on your lips, which only seems to aggravate the girl further. 

"Your pretty boy mentor. He's only been faking all sweet for you to get the public to send you donations. In fact, I bet he didn't even bother to try and pull himself out of the wreckage so that he could get more public sympathy.

You snap at that, all fake modesty melting away in an instant.

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Coral. Coriolanus isn't like that." you spit, but all she does is look down at you with a nasty smirk on her lips.

"Oh really? And how would you know, little songbird? Think he'd care about someone from district 12? And why do you think he wants you to win so badly? Because he's a good person?" she mocks, her face now a mere inches away from yours. "No. I reckon it's more for the prize money." 

You can't sleep that night at the zoo, tossing and turning in the dark. Your mind can't seem to rest, torn between the adrenaline and dread for the games tomorrow, alongside the constant worry over Coriolanus' wellbeing and doubts over his genuinity and trustworthiness.

Coral's just trying to get in my head. you repeat to yourself, over and over again. You're on the edge of sleep, exhausted and upset by your conflicting emotions, when you hear a familiar voice coming from the darkness. 

It sounds like Coriolanus. 

You sit up straight, and it's true: he's here, and he's whispering your name repeatedly, beckoning you towards the front of the cage and away from your sleeping competitors. Suddenly, the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue disappears, and you find yourself gravitating towards the only person you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.

"Coryo, you're... you're alright." you sigh out, almost overwhelmed with relief. You don't even realize you're crying until his hands reach up and brush away your tears, his warm hand a stark contrast to the freezing cold of the night.

"I am. All thanks to you, songbird." he breathes out, his fingers tracing the ripples of your cheeks. His head feels dizzy and his hands tremble as he searches his pockets for his mother's golden compact mirror. 

"Don't call me that." you weakly laugh, as he does too. "What's this?" you ask, staring at the object he’s folded gently into your hands. 

"It's for you to use in the arena. Now listen to what I say very carefully. Don't breathe this in, don't spill it on yourself, and only use it when you really need to." he slowly explains, as if he's terrified that you're going to harm yourself by merely carrying it in your pockets. 

"Is... is this allowed? For you to sneak in and give me this?" you whisper, looking around your surroundings, but it's pitch black. 

The blonde purses his lips, using every muscle in his body to keep his expression neutral.

No, it's certainly not allowed. I am risking my life, as well as my family's future, by doing this.

"That's not important. What is important is that the blast from the arena has created a hole leading out to a bunch of service tunnels. I tested it out myself, it leads towards the outside, far away from the peace keepers." 

"Wait, I don't understa-"

Desperation grabs a hold of him, and it's a foreign feeling - the crushing despair of wanting to protect someone that he can't, the burning urge to want to put someone else ahead of him for once.

"What I need you to do tomorrow, (Y/n), is to run. The moment the alarm rings, don't even think of running towards the weapons or fighting the others. Don't even hide anymore. Just… just run towards the tunnels, by yourself, and get out."

"But what about Jessup-" you hiccup. Your head's spinning, confused and horrified by your mentor's change of plans and the prospect of leaving behind your friend to die in the arena. 

"Forget about him." Coriolanus snaps. Suddenly, his eyes are cold and his voice is firm, commanding you as if you have no choice in the matter. "In there, he's as dangerous as the other tributes. You can't trust anyone, not even your supposed friends, okay? The games, they-" he chokes on his own words, and there's something again in Coriolanus' eyes that you can't quite decipher. "They bring out the worst in people. Promise me you'll run."

It makes your stomach twist in anxiety.

"I-"

"Please." 

As he begs, his face crumbles, his voice so desperate and feeble that you can't find it in yourself to say no. 

"I... I'll try." you relent, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your agreement. 

"Good. Perfect." He takes your head in his hands and softly kisses your temple. "I won't let you die in there, okay? Just like you took care of me after the explosion. I'm going to take care of you."

"I'm your mentor. I do my best to take care of you." 

Coriolanus' words from the train station echo in your head as you nod, pocketing the mirror deep inside your dress to hide it away from plain sight.

"Will I... will I be able to see you, after the games?" 

You immediately feel stupid for even asking that. Everyone knows winning the games merely allows your return to your home district. And on all logical accounts, it wouldn't make any sense for the man to give up his life in the Capitol to follow you back to 12.

But he smiles at your innocent question, only nodding whilst squeezing your hands in the dark. To your feeble heart and mind, it feels like a genuine promise.

"Of course, my songbird. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." you whisper.

"I never do." 

And for the first time, you think you actually believe him wholeheartedly.

----------------------------------

You can't believe it. 

You've won.

You were so sure you were going to die once the snakes had been released, eyes closing shut once the venomous snakes began to crawl up your skin, but as you continued to sing... The reptiles simply slithered by your side, remaining docile and non-threatening. And based on the snakes' sudden change of behavior and Highbottom's scowl when he announced you as the victor of the 10th Hunger Games - "consider yourself lucky, little girl, as it seems your mentor was willing to break more than a few rules for you" - your stomach churns at the realization that Coriolanus kept his promise.

He did whatever it took to get you out. 

Even cheating. 

You've only heard whispers of the punishments for cheating at the Capitol. But based on the frequent hangings of rebels in your home district, you can't imagine that the punishment would be very kind.

Weeks have passed since your victory, since the last time you've even seen Coriolanus, but it does nothing to erase him from your mind. You still see his faint silhouette in the mornings, when your eyes have barely adjusted to the morning light and there's a pile of clothes sitting on the chair beside your bed. You think you hear his voice amongst the sea of strangers’ conversations, calling out for his 'songbird'. And you swear you see his face in every crowd at the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus is having the same struggles on the opposite end of the country. Luckily, bearing the last name Snow meant his punishment for cheating was to be lighter than the usual hanging: mandatory military service. District 8. But he's sure to bring his last few bills to bribe the immigration officer for a transfer to 12. 

All to come find you. 

He suffers through the first week of training - grueling hours, hanging ceremonies, endless ramblings from Sejanus about making a change for the better. He pretends not to notice Sejanus establishing connections within the rebel community, until he can’t ignore it anymore. After all, Coriolanus simply can't afford his friend’s idealism and recklessness to get him killed too, and potentially you, when you're thought to be linked to the movement by mere virtue of association.

Especially not you, Coriolanus thinks.

After the games, of having to watch you bleed, sob and fight for hours on end as he stood helplessly, only able to watch: even the passing thought of your death elicits a violent reaction in him. He'll do anything for you. 

Even if that means turning in his only friend to prove his loyalty to the Capitol.

It's an unremarkable Wednesday night for you when you're singing a song at the bar, black guitar in hand and the smell of booze thick in the air, when your eyes come across a familiar face. 

It takes you a few seconds, of course. You almost think it’s a hallucination, if it wasn’t for the sea of other soldiers surrounding him, validating his presence. His fluffy white locks are gone, replaced with a clean buzz cut. He's lost a bit of weight, his shoulders more broad and rough from military training, and the lack of expensive bright fabrics draped around his figure is jarring at first. But it suits him, you think. 

The song can't finish any faster before you're slinging your guitar to the back and rushing up to Coriolanus, immediately throwing your arms around him. He stiffens in your embrace before relaxing, his arms finding your waist and squeezing you tightly. And you can't help but savor every essence of his being: he smells of sweat and coal (unlike his Capitol uniform which always smelled of florals and clean linen) and you can feel the cool metal of his dog tags press against your collarbone at this angle.

"You came back for me." you breathe out, still not believing that he's in front of you. Your ex mentor just smiles, tapping your cheeks with his hands.

"Said I'd never break a promise, now didn't I?" 

As the next performer goes up on stage, recapturing the attention of the audience, you pull him away towards the back room, far away from the bustling crowds and twinkling lights.

"I've thought of you every day, my songbird." Coriolanus whispers against your skin once you two are away from the crowds, his head falling forwards into the nape of your neck.

Your cheeks warm at his comment, your fingers coming up to play with the dog tags around his neck, before a light chuckle escapes your lips.

"What's so funny? Did you not miss me?" the blonde teases, and you shake your head sideways in denial.

"Of course I missed you. I missed you more than you could imagine."

"Then what's the chuckle for?"

You let out a short sigh, not knowing if it’d be wise to bring it up. But all he does is encouraging you, looking deep into your eyes and nodding, urging you to say what’s on your mind. You relent, shoulders sagging. 

"It's just... when I won the games, Highbottom congratulated me. But not for winning the games. But for surviving you." you awkwardly chuckle in hopes of diffusing the seriousness of your question. "Is it true, Coryo?"

"What are you getting at?" is his response, coy and low. You can't tell if he's amused, annoyed or disturbed. 

Or all three at once.

"There's rumors, you know. I heard that you... you had to kill a tribute." you whisper, as if what you’re saying is the biggest secret in the world. "Is it true?"

Coriolanus pauses at that, the smirk on his face dropping for a fraction of a second before he's cupping your face and lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. His stare is so strong, so unwavering, almost to the point of unnerving you. But it's matched with such warmth and softness in his touch as he strokes your hair.

"You have to understand, darling… It was just like the snakes. If I hadn't rigged the game by getting the snakes used to your smell so they wouldn't attack you, you would've died. And if I hadn't killed the tribute charging at me when I had to sneak into the arena to rescue Sejanus-" he sighs, slow and long. He looks as if he’s thinking hard. "I had to, my songbird. I had to do it to protect you. To take care of you." he emphasizes.

You're not sure what kind of an answer you wanted, but you're unable to respond immediately, as it slowly dawns on you that this man both cheated and killed another person for you. 

His response to your silence is a swift kiss, calloused hands dropping to your waist to pull you in close, the gesture desperate and messy. Breathing heavily when he parts from you, he kisses you once more, this time a short peck which is more rough and demanding.

"I would do anything for you, (Y/n) (L/n). Anything for you."

Coriolanus chooses to keep quiet about the fact that technically, he could've just injured the tribute charging towards him instead. Or that it felt freeing to have ended the tribute’s life. Or that just a few hours ago, he tipped off the Capitol about Sejanus' rebellion. All in an effort to secure your unbridled safety. So that he doesn’t ever have to let go of you again.

"Now, where are your manners, my songbird? Aren't you going to thank me?" he whispers against your lips, smoothing out your hair.

"T-thank you, Coryo." you manage to stutter.

He smiles at that, kissing the top of your head as he sways you from side to side.

"Of course, love. Don't worry. We’re going to be just fine. In fact, everything will be fine from now on."

As you peak out from under his embrace, you're not so sure if you can believe him anymore.

a/n: leave it to a new hunger games movie and Tom Blyth playing young!Snow to make me return from my 1.5 year long writing hiatus.

I'm quite nervous about this one as it's my first time writing for a semi-dark character and also because it's been so long since I posted my writing on here... But I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, reblog, etc if you liked it. If this one is received well I might go ahead and post the other Snow fics currently sitting in my drafts!!!

[kesujo]

Chapter 1: Miss Personal Trainer

This year was the year Kang Seojun would get his shit together. He would learn more recipes and eat healthier, he would start working out and craft himself a body of the gods, and he would finally get a girlfriend and lose his virginity. After finally being able to move out of his parent’s house, after enjoying his newfound freedom, he admittedly slacked off—but that would change. With the new year came newly discovered motivation, and that started with the year subscription he purchased to the gym located near his apartment complex.

And boy was Seojun glad he chose to do that, because the personal trainer assigned to him was smoking hot. Seojun had seen his fair share of scantily clad idols, actresses, and models, but they all paled in comparison to her. She had perfect, milky-white skin and a slim physique but by no means was a slacker in the curves department. The way her formfitting gym wear followed the soft curves on her body, accentuating the fullness of her breasts and her hips, was absolutely sinful. He immediately wondered what running his hand across her curvaceous body would feel like, not long after catching himself and chastising his dirty mind for thinking about a woman he just met that way.

She introduced herself as Kim Taeyeon, and despite being about half a head shorter than himself, she gave off an extremely mature, knows-what-she’s-doing aura, which stood in stark contrast to her baby-faced appearance. Was Taeyeon in her thirties already or was she still in her early twenties? Seojun secretly hoped for the former as he wasn’t particularly keen on dating someone more than five years younger than him. Not that he ever stood a chance with her—on a scale of 1 to 10, she was probably an 11 in sexiness, cuteness, and general attractiveness. Seojun figured if he spent a lot of money and tried really hard, he was maybe a 7.

“So, Seojun, what’s your goal with working out?”

Her silvery voice was another thing: it was smooth, like warm butter, the words just seeming to flow out of her mouth like water from a steady creek. It was disarming, dangerously so; Seojun felt like he could listen to it all day. He then wondered what it sounded like moaning his name, shortly after catching himself with the salacious thought—what was with him today? He wasn’t normally like this. Was he that desperate?

“Um, I—” he stopped short, his heart skipping a beat at the delightful sight of Taeyeon giggling for a brief moment.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, please continue.”

Seojun hesitated, briefly wondering if she was laughing at him. “—I just thought that with the new year, that I should actually dedicate myself to working out and get a nice physique.”

“That’s admirable—sorry about earlier, I wasn’t laughing at you, I just suddenly thought of something funny.”

Seojun was perhaps a bit too relieved upon hearing that. “Oh, no worries! I didn’t take it that way.”

“The first thing we should do is create a workout plan accordingly. If you want to bulk up, you need to commit to changing your entire lifestyle. Are you prepared for that?”

He nodded. “Protein shakes, eating meals of only grilled chicken, rice, and steamed broccoli, right? Stuff like that?”

She nodded. “Right, something like that…” It may have just been Seojun, but he swore that a gleam appeared in Taeyeon’s eyes when she trailed off. He felt himself naturally shuddering; as sexy as the expression was, the sensation that passed through him wasn’t of arousal, but more akin to a primal fear. Like Taeyeon was a lion and he, a wounded antelope. “…but that’s all really hard work. There’s another way to achieve that goal, but you’ll have to just trust me.”

Honestly, Seojun was having a hard time focusing solely on his personal trainer’s words: the way she was holding her arms at stomach level meant that they inadvertently pushed her ample chest together and outwards, letting Seojun know that they were bigger than what the outfit initially conveyed. He felt bad for being so distracted by it and was thankfully able to catch most of what Taeyeon said, but the added factor of being completely alone in the building only added to the growing sense of anxiety and resulting self-consciousness he was feeling. When it came time for him to answer, Seojun had to actively wipe his mind from such thoughts, fearing they might leak into his response. “Oh, yeah, I would love to!”

He caught Taeyeon giggling again, a bewildered smile unknowingly forming on his face. “Great! Before we get started, I need to test you to see if you’re eligible. Would you come follow me home?”

Seojun found himself choking on thin air. “Wh—What?”

In the few minutes they spent, Seojun’s mind had already gone wild with fantasies. But not even in the wildest ones would he have dared considering Taeyeon taking him home.

“No? I knew it, it’s too strange to ask a client I just met to follow me home…” the adorable pout adorning her lips and the crestfallen expression on her eyes twisted at Seojun’s heartstrings.

“No! It’s not—” Seojun, with all his might, tried not to get his hopes up. If anything, she just proved herself to have pure intentions. “—it’s not that—well, I mean, it is a little weird, but I still trust you.” Even as disarmingly sexy Taeyeon was, Seojun had his inhibitions. What if she was secretly insane? What if she was just leading him to his doom? Seeing Taeyeon’s elated expression vaporized every last one of thoughts, leaving but one thin strand of doubt and self-preservation lingering. “But, um, what are we going to be doing?”

“Oh, don’t worry! I’m not like a psychopath or a serial killer or anything, it’s just I can’t conduct the test here with what we have.” There was something about her chipper, excited attitude that annihilated that last strand of hesitation. “Oh, and don’t worry about the test, it won’t hurt. In fact, I think you’ll like it quite a bit.”

There it was again. That mysterious, mischievous, sexy gleam in her eyes: a predator eyeing its prey. But as soon as it appeared, so quickly did it disappear, leaving Seojun to wonder if he was just seeing things.

“That sounds great. Are we going right now…?”

She nodded, walking past Seojun, grabbing his hand along the way. His heart skipped another few beats at the feeling of her pillowy, warm hand sliding into his own, her delicate fingers locking around his hand. “Depending on the results of the test, I’ll decide on your training regimen. Did you drive here?”

The question went right over Seojun’s head, too preoccupied with staring at the impossibly smooth hand gripping his. Shortly after, he noticed another more delectable piece of eye candy in the corner of his eyes. His attention summarily shifted towards it: Taeyeon’s softly swaying hips, her shapely butt, molded nicely by the black yoga pants she was wearing, amping up his heartbeat so much he could hear the frantic pumping of the organ in his ears.

Taeyeon’s delightful giggle again reached his ears, Seojun’s concentration breaking, his face turning a deep shade of pink when he looked up to see Taeyeon stopped, head turned around and looking directly at him. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude, I—”

“It’s quite alright.” At this point, Seojun had to be sure it wasn’t just him. That same gleam shone again in her eyes, this time mixed with a bit of a playful sparkle. “Did you like what you see?”

Again, Seojun was left bewildered. Wasn’t Taeyeon about to scream at him for objectifying her? Unless she was attracted to—no, there was no way that was the case.

“Y-Yes,” he admitted, his gaze locked fiercely to the carpeted floor of the empty gym, the tips of his ears undergoing the inferno of his embarrassment and shame. “You have a very nice body.” There was an immense desire to lift his head just a little bit to catch another glimpse of what lay in front of him as they continued walking; it felt as though someone placed a super magnet on his chin and another on the ceiling, but he fought it with every ounce of willpower he had.

This wasn’t like him. Sure, he was a virgin and never had a girlfriend, sure he masturbated regularly to the idols he looked up to, but he was never so disrespectful to a woman when she was right in front of him. What was wrong with him?

“Thank you!” Seojun, again, found himself surprised; Taeyeon’s response of gratitude was so sincere, he almost believed that Taeyeon wasn’t the least bit angry or disgusted or fed up with his behavior. “As I said, did you drive here?”

“No, my apartment is within walking distance.”

Taeyeon nodded in satisfaction, continuing to walk, her hand still firmly linked to his. Seojun let himself get pulled along, his eyes fiercely trained onto the ground, not daring move his eyes up even one millimeter. “We’re taking my car. It’s a bit of a long drive, so I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I didn’t have any other plans for today.”

“How about tomorrow?”

As often as Taeyeon was catching Seojun off guard, one would’ve thought that there was a point at which he would stop getting surprised. Her follow up question was not that point. “Hm? Tomorrow?” It was only then that Seojun raised his head, making sure to lock his eyes on the silky hair on the back of her head. Wow, it looked so soft, like … no. He wasn’t about to let himself slip down another rabbit hole of fetishization of a woman he met not minutes ago.

“Hmm, never mind~” she sang, pulling the door open, a blast of cold air greeting them. “Let’s just do one thing at a time.”

“Ok.”

Hearing his stiff reply, Taeyeon let out a deeper, fuller laugh—jarring to be sure, but equally adorable and endearing. “Why do you sound so professional?” She turned around, Seojun quickly diverting his gaze. She cupped the hand attached to her with her other hand, rubbing it gently. “Did me catching you staring at my butt embarrass you?” To this, Seojun only gave Taeyeon a curt nod, sending her into another explosion of giggles. “There’s no need to be shy about that! There’s nothing wrong with appreciating a fine ass, even I do that from time to time. Come on, my car’s nearby.”

Hearing her hearty reassurance and her genuine smile was all Seojun needed to open back up; although he still struggled with looking at her while in the car, they made light talk in the hour-long drive to Taeyeon’s residence. In that time, Seojun learned that Taeyeon had already experimented with many different jobs (which reassured him that she wasn’t the early-twenty-something he feared her to be) before settling on this one as a personal trainer, and how she liked the job because it gave her the opportunity to work with people from all walks of life. The idea of Taeyeon working with other men unsettled him, which he knew was bizarre since he had no right to be protective over a woman he didn’t even know last week.

Seojun then shared about his job at an IT products company, how the work was rather mundane but interesting in its own little ways. Upon further prompting, he told her about his education, how he majored in engineering, how he had trouble finding a job at first and how he had to live at his parent’s house because of it, and how relieved he was after finally being able to move out and how going to the gym was the first step of his plan to truly grow into adulthood.

Although her attention stayed on the driving, Seojun could tell Taeyeon was listening attentively by the way she occasionally nodded while he talked and how her gaze landed on him whenever they pulled up to a red light. It was nice, so nice that Seojun had to repeatedly remind himself to not get his hopes up, that Taeyeon was just a really kind woman and that these things didn’t mean she was into him. But it was so difficult, every time their eyes accidentally met and she would shoot him a dazzling smile and his heart would just leap out of his chest, he felt his grip on reality slipping further and further away.

Thankfully, they arrived at her residence before that happened, and when they did, Seojun’s jaw dropped. While it was no mansion, it was certainly bigger than most houses he’s seen before, not to mention how large and fenced off area was: the nearest neighbor had to be at least 500 meters away on each side. “Here we are, home sweet home,” she announced, pulling into the garage. Was she rich? It certainly seemed so. Seojun was just happy Taeyeon didn’t seem to mind his blatant sexual harassment from earlier, lest he spend a few years in jail with the power and influence she could probably wield.

Seojun followed the tiny beauty inside, unable to help but notice a distinct lack of furniture. While the dining room had a table and chairs, the kitchen equipped with stools, there seemed to be not much else: it gave off the vibe of being not very much lived in. Another thing Seojun found a little strange was how completely unaffected the frail-looking woman seemed to be by the cold weather despite wearing clothes that exposed her entire midriff, both shoulders Taeyeon stopped at what appeared to be her living room. “Here we are.”

“Um, should I wait here while you get your things?”

“Hmm?” Taeyeon’s eyes bore into him, so much so that a shudder inadvertently traveled down his spine. “Things?”

“I-I mean, your, um, your, uh, testing … stuff.”

Kang Seojun didn’t know why he suddenly unable to speak, nor did he know why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable and hot. To his chagrin, he could feel his erection spring up with life, to which he uncomfortably shifted under the ardent gaze of the older woman, embarrassment flaring back up.

“Hmm, but I have everything I need,” her voice lowered as she closed in on him, Seojun unable to even stumble backwards, his entire body inexplicably frozen. She raised herself on her toes, placing her head right next to his ear, whispering the final two words, “right here.”

This time, a powerful shiver jolted throughout his body like an electric shock, Seojun letting out a barely audible gasp. Taeyeon’s hands made contact with his arms, a jolt of electricity shooting out from the point of contact, a moan escaping the red-faced man’s lips as she transitioned slowly from rubbing his arm to his shoulders back down to his chest where her supple breasts lightly pressed against him.

“T-T-Tae-Taeyeon, what—what are y-you doi-doing?”

“I’m testing you,” she replied in a soft, sultry voice, her eyes never once leaving Seojun’s downcast ones. “You said you thought I had a nice body, didn’t you?”

At this point, Seojun felt like he barely had the ability to speak, hindered by his arousal and excitement and anticipation, but equally so his anxiety and confusion and embarrassment. There’s no way someone like Taeyeon, someone who undoubtedly could take pick of the litter amongst men she wanted to have sex with, would choose an average person, a virgin, like him. So why him? Was she teasing him?

“Well?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Tell me, Seojun…” her deep, sultry voice almost seemed to echo inside his head. At the moment, he felt no different than what he imagined an injured antelope would feel trying to hobble away from a ravenous lion. “…do you want to feel it?”

Kang Seojun was awkward around women, he would say, but even he had caught onto the signs of what was happening. Even still, hearing the words coming directly out of Taeyeon’s mouth was a completely different matter. It was only then that Seojun locked eyes with Taeyeon, something that proved to be a fatal mistake.

All it took was the one glance, and he felt completely and utterly hypnotized. The rapid pounding in his ear of his heartbeat, the warm feeling of her hands along his chest, her sizable breasts brushing against his upper body, every sensation he was feeling felt like they had been simultaneously amped up to 11 and dulled down at the same time.

“Y-Yes.”

Taeyeon smiled even wider at his response. “What a good boy you are…” she cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek. Seojun flinched, the cheek burning at the point her lips met it, as if someone had poured lava on his face. He didn’t even register that Taeyeon had taken a few steps back until he caught some movement in the corner of his eyes.

Black wings sprouted from her back, unfolding with the sound of a soft flutter, like a bedsheet being unfurled from the dryer, and stretching many arm lengths out on each side. Horns simultaneously sprouted from her head, a thin tail springing out from behind and wound around her legs like a snake. “Mmm,” she groaned, the wings spreading out, following the motion of her outstretched arms, her tail likewise straightening out. When she pulled her arms back in, the wings and tail followed suit. “That’s better.”

In that confusing swirl of emotions he was feeling, fear suddenly joined them. “Wha—Wha—you—your—wings, tail—…are you a demon?”

Taeyeon laughed heartily at Seojun’s completely dumbfounded expression and response. “Mmhm.” Seojun thought he was going to regret making such an accusation and almost tried to take back the words as soon as they left his mouth. What he was not expecting was for Taeyeon to confirm it so quickly. But, despite what he was seeing, despite what was right in front of his eyes, he still couldn’t believe it. “More accurately, a succubus.”

Kang Seojun’s mind spun until he was left light-headed. A succubus? That certainly explained a few things, except for the small detail that they didn’t exist. Succubae were just myths, folklore legends created by lustful men who tried explaining away their infidelity to their wives, or something like that. But they didn’t actually have basis in reality. Right? … But how else was he to explain the body-length, midnight-black wings anchored to Taeyeon’s back, the dark brown horns growing out of her head, and the tail swishing about her feet?

“Come here.”

The way Taeyeon purred the words out struck him; they resonated inside his mind, not so much a suggestion but an order he felt extremely compelled to obey. Seojun felt his feet drag across the floor, his eyes locked onto the winged, tailed, horned woman—demon—before him. He stopped when he felt Taeyeon’s hands reach down to grab his, the tail whipping around and resting on the backside of his legs.

“You smell so sinfully delicious, it was a real stroke of luck that I managed to find you,” Taeyeon cooed while leaning into him, her surprisingly strong tail pulling him forward. The bewildered young man stumbled forward into the seductress’s arms.

Feeling Taeyeon’s breasts more firmly against his body and her hands wrap around his torso went by almost unnoticed by the now properly and utterly terrified man. “Delicious? Wait, you-you’re going to eat me?”

Seeing his wide-eyed reaction, Taeyeon couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “No, silly. I’m a succubus. When I refer to something smelling ‘delicious’, I mean your semen.”

Hearing the word coming from her was one thing, hearing the provocative way she said was another, but realizing the, in retrospect, obvious implications of it positively blew away any semblance of fear he held, his arousal coming back in full force.

He groaned under his breath, the raw amount of lust he was experiencing overwhelming him all at once. “My-my what?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent with me, boy.” Her tone took upon a more playful attitude, a playful smile teasing at her lips. “You’ve been imaging what it’d be like to fuck me since you first laid your eyes on me.” Seojun was speechless, only feeling his ears burn a shade brighter. “I admit that was me trying to prime you, although I was impressed with your ability to quell your thoughts even after I grabbed your hand. Most men wouldn’t be able to resist at that point to the degree you did, you know. Especially not virgins like you.” Usually, Seojun might’ve taken that word as an insult, but there was a certain way Taeyeon said the word, the way she seemed to treat the word with respect and even seemed to revere it somewhat, that made him think otherwise. “I really tried my best—well, almost tried my best, but the most I could get out of you was a couple of stares. That’s impressive; I haven’t seen anyone with as powerful a resistance to me in five centuries, maybe six.”

Seojun didn’t know what it was with Taeyeon’s words, but the confident way she spoke them while holding about her a dignified maturity, Seojun found himself immediately believing them: that she really induced those out-of-character lustful thoughts (which, honestly, Seojun was all too willing to believe; he was willing to take any explanation if it meant that he indeed was not that desperate), that his resistance really was impressive, and that she was at least a few couple of hundred, if not a couple millennia, years old. That certainly explained the mature sophistication she seemed to exude and the supremely confident body posture she always had, even when standing a half head shorter than him.

“I think you should be rewarded for your hard work, shouldn’t you?” Taeyeon’s suggestive purring was too much; Seojun could barely contain himself. He was so aroused, he didn’t know what to do with himself: his knees were shaking, his heart palpitating, his penis painfully erect, the muscles on him limbs tensed, it was like he wasn’t even in control of his own body anymore. However, somehow, he wasn’t jumping her, and found that it wasn’t his own willpower that was holding him back but Taeyeon herself. Taeyeon, who looked to weigh 15 to 20 kilograms less than himself minus the wings and horn, was holding him in place so tightly he couldn’t move a muscle. “Would you like that? For me to reward you?”

It was this that allowed him to understand that Taeyeon was in complete control, and while Seojun might’ve ordinarily been inappreciative of his first sexual encounter with a woman controlling him so thoroughly, the fact that it was Taeyeon meant the thought barely phased him. “Please.”

A wicked grin befell Taeyeon’s face, this time that predatory gleam shining proudly and clearly in her eyes. The lion had finally sunk its powerful teeth into its prey. “Good answer.” Her tail tugged down his pants and boxers in one motion with the strength of two hands, Seojun’s boner springing free, proudly prodding her cottony frame-hugging pants. He didn’t even think about this until just then, but his insecurity about his size popped up along with his erection.

“Sorry, it’s small…”

“Mmm mm,” Taeyeon replied, patting his cheeks reassuringly, “Size doesn’t matter to a succubus. We adjust to our partner’s size. That way, we can enjoy the dick of any man without qualms.”

Maybe it was the simple fact that Taeyeon was reassuring her, or maybe it was the firm way she did so, but Seojun felt the burden of not being able to please her dissipate. “O-Oh, that’s good.”

He suddenly felt a rush of wind and, in the next blink of an eye, Seojun found himself sitting down on the couch that was previously behind Taeyeon, the succubus kneeling between his legs, her hands firmly placed on his thighs, her face situated a good meter or two away from his manhood. Her wings floated behind her in a more tucked position; definitely less intimidating, and now that he was starting to get used to it, a strangely arousing sight. “Mmm, fuck,” the lyrical moan sent another anticipatory wave of arousal into Seojun’s body, “You smell so good, I can’t wait to feel your hot semen down my throat. You better be prepared, Seojun, because I’m going to wring your balls dry.”

His dick strained even harder against his body in reaction to the filthy words leaving Taeyeon’s shimmering, luscious lips. “Shit,” Seojun muttered, his fists clenching tightly at his sides, seeing her eyes clouded in lust trained fiercely onto his veiny cock. He wanted to do nothing more than to take Taeyeon’s head and shove his dick inside her mouth, but with the strength and speed Taeyeon just demonstrated to him, he wasn’t about to take any chances with her.

“Be a good boy and cum lots for me, ok?”

“Wait!” It was while Taeyeon’s hands were closing in onto the hardened organ between his legs that a thought suddenly occurred to him. She stopped, big eyes peering up at him, her tail swishing around in excitement also freezing in place. “I-I’m not forfeiting my soul for this or anything, am I?”

Taeyeon giggled again, tickled by the overactive imagination of her prey. “No, nothing like that; souls are the territory of other demons. All you’ll lose is some semen, which you’ll have replenished by tomorrow night anyway.”

Seojun nodded, Taeyeon taking that as a go-ahead to continue. Her palm was the first thing to make contact with his engorged member, to which Seojun let out a loud moan, his brows furrowing at the sight of her small hand rubbing the length of his shaft, its delicate fingers gingerly making their way around its circumference. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, his legs tensing and his toes curling as another wicked grin appearing on Taeyeon’s face as both hands firmly grasped his cock and gave it a few pumps. “Fuck,” he moaned, unabashed in the ecstatic pleasure shooting up his spine. All the lonely nights spent by himself paled like the light from a firefly to the blazing afternoon sun in the face of the beautiful seductress kneeling before him, her expert hands inducing an amount of pleasure he didn’t realize was possible.

Taeyeon leaned her head over, her wings casting a shadow on his legs, hovering her mouth just centimeters above the swollen tip of his dick, gathering saliva inside her mouth and dribbling it onto the sensitive sex organ. “Ah, shit,” the moan inadvertently escaped Seojun’s lips, the warm liquid slathering onto his cock sending an electric shock into his entire body. A shudder rolled through up his torso and down his arms and legs, his dick twitching in kind at the sudden contact. Taeyeon smiled in satisfaction at his reaction, using her hands to coat his manhood with the viscous, translucent bodily fluid. Seojun moaned again, throwing his head back in pleasure, his fists tightly clenched at his sides, the ecstasy coalescing into the precum that dribbled out of his dick.

Upon seeing this, Taeyeon’s eyes shone with glee. “Oh, how kind of you; an appetizer, just for me?”

Seojun whipped his gaze back down just in time to see Taeyeon’s head dive down, rubbing her hot tongue across the tip, collecting every last drop of pre-ejaculate onto the pink muscle before planting upon it a quick kiss. Seojun hissed, his body jumping at the sensation, his breaths turning into pants. Taeyeon’s hands never once stopped pumping, gliding along the slick length of Seojun’s cock thanks to the lubrication provided by her mouth, her throat flexing as the first bit of her meal traveled down her throat. Taeyeon’s eyes widened, freezing momentarily, her entire body experiencing a rolling shiver of ecstasy. “Fuck, that’s so much better than I imagined,” she groaned, her voice full of lust and impatience. Her eyes crossed, an even more fierce look of lust clouding her facial expression, her hands resuming its prior task with even more ferocity than before. Seojun let out a surprised yelp, another jolt of electricity caused by another wave of ecstatic pleasure causing his entire body to jump. Tilting her head down again, she reapplied the warm lubricant, Seojun jumping again at the feeling of the warm, viscous liquid coating his cock.

“Mmm, you’re so close, I can feel it,” she cooed, her face drawing closer to the erect member trapped inside her warm hands, gliding along its length with ease. “You want to stuff your veiny cock into my mouth and shoot your seed down my throat, don’t you? Wouldn’t you like to do nothing more than to fill my mouth with your hot cum? I offered you a reward previously, but don’t you want to collect it already?”

“Yes, please…” Seojun half grunted, half moaned, his willpower teetering on the edge of abandoning all notion of ‘rationality’ and ‘self-preservation’ to grab the succubus’s head and force it all the way down his pulsating erection.

“Why don’t you do whatever you want with me then~” the smiling seductress sang, the soft, seductive sound seeming to sway about ceaselessly inside his skull.

Taking the suggestion—or directive, Seojun couldn’t tell at this point—as an indication that he could take the reins, both hands shot out and grabbed fistfuls of her silky, silver hair and pushed her face downwards, directly onto his awaiting penis. “Mmph, fuck—” the initial entrance of his penis into the wet warmth of her tight mouth sent a series of ecstatic shudders of pleasure all throughout his body, his fingers tightening around the silky locks of hair, but soon was amplified at the feeling of her skillful tongue wrapping around his length, that warmth from feeling her saliva dribbled onto his cock now spread across the entire surface area of his penis. Her head obediently bobbed up and down with the rhythm of his thrusts, her wings moving in conjunction with their lust-charged movements. “—fuck, god, you’re so good—” he could feel the familiar sensation of a building orgasm on the horizon, the sensation only pushing him to thrust harder and faster into the lustful demon’s mouth, abandoning all pretense of embarrassment for orgasming so quickly. “Taeyeon, shit, I’m close, I’m so—uugh!”

Letting out something between a yell and a moan, Seojun’s hips pushed his cock as far back into the waiting mouth of the satisfied succubus, ropes of his thick semen depositing directly into the back of her mouth and down her esophagus. Taeyeon’s lips were tightly sealed around the perimeter of his cock, her throat flexing impressively as she gulped down every stream of his seed in stride, making sure not to waste a single drop of the immaculate sustenance. Only after the last of his ejaculate emptied into her mouth did she let go of her vice grip of his dick.

Her breath deepened, her wings flaring out, her entire body burning with life, as if someone had just splashed her with a bucket full of ice-cold water as she was about to doze off, her entire being consumed with an even greater lust and desire. Seojun’s grip on the back of her head loosened, his body slumping against the couch listlessly, grimacing as Taeyeon came up for air and licked the entire surface area of his cock one more time for good measure. “Mmm, I haven’t had such a good feast from a human in so long.”

“I’m glad—w-wait, Taeyeon?”

Seojun’s eyes widened as he watched her snake her way up his body, straddling his waist with her luscious thighs, her hands sneaking under his shirt and, with a firm tug, ripped it clean off his upper body. “I want more,” she whispered. It was only when Seojun felt Taeyeon rub her wetness onto his leg that he realized Taeyeon had already taken off her pants, her tail looping behind her and pulling the last bit of clothing left off her body.

“Oh god…” the words spilled out of his mouth, arousal returning with force upon seeing her perky tits spill out of the restrictive material. The combination of that and feeling her hot, sticky juices rubbing dangerously close to his groin caused his erection to flare back to full tilt. Now that they were naked in front of him, adorned at the peaks with pink, hardened nipples, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away. Of course, he had seen boobs in pictures and videos before, but seeing them in person, and that they were Taeyeon’s, was a completely other story.

“You like them?” She teased, shaking her upper body playfully, the bountiful mounds jiggling deliciously in response. Seojun simply nodded, to which Taeyeon replied, “You can have them after giving me a second helping.”

Without warning, Taeyeon lifted her hips and plunged her vagina down onto Seojun’s cock.

“FUCK!”

Seojun’s back arched all the way, his head involuntarily thrown back, the loud sound pushed out of his throat as the surge of pleasure overtook his body.

“Congrats on losing your virginity,” Taeyeon whispered to him, cupping his face gently before pulling him into a fierce kiss.

Seojun felt paralyzed by ecstasy, her soft and warm lips smothering him and massaging his own, the tight, hot walls of Taeyeon’s pussy slathering his already slick cock with other bodily fluids, her vaginal lips depositing her fluids onto his crotch with every hot connection of their groins, drenched with the honey of the domineering woman. Taeyeon’s movements were ferocious, her naked tits pressed firmly into the young man’s bare chest, her lips and tongue overpowering his in an instant, her hips propelling her tiny frame up and down the ex-virgin’s dick. Seojun’s hands naturally found themselves cupping her round, shapely ass, an action that only spurred the succubus on more. Taeyeon’s tail crawled up his right arm, softly guiding the fingers of his right hand towards her puckered, unoccupied hole.

Taeyeon broke the kiss, Seojun barely able to see amidst the sea of pleasure and lust he was drowning in. “Are you ready?”

“For—for what?” The split second after he spoke, he felt the two fingers nearing her other entrance melding together, elongating into what he somehow knew was another penis. “What the fuck?”

“What are you waiting for, my ass isn’t going to fuck itself,” Taeyeon quipped, grinning at the adorable, perplexed reaction of the young man below her.

His arousal soon drowned out his sense of reasoning, and the suggestion was all he needed to completely disregard the anomaly of a second penis inexplicably growing from his two fingers. Instead, he quickly found the unattended hole and plunged it inside.

“Shit, shit shit, fuck, oh my god—” Seojun let out a barrage of swears, the added feeling of Taeyeon’s tight asshole joining the already overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation of her pussy clamping on his cock. Taeyeon’s back arched, pushing her voluptuous breasts further against him.

“Mmm, fuck…” Taeyeon’s melodic moans soon joined the chorus of Seojun’s own moans, adding onto the layer of arousal that was starting to overwhelm his body fatigued by the first orgasm. “…do you want the third one to be a pussy or an asshole?”

Before Seojun could ask, the fingers on his left hand similarly started to meld together, elongating into another firmly erect penis. “Uh, um, I-I don’t know…” He could barely process the question, much less dedicate the brainpower needed to make a decision.

“Hmm, another pussy it is.” Again, her tail guided the newly formed cock into the space just above her asshole, soon meeting another pair of flopping wet pussy lips, eagerly awaiting its guest. Without hesitation, Seojun pushed the third member into her third orifice, the resulting explosion of pleasure causing him to blackout for a brief moment.

“Mmm, you like that? Feeling two pussies and an asshole fucking your cock at the same time? Feeling my hot, tight walls on your dick?” Taeyeon’s hot breath heated up his ear, Seojun rendered completely unable to speak from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure assaulting every fiber of his being. “Your cock is hitting my cervix with each stroke, god, fuck, I feel so fucking full with three of your cocks fucking me so hard. Yeah, hmmph, fuck all of my holes harder Seojun, pump your dick deep inside me and fill all three of my slutty holes with your thick cum.”

While Seojun could feel his arms start to give way, he pushed through. The looming feeling of a following orgasm drove his body wild with adrenaline, his arms burning with the strain of pumping so furiously into the wanton woman. His chest heaved with the huge gulps of air his body demanded, Taeyeon’s erect nipples poking firmly at his skin at the apex of each breath. As he neared his orgasm, he could feel both his own and Taeyeon’s movements grow more erratic. The previously cold room now felt blazing hot, the only sound to be heard being the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, the chorus of their combined moans of lust, and the ruffling sound of Taeyeon’s wings moving in conjunction with the movement of the succubus bouncing ferociously on Seojun’s cock. He could only muster a grunt in warning before he exploded all at once, all three holes sucking up the delectable meal at once.

“Uunggh, fuck,” Taeyeon exploded simultaneously, the ecstasy overwhelming her superhuman senses, her hands vacating the back of Seojun’s head and onto the cushiony backrests of the couch she crushed inside her grip, a tsunami of juices flooding out to match the streams of semen flowing into the satisfied succubus. “God, oh my god, fuck, it’s too much…” she panted, even after Seojun’s orgasm subsided, her entire body burning hot with the acquisition of such fine sustenance.

Seojun, on the other hand, was completely and utterly drained—he lost all ability to move, his untransformed arms dropping to his sides and his head onto the backrest of the couch. It was almost scary, how little strength he had left: it felt like he was half-dead, barely having the strength to open his eyes. He never felt this drained after masturbating, what was going on?

“Ah, fuck, Seojun…” Taeyeon remained panting atop the corpse of a man that remained below her, still trying to take in the influx of ecstasy from the consumption of three simultaneous loads of Seojun’s cum. “…ah, god, I’m going to cum again, holy fuuuck!” The panting moan transformed into an ecstatic scream, another tidal wave of lust and pleasure washing over the demon lost in her own desire. Her body vibrated violently against the lifeless man, sending his cock awash with a second tsunami of her nectar.

When her orgasm finally subsided a minute later, Taeyeon collapsed onto the taller man, her head resting on his shoulder. “Oh my god, I haven’t orgasmed so easily in so many centuries, but never before in my millennia of living have I orgasmed twice from one feeding. You should be proud, Seojun.”

When he didn’t respond, Taeyeon lifted her head to see the lifeless, pale expression in his face. “Oh my god! I—I’m so sorry, I forgot you were—oh my god—…”

When Seojun next regained consciousness, he found himself laying on a soft bed, wrapped up in a warm, thick blanket. His consciousness immediately started to drift off again when he realized that something felt wrong: his bed wasn’t this soft.

His eyes opened and he jolted awake, his eyes scanning his environment to find a naked Taeyeon laying beside him, watching him with a bemused expression. “Good morning, Seojun,” her honey warm voice eased the panic in his voice. It wasn’t long before he found his eyes drifting onto her perky tits and the firm, pink nubs sitting atop their peaks, feeling his erection starting to grow once again. Noticing this, Taeyeon giggled, sitting up along with the equally naked man. “You really like my tits, don’t you?”

He blinked, turning his head away, his face red. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize, you can look at them all you want,” she insisted, her soft hand reaching out and gently caressing his cheek. Seeing Seojun’s eyes close with content like a puppy cuddling up to its owner brought a smile to Taeyeon’s face. “I’ve decided. Why don’t you become my pet?”

The idols that are to appear on this story are something that you can influence! If that is something you're interested in, go to this link and scroll down a little to the 'Foreword' and follow the instructions listed.

Otherwise, lemme know what you thought, and thanks for reading!

Link to next chapter here.

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei ‐ better for you

a/n: a request for anon that definitely took me too long to write T-T i'm terribly sorry for the delay .... also this strangely reminds me of my first ever fic on this account (which was also abt tsukki) so it's kinda silly :33

summary: tsukishima is jealous and not exactly good at hiding it.

warnings: none, pure fluff

tsukishima has been awfully quiet since you arrived at the training camp.

it's not like that was an unusual behavior from him - he was naturally a quiet, introverted person, so anyone with a basic knowledge about his personality would assume it's perfectly normal. but you knew better.

he was your boyfriend, after all. even if quiet and rather reserved, he would continuously taunt you with his snarky comments and witty remarks, almost twice as much as he would his teammates. but for the last two days or so, his demeanor changed; there was something that ticked him off, and, contrary to his beliefs, he was not good at hiding his jealousy.

figuring out the reason behind it was a no-brainer.

tsukishima adjusted his glasses as he observed yet another guy walking up to you, and he could already recite the way this conversation was about to go from memory. he stood next to yamaguchi, back resting on the outer wall of the gym, eyes staring daggers into the fukurodani jersey of the boy trying to hit on you. but of course, he didn't do a thing about it, instead opting for a low, annoyed huff.

you could see him from where you stood, and a sigh left your lips as you saw his eyes dart away from yours the moment they met, the blonde boy wasting no time in walking away to a spot where he wouldn't have to see the situation in front of him.

the boy in front of you, whose name you've found out to be komi, fukurodani's libero, kept on babbling about something, but you've stopped listening a while ago, quickly excusing yourself to follow after your boyfriend.

'wait.' you said, voice just loud enough for tsukishima to stop in his tracks, head turning around to face you, waiting for you to continue what you wanted to say. you caught up with him, eyes squinting a little as you looked up because of the sun positioned right behind his head. 'are you really jealous of all these guys?'

'no.' he rolled his eyes, a classic sign of frustration from him, almost as if he intentionally tried to show you that despite his words, he is indeed annoyed with them.

'i can clearly see that you are.' he didn't answer you this time, silence taking over as he avoided eye contact with you, acting more childish than ever. you couldn't help but smile, hand reaching out for his with a gentle squeeze. 'you know that they could never steal me from you, right?'

silence.

'oh, come on, you're sulking like a five year old baby right now.'

'says the one who acts like a baby all the goddamn time.' his remark made you crack a smile, happy that you got him to talk. 'it's annoying. and it's not like i don't trust you either. it's something different.'

'hm?'

he let go of your hand, taking a few steps forward, the setting sun hitting his face as he stared into the magine in front of him; the hill he had to run up and down at least five times that day, barely noticeable roofs of homes situated not far away.

'don't you think that at least one of them could be, you know.' you already knew what point he was trying to make, and yet hearing it from him made your heart break a little. 'better for you?'

a moment of silence passed, the chirping birds being heard from away.

'no.'

he could hear the sound of your shoes hitting the ground with each step you took towards him, your arms gently wrapping around his torso from behind, face nuzzling into his back.

'look at me, tsukki.' hearing your words, he slowly turned his head around, only to be met with your lips already on his in a sweet, short kiss. 'listen carefully, alright?'

'i'm.' kiss. 'not.' kiss. 'going.' kiss. 'anywhere.'

he couldn't help but smile at your actions, breaking out of his aloof persona for a split second, hand searching for yours to hold it tenderly.

'besides,' you added, lips curving up into a sly smile. 'none of them could give me the same level of sarcasm that i love so much.'

you continued smooching his lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, trying to cover his entire face with kisses.

'alright, alright.' he mumbled quietly, pulling you away as he adjusted his hair. 'don't be so touchy here, though. not that i don't like it, it's just-'

'i knew it!' you recognized the voice behind you immediately, and tsukishima's shocked face only confirmed your suspicions.

'let's leave the lovebirds before kei kills us with his death stare, bokuto.' another familiar voice was heard, and as you turned around, you immediately noticed the spikey black hair and kuroo's tall frame.

as they ran away, shouting a familiar rhyme of 'y/n and tsukki sitting on a tree', you couldn't help but laugh, resting your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. he didn't look half as content as you, lips in a straight line as if he just got caught doing something so utterly embarrassing he would never recover from it.

'if they continue this, everyone will know.' he mumbled, back to his usual, annoyed tone.

'look at the positives, kei.' you nudged him on the shoulder, smiling up at him. 'at least now no one will flirt with me anymore. no more frustrations for you.'

and maybe you were right.

or maybe you weren't, as he found out later, when the information of your relationship got to the ears of his overly excited upperclassmen.

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita @haechansbbg @luvvrgirll @serotoninbarbz @sugaraddict301

[chlorinecake]

Imagine slow but rough sex with Jungwon cause he found out that you were not being yourself.

"Baby's not feeling well, hm?

"yeah, fuck everyone. But, I can fuck you up harder"

"Insecure? Baby, you got a pussy that can make any man pray"

"Cry over my cock instead, yeah?"

Fuck Now, Talk Later | Y.JW

▹ PAIRING : soft dom! bf! jungwon x subby! gf!reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SUMMARY : Just Jungwon fucking your tears away with a bit of rough COMFORT SEX because you’re too pretty to cry over anything other than his cock.

▹ CONTAINS : ⚠︎ swearing, kissing, praise kink, pet names (angel, kitty, good girl), unprotected sex (cowgirl variations), mild dacryphilia, mentions of insecurities, reference to cigar use

▹ WORD COUNT : 2.2k — special tags for my fellow won-girlies @candewlsy and @theothernads ⋆.˚

Your eyebrows that were once screwed into little bows of frustration atop your face had finally popped, a stream of tears spilling over your cheeks as you ran straight to your bedroom, where you sobbed your sorrows into the sheets…

It wasn’t long before your boyfriend Jungwon realized you had got back home from hanging with your friends already, though…

Standing up from his reading nook in the living room, he went off in search for you, following the hushed sounds of your cries all the way to the bedroom.

And there you were… curled up into a tight ball of sadness as you sniffled beneath the sole comfort of your zip-down hoodie, hiding your face from him.

“Aww,” your boyfriend started gently, walking over to sit beside you on the mattress… “What’s the matter, hm?… Baby's not feeling too well?…”

You felt his hand caress the dip in your waist now as you laid down, but it only made you tense up, feeling worse for burdening him.

“N-no, Wonie… I just hate crying like this… especially in front of you…,” you managed to say, trying to give him a hint that you wanted to be alone for a few moments, but he persisted anyways.

“You never have to hide your emotions from me, love…” Jungwon encouraged, briefly breathing against your cheek before kissing the skin there, “It’s important that I see these parts of you, too, y’know?…”

You had been dating Jungwon for a little less than a year now, and one relationship goal that has always been the same for him was prioritizing your comfort.

He wanted you to be okay with sharing all types of intimacy… not just the parts that involved sex.

Naturally though, your boyfriend was never really an emotional person, and yet he strived to become better in that aspect because of you… because he knew there’d be a time where you needed that emotional comfort from him more than anything—

“Please, ____,” Jungwon’s voice sounded from behind you, “just tell me what’s wrong, baby…”

You sighed at his pleading before answering, not meeting his eyes only for him to scan your face anyways, admiring how lovely your teary eyes looked in this moment.

“I don’t know, Wonie… I guess I’ve just… I haven’t been feeling like myself, lately…”

“Ahh… so you’re telling me my pretty girl has got herself all worked up over insecurities again?”

“Well- it’s not just that… s-someone said that I’ve changed for the worse…”

It was earlier while you were hanging out with your friends…

One of the girls there, who you remembered as your former smoking buddy, had some pretty nasty things to say about you once she found out you had been trying to quit using.

“Yeah, you might’ve quit the pen, but all those lingering nerves are making you eat yourself to death, now… just look at your legs… they’ve gotten so big since the last time we spoke…”

Sighing at the memory, you sat up on the bed now, looking back at Jungwon’s stoic expression that spoke a thousand words for itself as he went on to ask:

“Are you seriously gonna let those empty words get you upset like this?…”

His hand was on your thigh, distracting you from answering at first until you decided to simply shake your head at his question, feeling the tears erupt within you all over again.

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you croaked with a squeaky voice, feeling yourself hiccup a bit from sniffling so hard, “I’m so sorry for being this way…”

For being your dysfunctional, basket-case of a girlfriend, you wanted to add, but the words got caught in the anxious web of your own mind, a spider feeling as though it’d just crawled down your throat as you continued bullying yourself in your head.

Jungwon had never seen you so sad before, and the way you just leaned into him while sobbing into the crook of his neck made his heart sink and swell at the same time.

The moisture from your face peppered his shoulders as he gently caressed your back, cooing within the sullen air.

“Don’t apologize when you did nothing wrong, ____,” he demanded with a whisper, pulling away from the hug to look in your face, “you understand me?”

You nodded again, making him smile softly as he kissed away the tears trailing your left cheek, his free, sweater-gloved hand wiping the other side.

“I just wanna feel better, already… regardless of what other people think of me,” you say as the end of his sleeve kept patting at your tears.

“And you will,” Jungwon went on, tilting his head at you with a thumb running over your lower lip. “Fuck those people and their opinions, ____…” he said, kissing you on the corner of your lips but only going in for more once you hummed in approval.

But of course, the tears came back, and you’re not sure why, but they wouldn’t stop.

“It’s okay, angel… let it all out,” Jungwon whispered against your lips, but you turned your head, letting your back find the mattress and covering your face.

“I … I can’t, Wonie… I hate feeling like such a crybaby over the smallest of things,” you sniffled, vision blurring with the amount of tears spilling over the edge of your lash bed now.

“Move your hands, love… I don’t like it when you hide your face from me…”

You look so gorgeous when you cry, your boyfriend wanted to add, but decided not to let his dirty thoughts thrive in this moment…

He opted to lay down beside you instead, joining your flat posture on the mattress before trailing a hand from the top of your knee and up to the point where the skirt you wore was hiked up over your hips now.

And yes, you weakly tried to swat his hands away, but he persisted, pulling your skirt back over your curves before hooking his first finger at the hem of your black, lace panties.

“You can always cry over my cock instead,” he whispered in a low voice now, his offer drawing you back to the present and out of your thoughts as the feeling of his hand inching closer to your core made your thighs tense up.

“W-Wonie~” your breath hitched, his fingers feeling cold against your warm skin as you failed to meet his lustful gaze.

“No no no, look at me… tell me how you want me to help you feel better, yea?”

With the last bit of willpower you had, you let your puffy eyes flicker up to meet his face, shuddering as you felt your panties slip lower and lower from their original position.

“I don’t really know what to say, Jungwon,” your voice came out below a whisper, your anxious thighs squeezing together as if it’d help hide the expanse of flesh from his eyes.

But his eyes weren’t looking there, anyways, being more concerned with the expression on your face than anything.

“Want me to help fuck all those tears away, kitty?... Is that what my pretty baby needs?”

And just like that, you felt it… the fiery rush in your stomach letting you know that it was only a matter of time before he had you bouncing on top of him, begging for more…

But as much as your body wanted to say yes, your mind was still making you feel insecure, especially as your panties were completely gone at this point, your hesitant body still trying to ease into his touch as he sat you in his lap.

Jungwon let his hands caress over the bow you tied around your thighs as your weight sunk into the straddle… your beautiful, soft, and perfect thighs…

Your hands found his shoulders for leverage, right as he kissed the center of your lips, humming at the way you clung to him now.

Your nose was still a bit stuffy from crying so much, so the kiss ended up being a lot sloppier than usual which only helped to turn you on even more.

“Such a good girl,” Jungwon muttered breathlessly as you suddenly broke from the contact, watching as you got to work on freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

Climbing back over him, you simply hovered over his length, kissing him one more time on the lips before sliding him into you, tensing up a bit at the sensation.

“Mmm,” you hummed, feeling his hands push your thighs down just to help speed things up a bit.

And it didn’t take long for you to start moving once he was fully inside you, those pretty feline eyes of his becoming heavy at the relief his cock found in your pussy.

Letting his back fall against the bed, Jungwon kept his hands at your waist as you continued bouncing on his cock, a red hue blushing to your cheeks now as he started playing with your boobs.

“You’re taking me so well today, baby,” your boyfriend whispered in a low voice while squeezing the flesh of your tits in his hand, “always look so pretty while bouncing on my cock…”

You whimpered slightly at the painful feeling coupled with his dirty words, clenching around his member as the pace of your hips grew faster with your need.

“W-wonie~” you began to say, holding onto his wrists as his hands stayed cupped around your breasts.

“What is it, baby?” He asked in an almost cloyingly sweet tone, taking one of his free hands and pinching your cheek to make you blush even more.

“W-want you to fuck me, Wonie… p-please,” you whine in between feeling his thumb find the inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue as you finally meet his eyes again.

“You gotta be more specific, kitty,” he says, catching on to the way you visibly sulk at his words, “how does my pretty girl want to be fucked?”

As frustrated as you were starting to feel with his teasing, you couldn’t help but keep bouncing in his lap, practically drooling over the way his tip felt sliding against all the best parts inside you.

“Need you to be rough with me, Wonie,” you manage to say breathlessly, eyes tearing up now at the rollercoaster of emotions, “need you so bad—”

“Shhh… I’ve got you, baby,” Jungwon cooed, moving his thumb from your mouth and swiping the moisture from your eyes, “gonna help you feel so much better…”

You felt his touch guide you against his stomach now, your face resting in the crook of his shoulder as he held you against him with his strength, thrusting himself inside you.

And you almost couldn’t believe that he was starting off so fast, gripping a handful of your hair as tiny grunts fell from his lips, your eyes pricking with moisture as he kept pounding into you.

“God, p-please… go harder,” you whined out weakly, only to moan as his grip on your hair tightened, a string of curses falling from his mouth as his hips snapped into you even faster.

“Let me see those pretty tears of yours again, baby… let me know how good I’m making you feel…”

The sound of skin against skin would be impossible for anyone outside to ignore at this point, especially with the way you kept whining for him...

“Feels so good, Wonie,” you cried out, feeling the band in your stomach tighten as your climax treaded closer and closer to spilling over the edge, “need you to make me cum so badly…”

“Already?” Your boyfriend asked with a slight chuckle to his tone, even though he knew he wasn’t gonna last very much longer himself, “my pretty girl is always so needy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Y-yes, yes,” your voice came out in erotic moans as your pussy throbbed with a burning need.

Only a few more seconds had passed before you were squirming on top of him, his hands having to hold you down given how much your body trembled.

“Nghh,” Jungwon’s voice followed right after, just as the feeling of his release coating your walls became obvious to you, a string of mumbled praise slipping from his mouth.

And all you could do was whimper at your boyfriend’s words, both of your hips riding out their highs as his lips found your face, kissing away the tears there as you melted into his touch.

Eventually, he let his dick slip out of the comfort of your warm hole, caressing your back as you returned a kiss to his lips, missing the closeness already…

“Feel any better?” Jungwon asked, a faint smile creeping upon his delicate features as you adored the sight of him in your own heart.

“Thanks to you, yes,” is the last thing you remembered saying in that moment, your tingly legs still straddling his lap as fell back into his embrace, grateful to have a boyfriend as perfect as him…

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Thanks to everyone who read this quick little fic! If you're interested, feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more works like this !!

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr @sussyjake

[fuxuannie]

* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader

* prompt : drabbles abt hsr charac's and smth they like abt u?? idk im having brainrot spare me <\3.

* authors note : this was a cute idea, lowkey made me miss having a crush HAHAHA. if this does well i promy on my left toe ill do a part two (REAL).. maybe ooc, i'm just brainrotting huhu

DAN HENG was.. oddly uncomfortable but comfortable with the feeling of liking you. You two hadn't been together long, but the short amount of time had him noticing all the little quirks that you'd do, how you'd tap your pencil whenever you were stuck on a problem, the routine you had every morning and the little notes you'd leave for the trailblazers inside their rooms.

The part that made him feel a little iffy was that.. he wasn't used to being like this. He was never the type to care much about the quirks and habits of people, but considering the amount of time he spends with you (and staring at you), he can't really blame himself. He was absolutely smitten for you, so maybe those changes weren't so bad.

"You're so cute." He chuckles as he leans on his doorframe, catching you red handed as you stick the 'anonymous' sticky note on his desk. (Everyone figured it out it was you since you were the only one who wouldn't recieve one.) "Heyy, how did you catch me?" You say with a giggle, as he walked towards you and pulled you close from your waist. "The little things about you give everything away, my love."

Saying that MARCH 7TH adored you was an understatement. She absolutely LOVED being with you, all the time, everywhere. She'll be clinging onto you like a koala and if you're busy or Welt tells her to stop being so affectionate she'll pout and cross her arms. "Why can't I be with my partner?!" She'll say with an annoyed tone, "Because you have a mission, March." Welt would reply, rolling his eyes as you only chuckle in amusement.

You already knew how clingy she'd be, and infact you loved that about her, it was so sweet with how much she cared. She'll take and shoot thousands of arrows for you, to protect you and make sure you'll always be safe and happy to cuddle her before sleeping.

Speaking of which, shes in your arms, softly snoring as you two snuggle closely on her bed. You can't believe she's yours, the most pretty, bashful and caring girl in the universe. And she loved being with you the most.

BRONYA frowned as she stared at the clock in her office, 9PM. She was still forbidden to go home, and knew how lonely it must be for you. She was your lover, but could barely find time on most days to be with you. "It's okay!" She remembers you saying, but she can't help but feel guilty imagining all the times you slept alone in a shared bed.

The sound of her door creaking open caught her attention, and she watched as you peeked your head through the door and giggle. "(name)?!" She says with a shocked and confused voice, watching you open the little sling bag that you brought with you and pull out a lunchbox. "Eat. I know you haven't eaten." You demand, putting the neatly put together meal that you made for her.

Even if you had done this so many times, it still surprised Bronya every time you had these little surprise visits. "Dear.. I appreciate all of this but it'll be late if you leave now-" But a puzzled expression is plastered all over her face as she watched you make a little comfy sleeping corner with a pillow and a hood you were wearing as a blanket.

She sighs at your stubborn nature, knowing she won't change your mind. You notice her pulling up a chair and putting it next to hers, she sits down and pats her lap. "You can.. try and see if that's more comfortable." Finally, her worried gaze turned into a smile as you're eyes sparkled in delight. Before you sat down, you plant a kiss on her cheek and lay down on her lap.

"I love you, Bronya."

"I love you more, (name)."

Dating JING YUAN might be the hardest quest you've accepted, the DOZING GENERAL was on quite a handful of lists of men that parents want their daughters to marry. And hell, they've even tried throwing their daughters in his way, but he's effortlessly avoided them all. As you were the only person who had truly mattered in his heart.

He knew that his popularity can be.. suffocating. Even when he was simply courting you, he asked Tingyun to stop selling photos of him, so you'd know that he was completely serious on being a better man than he ever could be for you. But that alone can't stop the delusions of obsessed women, and Jing Yuan spent no time reassuring you that you're the only one who gets to hold his heart and say it belongs to you.

In a crowded area, his eyes never stray far from your figure that stands next to him and holds his hand. Despite the whispers, or the fawning women (and men), his eyes were locked on yours and his gaze wasn't going anywhere.

During his meetings (where he'd sometimes be dozing off..), he'd notice how you'd actually be paying attention and smiles at your adorable serious face like the most smitten man he is in the galaxy.

You can generalize it and say that Jing Yuan has made it so painfully clear to everyone that he was inlove with one person, and had no intentions of entertaning anyone else.

HERTA, despite her puppets scattered everywhere, her main body was always nervous when it came to being around you. Maybe you were used to it, always seeing her around, but she had not quite been used to human to human contact in a while. It's natural the way she tries to brush off the way she profusely blushes after your fingertips brush against her, because she's not used to spending so much time with someone as herself. She can't just pretend something isn't there anymore, because around you, she's just an absolute mess.

You watched Herta as she works on yet another puppet for the station, putting a hand on her shoulder as she jolts at the touch. "Hehe, no need to be startled. It's just me." You tell her, but she pouts a little in response. "I am an utterly perfect being. Little things such as that do not invoke fear in me."

Humming as a response, she finds it hard to find any interest in her work now. Why would she? You're right next to her, and you were far more interesting and pretty than any of the other things she's created.

She leans on you and you look down at her, "Hm? Have you lost interest in it already?" You ask, already familiar with her habit of losing motivation in a task when uninterested. She looks up at you and smiles a little. "How could I not when you're here? I might even say, you're the most interesting thing in my entire life."

GEPARD was a man who thought that loyalty was to be earned, not given freely. So when he had met you, his heart knew that no one was as deserving of his loyalty than you. You were apart of the Silvermane guards, and so naturally he was your leader. On the first day, you were very kind to not only Gepard, but your fellow guards as well. Many believed you were the kindness that the Silvermane guards deserved but never recieved, and he couldn't help but agree.

When you two began dating, he never noticed how much softer he had gotten. The way his gaze lingered on you when you left the room, the gentle kisses he'd plant on your cheek, and the way he enjoyed making you flustered. Those things were actions that the Captain didn't know he could enjoy, until you had come into his life, and practically changed the trajectory of it.

You were rambling on about something, and as usual Gepard sat next to you and listened. Smiling a bit at your excitement of whatever you were so passionate about, eventually his gaze went from your eyes, to your lips and at that realization he nervously looked away and stared at his shoes as if the most interesting thing in the world.

"Gepard? Are you alright?" You noticed how he he had looked away, and he was silent for a few moments before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips, something unexpected considering you were both in a public space. When he pulled away, a clear blush decorated his cheeks in such a color that made him look so pretty. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

SAMPO adores messing with you, little teases to get you riled up. (but never taking it too far.) How could he not? When you have such a pretty expression when you were getting teased. But other than that, he was surprisingly domestic. He liked cooking for and with you, washing clothes, eating together in the morning and generally just liked doing house work with you.

You'd wake up to breakfast in bed more often than not, and a smiling Sampo waiting for you to wake up in the side opposite to you. "Good morning, sleepy head." or "Good morning, sleeping beauty." on other days, he was such a sweet man to you, to a point you were unsure of what you did to deserve him.

And he knew you thought of that, so every night he'd whisper all the little things he grew to love about you. His own little way to let you sleep without a heavy heart.

You were the child of a swordsmith, YANQING adored swords. Need I say more? You two loved to go on and on about different swords, how they're made, how they're used and the history. Yanqing loved to talk about this with you, as many people thought he was almost crazy for his love for it, but you never judged him. That little thought alone made his heart flutter and eyes sparkle in adoration.

You let him be the little excited nerd he was whenever you invited him to your job, admiring the photos of different swords you helped make on the walls and if he was good, you'd make him a new one to take home.

"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He'd gush, admiring the newly forged blade in his hands as you chuckle a bit at his excitement. "Your welcome, love."

[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

[overtake]

I’m sorry we need about 5k more words of mechanic Daniel driver max pls and ty!!!

Part One

I’m actually so shocked (but pleasantly surprised and honored!) by people enjoying this verse because I almost deleted it without posting. I don’t have 5k more, but I can offer 1.2k!

I still lowkey hate this - and you can definitely tell I have no vision for where this story would go, hence why it’s just harping on the same 3 details we already knew - but it’s all yours and I hope you have a good time reading it anyway :)

Five minutes into pretending to examine an engine instead of obsess over what Max said, Daniel breaks.

“Did you mention me to Max?” he asks Cyril, trying to come across casual.

Cyril looks at him disbelievingly. “Max Verstappen is in our garage and you think I talked about you at all?”

Daniel lifts a hand to his chest and feigns being shot. “People love me, you know. Guys are all over this.”

Cyril heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “Get to work, Daniel.”

Daniel’s lucky, given his condition, that everything is relatively routine today. He does three oil changes, and he could kiss those people’s feet for it.

He’s mentally preparing himself to slide under a car, wincing at much more congested he’ll be once he emerges again, when Max suddenly appears in the corner of the garage.

“Hello,” he says. He does a cute little half-wave to get Daniel’s attention.

“Hey,” Daniel says, straightening and rubbing his grimy hands on his thighs. “Cyril’s working on your car, so he’ll have any updates you need.”

“It’s not my car, just a rental,” Max dismisses. “No, I just have …” He cuts himself off, turns a sweet pink on the apples of his cheeks. “You sounded sick earlier and looked really pale. I brought you soup.”

He lifts a takeaway bag from the cafe down the street, which usually specializes in ten dollar lattes and sandwiches with names so cutesy, you have to practice five times to order without shame.

Daniel smiles at the idea of Max Verstappen, world champion, saying one of those horrible names for Daniel’s benefit. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you. Let me pay you back.”

Max shakes his head. “It’s my thanks for fixing the car.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “So what soup did you get Cyril, who’s actually doing that?”

Max scrunches his nose in disgust. “You cannot expect me to say the name Noodle Nest Paradise more than one time.”

“How many times did you laugh trying to get that out?”

Max shudders. “I pretended to speak really bad English and just pointed at the menu.”

“So you could’ve ordered multiple,” Daniel points out. Max very blatantly pretends not to hear. He focuses instead on pulling a little bag from the order and holding it up proudly, smiling a crinkly-eyed smile.

“I got you crackers!”

Eating soup with Max Verstappen is an out of body experience.

Daniel’s been eating his soup over the coffee table in the office because it felt wrong to make Max sit at the grimy, wobbly table in the closet-sized corner of the garage where Daniel and Cyril usually change and scarf down meals. This, however, means they’re stuck together on the loveseat. Max’s expensive skinny jeans knock knees with Daniel’s greasy coveralls when they get too into the conversation.

Daniel knows he’s being a terrible conversationalist, especially at first. His normal easy charisma is buried somewhere in the pile of tissues he’s burning through. He’s basically just answering Max’s rapid-fire questions about his life, his job, his family, his non-existent partner (“do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?” Max had asked, and looked remarkably pleased by Daniel’s answer of no).

Daniel’s about 87% sure he’s being hit on right now. It’s a nice confidence booster given how much of a mess he looks, but it’s not like it matters. Max is Max, and Max is F1, and Max doesn’t live here.

He likes Max, though, the longer they talk. He likes his eagerness, his down-to-earth nature, his total lack of interest in discussing racing. Max delights in all Daniel’s behaviours that usually make people roll their eyes and wait for him to be done, whereas Max leans into Daniel’s dumb songs or drawn out jokes. He likes the long lashes that frame Max’s bright, happy eyes, and soft double chin he gets when he ducks his head into his laugh.

Daniel’s not sure how much time passes before Cyril comes in, but he knows his voice has faded to practically nothing, and he’s having to constantly turn to avoid coughing on Max.

Cyril’s timing is rather unfortunate, entering just as Daniel breaks into a particularly rough wheeze. Max is patting his back gently, which Cyril will definitely have words about later. Presently, however, he seems too concerned about Daniel’s wellbeing to lecture him about appropriate contact with famous customers.

“Daniel. Go home,” he orders, voice kind but firm. His tone leaves no room for argument, not that Daniel really wants to fight him on it. He’s enjoying this, but his brain and body feel as if they’re wading through a pool of thick custard.

“Are you okay to drive?” Max checks. His eyebrows are knitted in sweet concern, like Daniel actually might keel over and die in the ten-minute ride home.

“All good,” Daniel promises. He stands, then promptly has to collapse back onto the couch when black spots dot his vision.

“I’m driving you,” Cyril says firmly.

“I just stood up too fast.” Sure, he’s a little woozier than expected, but he could do this drive blindfolded and half-dead.

“I’ll drive you,” Max says. “I mean, Cyril has work to do, but I’m just sitting here.”

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me or steal my car?” Daniel rasps.

“He’s not worth kidnapping, and selling his car probably couldn’t cover an oil change for the kinds of cars you drive,” Cyril informs Max. He ignores Daniel’s protests, then pushes Daniel back down to the couch when he half-rises from it.

“Stay. I will get your keys and bag.”

The second Daniel’s brain understands that he’s off-duty, that it’s no longer expected to carry him through the day, it mostly blacks out, and everything is a blur from there.

He’s pretty confident Cyril steals his phone to call his mum, which is vaguely embarrassing but perhaps necessary given his current state. He knows Cyril gives Max directions to Daniel’s parents’ place instead of his own. He feels Max’s hands help him into the passenger seat, and he definitely mutters some fever-addled sentences on the drive. That’s about all he remembers until he wakes up in his childhood bed, shivering and sweating while his mum runs a hand through his hair and forces medicine down his throat, before he falls back asleep again.

When he finally comes to enough to make his way downstairs, he finds his parents seated at the kitchen table. His mum jumps up, forces him into a chair and fusses over him while simultaneously lecturing him about going to work sick. His dad just sits there, eyebrows half-raised, until Daniel is settled with food and water.

“So. You had an exciting day at work.”

He slides a piece of scrap paper across the table. There, under some advertisement for gardening services, is a scrawled message in red pen:

It was lovely to meet you (again). I hope the terribly named soup made you feel better! :)

- Max

Under his name, Max has scrawled a phone number.

Daniel runs his finger over the lines, feeling the imprint of each number that Max etched into the paper. It’s neatly written, far more cautious and intentional than the rest of the words, as if to ensure that no digit could be misread or smudged.

Daniel pauses, processes the full note, and double backs to the word ‘again.’

“Yeah,” Daniel croaks through the stabbing pains in his throat. He stares at the word harder, like it might reveal what the fuck Max means by again. “I guess today was pretty interesting.”

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#61 Part 3

Danny was kind of in awe at the Batcave. Of course he hadn’t seen it, he never met his father either and really wasn’t looking forward to the conversations he was about to have with everyone here.

He looked around while Batman watched until he cleared his throat and motioned for Danny to follow him. They eventually made their way into a conference room where Red Robin was already sitting typing something away on his laptop. He smiled and stopped what he was doing when he noticed Batman and Danny walk into the room. 

“You do look just like Damian! Well I guess you are Damian in your universe, you said you came from an alternate world right?” Red Robin started as Batman and Danny took their seats at the table. 

Danny took a deep breath before he started talking, “Yeah, but I don’t go by Damian anymore.”

Batman and Red Robin seemed surprised at this, “Wait really?” Red Robin asked, looking genuinely surprised, “Your counterpart here really prides himself on being Bruce’s blood son.”

Danny remembered being told how great Father was by Mother but the fear of being found alive after he fled made it impossible for him to find out. He knew he should probably get back to his own dimension but the thought of getting to know Father even a little bit and even from another universe made him rethink getting back as soon as possible. 

“I… fled the League, I went into hiding, so I changed my name. I’m sorry but we’re strangers in my world.” Danny finally said after gathering his thoughts. He waited a moment but when no one said anything he continued, “You can call me Danny, I live in a small town called Amity Park in my world.”

“What else can you tell us about your world? If we can figure out what got you here we can figure out how to get you back,” Red Robin asked.

Danny thought about how much he should say after a moment. He could tell his counterpart here did trust his Father, he could tell from his body language from their brief encounter. He decided after a moment it would probably be fine to reveal himself here, if the him from this world trusted them then he would too. 

“This isn’t easy to tell you but I’m not getting back the way I came. The portal that got me here was one way.” Danny started, “There are natural portals that kind of pop in and out of all worlds that lead back to the ghost zone or Infinite Realms as I've heard it called by some of the ghosts.” 

He let them soak in the information before continuing, “The folks that adopted me built a portal to this realm and while I was in a fight I got thrown through a natural portal and ended up here”

Red Robin seemed to raise his eyebrow at him, “Ghosts?” he asked skeptically. 

Danny sighed again, “Yes, I don’t have an easy way to get back is what I’m trying to say”

Batman thought about things for a moment before speaking, “You're welcome to stay here until we can get you back home, I have a colleague through the Justice League that would know a thing or two about the supernatural. We can talk about things in the morning for now let's get some rest. It sounds like this will be a long term thing, so I will have Alfred take you in the morning to get some clothes and basic needs.”

Batman stood up and left the room probably to change out of the batsuit. A few seconds passed and then a knock on the door was heard and an elderly man wearing a suit walked in.

“Master Tim, Master Damian, Isn’t it time you both got ready for bed?” He asked.

“Oh right, Alfred, meet Danny, he’s Damian from an alternate world.” Red Robin said before standing up, “I’m headed out to change out as well. Danny, Alfred can show you to the room you’ll be staying in while you’re here.”

Danny turned to Alfred, “If you’ll follow me, Master Danny”

He followed the friendly butler out of the room and up some stairs before they got to the main floor. They turned down a few different hallways, honestly Danny would be more worried about getting lost if he didn’t have years of training navigating complex paths. 

When they finally got to Danny’s room they parted ways and Danny headed in.

It was a rather large room, larger than any room in the Fenton house that was for sure. Danny often forgot how rich his blood family was and now that he was here he was in awe of how different it was to his own life. The room even had its own attached bath. Danny took a warm shower before changing into some Pajamas that were left out for him. 

Eventually he drifted off to sleep. He’d explore the mansion and Gotham tomorrow.

Master Post:

Last:

Next:

[n3ptoonz]

Ok ok ok we got the boys getting walked in on soooo what if Earthrealm boys walked in on US?

i knew somebody would have this idea 😈 REVERSE REVERSE 🔄

these are gonna be drabbles instead of bullet points

implied scent knk mention, sphinx can't stick to a theme to save her life

Scorpion

Kuai Liang was shocked at first, but quickly understood. He's gone a lot and knows that. He's not upset at all by this, what gets the job done in his absence is what he roots for, but he'd still rather be the one making you sound like that. Lowkey is impressed with how well you must've been going at it too. 'Have I ever made them sound like that...? Hold up-' he thinks. Once you see him and are like woahh when did you get here he's like "Curiosity got the best of me, I'd like to help if you'll have me." as if you weren't already jumping on him before he finished his sentence.

Sub-Zero

"You just couldn't wait, could you?" Bi-Han said, standing over you. You jumped at the sight of him looming over your almost fucked-out glow from your own hands and splayed out on the couch; just how the fuck was he so quiet?! As you nervously try to explain, thinking he's actually upset at you, he interrupted you again by grumbling and picking you up to properly escort you to your shared bedroom. He laid you down and got on top of you, pressing himself between your legs. "I'm not angry with you. I just wish you had waited." he said before letting himself hang free. "But I don't mind finishing the job."

Kenshi Takahashi

When Kenshi checked out where the noise was coming from, he caught you grinding against a lounge pillow with his shirt over your nose. Once your eyes opened and saw him standing in the doorway half shocked half into it, you kicked the pillow off the bed and sat up. "No, no, please, don't let me interrupt." he teased half jokingly. Honestly he could see himself encouraging the concept. He has many duties to attend to, so who would he be to tell you not to tend to yourself? He walked further into the room with a more serious look on his face, he really wanted to apologize he couldn't always be there, but since he was now there's nothing stopping him from helping his lover out.

Smoke

Tomas was beyond flustered. He planned to come over to your place and cook together to make up for lost time since he's often very busy. He had a key to your house so he naturally just walked in, set his stuff down, and went to go find you. "Hey, you ready to cook-" cue a Disney studio audience gasp. After like a full 60 seconds of him stuttering over his words he apologized many times before you stopped him. You offered for him to help you out, and now he was pushing down his own immediate boner, but a simple 'yes' sealed the deal for the both of you.

Johnny Cage

This sexy fucking prick. Unbeknownst to you Johnny just sat and watched from the door of your bedroom, truly fascinated by how needy you were for him. Before you could even reach a semblance of climax, here he waltzed in all smug, "11 times." he said. You gasped and threw the covers over yourself, asking what the hell he's on about now (you're used to him popping up unannounced). "You said my name 11 times, new record babe." He knew your next remark would either be witty or frustrated, so he spoke again. "Ah, ah, ah, let's make it 20."

Kung Lao

Kung Lao is also another sexy fucking prick, but a little worse. You have been walked in on before but not thwacking the noodle or flicking the bean, something less crazy like changing, and yet he still was a teaser. You recalled if he was coming over today and reached the conclusion that he would have no reason to, so you got to work. Silly silly you, Johnny and Lao are known for showing up out of nowhere, you knew that! So there you were doing your thing, and boom, Kung Lao pulled up and caught you by accident. He had no regrets though, all you saw looking at you was a smirk, clear idea on his face, and his signature dimples smiling back.

Raiden

Look guys idgaf what anybody feels or says, I can say he's baby while also knowing a lot, obviously. Raiden is a grown ass man with a dick and balls, but he's never walked in on someone before. Me personally I believe he'd be in shock, and he was. Why? Not only because he walked in on AND interrupted your own time, but you were whispering and moaning his name too. Like Smoke he'd be shifting where he stood trying to control his aching boner, but surely once you gave him the okay to enter your room, hell, even touch you? Game fucking on. He's still nervous but wouldn't let that stop him!

Liu Kang

Liu Kang may be a God, but obviously he cannot tell the future. He just created the world and tried to maintain peace as much as he could. He can predict things, and that included what you were doing while he wasn't there. He figured with how much he was gone it wouldn't be surprising if you took matters into your own hands, and he was right. He slowly rounded the corner to the sight of you using some kind of toy and muttering incoherent words that lead to his name somewhere in there, but it didn't bother him. In fact, when he made his presence known he offered to help including the toy if you wanted.

Geras

Lowkey I don't think Geras would know what to do. He doesn't interact with mortals much technically outside of Liu. So like, if you were waiting for him back at his chambers especially when he took so long to come back due to business, he'd be stuck in his tracks. He'd say there's no need to apologize but rather explain your desire to him so he could fulfill whatever void was left in his absence. I feel like he'd be reassuring too if you were embarrassed and happily make your wishes his command.

a/n: OKKAAAYYYYY i got this out FUCK writers block and periods and life IS A BITCH and ik i recycle the same stuff but like hey, it works🥱

[fredwkong]

Himbo Maker: Misha

Misha was an Egirl: a European Guy In Real Life. He would do his makeup, put on fake eyelashes, a wig, and a pair of pink headphones with kitty cat ears, and stream video games online. He loved to troll new viewers by spending an hour or so doing a breathy, feminine voice, and then suddenly hit them with his natural Baltic baritone. The way the chat went crazy made it worth it every time.

The whole game was helped by how petit and curvy Misha had always been. Even in his twenties, he still had a soft, almost girlish body and stood at most of other guys’ sternums. Too bad he wasn’t a trans girl, or at least a gay boy, he sometimes thought, looking at his body in the mirror. Gay guys were supposed to go for little guys who looked like him.

One evening, Misha was just starting his stream when some user started acting really weird in chat. He had a username that almost seemed familiar to Misha, but the guy he was thinking of had always been polite and given insightful comments on Misha’s gaming. This guy’s messages were full of typos, and he couldn’t seem to stop talking about his muscles.

Misha was just about to ban the guy when an alert sounded: Misha’s charming, girly laugh, which indicated a user had just donated a hefty sum. Of course, it was this annoying brodude.

“Uh,” said Misha, almost forgetting to put on his femmy voice, “He says, “Bro, this guy liek wants to chat wiht u on stream.” And there’s a link in the donation.”

Clicking the link, Misha found himself looking at a chat website he’d never seen before. “Hold on, let me share my screen,” he simpered, sharing the chat window. Somehow, his usual screen name was already in the bar. It must have populated from his stream.

Mish-kittycat: Like, heyoooo! You okay with being on stream with me? (✿◠‿◠)

Himbo_mkr: No way, bruh! I love meeting new bros. Like, hi stream!

Misha was a bit offended that this chat partner would refer to him as a “bro.” But stream chat seemed interested, so he thought it could be worth a few minutes to humour the donater. It had been a fair amount of money.

Mish-kittycat: What do you want to talk about UwU

Himbo_mkr: Bro, you know that all I ever talk about are my sick gains and going out with guys, lmao

Okay, so this was a troll. They probably wanted to get Misha banned for lewdness or something. Still, at least it was original that the troll character was a gay guy. He rolled his eyes at the stream and said, out loud in his girl voice, “Looks like someone got mad enough to pay to speak with all this.” He gestured down his slim body in tonight’s outfit, a stereotypical Japanese maid costume.

Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, bro, you clicked on the link. Didn’t force you to do it.

Misha froze. Of course the troll was watching the stream. “Heh, I don’t let meatheaded bullies boss me around,” he chirped, trying to save face.

Himbo_mkr: You sure? You sure like it when your chat bosses you around, bro.

Now this guy was just lying. Misha scowled, even though he knew the expression would make his foundation crack unattractively. “This is a really weird way to bully someone.” He looked at the stream chat, waiting for his subscribers to back him up.

But the character of the chat seemed to have changed. No, they had always been bossy, Misha suddenly remembered. They would tell Misha how to play his games all the time while he pretended to struggle. It was a key part of the dynamic of his channel that chat bossed him around, and right now they were telling him to go back to chatting with this guy. One guy even messaged, “No more talking, kitty. You’re only allowed to write in the chat.” Misha gave the camera a plaintive look, but listened. He always listened to his chat.

Mish-kittycat: So maybe you’re right about that one thing, but coming in here being rude is totally uncool (งᓀ‸ᓂ)ง

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was just tryna compliment you on your sick bis, dude.

Misha cocked his head, confused. He was the opposite of buff, that was why he was so good at dressing as a girl. But as he continued to think about it, he remembered all the hours he spent working on his arms. He kept a set of weights next to his bedroom door, and he did bicep curls to failure every time he went through the doorway. Yeah, his biceps were his pride and joy, and they were usually how he showed off his manliness when he revealed his deep voice and accent.

A tip came in. “Flex for us, kitty,” commanded the text-to-speech voice. With a smirk, Misha lifted up one of his arms, feeling it stretch the sleeve of his maid costume as the veins popped. Too bad the rest of his body hadn’t followed his arms and gotten bulky.

Himbo_mkr: We’re all waiting for you to drop your lifting routine, bro! You’ve been totally blowing up.

Misha blushed at the flattery. His physique wasn’t all that impressive. Sure, now that he thought about it, he had been really hitting the weights a lot and eating right. In fact, his room seemed to be full of lifting clothes and supplements as he looked around. But that was because some of his subscribers kept telling him to get to the gym and hit his macros. It had actually been really freeing to just let people pay to tell him what to do on his fitness journey. And it was paying off! Misha definitely couldn’t pass for a girl these days, which was why the channel had changed to be more about doing stuff in-game for the highest bidders.

The maid costume barely wrapped around Misha’s broad pecs, and the garters had torn when he’d tried to pull them up his thick thighs. Sure, it had been funny when the stream started and the chat had gotten Misha to show off his shoulder raises while dressed in a little maid skirt, but the polyester was really starting to chafe on his smooth muscles. It was a relief when a tip rolled in while Misha flexed and said “Kitty, wear comfy clothes.” The chat oooohed and aaaahed as Misha shucked the maid costume, showing off his bulky chest, and pulled on his favourite comfy shirt instead. Sure, it had some tears and stuff, but as a masculine guy, Misha wasn’t worried about dressing up fancy or anything.

The guy whose chat Misha was streaming had been quiet, so Misha hopped back over and sent another message.

Mish-kittyhunk: Thanks man! It’s all about trusting the process.

Himbo_mkr: I can tell that you trust people, bro! You’re like a puppy lmao.

Well, Misha thought, maybe he did like getting bossed around in chat, but it wasn’t like he trusted everyone blindly! Okay, well, maybe he did tend to stop to help people on the road and then lose his wallet a lot. They looked like they needed help! And maybe he did sometimes click on links that meant he needed to take his phone to the store for them to fix, but so did everyone else!

Looking at the chat, who were all laughing about Misha being a totally trusting puppy, Misha had to finally agree. That was why one of his subscribers had gotten him this headset with floppy dog ears on it, after all.

Mish-puphunk: Haha, you got me, dude! That’s why I clicked on this link, too XD

Himbo_mkr: It’s okay, bro. Lots of gay hunks are pretty dumb, it just adds to that himbo appeal.

This time this guy was definitely making stuff up. Misha was totally straight, he just didn’t do well with girls. Well, that and being a submissive hunk online mostly attracted a gay male fanbase. And, well, now that he thought about it, when was the last time Misha had really thought about a girl? Like, maybe if it was a domme? But no, even then, Misha would really prefer a guy to be involved at some point. This guy was probably right, Misha was gay.

It was super hard to think. There was a reason that Misha preferred to let chat do the thinking for him. Even before he realised how much he loved to listen when men told him what to do, Misha had never been much of a deep thinker. That was why most of the stuff in his room was gym gear, gaming stuff, or whatever his subscribers bought for him. Lately, they had been really loving when Misha wore even less clothes and showed off more of his growing body, and Misha was happy to oblige as long as they kept telling him what to do!

Mish-puphunk: Lol I guess you’re right! I just wanna give sirs what they want

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I totally get why you love pup play so much. You just love being obedient and dumb and empty lmao. You, like, pretty much live in your mask these days.

A pup mask…Misha was pretty sure one of his subscribers had sent him one of those once, but it had been really confusing to put on and he’d only worn it once. No, wait, that wasn’t right. Misha was such a ditz! He’d loved the experience of putting on the pup mask and letting himself be a dumb pup for his chat. And chat had loved sending in tips to give him commands like “sit,” “roll over,” and “stick a tail in your hole.”

It had been so popular that the subscribers had told Misha to make it a weekly thing, then a biweekly thing, and by now it had pretty much become what Misha did during his streams. While chatting with this guy had been fun, Misha really wanted to get on with the stream and mask up. He opened his mouth to tell the viewers that, but then remembered that he had been ordered not to talk. Too bad, chat would only hear his deep, resonant voice if they ordered him to bark after he put on his mask.

Mish-puphunk: Okay dude, I gotta go be a good dumb pup now.

Himbo_mkr: Got it, bruh! You got a bunch of hunky doms to please by being a good pup slut!

Chat cheered as Misha stopped streaming the chat window and winked at the camera. An especially hung dom who loved to tip had won the bid war last night to decide what Misha wore, so Misha fondled the straps of his leather harness as he got up to grab his mask. He wondered what his chat full of muscular, horny himbo doms would have him do today.

Misha slipped on the mask and let his mind go blank.

[maryleclerc]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧

pairing: charles leclerc x reader ; carlos sainz x reader

face-claim: gigi hadid

summary: in which after knowing about reader pregnancy, charles decided to make everything right.

warning: mention of pregnancy, exes!, paparazzi. use google translate,swearing. english is not my native language! does not have any pregnancy experience!

so i’ll made this mini series with 2 ending, one will be reader end with charles and other one will end with carlos (ofc if reader end up with carlos which mean the reason why reader and charles broke up will change too)

more importantly: reader you can suggest any baby girl name too!! or baby boy idk 😩🙏 also suggest some drama and stuff ideas!!

if you wanted to add into taglist please reply or dm me

read part 01

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55 and others

yourusername With my bestie! @/carlossainz55

View all comments

carlossainz55 Bestieeee

yewenmitle Love their friendship already!!!

roseross How can they be so cute not even trying

⤷ yourusername Born natural 🥸

dailypaparazzi

2,799,678 likes

dailymail Y/n Y/l/n and Carlos Sainz spotted having a cozy dinner in Monaco

View all comments

friendsaddictedd Oooh sound ✨ROMANTIC✨

kiearre She looks serious tho, her face

livinginthedprm Everybody saying Carlos has a crush on Y/n. HE DESERVE TO BE LOVE TOO!! they would be so cute together

f1lovelifeupdates

58,510 likes

f1lovelifeupdates Charles Leclerc has confirmed that he and Megan have broken up a months ago, after 2 months of dating. And he also confirmed that his ex-girlfriend, Y/n, is pregnant with their first child.

View comments

haileylee Ok, I don’t really care about them… all I need to know is Charles know about the baby?

charlessbaby I missed them so much!!!

ppeeeepss Megan, she’s wonderful, pretty and talent how can this happen. I just hope he’s not get back with Y/n

⤷ lovensfw Honey, we know but he’s a grown man so I think it is very important to know what’s ‘responsibility’ mean 😀 also Y/n’s PERFECTLY FINE!!!

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc,carlossainz55 and 8,610,350 others

yourusername 👶👩‍🍼💞

Hello everyone!

Recently, there have been photos of me and of course, photos of me pregnant that were unintentionally leaked. And that's also the reason why I spoke up about this, (why do I sound so serious, haha) anyway, it's been a while and it's time to share with you guys.

Since you love me, you deserve me to share your joys with you. Yes, I'm pregnant and my baby is 8 months old!! time flies, since the day I announced that I would take a temporary break for a while because I felt OVERWHELM, that actually was the time I wanted to devote all my time to taking care of myself as well as my baby, prepare to be a mommy. And I am truly grateful to all of you who have sent me kind words and wishes, I truly appreciate it!!

Love you all so much! Also, I still don't know what to name our baby, so I need your suggestions

IT’S A GIRL!! (reader also can suggest a name too!!)

View all comments

lolamckaylee Congrat to you Y/n

_josephinee Who’s the baby daddy?

⤷ ynsqueen It’s Charles Leclerc

⤷ _josephinee Wait I thought he dating someone else, and knock her up?

⤷ johnsongreen HIM AND MEGAN BROKE UP!!

carlossainzstuff_

1,681 likes

carlossainzstuff_ Carlos has mention Y/n on today “We asked Carlos Sainz what F1 fan really want to know” by P1 with Matt & Tommy.

Tommy asked Carlos if he knew that F1 fans were very curious about the relationship between Carlos and Y/n after the photos taken by paparazzi when they spend sometime at Monaco.

TOMMY: Did you know that every F1 fan here wanted to know if you and Y/n are a thing?

CARLOS: We’re bestfriend, bff

TOMMY: But there are also had that one question that has been ask alot that’s “Are having a crush on Y/n?”

CARLOS: It’s really hard to not fall for her, she’s so kind and everything. Everybody love her, how can I not

TOMMY: Yea, It’s true. And you also know that she’s pregnant right?

CARLOS: She look espléndida

View all comments

carloswifee He’s madly in love with her, NOT crushes, just LOVE

yncarlossainzs The way his eyes look at them when they mention of Y/n is wholesome, he talk about her like a proud boyfriend

ferarrilovrs__ Thinking of when they’re really dating, ahh I can’t stop kicking my feet!!

carlossainzsidechick SOMEONE KISS HIM ON THE FOREHEAD RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[ to be continue ]

( taglist ) @janeholt3 @formulas-bitch @celestialams @aundercover

[grandline-fics]

If request are open, could I ask for a pt. 2 of the siren song/hearing you sing, for Law, Marco and Ace please?

DESCRIPTION: The first time they hear you sing captivates them

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Law, Marco, Ace, Crocodile, Kid

WORDS: 2,612

A/N: Thank you for this request, I'm fond of this idea so I'm glad to revisit it with more characters. I hope you like what I came up with for these guys

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

When Law begins to ponder things he’s relentless until his curiosity is sated and the answer he sought was his. Usually these pursuits in knowledge took a small amount of time to accomplish because of how driven he would be and what he needed to know would be in one of the many hefty books in his, nestled somewhere amongst the thin papers and tiny printed words. However if the clear answer wasn’t there, at the very least his books pointed him in the right direction of an island or person who could tell him what his mind was currently fixated on knowing. This current question however could not be revealed to him through books or other masters of particular fields of intellect. No, the only person who could relieve him of this question was you. The question: what did you sound like when you sang?

It had honestly been something he’d never given much thought before. The cause for the nagging question had come one evening when he’d emerged from his study one evening and came across Bepo who was in a more cheerful mood than normal. Curious about the clear change in his navigator, Law couldn’t help but ask for the cause. It surprised Law to hear your name come from Bepo’s mouth. Then the surprise became confusion, you’d been part of the crew for a while now, why would you suddenly affect him? Obviously needing more information, Bepo continued. “I heard them sing! They’re amazing, it’s put me in a great mood ever since.”

While Law knew music could affect a person’s mood, he hadn’t seen something so strong which began to stir his curiosity more. Already he wanted to hear your singing for himself, mostly to see if the change in mood was something that happened for everyone that heard it but also because on the slightly childish reason he was annoyed Bepo had heard you sing before he had. He was aware of his attraction to you and to know that you were a singer only furthered his interest in getting to know you better. However he couldn’t just order you to sing for him, that’d be overstepping things entirely and while he was your Captain, he wasn’t going to act like you were his to order about to please his personal whims. No, if he was to hear you it would have to come about naturally. 

Sadly he wasn’t able to hear you for himself right away. With the current layout of the crew’s work patterns and the long stretch of travelling through a particularly turbulent part of the sea it meant everyone was laser focussed on their tasks to ensure the Polar Tang navigated the waters safely. This meant very little time for relaxing. For the duration of the journey everyone mostly ate their meals and went to bed in the spare windows of time they had between shifts. It wasn’t until the submarine surface at the new island that everyone let out a sigh of relief. Since you were the last one on watch you wanted more than anything to go and sleep. You could explore the island later and returned to the sleeping quarters while the others prepared for disembarking. 

Law knew the island was a peaceful one so he opted to stay behind while you slept, letting everyone else explore. He’d even let the Polar Tang stay above the water’s surface and enjoyed the quiet this rare occurrence brought. Without the echoing sound of the water enveloping the Tang, without the sounds of footsteps against the metal floors and heavy doors shutting, and without the constant whirl and hum of the engines and computers, Law found himself enjoying the  peace as he lay on his sofa, eyes closed in contentment. Then he finally heard the answer to the question. 

Through the empty corridors, the song broke out and carried itself clear and alluring. Law sat upright and looked to his partly opened door as your remarkable voice practically called to him, pulling him from his seat and urging him to come closer to the source and he went oh so willingly, it was practically hypnotic. In a blink it seemed, he was standing in the doorway leading to the stairwell that would take him to the top deck. There you sat on one of the steps, singing perfectly and smiling when you saw him approach. When the song came to it’s natural end you had a look of satisfaction on your face. 

“I’ve always been curious about how good the acoustics were when the ship was silent. Definitely better than I’d hoped.” You explained. Law couldn’t help but chuckle, glad that both of you had found the answers to the questions you’d had and that for both of you it was more than worth the wait.

MARCO

Truth be told Marco hadn’t really paid you much notice when you first joined the Whitebeard Pirates. He learned your name and face at the first introduction and some of your medical history out of necessity but because you were in Izou’s division, everything else about you was a mystery and not exactly one he’d be in a hurry to unravel. For the first months of your recruitment, polite conversation only happened in the groups and parties on and off the ship. There wasn’t much one on one time between you both so you just melded into the background for the most part, only coming into view when you were needed. As long as you were loyal to the family that was the crew, pulled your weight and worked hard that was all that mattered. 

Then after a while, Marco did begin to take a slight notice. In fights you were capable and swift, able to act without hesitation while also making sure you weren’t acting foolishly and out of impulse. Everything you did had a purpose. You also had a good sense of humour and attitude that allowed you you settle in amongst the others quickly. You also weren’t afraid of voicing your own opinion and were ready to argue your point if something disagreed with you. Sometimes he’d find himself on the receiving end of that but anything you gave him, he’d return in kind. There was no real animosity between you both, any arguments between you were swiftly settled and you both returned to your own coexistence on the ship. 

Sometime along the way, Marco began to notice that Whitebeard held a certain soft spot for you, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it came from or when but it had left him curious about it all the same. Still, he didn’t pry into Pops’ reasoning for this. Whitebeard’s business was his own, for all Marco knew you simply reminded him of someone from his past. Knowing he’d probably never know, Marco pushed the curiosity and settled his mind on the things that were important such as the care of Pops and the crew. 

Then one night when Pops’ pain had flared to the point he found himself unable to sleep and not even the soothing flames of Marco’s Devil Fruit could remove the ailment entirely, Whitebeard asked for you. It wasn’t long before the nurse that had been sent to get you reappeared with you following close behind. With a kind smile, you approached his enormous bed and sat on the edge with enough room to ensure there was space for Pops to remain undisturbed. 

“Rough night Pops?” You asked with a knowing look. 

“Could say that, or maybe I just wanted my children to fuss over me a little more.” Whitebeard grinned, always trying to reassure and keep things light. Despite his words, he dismissed the nurses until it was just you and Marco in the room with him. 

“So what will I start with tonight?” You asked gently. “Your favourite one from home?”

“Yeah, always like that one.” Whitebeard nodded, letting his eyes close so he could focus on Marco’s flames while you began to sing. 

Marco’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, so strong and yet so sweet, pulling his focus from Pops’ face to look fully at you. You controlled your singing expertly, the sound just as reassuring and soothing to Pops, the song one he’d known since a boy, comforting him as an extra salve to his discomfort. Another form of healing and just as powerful as the Phoenix who continued to look at you in awe, with fresh eyes and he couldn’t help but think it was such a shame he’d allowed you to fall into the background for so long. Perhaps if he’d given you more notice sooner, he’d have been there the night Whitebeard had heard your singing while you were perched up in the Crow’s Nest and understood his soft spot for you from the beginning. 

When you finished your song, Marco uttered out a single word. “Beautiful.” You whirled your head around to finally meet his stare, eyes widened and lips parted in surprise. Cursing inwardly Marco cleared his throat and quickly looked away from the force of your eyes that he now found just has much power over him as your singing did. “The song.” He added, trying to recover his brief slip, not wanting to make you uncomfortable around him. “Pops is sleeping now. You can go back to bed if you want.” 

Slowly you looked away from Marco and you smiled to see Pops’ chest rising and falling steadily, already fast asleep and thankfully looking more peaceful than he had been. Still you remained where you sat and shook your head. “Nah, I’ll stay. He might wake up again.” You explained before looking back to Marco smiling at him, trying not to seem too eager. “You got a favourite song Doc?”

“A few…” Marco admitted with a relaxed smile, glad you had decided to stay.

ACE

It took a lot to get Ace angry; unwarranted and unnecessary violence to innocent civilians who couldn’t defend themselves was one thing, disrespect to Whitebeard was another. When someone somehow managed to combine both things at once? He was beyond furious. His hands shook as he stared at the townspeople trying to help each other whether with medical aid or helping to clean up what was ruined and find what was still salvageable. Ace ground his teeth together and balled his hands into tight fists, flames rippling over his arms in growing fury. “I’ll fucking kill them.” He snarled, beginning to step forward.

“Woah, woah there hothead.” You quickly darted in front of him and stopped his advance towards the ruined town centre. “Take a breath and calm yourself.” 

“Calm?” Ace demanded looking at you in anger. “This is Pops’ territory and someone’s attacked it. Look behind you! We have to get those bastards back it and these people!” Only a small group of you had been sent out to the island to investigate reports of an unallied ship sailing close. By the time you’d arrived, they’d already docked and begun to wreck havoc. None of you could let this stand. It startled Ace to see you weren’t taking it seriously, instead you were fixing your anger on him. 

“Take your own advice, Ace and look behind you.” You snapped harshly. “These people are terrified. We need to support them first, they’ve had enough of seeing violent pirates for one day. Pops’ people are the priority.”

“But-” Ace’s mind began to clear slightly from the angered haze that had settled over his eyes when he glanced behind you to look at the civilians. He took a slow breath and sighed. “I just want to make them pay.”

“Those nobodies aren’t getting away, we destroyed their ship the second we docked. They’re trapped here and the others will track them down in no time. Come on, let’s do what we can here first. These people need to see friendly faces.”

Ace hated how you were right. Taking another breath he calmed himself of his outward fury and nodded, signalling you to start walking towards the town. By the time the both of you came into their line of sight, you saw their initial panic fall away to relief. The older members of the town recognising you immediately and hurrying over. From them you learned that those who attacked hadn’t realised the island was Whitebeard’s territory until the sound of your ship approaching reached them. When they learned of their mistake they fled into the forest and mountains nearby. While you were glad it hadn’t been intended to be a declaration of war against Whitebeard, their attack would not be forgiven and their fates were sealed. 

Still though, you and Ace kept your minds firmly on the people, first aiding their cleaning of the mess made. Your calm personality and Ace’s naturally charming nature swiftly allowed the civilians to relax and fall into conversation with you, leading those that had been hiding with the children to come out. Immediately the children flocked to you and Ace in excitement, knowing they were safe. You grinned to see the youngsters ultimately decide in unison that Ace was the perfect target to climb on and a laugh broke from your lips to see four children were hanging onto his outstretched arms for dear life while their legs dangled in the air. 

You were happy to see that the children had managed to distract Ace from his earlier anger just as much as he had served to erase the fear these people held. Already you could feel the shift in energy and just as you’d finished the cleaning, the others in your group appeared triumphant with the news that the pirates that had attacked had been swiftly dealt with. Now in the need to celebrate, food was prepared and furniture was assembled to create an impromptu party to celebrate and turn the bad day into a good one. 

When the food was served you took pity on the children who still excitedly clung and pulled Ace who while was having fun, wanted nothing more than to eat and enjoy the meals he could smell. The others in his group, his family cruelly taunted him by declaring how good their food tasted. You laughed and rolled your eyes, taking pity on him faster than the others. You approached one of the townspeople who you’d helped locate his missing guitar and sat beside him, asking him to play a song you knew. Immediately his face broke out into a grin, he played the quick and cheerful song and you started to sing. 

Like a flick of a switch all of the children and Ace’s heads snapped towards you, immediately fixated with the sound. Some of the adults had even started to dance to the song. In all the time Ace had known you, flirted with you, adventured with you, how had he not known you sang? Even more, how had he never know you sang so beautifully? Even with him now free from the swarm of children who’d demanded his attention he was following them to where you were seated and singing, unable to look away and completely lost in the power of your voice. There was nowhere else he could possibly find himself wanting to go.

From their spot at the table, the remaining members of Whitebeard’s pirates in the group grinned at Ace’s expression and utter captivation in you. Slowly they shook their head at how their Division Commander was obviously smitten with you. They were already aware of his feelings for you and that was before he’d heard you sing. He was powerless against you.

------------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773 , @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @chaotic-on-main

[venerawrites]

Vi reuniting with her significant-other after prison? The reader could be a mercenary, or a firelight, a baker, an artist(music and paint) just to name a few occupations they could have. I am not used to requesting, so please forgive me.

author's note: I think this request is so cute, I really loved doing it! I tis a bit angsty in the beginning, but it is fluffy at the end! <3 Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy! x

Nature always finds a way.

Even when surrounded by nothing but a cold, grey concrete, it managed to give birth to life.

Hope.

As she leaned against the wall, Vi gazed upon the big tree in front of her, focusing her attention on the gentle dance of the green leaves. Of course, she has seen trees before, in Piltover and on photographs, but never in Zaun.

In a way, she was both surprised and impressed with Ekko finding this place. She always thought she knew the city like the back of her hand, yet she had never stumbled over here. How many places were like that in the Undercity? How many places remained hidden, waiting to become a symbol of a new beginning?

"Your mind seems far away", a voice sounded next to her and Vi turned to her right, only to find Caitlyn's smiling face. Despite her gentle expression, there was a spark of worry in her eyes.

Interesting girl was she. One who has grown up in a closed bubble, protected by her family's money and influence, yet there was a fire inside of her, that made her different from the stereotypical Piltover person. She had a deep sense of justice and despite seeing the worst of Zaun, instead of turning her head to the side, she wanted to dig deeper and to know more.

Vi would lie if she said she did not judge her in the beginning. She was sure Caitlyn would not survive more than an hour down here. However, the girl kept making her raise her brows in surprise, completely changing her views about the people in the Topside.

"It is", the pink-haired girl finally answered, letting out a soft sigh in the process, "Somewhere far. Somewhere better."

And with someone else.

Biting her lip, she turned her attention to the few streaks of grass poking near her feet. She grasped one, pulling it out and bringing it in front of her eyes. Twirling it a few times, she carefully examined it, noting how the end was starting to turn yellow.

There was minute during which each of the women seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Caitlyn laid her palm on Vi's back, rubbing small circles on top of the clothed skin. She remained silent, but her gesture managed to ease the tension in the other female's muscles.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Vi shook her head, his eyes still focused on the little piece of grass in her fingers.

God, she wanted to talk. She needed to talk. But what was weighing on her mind, was something she couldn't share with anyone. Especially Caitlyn.

"No, I will be fin-"

"YOU LYING SNAKE!"

Before Vi could realise what was happening, she found herself on the floor pinned by your trembling body. The eyes, once so full of gentle love, which haunted her dreams almost every night, were now staring down at her full of rage. As your name rolled off her tongue, another set of hands got involved by grabbing you by the shoulders.

"Hey! Get off her!"

Whipping your head back, your eyes narrowed to slits once you saw the blue-haired enforcer. Your nose involuntarily scrunched, a clear sign you were far from happy of what, or more specifically who, was before you.

Ekko has already warned you Vi was back in the city and that she was accompanied by an enforcer, but you did not expect... well, her. In your mind, you had built the picture of an old, grumpy prison officer, not a young and pretty woman. Perhaps, you did not want to believe YOUR girlfriend would be giving someone like her a tour around Zaun, while completely forgetting your existence.

Your name was called again and you looked down, your expression softening once your eyes met those of Vi. Many emotions were swimming inside of them - happiness, guilt, pain, relief - all of which were making you wish for nothing more than to press her against your chest and hold her for hours. Your fingers twitched, but instead of embracing her, you landed a few harsh slaps against her shoulders.

"Stop!", Caitlyn shouted once more, grabbing your vest from the back. Instead of calming you down, however, this enraged you even more and you turned around, slapping her hands away.

The enforcer was not a woman who gave up easily, however.

"I demand you to stop!", your body froze as the command left her lips. You stayed still for a few seconds, during which only your heavy panting and the distant shouts of the children around the base could be heard.

"You demand me?", the words came out as a loud scoff and you lifted yourself from Vi, while eyeing the other girl with a mix of irritation and disbelief. With one long stride, you closed the distance between you and gabbed the front of her jacket.

"I demand you to shut your mouth and get your little ass out of here before I kick it so hard, you'll regret ever coming to the Undercity!"

Before things could escalate, you were pulled away by Vi, who held her arms tight around you, while nodding her head toward Caitlyn.

"Cait, give us-Stop it, damn it!", she groaned, tightening her hold, "Cait give us a few minutes!"

The blue-eyed enforcer stood frozen in her place, her worried gaze shifting from her friend to you and then back. You still fought back against Vi's grip, ignoring the feelings of warmth and nostalgia that you felt by being so close to her.

"Please?", the pink-haired woman said again and reluctantly, Caitlyn started walking slowly backward. Once she was far from earshot, Vi released her grip on you and took a step back, giving you some space. She opened her mouth to speak, but you were faster.

Without a word, you turned around and smacked your palm against her cheek. Her head whipped to the side and for a moment, it remained there, frozen. The usually pale skin flushed a deep red where your hand had made contact and your hand trembled, before hiding inside the warm comfort of your pants' pocket.

"I probably deserve that...", Vi mumbled, moving her jaw left and right while she rubbed the sore spot on her face. She took a shaky breath, regaining her composure, before lifting her face. With the corner of her eyes, she could see Caitlyn eyeing both of you with worry and she lifted her hand toward her, a gesture to show her she did not need to intervene. Yet.

The subtle communication did not stay hidden from you and let out an angry huff, before shaking your head. Rarely have you felt such intense emotions, especially since that night when... No. You couldn't go back down this memory lane. Not again.

"Oh, you deserve way more than that!", your tongue pushed against your cheek, biting back all of the colourful insults that were resting on the tip of it. The memories of all those lonely nights you spent crying, mourning, and wondering what happened to her, now hung between you like a dark cloud. No matter how much you have prepared to face her once again, all self-control and reason left your mind as soon as you laid your eyes on her.

"I know you're hurt, but please give me a chance to explain!", her voice was low and soft, an unusual sound for Vi, "Please, I-"

"What is there to explain? You left! You left me! You left Powder! You left Ekko...", with each name, the pain in your chest felt stronger. You closed your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line before your gaze involuntarily moved to your right, where in the distance the enforcer was nervously chewing her thumb while keeping her attention glued to both of you.

Narrowing your eyes, you grabbed Vi's hand before starting to drag her toward the nearby wood shack. In the beginning, when you joined the Firelights it was used as a storage for hoverboards, but as the members of your group grew, it was soon abandoned and left to collect dust. It was secluded and most importantly away from prying eyes and ears.

The pink-haired girl followed without resistance, giving a last reassuring nod to the Piltover girl, who was now being led away by another Firelight. From all of the scenarios she imagined through the years about your reunion, you pouncing on her was definitely not on the list. A hug, a kiss, maybe even a chance for her to finally show you how much she actually loved you - those were the fantasies that kept swirling around her head all morning when she thought of how should she handle your first meeting after so many years.

Hearing that you were now part of the Firelights was not a surprise. Just like her, you liked to resolve your problems with your fists, rather than talk, and like many young people part of the group, there was nothing that you wished for more than free Zaun. You were stubborn, hot-headed, and reckless, and gave Vi a headache more than once in the past.

Would she have it any other way, however? Absolutely not!

Despite your tough and fiery nature, you also possessed a surprising softness and gentleness, reserved for those closest to you. She often considered herself lucky by being able to see you like this - open and vulnerable, a harsh contrast with your usual combative demeanour. The memories of your many nights spent together, sharing warm cuddles and soft kisses, while your head rested on her shoulder as you talked about your future dreams, often resurfaced in Vi's mind, reminding her how effortlessly it was for you to make her fall in love with you.

Deep inside she foolishly believed that if she ever got the chance to be released from prison, everything would be the same. Powder would still be her little sister, seeking her approval; Ekko would be their smart-ass best friend, who spent too much time tinkering with random gadgets; and you, her first love and girlfriend, would patiently wait for her arrival, ready to promise her the future which you always dreamt about when you were little.

Now, as she stood in front of your furious figure, she felt almost foolish for having such expectations. Of course you would change, you were forced to, just like everyone else in Zaun. The hardships you had to face at such a young age shaped you into someone colder and more guarded.

"I am sorry."

The words fell quietly from Vi's mouth, as she watched your face, trying to find even a glimpse of the love you once carried for her. All that stared back, however, was fury and disgust.

"You are sorry? That's all you've got to say?", you let out a dry chuckle, your voice ringing with mockery. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed her up and down, finally having the chance to properly observe her appearance.

Vi has always been a beautiful woman, even if she never seemed to care much about her looks. She never bothered with fancy hairstyles or clothes, preferring practicality and comfort over style. Yet, she possessed a natural attractiveness, one that made you turn your head the first time you saw her.

Your eyes focused on her buzzcut, before sliding down her face and noting the numerous new piercings and a tattoo, that were now covering it. Her eyes, still as piercing as you remembered them, held the same fiery spark as before, despite being clouded by guilt. She was also taller and more muscular, now towering almost a full head above you.

"I didn't leave!", she finally said, her expression hardening, "That night..."

The words got stuck in her throat, as she let out an angry sigh and rubbed her calloused hands on her face. Her body slumped against the wooden wall behind her, the loud thud making you wince.

"That night I was taken against my will", she continued, her voice trembling, "By the Enforcers. I... After seeing the remains of the explosion and Powder, I just needed a minute. Some time to breathe, to realise what had happened..."

The rage that bubbled inside your chest just a minute ago slowly started to evaporate, replaced by a mix of caution and confusion. You never wanted to believe that she abandoned you - for years, you pushed this thought aside, not able to accept the idea that Vi is capable of doing something like this. Not to you or Powder.

But as the time passed, the hope you held that she was just hiding somewhere started to transform into suspicion. Seeing Powder becoming Jinx right in front of your eyes, claiming that her sister deserted her, also did not help ease your mind and soon you started to accept this version of the events more and more.

She left you. Alone.

As she continued speaking, telling you how she was thrown in Stillwater Hold, never prosecuted or charged, and beaten and tortured, your whole body tensed. Her words painted a picture of chaos and pain, something completely different from what you had imagined for her. You always thought that she was living her best life, somewhere far away from Zaun.

"Do you know how many times I thought of giving up? Of just accepting that this was the end?", her eyes lifted toward your face, the raw feelings behind them making your breath catch in your throat, "But then I thought of you. Of Powder. And I knew I had to find a way back to you."

Her words hung in the air, and there was a minute of silence, during which you assimilated what she had said. A part of you wished for your initial belief to be true - you spend such a long time resenting her for abandoning you, and to a certain extent you even made your peace with it. But now, as she spoke her truth, you were left both confused and heartbroken.

How could you deal with that?

"I thought I would never see you again", you finally said, your voice sounding way softer and gentler than it was before, "That you are living your life somewhere else... with someone else."

Vi's brows furrowed at your admission and she pushed herself away from the wall, before taking a few steps toward you.

"Did you really believe I would do that?", her accusation made you shrink in your place, "That I would just leave you and Powder by yourself? That I don't care?"

The mention of her sister sent a pang of sorrow through your heart. Everyone knew how hard it was for you to witness her transformation, especially since you fought for years to save her from Silco's influence and twisted games. It took a long time for you to accept the painful truth that she was beyond saving.

"Have you seen Powder?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, "Do you know what she has become?"

Her gaze fell down at her feet and she weakly moved her head up and down. Despite seeing it with her own eyes, it all still felt unreal. If she controlled her anger that night, if she never screamed at her sibling, if she didn't step back from her... Maybe everything would've been different.

"I tried, Vi", you shook your head, unable to even look at her eyes, "I tried so hard, but Silco had his claws in her mind, filling it with lies. I couldn't... I couldn't save her. I don't know if anyone can. Even you..."

The woman's face fell - this was the second time she was told there was no hope for her sister anymore. She wanted to argue, to tell you that she could reach her, save her, but deep down she knew what your response was going to be. You were always honest to a fault, wearing your heart on your sleeve, and while Vi always loved that about you, she was not ready to hear the truth. Even if she already knew it.

Closing the gap between you, she cupped your cheek, gently running her thumb across the skin. You instinctively leaned toward it, seeking the feeling of warmth and comfort that you have been missing for so many years.

"I know", she said, still caressing your face, "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

Her words were meant to comfort, but all they did was add the final drop to the already overflowing pool of emotions bubbling inside your chest. You leaped forward, circling your arms around her taller frame and burying your face in her chest. Hot tears were now flowing from your eyes, a result of years of silent suffering. Loud sobs escaped your lips, and you felt her strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer in a protective embrace.

"I missed you!", your words were muffled by your face being pressed against her shirt, "I missed you so much, Vi! I.. I thought I would never see you again!"

Her grip tightened and she buried her nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of strawberry and cream filled her senses and she smiled, finding comfort in the fact that even years later, you still used the same shampoo. After being hit with the harsh reality of what Zaun has become, she welcomed this familiarity, even if it was a small one.

"I missed you too!", she murmured in your hair, before pressing a tender kiss on top of your head, "It's all going to be alright. I promise! I am here now."

You knew you shouldn't hope - after all, in the past it brought you only hurt and despair. But as she continued whispering sweet promises next to your ear, you couldn't help but cling to them, allowing yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for you both.

"I would never leave you again!", her voice became harsher, filled with determination, "Whatever happens, I will always be by your side!"

Closing your eyes, you nodded your head, pressing your face even further into her chest. Your breathing was now calmer and the tears had dried on your cheeks, leaving salty trails behind them. If only you could freeze time and stay in this moment forever...

Suddenly your body tensed and you pulled yourself harshly from her embrace, leaving Vi shocked and surprised by the sudden movement.

"What about the enforcer girl?", your face scrunched in disgust as the words fell out of your lips, "Who is she... to you?"

The young woman blinked a few times, taken aback by your bluntness and the sudden coldness in your voice.

"Caitlyn?", the sound of her name made you roll your eyes, "She is... a friend. She helped me get out of Stillwater."

Your brow quirked and your arms crossed in front of your chest, as if protecting you from the idea that there may be something more between them. Ekko has briefly told you what he knew about her and how she seemed to be different from the other enforcers, but even he still had certain reservations when it came to her real intentions and her relationship to Vi.

"Just a friend? Is that all she is to you?"

The pink-haired woman stared long and hard at your face, somewhat amused by your questioning. She bit her lip, trying to suppress her smirk, but she couldn't control the way the corners of her lips twitched upwards.

"Violet!", the sound of you using her full name pulled her attention to your face and she reached out to you again, resting her hands on your waist, "Violet, I am being serious!"

She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to just pull you closer and shut your mouth, stopping you from asking such silly things. Her gaze bored into yours and her fingers squeezed the soft flesh under them.

"Caitlyn has been a great friend and a partner in crime...", she explained, pulling you closer to her, "But she is not you! I am not interested in her in that way."

With narrowed eyes, you studied her face for any signs of her lying, before reluctantly nodding your head. Slowly you lifted your arms, before wrapping them around her neck and immediately starting to play with the ends of her short locks.

"C'mon, I have a girlfriend, who do you think I am?", Vi finally let out a soft laugh, leaning her face toward yours and nudging your nose with hers. A light blush covered your cheeks and the tip of your ears at the sound of the word "girlfriend". After so many years apart, you were not even sure if she still considered you as such.

"A girlfriend, huh? She must be lucky!"

She grinned, moving one of her hands behind your neck, while the other one remained gripping your waist.

"I think I am the lucky one."

She closed the distance between you, pressing her chapped lips against yours and pouring all of the pent up frustration and love she held for you. Closing your eyes, you melted in her embrace, completely intoxicated by the familiar taste of her. The hand behind your neck pushed you even closer to her, resulting in a harsh battle of teeth and tongues, during which she easily dominated you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you rested your foreheads against each other, while trying to catch your breaths. You opened your eyes, immediately meeting those of Vi. Dragging your hand from behind her neck to her cheek, you rubbed it affectionately, smiling once she nudged it with her head.

"If you disappear again, I will hunt you down", you say half-seriously, half-jokingly, "And I will kick your ass!"

A wide grin formed on her face.

"I wouldn't even dream of it."

cc artwork: Shuo Shi

[kingofbodyrolls]

Stuck in a Cabin (m) | pjm

Cute and innocent looking Park Jimin is your lifetime nemesis that you’ve already fallen into bed with not once, but twice. Will a snowy weekend trip with your friends to a cabin in the woods make it the third time you get with your enemy? 

→ Pairing: Jimin x female reader → AU + genres: smut, pwp, forced proximity → Trope: enemies to lovers → Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 5.5k → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (don’t be stupid), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, usage of toy (a dildo), very brief oral (female), multiple orgasms, double penetration (with a toy lol), anal (please go slow and don’t be like these fools), an obscene amount of lube, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk and endearing degrading names (he still calls her brat 😜), unintentional exhibitionism (or is it, Jimin?? 👀). → Read on AO3 [link]

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).

“I pick the music,” you snap, your hand darting toward the audio console to change the station. Before you can touch it, Jimin’s hand intercepts yours with a sharp slap.

“The driver always picks the music,” he declares with a smirk, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. You rub your hand, still stinging from his slap. 

“Brat.”

You sulk in the passenger seat, seething with frustration. Why are you stuck here again, especially when it’s your car that your nemesis, Park Jimin, is currently driving?

Snow piles up thick along the roadside, but the pavement itself remains clear of the sparkling white blanket. However, patches of ice glisten treacherously, making it difficult for the tires to grip the asphalt.

“Remind me why you’re driving again?” you huff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms in a pitiful fit of anger. Jimin always manages to provoke this reaction from you. Your blood boils, and despite your best efforts, you can’t help it.

“Have you forgotten who got us out of the snowstorm last time?” he smirks, glancing at you briefly—his eyes lingering on your chest, pushed up by your crossed arms. Then, his gaze snaps back to the road, his fingers gripping the wheel tightly, just as they did during the storm.

Thankfully, the snowstorm has passed as you head toward the cabin where you’ll be spending the weekend with your friends.

You huff and sink deeper into your seat, clearly displeased with the situation.

“I really don’t know how I ended up in a car with you again,” you grunt, turning your gaze to the passing landscape. Snow blankets the trees, which grow thicker and denser as you approach the cabin in the forest.

It’s better to stare out the window, you figure, than to acknowledge the feelings stirring in your chest—how your heart races just in his presence. No way will you give Jimin the satisfaction of knowing he affects you—whether through his touch, his words, or his cock. Admitting any of it would only stroke his ego further, and you refuse to give in to the man you despise with every fiber of your being.

“Because you love me,” he declares, and your eyes widen so much they might pop out of their sockets. You gape at him, speechless and flustered like a fish out of water, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite the rush of emotions, you manage to spit out a denial as if it’s second nature to you.

“I don’t love you. I don’t even like you,” you retort sharply.

Jimin bursts out in an endearing chuckle. Damn, why does that sound always get to you? It’s so genuine, filling the car with his infectious laughter. “Listen here, brat,” he says, his voice teasing yet earnest, “you can deny it all you want, but we both know you’re head over heels for me.”

You gape again, his audacity leaving you seething. Can he hear the frantic beat of your heart?

You attempt to deny it once more, your arms remaining firmly crossed over your chest.

He chuckles again, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “You’re cute when you lie.”

His comment makes you blush fiercely; your cheeks burn bright red and your ears feel like they’re on fire. The urge to leap out of the moving car to escape him intensifies—this is pure torture. It was bad enough when you reluctantly admitted to yourself that you might have feelings for your enemy, but you’ll go to any lengths to ensure he never finds out.

The rest of the ride drags on, the car enveloped in slow, sensual music that Jimin seems to adore. Each song carries a suggestive undertone that feels torturous, causing your thoughts to inevitably drift back to Jimin himself.

Suddenly, a warm hand slaps your thigh, trailing up your leg and dangerously close to your crotch, causing you to catch your breath and shiver. What the fuck is he doing?

You turn to face him, silent, your lips pressed tightly together. Words feel dangerous now, so you let your angry eyes convey your message. He chuckles softly, squeezing your thigh briefly before withdrawing his hand.

His hand, warm and lingering, leaves a chill in its wake on your thigh. Memories of his touch—exploring your body, igniting every nerve ending—flood your mind. Damn it. Why does your mind betray you like this?

Your body betrays you, squirming involuntarily in your seat, and you’re certain Jimin notices as you hear him chuckle once more.

“We’re here,” he announces, a playful lilt to his voice, and you snap your gaze to the two-story cabin, several cars parked out front. Looks like you’re the last one to arrive.

You’re relieved to have finally arrived, though you’ve dreaded this trip. Being stuck in close quarters with Jimin is a recipe for disaster. Your heart might just end up with the wrong idea.

As you both step out of the car, you grab your luggage—a small bag you’ve packed specifically for this weekend trip.

Despite its small size, your bag is surprisingly heavy. When Jimin notices your struggle, he moves to take it from you. However, you stubbornly refuse, grappling for control over your belongings.

He offers, “I can take your bag.”

“No, thank you,” you reply firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. You refuse his help, resisting his attempt at chivalry. You can’t afford to let your heart entertain false hope.

He suddenly smirks, his gaze trailing up and down your figure. “Do you have something naughty in there?”

You lose your grip on the bag, and it tumbles into the snow with a soft thud. Shock overtakes your expression as you gape at him, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“No,” you assert, shaking your head, your heart racing and palms growing clammy.

“Maybe I should take a peek then?” He chuckles, settling into a seat, his fingers inching towards the zipper of your bag.

“Fuck no!” you shout, snatching up your bag and storming towards the door, seething with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Damn it. You do have something in your bag, and there’s no way you want him to see—or find out—what it is.

Behind you, his laughter fills the air like warm honey as you swing the door open, letting the welcoming warmth wash over your already flushed face.

You greet your friends, who are already lounging on the couches around the warm fire pit. As their eyes rake over you, you silently pray that they can’t see the blush staining your cheeks.

“Hey,” Namjoon greets you with a warm smile from the couch. “Took you long enough to get here.”

You groan and roll your eyes at his comment. You’re not sure if he’s insinuating what you think he is, but even the thought makes your cheeks flush deeper. Nothing happened between you and Jimin this time, but the implication alone is enough to set your face on fire.

“Joon, just let them come in,” Seokjin scolds, throwing you a playful wink that makes your stomach churn. He knows, and you can only hope the others don’t. The memory of what you and Jimin did in Seokjin’s bedroom at his Christmas party floods your mind, and you curse inwardly. It’s bad enough that you’re so easily manipulated by Jimin’s touch—you despise the fact that you might be falling for him. No, you’re not falling for your enemy. You can’t be.

“When did you get here?” you ask Yoongi, who is sprawled out on a couch, nearly asleep. He shoots you a half-awake glare in response to your interruption.

“About an hour ago,” he groans, his voice heavy with fatigue as he stretches his arms lazily.

“We're heading into town to do some shopping in a bit. Want to join us?” Hoseok asks with a bright smile, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, is everyone going?” Jimin asks, casually settling his perfectly round ass onto one of the couches. Damn Park Jimin’s ass—why the hell are you staring at it in, and in  those black sweatpants? Ugh.

The guys nod, chatting excitedly about what to pick up at the store—booze, snacks, and dinner. They turn to you, and Namjoon asks with a curious gaze, “You’ve been awfully quiet. Don’t you wanna tag along?”

“I think I’ll just stay here and relax. But could you grab some red wine for me? I’d love a glass later. And just pick up whatever snacks you guys want,” you say with a smile, tossing your bag to the floor, safely out of Jimin’s prying eyes.

“Sure, go ahead and head upstairs to your room to unpack while we’re out shopping. We’ll be leaving in just a minute,” Seokjin offers kindly.

Yoongi groans again, questioning why he has to come along, but Namjoon playfully scolds him, insisting they need his expert opinion on selecting the finest whiskey in the store. You don’t linger to hear more of their banter, swiftly grabbing your bag and ascending the stairs to your room. It’s a shared room with some of the other guys, but as long as there are single beds, you’re fine.

Upstairs, the hallway stretches out with rooms on either side. You check each one, searching for an empty space to claim, until you reach the end of the hall, your hand hovering over the final doorknob.

You turn the knob, pushing the door open to reveal a small, cozy, and warmly lit room. Your eyes immediately catch the queen-size bed, the sole furnishing in the room. Perhaps the guys had been considerate, giving you your own room? With no bags in sight, you step inside, feeling grateful for the quiet retreat.

You plop down on the bed, tossing your bag to the floor and letting out a sigh. The mattress feels comfortable as you stretch out, listening intently for any movement downstairs. The murmur of your friends’ voices filters up, mingling with the sounds of Yoongi being reluctantly dragged along. The front door opens, accompanied by a few of Yoongi’s colorful curses, and then silence settles in as the door closes behind them.

You sigh again, savoring the rare moment of solitude. Finally, you can gather your thoughts—though they frustratingly drift to Jimin. No, that’s not what you want to focus on right now!

But the persistent ache between your legs, lingering since the car ride with Jimin, demands attention. Maybe it's time to do something about it. Almost instinctively, you reach for your bag on the floor.

You unzip the bag and stick your hand inside, rummaging for what you know will help you focus on anything other than your infuriating enemy, Park Jimin.

Your fingers finally locate the plastic bag you’ve carefully packed, and you pull it out, your hand wrapping around the familiar soft silicone. It’s purple, glitter sparkling as you turn it in your hand, its length and satisfying thickness promising a welcome distraction.

It’s beautiful, resembling a pretty dick, and your thoughts swirl to Jimin’s cock. Your pussy throbs at the comparison. Jimin is a bit girthier than your dildo and about the same length. The mere memory of him sends a shiver down your spine.

You sit at the edge of the bed, quickly pulling down your jeans and panties. With no idea how much time you have before your friends return, you know you need to be fast. The last thing you want is to be caught in the act.

You lean back against the headboard, spreading your legs, already slick with arousal. 

Damn, you really are a mess.

You begin to rub your clit, teasing yourself, and your mind betrays you by wandering to Jimin—his fingers, his mouth. Damn it, you started this to avoid thinking about Jimin, so why does he invade your thoughts even now?

Heat floods through you as you keep steady pressure on your clit, rubbing slow circles. Flustered and aroused, you can’t help but think about the risk of getting caught if you’re not quick enough. The illicit thrill excites you more than it should, and you’re surprised at how your walls clench at the thought.

You slide a finger inside your folds, feeling the tight, wet heat, though it doesn’t quite satisfy as much as you’d hoped.

Your breath quickens, matching the accelerating pace of your heart. With a sense of urgency, you increase the speed of your movements, thrusting your finger inside yourself faster, all the while anxiously aware of the time passing. How long has it been now, anyway?

God, you’re so wet and you just crave to be filled. You glance at your sparkly purple dildo beside you, convinced you’re slick enough to take it. Grabbing it eagerly, you run your slick hands over its smooth surface, ensuring it’s coated with your own arousal.

You open your legs wider, positioning the dildo in front of your eager pussy. Slowly, you ease it inside, relishing the stretch that sends shudders of pleasure through you. Not wanting to rush, you take it slow, savoring the delicious fullness as it gradually fills you up.

Throwing your head back, you revel in the sensation as soon as the dildo is fully inserted. Taking a deep breath, you start to withdraw it slowly, only to eagerly thrust it back inside moments later.

You continue to thrust the dildo into your pussy, establishing a deliberate rhythm of self-pleasure. It’s a satisfying feeling, one you’ve been yearning for. Since your last encounter with Jimin, and with no one else since, this release feels necessary—like finally letting go of pent-up frustration.

You lose yourself in the sensation of fullness, thoughts of Jimin consuming your mind. You find yourself wishing it was his cock thrusting into you instead of your pathetic dildo. The toy pales in comparison to Jimin, but that’s a truth you’ll never admit to him.

You pant and moan, lost in your pleasure.

Then, the door creaks open, and your eyes snap open in alarm, breaking the euphoric trance. There stands your enemy, Park Jimin, his eyes widening and pupils dilating as he instantly realizes what you’re doing.

Your mind races—he shouldn’t be here, no one should! What is he doing in your room? Damn it, why does your pussy clench around the dildo now, of all times?

Jimin looks shocked, but his expression quickly shifts to a smirk as he confidently strides into the room with his bag in hand. His smile is mischievous, to say the least—this encounter promises trouble. The question lingers: will this end well for you, or not?

“What are you doing back? No one’s supposed to be here,” you spit out, your voice both heavy and breathless. You instinctively close your legs, as if you could shield yourself from his prying eyes, though he’s already seen it all.

He chuckles, the sound filling the room with a menacing undertone that sends a shiver down your spine—and yet, strangely, it also sends a thrill of excitement through you. 

Damn it.

“I never left. Just came to claim my room,” he says casually, running a hand through his hair in a move that sends a dangerous thrill through you. Your stomach flutters with a mix of apprehension and something else you don’t want to admit—but damn it, you can’t deny the effect it has on you.

“Your room?” you choke out, breathless, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks while the dildo remains snug inside you. Conversing with him in this state feels surreal—both embarrassed and intensely aroused, caught in a tantalizing mix of emotions.

He just nods, closing the door behind him, his mischievous smile widening with every step he takes towards you.

Fuck. Looks like the guys didn’t get you a room all to yourself. There’s only one bed in here—which means you’re supposed to share it with Jimin unless you want to sleep on the floor or freeze on the couch in the living room. Damn it.

“What are you doing with that dildo stuffed inside your pussy?” he asks with a teasing smile, eyes glinting with mischief. Now standing right in front of the bed, he makes your pussy flutter around the dildo. Fucking hell. Jimin will be the death of you.

You hiss as his warm hand touches your foot, sending shivers up your spine. “What does it look like I’m doing?” you snap back, embarrassment and anger bubbling up inside you. The heat of the situation, mixed with being caught, leaves you feeling both hot and bothered.

“Does that thing really satisfy you?” he asks, his gaze shifting from the glistening toy between your legs to your flustered face, a smirk playing on his lips.

You grimace, biting back a response. The truth is, your dildo never truly satisfies you, but it’s the best you can manage when desperation strikes.

Jimin notices your eyes darting away in shame and bursts into laughter, his voice dripping with smugness. “Admit it,” he taunts, “you totally miss my cock, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen in shock—how does he read you so well? It’s as if he can see straight into your mind. But there’s no way you’re admitting it, so you stay silent, your defiance the only shield against his penetrating gaze.

He moves closer, his fingers trailing a tantalizing path along your calves. Leaning in, his voice drops to a provocative whisper, “Tell me, brat. Is that toy really better than my cock?”

You remain silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But your body betrays you—craving his touch, yearning for his cock instead of the lifeless dildo.

“Look. I already know the answer, but you have to tell me if you want me to touch you,” he says, as if discussing the weather, not the way he’ll wreck you if you let him. He removes his hand from your legs, “You’re such a brat, but suit yourself. Enjoy your dildo,” he taunts, moving away and off the bed. Panic grips you as your mind races—now that he’s here, you don’t want him to leave!

“Wait!” you blurt out, and he freezes mid-step. His back is turned to you, but you can already picture the smirk playing on his lips as he slowly turns around, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly confident way.

“It’s not better than your dick,” you gasp, the words slipping out amidst a stifled moan, the silicone still filling you.

“Aw. Can’t find anything to match up to my cock, huh?” he taunts, his tone dripping with patronizing amusement. You roll your eyes, exasperated. Damn him. He’s insufferable. So fucking utterly full of himself.

"I’m perfectly capable of finding good dick. This is just an emergency…” you groan, feeling the dildo slowly slip out of your folds. Jimin shifts closer, his gaze lingering on you with a knowing smirk.

“Emergency? Let me help you then,” he says, his voice dripping with sweet poison. Damn it, you crave his touch more than anything right now. Fuck. you really want his help, you want him so bad.

You bite your lip, parting your legs to reveal everything to him. He holds you under his spell like no one else, leaving you powerless against the desire coursing through you. Despite your disdain, you ache for him like nothing else.

“Let me watch you fuck yourself with  it,” he smirks, catching you off guard. It’s not what you anticipated, but you’re intrigued, not unwilling.

“What?” you snap at him, feeling your body react to the idea. You really want his dick and not like this pathetic excuse of a dildo.

“You heard me. Get to work, brat. If you can make yourself come, then I’ll fuck you after,” he smirks, his tongue flicking over his lips suggestively.

Is this a challenge? Damn, a surge of heat washes over you, and your hand plunges the dildo back into your pussy, a guttural moan escaping your lips.

“That’s it,” he murmurs in praise, sending a rush of heat through you, your stomach twisting with a mixture of nerves and desire.

You throw your head back, heart racing, and close your eyes as your body shivers. You can feel his intense gaze on you, imagining his eyes fixed on your every move, tracing the contours of your pussy.

Jimin reclines, his gaze intense as he watches you thrust the dildo in and out of your pussy. Every movement leaves you feeling desperate, panting softly, lips caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to stifle accidentally uttering his name.

Jimin watches in silence, his presence so palpable you have to open your eyes to confirm he’s real, not some bizarre figment of your imagination. His gaze is sinful, observing you in this intimate act — it knots your stomach with a heady mix of desire and nervous anticipation.

His smirk widens, eyes dark and intense as you catch the unmistakable outline of his arousal straining against his sweatpants. A shiver runs through you at the thought. All you want now is to reach your climax, to feel him inside you. His presence alone is enough to drive you wild with desire.

You’re panting hard, chasing after your climax, but it eludes you, adding to your frustration. Jimin senses your struggle. “Let me help,” he murmurs, his voice laced with promise.

You grunt in frustration, resisting his offer. “No. If you help, you won’t fuck me, right?” 

You desperately want him to fuck you, so you’ll handle this on your own, thank you very much. Jimin chuckles softly, “Listen, brat, I’m so hard for you right now. Whether I help or not, I’m going to fuck you. Just let me.” His sincerity breaks through your resolve, and you find yourself giving in to him.

His hand finds yours, and you relinquish control, allowing Jimin to take your place at the end of the dildo, guiding it inside you while your fingers find your clit, eagerly seeking the pleasure he promises.

You stroke your clit, the dual sensation tightening the knot in your stomach even faster. Your breath quickens, Jimin’s gaze locked on you with awe. “Damn, Jimin, I’m—” you gasp, savoring the exquisite rush of being filled while pleasuring yourself. It’s intense.

“Just come already so I can fuck you, that’s what you want, right?” he taunts, maintaining a steady rhythm with the dildo.

“Yes! I need your cock,” you gasp, biting your lip and throwing your head back in desperate anticipation.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart, your pussy fluttering around the dildo, your clit pulsating as you moan his name. God, you feel shivers all the way down to your toes, your body convulsing with the release of built-up tension.

“Such a good girl. As a reward, I’ll fuck you silly,” he promises, his words sending a thrill through you, your pussy fluttering around the dildo in anticipation. Shit, you can’t wait for that.

He withdraws the dildo, setting it aside as he gazes at your pussy with evident captivation. Slowly, he moves closer, then looks up, locking eyes with you. “Let me taste you?” His voice is a husky plea, tinged with desire.

His eyes hold both innocence and sin, and you bite your lip before nodding. “Yes,” escapes your lips in a breathless whisper.

He dives down, his tongue extending eagerly to meet your still-pulsating pussy. With each lick, he gathers your juices, his sucking intensifying the sensation. Your stomach tightens, hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling slightly as his touch overwhelms your senses.

Park Jimin might look cute, you’ll admit, but his tongue is sin personified, a devilish tool he wields with expert precision. It’s why you often find yourself beneath him, craving the unique pleasure only he can provide.

His tongue swirls around your clit with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, fingers tugging harder on his hair. Just for a moment, he pulls back. “You taste so sweet and delicious,” he murmurs, licking his lips glistening with your sheen, sending tingles down your spine and a needy moan escaping your lips.

Then he dives back in, licking a stripe from your folds to your clit. “I think you deserve to get fucked now, brat,” he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief, stealing your breath away. You partly hate how you’re falling for him, despite his devilish charm and the way he pleases you.

He pulls back, studying you for a moment before quickly undressing, his clothes tossed to the floor. He crawls back onto the bed, grabbing his dick and stroking it—though he hardly needs to, already hard for you. He opens your legs, and your pussy clenches in anticipation. You want him so bad, your heart pounding in your chest.

He grunts, smirking as he moves closer. The head of his dick caresses your folds, turning you to butter. Slowly, he pushes himself inside, and you moan his name in pure pleasure.

“You’re still so tight, fuck,” he pants, stilling inside you as he bottoms out. The sensation of fullness sends a shudder through you, eyes rolling back as you arch your back, nipples hardening against the teasing fabric of your shirt. He begins to thrust, fast and relentless, and you moan, feeling like you’re ascending to the heavens with each powerful stroke.

His hips slam against your thighs, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders, driving deeper and making you see stars. Suddenly, he pulls out, and you look at him in confusion.

“Ass up,” he commands, and you turn over on all fours, presenting yourself to him. His hands glide over your ass, setting your skin on fire and making you shiver. “Such a pretty ass,” he murmurs, then spanks you, eliciting a moan and a clench around nothing. He soothes the stinging spot with a gentle caress, the contrast sending waves of sensation through you.

You feel him position himself behind you, and his cock enters you again. You groan, high and airy, like he’s just fucked the breath out of you. He thrusts deeper, hands gripping your thighs and pulling you into him with every powerful movement.

Frustration mounts as you drag the shirt over your body, finally tossing it aside before collapsing onto the bed. Your head rests against the mattress, and you relish the way Jimin’s thrusts hit deep, effortlessly finding your g-spot. “Jimin—” you moan, a symphony of fullness and bliss escaping your lips.

He grunts, ramming harder into you, “Isn’t this better than that silly little dildo?” His voice is laced with condescension, but it only makes you wetter, and you moan out a breathless yes.

“Speaking of that sparkly thing… have you ever had it in your ass?” His hands possessively grope your cheeks, making your pussy clench around him as you struggle to form coherent thoughts.

“Well, brat?” He slaps one of your ass cheeks, the sting blending with pleasure.

“I’ve never had the dildo in my ass before, fuck,” you moan, lost in a delightful haze. “I’ve only been fingered before.”

He hums thoughtfully, and you already know what’s coming next. “Do you want to try? Being filled in two holes, hm?”

Your pussy clenches again. Fuck. The very thought makes you drip even more. “Fuck. Yes.”

You feel his cock twitch inside you. “Fuck. Do you have lube in your bag?”

You nod, biting your lip as he pulls out of you and strides over to your bag. Returning with the lube, he takes his place behind you once more. “Just gonna prep you, okay? Let me know if it hurts.”

You nod, biting your lip hard enough to taste a hint of blood, but the sting is a distant concern. The click of the lube opening and the sound of the liquid being squeezed onto Jimin’s finger send shivers down your spine. You feel his finger teasing your rim, the cool liquid running down your ass as he carefully applies it. The sensation makes you shiver. Slowly, his finger starts pushing in, moving in and out with a careful rhythm, stretching you gently and gradually.

He’s taking his time to make sure he doesn’t push you too far, stretching you slowly and gradually.

“Fuck, Jimin. You can go in a bit more, it’s fine,” you grunt, feeling both of your holes clench as he presses his finger in deeper. You’d forgotten how it felt to be filled like this, the heightened sensitivity of your ass adding to the intensity.

“You’re taking my finger so well,” he pants, clearly affected by the scene unfolding before him.

“Do you think you can take a second finger?” he asks, pulling his finger out momentarily.

“Yes,” you pant, eager for more.

He pushes two fingers inside, stretching you further, and you moan, the mix of pain and pleasure sending waves of sensation through you. Despite the generous amount of lube, there’s a slight burning sensation, but the pleasure quickly overrides any discomfort.

“Fuck.”

Then he enters you again with his cock, and you cry out in pleasure, tears welling in your eyes as you choke on your own breath. The sensation is overwhelming, filling you completely. He begins to thrust, his dick plunging into your pussy while his fingers work your ass. The double penetration makes you clench, and you know you could come just from this.

Suddenly, he withdraws his fingers. “I think you’re ready. Let’s try. I won’t push it all the way in, just a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you manage to say, biting your lip as he grabs the purple dildo, applying an obscene amount of lube to it and your ass. His thrusts slow as he focuses on inserting the dildo into your hole. You hold your breath as you feel the silicone prod at your ass while his cock fills your pussy. The sensation is intense, a mix of sting and pleasure. 

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs, caressing your ass with his free hand. He successfully pushes the head of the dildo inside, and you gasp for air.

“Shit. It feels weird, but good,” you pant, bliss washing over you. You need him to move. “Please move, fuck me, Jimin.”

He keeps the dildo still as he resumes his quick thrusts, his balls slapping against your pussy. The pleasure is incredible. Slowly, he starts moving the dildo in and out in rhythm with his thrusts, and you’re gone, so far gone. The coil in your stomach tightens, and you feel like you could snap at any moment.

“Jimin, Jimin!” you pant and cry out, the urgency in your voice driving him wild.

“Fuck! You’re gonna come, aren’t you? Come on my cock, you filthy brat,” he growls, his voice dropping an octave, sending shivers down your spine.

And then it happens; the coil inside you snaps, and your vision turns white with sparkles dusting your retinas. You scream his name, and both your pussy and hole pulsate, gripping his cock and the dildo for dear life. Your mind turns blank, then bursts with colors, your body heating up and floating as Jimin slows down, fucking you gently through your orgasm.

“Fucking hell. You’re beautiful when you come,” he murmurs, his voice deep and strained, like he’s close too. You feel him twitch inside you repeatedly.

“Shit. I’m gonna come,” he stutters, then releases his white-hot seed into your pussy, filling you up, and fuck, you love it. He groans your name, thrusting a few more times before the dildo falls to the bed. Both of his hands grab your hips, squeezing hard, and you moan at his possessive hold.

“Turn around,” he commands, his voice exhausted as he pulls out, his seed and your juices trailing out. You comply, laying back on your back, opening your legs for him. He enters you again, slowly fucking his seed back into you. You spot a slight flinch on his face, a sign of overstimulation, but he pushes into you regardless. You don’t mind; it feels nice and hot.

He stays inside you for a moment, both of you catching your breath, and then you burst out laughing together. But the sound of rustling and rumbling from downstairs snaps you back to reality. The guys are back. Instinctively, you clench around him, your heart rate spiking with fear of being caught.

“Jimin, the guys are back!” you whisper urgently, your blissful haze crashing down.

He just chuckles, “Yeah, they’ve been back for a while. Didn’t you hear the door open?”

You stare at him, wide-eyed and in utter disbelief. That means they heard everything. You weren’t exactly focused on being quiet. Your face heats up, wanting the bed to swallow you whole. Jimin just laughs at your misery.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You fume but can’t help the way your heart softens at his cheeky smile. Despite being your enemy, the chemistry between you is undeniable. You want him, again and again. It’s time to stop lying to yourself.

“Kiss me, you piece of shit,” you demand, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss, not caring anymore. Your heart wants what it wants, even if it’s your mortal enemy, Park Jimin.

→ Taglist: @yopjm @chimmy-licious @aubrey0moore @jeonsbabygirlsworld @haru-jiminn

→ Author’s note: so… what do you think? I’ve actually been writing this one for almost a month and it’s damn laughable because the wordcount is so small! Normally I would have finished this in a few days… but I’ve been struggling with it and not feeling it. But I did it! I finished it, and just in time for Muse. Let me know if you liked it, and, are you excited for Muse?! 

Also— I feel like this ‘series’ is concluded, I really don’t know what more I could add to it, and I honestly feel like it would be really boring, because it’s all the same 😂

[alphajocklover]

Hey man, so I've tried to be passive most of my life and not cause trouble. Not breaking many rules, doing as I'm told, and it just leaves me with so much missed chances and getting walked all over. I'm kind of tired of it.

I wanna be abrasive, not rude but confident. Almost cocky. And I want the looks to match. I wanna be huge, and bulky, and hairy too. I don't wanna be smart and focused on academics, I wanna chuck balls and pump my cock all day. Weird enough too, I wanna be sweaty. I wanna raise my arms and watch a bunch of gay dudes just melt like puddy.

The best part is, I wanna *feel* this transformation. I want to watch my arms get huge, I wanna hear my voice get deeper, and my chest push out and almost tear my chest. I wanna be...I wanna be...I wanna be a fuckin JOCK

I want to start by assuring you that everything you’ve said, everything you’ve been feeling, makes sense. There are a lot of people out there who are like you, people who have spent their entire lives just blending in. It’s natural to want to fit in, but when you spend so much of your life trying to fit into the norm, it can be easy to forget who you really want to be. When that happens, most people try to change things up. Some chase after a specific new self they dream of being, while others experiment with different identities, trying to find one that fits. But then, there's people like you. People who have spent far too long trying to fit in. For people like you, blending in isn’t a curse: it’s a superpower.

What you have to understand is that a person's identity is far more powerful than you might realize. There's a reason people take names so seriously. Psychologically, socially, and even magically, they’re important. So when a person leaves so much of their identity up to the people around them… it makes sense that a transformation might occur. That they change, literally change, to blend in with others. We call these people Camous. People who have the power to socially blend in, literally, with the world around them. They’re sort of the opposite of Alphas. Alphas change reality to fit their whims, Campus change to fit reality. And from what I hear, you’re becoming one. I know this might sound a little frightening, since having your identity threatened will do that to anyone. But this is a good thing. While changing is scary, you won’t change entirely. Your body, your personality, your traits, and even your reality will change depending on who you’re around, but the core of your identity, your soul will stay the same. You’ll still be you, just… altered. And being a Camou gives you a lot of advantages. It’s true that you won’t ever stand out really, but you’ll always fit in and always be part of a group. And, better than that, you can use your power to choose who you want to be. You want to be a jock, right? A sweaty, hairy, manly jock who makes gay guys weak in the knees? All you have to do is find a group of jocks to join! It isn’t hard to find a group of jocks, even the specific type of hairy gay jocks you’re looking for. You just have to find the right gym, and I know just the one. The Jockstrap is a local gym specifically made to cater to people like you. Or the people you want to be like I suppose. I want you to take a deep breath as we enter. Do you smell that sweat? That manly musk? Breathe in deep, it’ll help the process. Unlike one of the more famous transformation methods I’ve written about, this one isn’t instant. You’re going to feel your biceps fill with muscle, your pecs bursting forward as your body is covered in a respectable smattering of manly hair. It’s already happening. Your shoulders are widening as your chest continues to grow, needing more room on your body. Your legs, your arms, your ass… everything is growing. But that isn’t the only thing that's changing. Your mind is too. I can see the excitement in your eyes as you look around. Working out, exercising, playing sports, hanging with the bros… you’re already getting excited by the thought of it. And without getting too explicit, it’s obvious that you’re excited in other ways. I can see it through your sweat pants (I guess your clothing changed too) and it must be at least 8 inches by now, soft. That rod, your muscles, and the sheer amount of manly musk that's coming from your body now? You’re going to have twinks throwing themselves at you.

Now, since you’re a Camou this transformation isn’t permanent. It’ll last for a while, longer depending on how much time you spend at the gym surrounded by your new bros. The general rule is if you spend one hour with a group, you get three hours as one of them, unless you spend time with a new group immediately after. But the really exciting part is that once you have a form, you can turn into that version of yourself… with some practice, and if you aren’t currently with a large group. 

I honestly can’t believe I haven’t talked about Camous beforehand. Granted, you’re only the second Camou I’ve ever met, but they’re so interesting I can’t believe I’ve never brought them up. I hope you enjoy being a jock, or whoever else you want to try out being. Just, try not to fall in with a bad crowd.