#memorize this (s/i edition)

[leasboyfriend]

kh Space's hair is permanently green bc of fairy magic but they still get Axel to help them dye it occasionally

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 6

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Frottage - Bang Chan

Word Count: 8.8k

Summary: Being an award winning actress isn’t as easy as some might think. Award shows themself are one of the more difficult events to tackle. But luckily, during this ceremony, you get to meet some of your favorite idols, and they get to meet their favorite actress.

—————————————————————

“And after the awards ceremony there’s an after party at The Plaza.” Your agent’s voice is strictly business in the back of the limousine. 

You’re playing with the fabric of your gown while absentmindedly listening to her. 

“Do I have to be on set tomorrow?”

“Yes, your call is at 9:00 AM. Transportation will be at your hotel at 7:30.”

You groan and look up at the ceiling. “Why do they always put these award shows on weekdays?”

“Your weekends aren’t exactly free anymore, either.” 

Yes, you’re aware. 

The life of an actress was not easy. Especially an award winning one. Right now, you are the hot, new, up-and-coming actress that everyone has their eye on. The actress that every director wants in their movie, their TV show, their commercials– everything.

Currently, you’re in the middle of filming a TV show that has a high fantasy aesthetic to it. You’re the main role in the show, the main badass warrior that everyone roots for. The kind of character that has a million and thirty Tik Tok edits of her.

It’s one of those shows where your character is constantly going through the wringer. The amount of bruises that you have to sport on camera increases each day; real and fake. 

Your nerves begin to creep up on you the closer you get to the award venue. 

Red carpets were one of the hardest parts of the job. Memorizing lines? Easy. Learning blocking and fight choreo? You do that every day. 

Talk to strangers and pose for pictures? No, thank you. 

Who were you wearing again?

“This dress is Gucci, right?”

“No, it’s Christian Siriano. I’m glad you asked. Your jewelry is Gucci and your shoes are Prada.”

You stare at your agent blankly, she hasn’t looked up from her tablet once. You were not made for this part of the job.

“Jesus…” you sigh and lean back into the cushioned seat. 

“While we’re at it, do you even know what award you’re up for?”

“Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series, right?”

“And?”

“And?” you repeat incredulously. “I thought I was only up for one!”

Finally, your agent looks up with a smirk. “Trick question, you passed. Proud of you.”

You can’t help but laugh and look out the window. “You know I’m nervous as all hell, don’t test me.”

“Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you have this in the bag.”

“That’s exactly what I’m nervous about. I have to get up, walk up those stairs in these Gucci—“

“Prada.”

“Prada shoes. And then make an acceptance speech in front of everyone. Millions of people. No pressure.”

She laughs and looks down at her tablet again. “You’re very charming and everyone loves you, you can talk the paint off a wall, Y/N, just be yourself.”

Grumbling, you cross your arms over your chest. But you can’t sit still in that position for too long at all. You’re too fidgety. 

In front of you, there’s a chilled bottle of champagne. You pour it into one of the flutes and sip it entirely too fast for the quality of the drink. ‘Sip’ is putting it gently, you down it. 

A second glass is poured, but you choose to hold that one in your hand tightly. Absent-mindedly, you swirl the champagne around, watching the bubbles form and pop up at the top. 

A few moments of silence pass, you begin to mutter to yourself to ease the stress. “Christian Siriano dress, Gucci jewelry, Prada shoes. Christian Siriano dress, Gucci jewelry, Prada shoes..”

The crowd starts getting louder the closer you get to the event. Cameras are already flashing outside your limousine. 

“I haven’t even told you who’s going to be there.”

Your agent sounds extremely smug all of a sudden. When you look over at her, there’s a cocky smirk on her face. 

“Who?” With that look, you’re not even sure that you want to know the answer. 

“Maybe put the drink down before I tell you. Wouldn’t want you to spill it on your…”

“Christian Siriano.”

“Christian Siriano dress.”

After downing the contents once more, you put the glass down. 

“Okay, who?”

Her smile grows even wider. “You know Stray Kids, right?”

Your face pales, even under all that makeup all the color drains from your skin. 

“They’re going to be there?”

She knows, she knows you’ve been a fan for a while. You were a Stay before fame came your way. 

Your agent smiles and nods, the light from her tablet illuminating her face. 

“Don’t play with me,” your voice is strained. “That’s mean.”

You’ve been keeping your admiration of them on the down low for so long. Now that you’re in the public eye, you have to be very low key about things. 

It was killing you. 

“They did a soundtrack song for a show, it’s up for an award.”

You were nervous before. Now you’re downright hysterical. 

“They’re going to be there? All eight of them?”

“To my knowledge, yes.”

The limousine comes to a gradual stop. The screams outside are deafening, even through the car doors. 

“Will I see them?” You ask, gathering your skirt up to try and assist with a graceful exit out of the limo. 

“Probably!” There’s a little hint to her voice that you can’t quite put your finger on. What is she doing? What does she know? 

The driver comes around the limousine and you take a deep breath, activating your celebrity face. 

It’s never hard for you to muster a genuine smile. You’re humble about your life, you know how lucky you are. Thinking about how far you’ve come is all the motivation you need to let the corners of your lips perk up.

“Ready?” Your agent asks.

“Yes, ma’am!”

The door opens and the roar of the crowd goes insane. You’re practically blinded by the flashes of the cameras. 

You do your very best to keep a level head and follow the instructions of the security team around you. 

In the meantime, as you walk into the venue, you turn and smile at the fans behind the barricades. 

Sending them hand hearts, waving enthusiastically back at them. You look up at your head security guard.

“Can I please go sign a few autographs?”

He looks down at you, obviously annoyed. But annoyed in the fatherly way. Just by the look on his face, you knew he was going to say yes. 

You quickly pick up your skirt and walk over to the barricade. The screams get louder and louder the closer you get. 

“Hi! Hi!” You greet all the fans as they scream for you. So many different objects are thrust over the fence for you to sign. 

You grab a marker and begin leaving your signature over everything in sight: posters, shirts, books. 

Several selfies are taken with you. Every single fan is so sweet and kind that you can’t help but spend extra time with them. 

They reach out and grab your hands, you hold them back and have conversations with them. 

You always do this. It’s something you’re very well known for. 

“Miss Y/N.” your security guard says gruffly behind you. 

“Okay, okay. I gotta go, guys. It was so nice meeting you, and it was nice seeing you again!” You point to a fan that you recognized from a convention you attended a few months ago. 

After blowing a few more kisses, you leave the barricade and head towards the red carpet. 

If it was up to you, you would’ve stood there and talked with your fans all day and never gone into the awards ceremony. They’re the reason you’re here, after all. 

Walking along the carpet, you plaster a smile on your face and wave to all the photographers. You stand still right in the middle of the space and strike several different practiced poses. 

You make sure to look in all different directions and show off the dress hugging your body beautifully. 

It’s a dark yellow gown with huge puffed sleeves that sit off your shoulders. The center of the gown dips down to show off your cleavage. The rest of the skirt poofs out in a princess style. 

It’s absolutely gorgeous. Crafted to show off your body in the best way.

All the photographers call out your name, all of them trying to get your attention. 

You wave to several that you recognize and say hello to others. 

Your short minutes on the red carpet run out and you quickly make your way across to the other side to link arms with your agent. 

She pats your arm, “Great job! Now for the hard part.”

On the other side of the red carpet there are several different magazines, websites, and other fashion sources lined up with interviewers stationed in front of cameras. 

“I studied for this, remember?” you tease her and hug her arm closer before letting go. 

The first interview you do is with Vogue, they had grabbed your attention so fast you almost got whiplash. 

How’s the show? Who are you wearing? Are you nervous about tonight?

These are all questions you prepared for.  

Next interview was with Vanity Fair. You had recognized the interviewer, so you approached her first. 

“Y/N!” Her face lights up when she sees you.

“Hi!” you answer just as cheerfully, wrapping her in a big hug and then holding her out at arms length. “How have you been?”

“So good, you?”

“Can’t complain– busy. I’m so glad to see you!”

“Me too! Do you have time for an interview?” She asks hopefully. 

“I always have time for you.”

She says thank you and her camera man gets into place. A second microphone is handed to you. Before you can blink, she’s in interview mode. 

You smile and listen to her introduction.

“I am here with, Y/N L/N, star of the Emmy award winning show, Kings and Pirates. How are you doing tonight, Y/N?”

You lift the microphone up to your mouth and speak into it happily. “I’m doing great, thank you! Always a pleasure to be talking with you on the red carpet.”

“You flatter me, Y/N! Now tell us the obvious question here: Who are you wearing?”

“I am wearing an original Christian Siriano dress, Gucci jewelry, and Prada shoes.”

“The entire outfit is beautiful! An amazing dress to hopefully show off when you win Best Actress tonight…?”

You laugh humbly. “I don’t know, there are so many amazing actresses nominated tonight. A girl can hope, but when I see the other names around mine, I can’t help but be anxious.”

The interviewer opens her mouth to ask another question, but the crowd absolutely erupts in cheers. Louder than when you got out of your limo, louder than some concerts you’ve attended. 

“Oh my god, I think someone important just showed up.” You joked into the microphone. 

Both you and the interviewer are looking across the carpet, craning your necks to see if you can get a glimpse of whoever just stepped out. 

“Minho! Hyunjin! Felix!” Crowd members scream out several names and your heart rate skyrockets. 

“Oh my god, it’s Stray Kids.” You accidentally say into the mic. 

“Oh wow! Are you a Stay?” She asks you. Your head whips around and a dark blush covers your cheeks. 

Laughing nervously, you look down at the ground, suddenly sheepish. “Ah… well, yeah. I’ve been a fan of theirs for years now.”

“Did you know they were going to be here tonight?”

“I was told it was a possibility, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

Joke after joke makes the interviewer and her cameraman laugh. 

The interview continues without a hitch. But the entire time all you want to do is turn around  and see if you can catch a glimpse of Stray Kids. 

Yes, you’re famous. But you’re just a Stay at heart. 

You say your goodbyes with the interviewer and turn to move onto the next one. 

A gasp catches in your throat as soon as you step away. 

All eight of them are right there, doing their own interview with Buzzfeed. They’re smiling and laughing about something. 

You’re just able to stare. They’re right there. You’ve never been in the same space as them. 

Act professional, Y/N! Stop acting like a fangirl, you’re literally on the clock right now!

Their laughter is contagious and you find yourself smiling as you turn away and walk to another interviewer trying to flag you down. 

“… excited to maybe meet tonight? You guys are usually at music award shows, so this is definitely new for you! There’s some new faces that you probably have never seen before.”

“We actually were just talking about this on the ride over,” Chan says to the interviewer, ever the front man. “We’re all huge fans of Kings and Pirates, we watch it together every week when new episodes come out. We joked that it would be an amazing opportunity to say hi to Y/N L/N.”

It’s like the red carpet is pulled right out from underneath your feet. 

“But that would be like trying to get a private conversation with royalty, you know?”

You? They want to meet you? They watch your show? Every week? Together? 

“I think I just saw her around…” the interviewer trails off, by her tone you can tell she’s looking around for you. 

Act casual, Y/N. Pretend like you weren’t listening to every word of their interview closely. Act normal for once in your life.

“Ah, no way.” Chan’s thick accent reaches your ears. He sounds so shy by his tone. Several other members murmur and tease one another. 

“Oh, there she is! Y/N!” The interviewer grabs your attention— she technically already had it. 

The members begin to get louder when you turn your head to look at the entire group of them staring at you. 

When your eyes meet all of theirs, each of them freeze like a deer in headlights. Do they even know who they are?

You can’t tell if you’ve gone sheet white or bright red. Your heart is beating so fast it might explode. 

The interviewer waves you over, you look over at the other one you were walking to and hold up a finger to say ‘one moment’ before walking over to the large group of them. 

“Hi, hi!” You cheer casually when you come up next to them. 

All right members look absolutely starstruck. Jeongin’s eyes look like they might bug out of his head. 

They all bow politely when you join the group. 

Chan’s bow is a second later than everyone else’s. He’s too busy staring in absolute disbelief. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” the interviewer says. You think you recognize her from another event. 

“You as well,” you respond with a beautiful smile.

“Let’s get you a mic— oh, we have no more— maybe someone— can share?”

Chan is the member closest to you, he immediately angles the mic your way. He does it so fast and eagerly it almost hits right into you. 

You giggle and thank him, “Thank you! It’s good to see you too,” you repeat and step a bit closer to him to make sharing easier. 

He smells so good. You can feel his body heat radiating onto your bare shoulders. Thankfully, the outdoor chill isn't affecting you much due to your adrenaline being so high. 

“Y/N, before I ask anything else, I do need to ask who you’re wearing.”

“Oh, a Christian Siriano original with accessories by Gucci and shoes by Prada.”

“Absolutely stunning,” the interviewer compliments. 

A light giggle comes from your chest and you go to thank her. It’s under his breath but you hear Chan say something along the lines of ‘that’s an understatement.’

“I did call you over here for a specific reason, besides the fact that we would love to interview a nominee for Best Actress. It seems you have eight fans all eager to meet you!”

You turn and look over at the members with wide eyes. “Oh my god!” You say out loud and your hand flies to your chest. “I am literally honored!”

“You know Stray Kids?” The interviewer asks. 

Well, if they already said they were fans… 

You lean down into the mic and laugh, “I have been a Stay for so long, are you kidding?”

Every single one of them don shocked expressions. Chan goes stiff as a board. 

You look at each of them with one of the most gorgeous smiles across your face. “When I was called over here with you guys I thought I was going to pass out. I had your discography playing in the room while my stylists got me ready.”

All eight of them move around like little kids meeting their idols for the first time. They each stare at you with literal stars in their eyes. 

“The first album that caught my attention was In Life, actually. Haven is my favorite song.”

You rain compliment after compliment down on them.

“It’s truly an honor to meet you, we’re all such huge fans.” Felix is the one that breaks the silence into the mic. The rest of them all nod eagerly. 

“Since we’re all fans of Kings and Pirates,” the interviewer brings your attention back. “Do you think you could give us a small spoiler for the new season coming out?”

“Ah,” you laugh and look around a bit, sucking your teeth in thought. “I reaaally shouldn’t, but…” You look to the side to make eye contact with all the members but Chan’s piercing gaze is the one that stole your breath away. 

His stylist had done his hair in such a natural, curly way. Every single strand is sitting perfectly on his head. The makeup on his face highlights his features angelically. 

Especially that beautiful nose of his. 

Each of them wore black tie suits with a bit of personal flair on them. Chan’s entire suit, including the undershirt and tie, was black. 

It takes a moment for your brain to reboot, not that anyone noticed. To them, it just looked like you were thinking of a small spoiler to give away. 

“I think that fans can look forward to seeing an old face that we previously had to say goodbye to.”

Jeongin eagerly grabs Han’s arm and says something in his ear. The two of them start whispering about what the spoiler could possibly mean. 

The rest of them all move around anxiously. Except Chan. He continues to stare at you with his lips parted slightly. 

You hold his eye contact for one more moment before looking back at the interviewer with a sinfully sweet smile. 

“Wow!” She says over-dramatically on purpose, “I think us fans have a lot to look forward to. Best of luck to all of you with your nominations tonight!”

“Thank you so much!” You chirp into the mic and stand there with a smile while she does her required sign off to go back to the main camera back in LA. 

During those few moments, you feel Chan shift his weight so that his entire arm brushes against yours. Goosebumps immediately fly up your shoulder and through your neck. 

It takes every muscle in your body not to react to it.

He’s still holding the mic between the two of you just in case you need to speak again. You want to turn your head and look at him so badly. 

You want to talk to him in the worst way; ask him questions about the music, even just how his day is, anything. 

The cameras cut and you instantly let out a sigh of relief, next to you, you see the eight of them deflate a bit too. 

The interviewer says her thanks and the crew takes the mics back from everyone. 

“It really was a pleasure meeting you guys,” you say with your hand on your heart again. “Words cannot describe how honored I am to be talking to you all.”

“Are you kidding?” Chan jokes. “We all feel the same way. I don’t think we even thought we would be able to stand near you tonight.”

You laugh and see your agent signaling you out of the corner of your eye. 

“Bah! I’m just a girl, really! Best of luck to you guys tonight, I’ll be cheering extra loud from the crowd when you win!”

“The same goes for us,” Chan smiles. He sticks his hand out and you immediately grab it. 

Electricity shoots up your arm and you have to bite your cheek to keep yourself from screaming. 

Your hands shake and you say your goodbyes to each of the members before walking away to your next interview. 

As soon as they think you’re out of earshot, they all begin talking rapidly to one another about you. 

“Can you believe it?”

“She’s a Stay!”

“Oh my god, I think I blacked out, did that really happen?”

“You lucky bastard, you got to shake her hand and share your mic with her.”

“Stop acting like a middle schooler.”

Their voices fade into the background the further you get from them. You just can’t help but smile and look down at the floor sheepishly. 

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

“I’ll find you after the awards show, okay, hon?” Your agent catches your attention as you walk into the auditorium. 

She grabs both of your forearms lightly and kisses your cheek. “Best of luck to you, don’t make yourself look stupid on stage.”

That last part is whispered into your ear and it makes you laugh. “I won’t! I won’t!”

She says her goodbyes once more and you look up at the usher waiting for you. 

This award show has its nominees all sitting around large dinner tables. There’s about ten people per table. 

For your show, you were the only one nominated for an award tonight, so not even your director or crew was here to sit with you. 

The usher held out his arm for you to take and you did so with a gracious smile. There’s a reason you’re known for charming everyone you meet. 

He leads you through the vast room. Several fellow actors call your name and greet you, and you respond to each one happily. 

“Here we are, Miss Y/N.”

No way. Absolutely no way. 

Seated around the entire table are the eight members you saw mere minutes ago, their manager taking the ninth seat. 

Sure enough, your name is printed on a sign draped over the back of the chair. 

Minho looks up at you first and waves sheepishly. You immediately wave back.

If Lee Minho waves, you wave back. 

“Hi again!” You greet them all before turning up and gently laying a hand on the usher’s bicep to thank him. He bows his head once and walks off. 

Chan, who was seated next to your empty chair, practically springs out of his seat and stands next to you. 

“I can’t believe this,” you tell him with a wide smile. He mirrors it and holds his hand out to the chair. 

You laugh while he grabs the back of it and pulls it out from the table. 

It takes a little bit of special maneuvering, but you manage to fold your poofy skirt down in order to sit down. Chan pushes your chair back in and takes his seat next to you. 

He now sits on your left, Seungmin on your right. 

“I guess I would’ve met you guys tonight regardless, then!” 

“It seems that way,” Chan answers. He reaches up and rubs the side of his neck with his hand. 

Now, from years of being a fan, you know that’s a nervous tick of his. And with your friendly nature, all you want to do is soothe him. 

“It’s like I’m getting a deluxe, VIP fan meeting. When Stay watches the award ceremony they’re all going to put a bounty on my head.” 

They all laugh and you turn to look at Seungmin, “Can I have an autograph before I die? I didn’t bring any of my albums with me, though.”

He laughs at your joke and your heart smiles with his beautiful grin. 

“I knew I should’ve brought a photocard with me.”

Behind you, Chan shifts around. “You bought our albums?”

You turn back to him, “Of course I did. I wanted to support you guys. Best way to do that is streaming your music and buying the albums, right?”

“Yeah,” he answers nervously, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth. “Yeah, you’re right. Just didn’t think I’d ever meet a celebrity I admired and find out they’re a Stay.”

You giggle and lean forward on the table. “I hope that’s not weird. I think I would’ve exploded if I didn’t tell you guys how big of a fan I was.”

“Not weird at all, just unexpected.”

“I guess I feel the same way, especially after hearing that you guys watch the show.”

“We love the show!” Han tells you from across the table. “Sometimes Minho will cut dance rehearsals early for us to go back and watch it.”

“Seriously?” you ask. “Wow, that really means a lot, you have no idea.”

“It’s easy to be a fan of yours,” Chan grabs your attention. “You’re one of the kindest people we’ve met in a while.”

Oh, you are practically kicking your feet around. 

“Fame is a whole other universe to tackle. I wanted to make sure I treat my fans and everyone around me the way I wanted to be treated before all this happened to me. It’s important not to lose yourself. But I know you guys all know that already. You’re masters at it.”

“Hyunjin still lets it get to his head.” Felix jokes. 

“What!”

The pre-show continues like this as the rest of the celebrities file in. Many stop by your chair and say hello to you.

With each one, you get up out of your seat, hug and kiss them hello, then sit back down only to be interrupted again. 

“You certainly are popular,” Chan comments after you say goodbye to a fellow actor. “That last guy crossed the room to come say hi to you.”

With a giggle, you joke, “Is someone jealous?”

He stiffens for a moment, his back going straight and he clenches his fists on the tabletop for a moment. “No.”

His answer is not firm at all. 

Before you’re able to analyze it, producers come out among the audience to tell everyone the cameras are about to begin rolling. 

“When is your award in the lineup?” You whisper over to Seungmin. 

“Right before yours, actually.”

“Maybe I’ll see you all backstage then.”

You both smile at each other and shift back in your chairs. 

Several cameramen come out into the audience with their large sets of equipment. One of them is very obviously hovering by you. 

You know he’ll signal you if you’re being shown. The teleprompters strategically placed along the venue also show what is being broadcasted. 

Opening music begins playing and the lights dim among the audience. The centerpieces on the tables give off an evening glow. 

A waiter comes over and places your drink on the table. You actually had forgotten you requested one before sitting down. 

You thank him and he takes his leave. 

“What’s that?” Chan whispers in your ear. 

“Espresso martini,” you answer. “Wanna try?”

Chan looks over at his manager, who is busy watching the host make his opening speech. He nods quickly and leans down, taking a long sip off the top. 

A tiny ‘mmm’ comes from the back of his throat and he looks at you while licking his lips a bit. 

“Oh that’s delicious.”

“And dangerous.”

You lift the glass and take a long sip from it and place it back down on the table. 

“I got my first major role fresh out of college. I’m still learning how to not rely on alcohol to have fun.”

Chan just laughs and both of you direct your attention to the host on stage. 

“-and if all else fails, we have our lovely knight in shining armor to protect us, tonight.”

The camera man turns and has the camera on your face. You smile brightly and blow a kiss into the camera. The entire audience lets out several positive reactions. 

When the camera cuts away, you let out a sigh of relief. “I knew they were gonna do that.”

You take another large swig of your drink. It’s almost empty already. Curse these fancy people and their tiny portions. 

Chan leans over and suddenly his hot breath is on your skin. Goosebumps rip down your body and you can’t suppress a shiver. 

“Careful,” he whispers lowly. “I don’t think you want to be stumbling onto the stage.”

“I think you underestimate my alcohol tolerance, Mr. Bang.”

You both make eye contact.

The audience applauds as the host leaves the stage and the first announcer comes on. Both of you clap and Chan leans away from you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth.

His cologne lingers around your senses even after he’s gone. 

Dammit, he’s right. But, my god, you need another stiff drink.

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

“And here are the nominees…” The announcer says into the mic. The entire table is holding their breath. 

This was it, this was Stray Kids’ award. Your jaw clenches with anticipation as the names are read off one by one. Individually, you crack each of your knuckles anxiously.

All eight of the members are staring up at the screen, each of them have their own nervous ticks. 

You reach under the table to try and comfort Chan a bit, your hand landing on his knee. He jumps in place at the table at the contact.

Without looking at each other, he places his hand on top of your and squeezes a bit.

“It’s going to suck when I have to sit here by myself after you guys win.” you whisper to him.

“If we win.”

“You’re going to win.” You squeeze his knee again.

“And the winner is…” 

You suck in a breath, all of them stiffen up. Cameras are pointed at each of the nominees tables. 

“Stray Kids!”

Immediately, you spring out of your seat with a gleeful cheer. Clapping your hands together and smiling at each of them. 

Without a second thought, Chan wraps you into a grand hug, pure joy written across his face. Your face morphs into a shocked one, but you hug him back happily.

He’s so warm. His hug is so tight.

After a few heartbeats, he tears himself off of you with an unreadable expression. All eight of them walk up to the stage and grab the award from the presenter.

Sitting back down, you take a second to catch your breath. 

So badly, you want to focus on their acceptance speech, but all you can think about was the way Chan held you. It went straight to your heart, and thanks to the alcohol in your veins, it traveled a bit south as well. 

Nervously, your hand comes up and rubs at your chest by your collarbones, a small nervous tick of yours.

The table feels so empty without the eight of them there. Their manager is the only one left sitting there with you. He’s watching their speech intently.

Both of you stand and clap once more as they walk off the stage. All of them pushing each other gleefully and playing slap ass. It makes you giggle.

All of the lights around the room shift again and another announcer comes into the stage. The same camera man as before comes around the side of the table to stand closer to you.

The announcer goes through their speech about how important actresses are, how each of you stood out, how it was an honorable nomination. Your heart is in your throat, you can feel each thud against your ribcage so closely. 

No one was next to you to hold your knee. 

“And the nominees are…”

Various clips of the other nominees in their element flash behind their names.

Your name is third. Several different dramatic scenes play out within the five second window. They chose some of your best scenes for that little animation. The next few nominees flash after that.

“And the winner is…”

You suck in your breath.

“Y/N L/N! King and Pirates!”

The entire audience erupts in cheers. Practically everyone stands up on their feet.

You bury your face in your hands in disbelief. 

“Oh my god!” you practically yell as you stand up. 

An actor from the next table places his hand on your back to help you out of your chair. You smile gratefully at him and make your way up to the stage. 

During the entire walk, several different people offer you their congratulations, you thank each of them, shaking their hands. 

Climbing your way onto the stage, you make your way over to the announcer, kissing their cheeks as a thank you and turning to speak into the mic.

“Oh wow,” you laugh into the mic, looking down at the award and then back up at the audience. “I know everyone says this, but I really did not expect this! I mean, have you seen any of the other shows?”

A gentle laugh comes from the crowd. 

The rest of your acceptance speech is short, sweet, and to the point. The timer on one of the teleprompters definitely motivated you to speak quickly. 

As you walk away with your award, music plays behind you. A stage manager comes up to you and ushers you through the wings.

Several more congratulations come your way, you respond to each of them humbly.

You turn a corner and are met with a cheer even louder than the one from the auditorium full of people. 

All eight members of Stray Kids are clapping for you, jumping up and down in excitement. Your enthusiasm immediately matches theirs as you come up to them.

“I can’t believe it!” you say loudly, holding the award out to look at. “I think I’m dreaming!”

You turn and look up at Hyunjin, “Pinch me, I have to be asleep!”

He laughs at you and lightly grabs your arm. You yip dramatically and look back down at the trophy. “Nope, definitely awake!”

“If you guys would please find your seats, we need to clear this hallway.” a stagehand ushers your group away. He turns and looks down at you with a soft smile, “They wouldn’t leave until you came back.”

“Aww,” you coo to all of them. Your arm wraps around Jeongin’s, who happens to be the closest at the moment. “You guys are too sweet!” 

Your head rests on his arm and you hug it close as a thank you. He pats your hand and bends his arm to escort you back to your table.

A pair of deep brown eyes burn into the side of your head the more you grab onto Jeongin. Not that you noticed. 

Walking through the hallways, you see one back hall that has signs for the bathroom.

“Actually, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room before going back to the table. I’ll meet you guys back there. Do you mind taking this back to the table for me?”

You drop Jeongin’s arm and hold the trophy out to him. The maknae is hesitant, but takes your award anyway. You laugh at him and rub his arm before you head back to the bathroom.

“Am I allowed to be holding this?” he asks as you walk away.

The venue was a grand, old hotel, you follow so many twists and turns to get to the bathroom. Was there even one back here?

Did you take a wrong turn? There aren’t even workers back here. 

You definitely aren’t supposed to be back here. Turning back and finding another bathroom is probably the best option at this point. 

A gentle grasp on your wrist makes your heart jump and a gasp tear from your throat. Frightened, you turn around and raise your hand to hit whoever snuck up on you. 

“Y/N! It’s just me!” Chan says quickly, cowering behind his hand just in case you still swing. 

“Ugh, Chan! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, I called your name a few times, I guess you didn’t hear me.” You shake your head, he sucks his teeth. “That explains it. Staff told me there’s no bathroom down here, I wanted to grab you before you got too lost.”

Chan chuckles nervously, you laugh too. “That explains it. I guess those signs must’ve been extras that they printed for the venue. Who knows?”

It’s now that you notice he’s still holding your wrist tightly in his hand. His hand is so warm, so soft. 

He nervously licks his lips and his eyes look all around the hall, anywhere but at you. His throat bobs with a gulp. 

“I don’t ah— I don’t believe I gave you a proper congratulations. So, congratulations on the award. You deserve it.”

“Oh!” You giggle. “Thank you! And a hearty congratulations to you as well, I can’t think of anyone who’s worked harder than you guys.”

Taking another step closer to him, you turn your wrist around and take a hold of his hand.

“I also can’t think of any other celebrities I would want to celebrate with.” The corners of your lips pull into a grin, Chan’s twitch as well. “You guys are so sweet, cheering for me. Made the win that much better.”

Slowly, his ears begin to turn red and his jaw clenches a few times. His chocolate brown eyes flit all over your face and around the hall. His nerves on clear display. 

“Yeah, well, you deserve it, so.” Chan clears his throat and adjusts the tie around his neck. “I can’t take credit for it, it was Changbin’s idea to wait for you and all.” 

You reach up on your toes and press a long, soft kiss to his cheek. With his lips right by your ear, you’re able to hear him gasp under his breath and then stop breathing. 

Underneath your lips, you feel how much heat is radiating off his smooth skin. It’s like you kissed a frying pan. 

“Thank you, Channie,” you whisper against his skin. 

The hand around yours twitches and tightens. 

You press another kiss to his cheek before going to back away. 

Quicker than you can blink, Chan’s free hand comes around your body and holds you against him. His hand curls around you to press into the small of your back. 

Your head tucks under his chin, ear against the dip of his throat. His heart is beating just as fast as yours. 

“Not yet,” he whispers so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “Please, not yet.”

Your heart thuds in your chest at his words. How could you not? The Bang Chan is asking you to stay closer to him for just a little while longer. The same man you’ve admired from a distance for years. 

The man who created such a deep parasocial relationship with you that it took a lot of self reflection to bring yourself out of it. And now, here you were, in his arms in real life, tucked away in the hallway of this hotel. 

Smelling his expensive cologne and aftershave, listening to his shallow breathing, the entire world seems to stop. If your past self could see this, she’d probably pass out. 

Hell, you might pass out now. 

You squeeze his hand once and he responds with a grip of his own. 

Slowly, you pull your head back to gaze up at him. He stares down at you with the most thoughtful expression. 

Eyes are windows to the soul; and right now, his soul is so flustered and fulfilled at the same time. 

“I can’t believe tonight is real,” you murmur. 

Several times, you catch Chan’s eyes flicking down to your lips. Each stolen glance adds another butterfly to your stomach. 

His hand on your back pulls you even closer. 

“You keep talking as if you’re not one of the biggest names in the world right now.” he teases and you chuckle softly. “If anyone should be pinching themself, it’s me.”

His breath is cool and minty. Yours is tinged with espresso. 

Your tongue comes out and licks your bottom lip before you pull it between your teeth. Chan watches, trying not to make it obvious. 

“Can I try something?” Your question is deathly quiet. If it wasn’t for the silence of the hallway, there’s no way he would have heard it otherwise. 

“Yes,” he replies immediately. It comes out as a huff; quick, short, and desperate. 

“Close your eyes, Chan.”

He listens right away, his eyes snapping shut. 

You hesitate for a split second, just taking in his ethereal beauty. Every curve of his gorgeous, blemish free face. It’s not fair.

Both of his hands twitch, his jaw clenches. 

You lean up slowly and press a featherlight kiss on his plush lips. 

His shoulders seem to sag inwards, a large, relieved exhale leaves his nose. 

Fireworks explode behind your eyes, tingles shoot down into your fingertips. 

You pull back after a second, his eyes open a bit and Chan stares down at you, his lips parting for a moment. 

He stares intently into your eyes, as if trying to read you or see something within them. 

Without breaking eye contact, he leans down and kisses you again. You melt into the kiss with half lidded eyes, they unfocus as you fall further into his kiss. 

Chan pulls back for a moment to turn his head and capture your lips once more, his bottom lip slotting between yours. 

Both of your eyes shut. 

Your hands move and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours as he kisses you like his life depends on it. 

Chan holds your waist with both hands, the heat from his hold going right through your dress. 

Each kiss is hot and heavier than the last. His grips at your dress grow needier and needier by the second, he can’t hold you close enough to his body.

Within moments, you’re both opening and closing your mouths, with open mouthed, wet, sloppy kisses. His eyebrows pull together.

Erotic pants fill the empty hallway.

You ever so gently bite down on his bottom lip and pull your head back. 

Chan sighs and his half lidded, hazy eyes look down into yours as his lip snaps back after you release it. 

He takes two long steps and walks you backwards until your back hits the wall. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips before capturing them in another heated kiss. “You’ll have to tell me. I can’t do it myself. Not when I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Your fingers thread up through his hair on the back of his head and you pull him closer against you. 

Tangled tongues and gentle grunts mix together. 

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” you ask lowly in between kisses. 

Chan groans and presses his entire body into yours. 

You felt like you’re on fire with the way you’re so feverishly pulling him closer. 

One his hands moves up and down your waist. The puffiness of your skirt getting in the way of his hips grinding directly into yours. 

“So beautiful,” he mutters between kisses. “So gorgeous.” Kiss. “Wanted you for so long.”

It’s your turn to moan at his praise, you suck on his tongue and his eyes roll back in his skull. 

When you pull away from each other panting, you look around in the hallway. There’s a door right next to you both, where it leads, you’re not sure. 

Chan kisses your cheek and then makes his way down your neck with his lips. 

“Chan,” you moan out. 

“Yeah, baby?”

Fuck. That goes right to your head and makes your stomach flip. 

He presses another wet kiss to your exposed collarbone and your head tilts back, knocking against the wall. He’s making it impossible to try and get any words out.

The hand on your ribcage squeezes when you let out a breathy exhale. 

“Did you need something?” he mouths against your neck and bites down right after. 

Oh, that cocky motherfucker. 

“Fuck, Chan…!” You pull at his hair. 

He brings his head up with a dopey look on his face, eyes half lidded and hazy. 

“Hm?” he hums and leans in, pressing another kiss to your check. 

One of your hands comes down and runs over his chest. You grab a hold of his tie and twist it around your hand before yanking on it. Your lips are right next to his ear and you make sure to let out hot exhales.

Chan gasps and presses a hand on the wall next to your head to keep his balance. A shiver wracks his body.

“You’re starting something you can’t finish.” The low, gravel timbre of your voice shocks even you for a moment. It’s raspy and sexy. It has an effect it has on Chan immediately. His pupils dilate and he takes a sharp intake of air.

“Oh, princess,” Chan bites your earlobe before blowing against it lightly. “I’ve never started something I didn’t intend on finishing.”

God, his voice. It’s like running your fingers over velvet. You yank his tie to the side and drag him towards the room like he’s on a leash.

Chan lets out a surprised grunt, but follows you nonetheless. Just like your little puppy begging you for your attention.

The entire walk over to the door, his hands are on your body. Anywhere Chan can reach, he’s touching you. 

When you push open the door, you’re happily surprised to find an empty dressing room. All the lights are off– perfect.

Once you both are inside, the door shuts and you push Chan against the back of it. Your lips desperately smashing together.

He’s everywhere on your body. His hands don’t stay in the same place for more than two seconds before he’s groping somewhere else. 

Blindly, he reaches for the door handle and clicks the lock in place. 

Your fist is still tightly curled around his tie, you wind it around your hand a few more times while your tongues tango. Sinfully wet noises emanate from your locked lips. Your other hand runs down his chest to unbutton his blazer.

Chan pushes off the wall and shucks the blazer off his shoulders, dropping it onto the ground. 

Never once do his lips leave yours. He’s intoxicating, you can’t get enough and neither can he.

He backs you up again until your ass hits a counter.

In one smooth movement, Chan reaches down and grabs your waist and lifts you onto the countertop. Your legs part and he stands in between them.

“This fucking dress,” he growls against your lips and nips your bottom one lightly. Desperately, he begins grabbing at the fabric, bunching it up around your hips. Underneath, you’re still clothed in stockings, corsets, spandex shorts, and many more.

He doesn’t seem to care. With both hands now grabbing your nylon-clad thighs, he brings both of your legs to wrap around his waist.

As soon as both of your hips meet, moans leave both of your mouths and you swallow each other’s. He’s hard as a fucking rock against you. So many layers of clothing separate the two of you from one another, it’s endlessly frustrating.

You pull his tie even tighter and one of his hands comes down to grip the edge of the counter for balance. 

Your hips roll against his once and he has to tighten his grip so much his knuckles turn white. 

“Do it again,” he whines against your mouth.

Who are you to say no? 

Again, you roll your hips up into his. This time, his hard cock rubs right against your clothed clit. It’s just enough to send a ripple down your legs and into your toes and they curl in your Prada heels.

You don’t stop in between hip rolls this time, you do it again and again and again. Each one feels better than the next.

It’s like your head goes underwater, deep within the riptide of the oceans of pleasure. 

And by the noises that are coming out of Chan’s mouth, you know he feels the same way. 

His hips begin to meet your thrusts with his own. Both of you are grinding into each other like teenagers in your parents’ basement. 

But you both are so needy at this moment that you’ll take anything you can get to scratch that insatiable itch. 

With each thrust, his exhales get heavier and heavier, whimpers and whines come out in between them. 

Your head kicks back against the mirror behind you after one particularly delicious roll. There’s no way you’re even on planet Earth right now with how much he’s making your body thrum.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he moans out and kisses your bare shoulder. 

You pull on his tie absentmindedly while you cry out when he thrusts even harder. 

“Wanna hear those moans with you on my cock,” he hisses when your legs tighten around his waist. “If I’m making you feel this good without touching you, think of how loud you’ll scream when I can finally fuck you into my mattress.”

“Chan-!” you whimper, your eyes squint closed, mouth falling open.

How is he so fucking good at this? Those dancer hips are merciless. It sends just the right amount of pleasure through your body.

“You know that Vogue photoshoot you did last month?” he moans into your ear, his lips right next to it. 

Your Vogue photoshoot was a borderline boudoir shoot. Only a black sheet covered you in most of your shots.

All you’re able to do is whine out an “uh-huh”.

“Babygirl, I can’t even think about that shoot without my cock getting hard. God, fu–huck! Shit.”

He’s going to make you cum just by grinding on you. You can feel it coming closer and closer. 

One of his hands travels up your body to grab at the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your jawline while he licks and nips at the other side. 

“Want you to pose like that for me. I want you all to myself.” He sounds like he would eat you whole if he could. And fuck, you would let him.

He could tell you to get on your knees and bark right now and you would.

“Close, Chan…” you whimper.

Just hearing that he’s going to make you cum makes his eyes roll in his skull. Every single wet dream of his is coming true under his own two hands. He has Y/N L/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, his cock pressed against her clothed cunt, her skin in his mouth.

Is this what winning felt like?

“You gonna cum for me babygirl?” he hisses and bites your neck.

“Yes! Shit! Don’t stop, please!”

When you try to meet his thrusts, your hips stutter, they’re unable to keep up with how fast he begins moving.

“Need you to cum, babygirl, need it so bad. Need it like I need oxygen.” Chan’s hand moves and he pulls your lips together.

He’s all consuming.

Three more thrusts and your body seizes, your orgasm gripping you so tightly that you think you might black out. 

You break free from his kiss to throw your head back. It thuds against the mirror. Your legs tighten around him so much he can barely move.

Chan rolls his hips a few more times, letting you ride out your mind-blowing orgasm. Each one is slower and more sensual than the last.

After a few seconds, your legs loosen up a bit around him. Chan trails softer kisses down your neck, over both of your collarbones, then back up to your cheeks.

They’re gentle and sweet. So different from the way he was absolutely devouring you mere moments ago.

“Chan,” you pant out. “Let me help you.”

“Soon, baby. Not here.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold card– a hotel roomkey. 

Chan leans forward and presses a long kiss to your swollen lips. While he’s attached to you, he slips the roomkey into the top of your dress where your breasts sat.

“The Mark, room 103. Fuck The Plaza, you have your own afterparty to attend to.”

[lialacleaf]

Simon Riley x Reader

Bella Notte - Pt. 1

Synopsis: Simon’s dog REALLY likes you. And maybe Simon does too. It’s hard to make a move on you though when Riley is determined to embarrass him.

Art by @shkretart because their Simon is my favorite~

Warnings: second hand embarrassment, no editing

It was that time of year between the light chill of fall and the frost of winter, when you needed a coat in the morning and gloves to keep your fingers from going stiff, only to shed your layers for a light jacket until the sun started to set in the early evening.

It was raining again, and as you glanced up at the grey sky from under your umbrella you wondered if the whether persisted into the night you might wake up to a frozen driveway.

Your eyes darted over the address on your phone screen for the hundredth time as you approached the gated neighborhood, taking note of the quaint townhouses smooshed together. You approached the gate with some apprehension, taking note of the security guard who looked ready to defend his post with his very life despite being armed with only a taser.

“Afternoon, Miss,” he greeted, tipping his head at you. Police officers in London were polite more often than not, but you still got a little nervous about speaking to them. The second you opened your mouth they either thought you were a tourist, or coming around to cause trouble.

“Hi, I’m here for-“ you paused to check the address once more. “33 B,” you said, showing him your phone screen that displayed the quaint little pet-service app. “I’m a pet sitter.”

He looked at you contemplatively for a moment, and you swallowed thickly. “You from around these parts?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I moved to York a few months ago,” you explained, preparing to pull out your IDs when he held up a hand.

“You met the fellow that lives there before?” He asked warily, and you frowned.

“Not in person, but he passed the background check so I’m sure it’s alright,” you argued.

He gave you a good look, as if he were trying to memorize you appearance before nodding to himself and swiping his badge. The gate opened with a mechanical whirring and he beckoned you inside.

You shook your head at the exchange, shoving your phone back into the pocket of your raincoat.

33B appeared to be a relatively new unit, the paint on the door appearing fresh as if it had just been done in the past few days.

There was no welcome mat, and the front porch seemed rather bare. You half expected one of those ‘Home of a German Shepherd’ signs to be hanging on the front door, but there was very little to indicate you were in the right place.

Regardless, you knocked on the door, noticing the lack of a bell.

There was no answer.

You knocked again, this time a little harder.

“Hello? Is anyone there? It’s y/n from TailWag!” You called. You were just about to turn around when the door swung open, revealing a tall man with soft eyes and a thick mustache. He seemed surprised to see you before offering you a polite smile.

“Are you…Simon?” You asked, but the man shook his head. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I-“

“No, no. You’re in the right place. Was just on my way out.” He nodded to you with a smile, stepping around you as he let himself out.

Your watched him leave, brown raised curiously before the clearing of a throat had your head swiveling around.

The sight that greeted you had you feeling like a gnome in the presence of a giant. The man was tall, with a head of messy blonde hair and piercing brown as that had you shaking a little in your bright yellow rain boots.

“Oh.”

He regarded you warily with a raised brow. “Y/n?”

You nodded quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. There was something so commanding about the way he spoke.

“Right. Come in.”

His home was just as sparse on the inside as it was on the outside. “Sorry if this was a bad time.”

“It’s the time we agreed on,” he stated flatly.

“Right, I just- you had company, and I didn’t mean to interrupt…” you trailed off as he continued to stare at you with that piercing gaze. “So Riley? Where is she?” You asked, getting to the reason for your visit.

Simon let out a sharp whistle that made you jump, and the sound of feet running down the stairs alerted you to the incoming of the four legged creature.

You watched the dog bound around the corner and into the living room, tongue killing and amber eyes alight.

A smile broke out on your face as you kneeled down to give the dog some attention. “Hello there,” you cooed, scratching her behind the ears. “Aren’t you a pretty girl.”

“What brings an American out to York Minster?” He asked, regaining your attention. His eyes were cold and calculating.

“Right. My father moved out here after he and my mother split. He left her out of the will so I came to sell his home when he passed but..the gothic cathedrals kinda grew on me, and I got rather inspired so I decided to stay. Wasn’t much left on the mortgage anyhow,” you explained.

He raised both brows at you curiously. “And you pay for that with dog-sitting?”

You shook your head. “Absolutely not, I’m a Ghost Writer. It makes good money. The dog-sitting is so I feel less lonely,” you said, returning your attention to bestowing Riley with your affection and massaging the scruff around her neck.

“Why not just get a dog?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You glanced up at him, awkwardly meeting his gaze. “I uhh, I had one, passed away shortly after my Dad. I think she missed him. I haven’t been ready to move on,” you admitted, feeling rather put on the spot with the way Simon was watching you as if he were looking for a flaw, or a reason to kick you out of his home.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, and you loosed a breath. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going to end up with a knife in your throat if you made one wrong move. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks at a time. You live around here?” He asked curtly.

You didn’t like the way he looked at you. It felt…judgmental, as if he were trying to decide if you were trustworthy, or if you were plotting some evil deed. “I live in the other side of town.”

He nodded. “Feel free to use the spare room, the place is more hers than it is mine at this point. She deserves a good retirement,” he said gesturing to the dog.

You blinked as realization finally set in. “Oh! Your military! I see now,” you said, glancing down at Riley who was still patiently seated beside her master.

“So you’re not retired?” You asked, and he nodded. “There are plenty of adoption agencies, and families that take on service animals-“

“I’m her family,” he interrupted, sounding very close to having snapped at you, and you winced.

“Right! Of course, I just meant that pet-sitters are expensive and-“

“You’re concerned I can’t afford to pay you?” He asked gruffly.

“No! No I- That’s not what I meant,” you palmed your face as you stood to your full height, which wasn’t much compared to his. “I’ve been doing this since I was in college and I’ve had more than a few cases of abandonment. It’s usually the ones that are gone a lot. I just wanna know what I’m getting into, alright?” You explained, holding your hands out peacefully as if you were trying to convince a wolf animal not to attack you.

You briefly noted that Riley seems much more manageable than her handler. You, however, we’re too soft hearted, and he simply had to understand that if you were going to care for Riley.

He eyed you for a moment, before nodding in understanding. “If I ever don’t make it back arrangements will be made. You won’t need to worry about that,” he assured you.

You let out a relieved sigh. “Good. We’re on the same page then.”

He nodded in agreement, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop staring at you like he was deciding how to go about skinning you alive.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you said, patting Riley on the head much to her delight.

“My flight leaves early in the morning. I’ll text you a code for the front door.”

Your forced a smile as offered him you hand in a friendly gesture. “Perfect.” He didn’t accept your offered hand, but you weren’t too disappointed. You were just grateful you wouldn’t have to see him for the next few weeks.

AN: ahhh this one is gonna be fun! The inspiration for this story came from my own fur babies, one of which I’m using as my visual for Riley. Can’t wait to share part 2!

[ma1dita]

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

[marxo-fm]

Take me to Church

✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist

Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.

A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!

—

The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.

You memorized their names.

There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.

Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.

Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.

You’d get scolded by your Catholic parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.

You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.

“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can’t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.

You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”

He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.

You chopped it.

“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.

It’s John.

“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.

“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.

“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.

“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”

John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.

A spark.

“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.

Forgive me for my sins.

You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.

—

“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.

How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.

Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.

You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.

You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.

But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.

It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.

You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.

Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.

You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.

You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.

You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.

You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.

—

The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.

You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.

He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.

"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."

A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.

"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."

You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.

"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.

John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.

--

"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.

"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."

"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."

You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.

"Damnit,"

"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.

"Nothin', now come on outside."

--

"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.

You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.

"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.

"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."

You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.

"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."

"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.

--

You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.

He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.

But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.

You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.

You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.

But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.

Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.

It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.

There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.

You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.

So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.

You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.

He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.

'Just like that.'

'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."

"Attagirl, in and out."

And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.

Finally, finally, finally.

Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.

At that moment, you wanted to scream.

To run away.

To die.

He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.

You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.

A sinful girl.

"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"

"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."

You lied.

Another sin.

He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.

He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.

"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.

"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."

Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.

"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.

"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.

"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."

"Go on."

"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"

You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?

You almost can't believe it.

He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.

You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his toned dad bod was the definition of perfect.

He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.

"S'fuckin' wet."

It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.

He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.

His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.

He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.

Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.

His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.

"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."

He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.

"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.

You swore you saw Heaven.

Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.

John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.

You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.

"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.

"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.

He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.

"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.

"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.

"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.

"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"

It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.

He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.

Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.

"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.

That was a sight for sore eyes.

He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.

How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.

He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.

Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?

He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.

He stops, and you stop holding your breath.

"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"

"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."

He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.

"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.

The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.

"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.

He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.

Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.

"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.

"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.

"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."

Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.

He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.

He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.

John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.

"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.

"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."

Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.

It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.

--

A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.

This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…

[randoimago]

Can I request headcanons for gn crush fell first but Baldur's Gate 3 Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and Astarion fell harder please?

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Wyll, Halsin

Note(s): This was a lot of fun to write, hope you enjoy!

Edit: Aug 19th, just told that Gale is missing. I'll add his part when I'm able to. Thank you guys for the likes and reblogs on this post ❤️

Astarion

The signs were easy to see. The look in your eyes, the way you held yourself when you spoke to him. It was almost too easy to speak sweet words back and use your love against you. He's done it many times before, it's a twisted routine he's memorized.

You willingly let him feed from you. You listen to him finally talk about Cazador. You agree to let him have his revenge. It doesn't feel right. Manipulating you for his own gain is what he was after, but it doesn't feel right.

Astarion would never admit he's in love, it's something that he's long abandoned. How could a monster like him fall in love when an even greater monster holds his leash? But it happens and he doesn't know how to feel, what to do. There's guilt with seeing the looks you give him, the way you hold yourself. He doesn't deserve it. As much as his long-dead heart yearns for it, he doesn't know if he can ever deserve it.

Halsin

Not one to give his heart over easily. His body, sure, but not his heart. And yet there is something about you. Perhaps it's him being relieved that his trust was placed wisely with you. But hearing your flirtations has him eagerly replying.

He notices the looks you give him, the eagerness as you speak to him. Halsin can't help being amused and flattered that you are so obviously in love with him. He doesn't quite know what he did to deserve it, but he's not going to push you away. There's some things he needs to do first, promises he needs to fulfill, but afterwards he'll be happy to give you his all.

And when he finally does, he can't help how he feels in return. Halsin is old, he's lived and loved many times in the past. And he is happy to live and love with you for as long as you'll have him. And he hopes you'll have him for however long you both have.

Wyll

Honestly the one to start to have a crush on you first, but he has so much going on that he doesn't want to let himself fall in love. Not when he's a hypocrite and fraud.

But even with the Mizara reveal, even as he's forced into the hells to grow horns, even through all of that, you stay with him. You don't treat him differently, you just check on him, making sure he can still be okay despite it all. And it just makes his heart beat faster.

Doesn't even realize that you've already fallen in love with him as he's falling for you too. Inviting you to dance with him took zero effort, holding you close and looking into your eyes just made him so happy. For a moment, he wonders if he deserves this amount of happiness, but he's had so much taken from him. He'll be selfish and fall in love with you.

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations No.22: Lilith Edition Pt.2

*just based on my experiences only take what resonates

-Lilith house could show why someone wants to possess and “tame” you :

In 1st you just exude Lilith energy and a lot of mascs see that as a challenge -a challenge they want to feel dominate over (a fool’s fallacy tbh); 2nd your physicality is striking and they want it all to themselves; 3rd your fierce intelligence and academic reputation; 4th your nurturing abilities and how you exude dark femininity but you could be someone who could take care of them; 5th you seem totally wild and carefree and you know how to have fun; 6th your health and your passionate work ethic that make you come across as unstoppable; 7th I thought of that lyric “I’m so indecisive/ you can’t cuff me but I’m wifey” a lot of people see you as someone that will balance them out perfectly; 8th your s*x appeal and how your raw energy seems totally intoxicating; 9th your worldly air and how no one can stop you from speaking your truth; 10th your polarizing but memorable and powerful impact in public- you give off boss babe energy in such an effortless way; 11th how you seem like you have a lot of haters or ride or die friends; 12th your addictive aura and otherworldly untamable energy.

-Lilith conjunct your Lilith in a sex symbols chart could make you feel inspired by their style/attitude - by sign or house placement (A BUNCH of femmes I look up to have Lilith conjunct MC too)

-Lilith in Libra is a strong feminist placement- it’s the way they strive for balance even when it can be seen as taboo (Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has this placement and it’s conjunct her Sun, Mercury, Mars and MC !)

-Lilith in fire signs (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) tend to be feminists too. (It’s the “there’s no man alive who can tell me what to do” principe in their attitude)

-(light TW) in general I feel like Lilith harsh aspects, and like Lilith in hard signs (Scorpio, Capricorn, etc) and houses (8th, 12th) can make the native wary around men, usually after trusting the wrong one :/ (whatever happened was never your fault and that wrong one was just a a bad guy, I’m sorry)

-Hell I’ve had -dicey- experiences with -not so great guys- so I’ll also note that to a lesser degree it can apply to fixed Lilith signs (Scorpio, Leo, Aquarius, Taurus), and Lilith harshly aspecting 1st/7th/10th and maybe 4th.

-I totally almost got a sugar daddy a lifetime ago lol but I got afraid of getting human trafficked lol and ran off in the opposite direction Lilith square/opposition Asc bby (I’d guess Lilith conjunct, trine, and sextile Asc/2nd/10th would roll with this more easily if they wanted to)

-Said it an 18+ post, but it’s not an adults only observation imo - other girlies with fire/water Lilith placements have guys hit on them when they’re upset? (I used the example of like getting lost and heading to meet my family and an older guy tried to get me to go to his hotel room, but also more recently I -temporarily- lost my wallet and while I was searching in a panic not one but two guys hit on me :x like you’re not helping dude wtf)

-the element/sign of your Lilith can reflect someone’s sort of shadow reactions to you

Lilith in Aries could make a lot of guys compete with you; Lilith in Taurus would have someone try to buy their way into intimacy with you/try to control your finances; Lilith in Gemini would make a lot of people jump to correct you/undermine your intelligence; Lilith in Cancer could have people force you to nurture them in a sort of motherly way; Lilith in Leo could make people compete with you for attention or at worst try to trick you into having kids; Lilith in Virgo could point to people trying to micromanage you and restrict your routines; Lilith in Libra could point to people trying to tarnish your beauty and throw you off balance/force you to balance them out; Lilith in Scorpio can be scary because it points to people trying to force themselves on you/s*xually dominate you or causing your trauma in general; Lilith in Sagittarius could point to people trying to restrict your freedom/force religion on you; Lilith in Capricorn could mean that people try to sabotage your work reputation/public image; Lilith in Aquarius could point to others trying to restrict your uniqueness and trying to dull your outstanding qualities; Lilith in Pisces can point to others trying to get you addicted to substances/attacking you with their negative energy.

(I have Lilith in Leo and now years after I settled down I’ve finally realized that a lot of guys that made jokes about having kids with me and getting me to skip birth control and running off an eloping …we’re not joking) (yikes, bullets dodged)

-Ok bc we live in a society I feel like the constant overarching theme with strong Lilith energy is less that it’s bad when a dude likes you and more that some guys get so into you that they’re obsessed and also hate you but will still do anything to trap you and when men don’t need any incentive to act out, that’s so scary. Like it’s power that cuts both ways.

Now, of my favorite pieces of obscure art as a Lilith girly :0 (Thank you for asking me about this @corvoidea!)

-Zola: a str*pper meets a potential best friend and the chick tries to highkey human traffic her, it’s insane and based off of a true story (the aesthetic and everything are so good too, it’s one of my favorite movies)

-Sanctuary: this movie just came out this year but I love it so much?? It’s about a s*x worker whose main client wants to fire her because he’s about to inherit his dad’s company. And she fights back. Unexpected ending. Sort of a Lilith love story. Really funny through out.

-Paprika: my favorite animated movie? Ever?? It’s about a scientist and her alter ego that moves in and out of dreams, solving people’s subconscious problems. Then the dream tech gets stolen and things go haywire. A visual marvel fr.

-Cabaret: a movie musical about the cabaret scene in 30s Germany through a club singer trying to love to good life as things get darker all around her.

-Chicago: Another great musical all about getting famous from m*rder because of the protagonist’s feminine ways. (so good, the music is just *chef’s kiss* and Queen Latifah is in it!)

-Crazy Ex Girlfriend: a musical comedy tv show, it’s like a fun deconstruction of trying to live like you’re in a romcom. (So it’s really about mental health and all that, and it’s funny!)

And some songs I love:

Girls is all about just vibing and embracing that divine feminine

I got really into feminist punk rock (aka Riot Grrrl) when I was like a tween finding out how I wanted to express myself, I always recommend Sleater Kinney and Bikini Kill. This song is like Madonna vs Wh*re and I love it :

-idek how to explain this song lol but it’s soooooo gooood

The singer from Bikini Kill started a different band that’s also so cool and punky:

Omg this song about dealing with a f*ck boy and bonding over it I love this song:

I love how Junglep*ssy says /Ain’t a damn thing A man think gonna drive me crazy/ (Google these lyrics they’re everything and the song is a vibe):

This is my song for when I was running around with dudes I thought were tolerable enough but not great lol, I literally played this song for my friends once in college and I was like Ah, yes my creed lol (I got nicer, it’s still a fun song) :

The lyrics: /I wanna hold a seance For every heart I’ve broken Put them all in a room And say “get over it”/ and the lyric /And when I first met you I wanted to kiss you And I I wanted to need you And now I’m forgetting why I tried/ (so good):

A song to describe some of the -weird behavior- I’ve caught lol, cathartic to hear tho:

[gammasnippets]

[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP61. Spotlighting 🐼 Part.4

fromis_9 Lee Seoyeon

10,141 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop)

To review and edit a video is often more difficult than one might think. It requires keen attention to detail, making sure that every frame is flawless and the narrative flows seamlessly with no room for error. Mess up a bit and it would have to go through additional rounds of revisions. Luckily, the initial editing appears to be free of mistakes so far. You're two videos in and instead of it being one hell of a frustrating task, it's as if you're in the comfort of your home watching porn videos in private.

It's nearly time for lunch. While everyone else is thinking about where to eat and what to have, your attention is still captured by yet another mesmerizing video in front of you. After watching Jiwon and Chaeyoung get ravaged by their partners in their videos, your craving for more intense and passionate moments only grows.

A video with a Panda Thumbnail catches your attention. As you hit the play button, excitement slowly overwhelms you knowing that Seoyeon, fromis_9’s resident rapper, is the main focus of this video. You can't wait to see how things will play out for her since she can portray both the cuteness of a panda and the fierceness of a tiger on camera. Once again, the memorable intro card for "Channel_9" appears and while it plays, you decide to include a brief recap from the previous video to refresh viewers' memories.

As the intro comes to an end and the recap plays, you prepare yourself for what is about to unfold.

The video starts with a glimpse of the opulent bar interior, featuring soft lighting, plush velvet furnishings, and a stylish polished bar. The space appears vacant as though anticipating some thrilling event. Just then, the camera transitions to the entrance where Seoyeon, dressed in purple office attire, cautiously opens the sturdy wooden door and enters.

"Oh! Hello to you all," she greets the cameras as she spots them one by one with a bow.

She's immediately astounded by the stunning visuals of the bar, taking in every detail with wide eyes and a sense of wonder.

"Wow... This place is amazing," she comments as she walks further into the bar, her voice filled with awe.

As Seoyeons steps further inside, she takes in the beautiful surroundings of the bar, with its elegant decor and welcoming atmosphere. The excitement on her face becomes even more visible as she explores the space as if it’s her first time.

After a few steps, she ends up in a large room adorned with a mesmerizing crystal chandelier that shimmers with a soft, enchanting glow.

"Whoa..." she breathes out in amazement as she gazes at the chandelier and everything surrounding it, fascinated by the room’s grandeur. "This is beautiful."

Walking deeper into the room, she gazes at every intricate detail adorning the space until she reaches the bar counter. A man in a sleek suit is standing behind it, carefully polishing a glass. Her arrival draws his eyes and he looks up with a courteous smile.

"Good day to you, miss," the man greets Seoyeon, his voice smooth and inviting.

The lady in purple responds with a gentle nod and a shy smile. "And to you, sir."

"I would assume that you are here for the challenge?" the man asks curiously.

"Ah, yes. I am," she replies, sounding nervous.

"I see," he says as he puts down the glass. "I was told to assist you."

Seoyeon smiles and nods with a delighted look on her face.

"Nice to meet you!" she tells him with a slight bow, her tone sweet and full of energy.

"Likewise. I look forward to working with you," he replies, his tone warm & welcoming.

Seoyeon then lets out a soft chuckle, as if excited for what's about to come.

"So… what are we supposed to do?" she asks.

"I'm afraid I don't have the answer, Miss," he replies. "I was told to wait for further instructions."

"Ohh..." she nods her head. "Maybe it's something related to mixing cocktails? Or how to toss drinks?"

He chuckles softly. "Perhaps you're right."

"Or... It could be just about drinking a lot," she makes a quick jest, laughing nervously at her joke.

"Well, that is something that I certainly wouldn't mind," the bartender smiles at her playful remark before gesturing to take a seat at the bar. "Please, do have a seat."

Seoyeon heeds his invitation and settles on a stool nearest to him.

"Thank you," she replies as she makes herself comfortable.

"So, do you drink?" he asks her politely.

"I do, but not that much," she confesses, her cheeks blushing.

"I see," he responds with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"

She nods gratefully. "Of course. Something light, please."

The bartender nods and starts preparing a drink for the lady in front of him.

"I'll make you a nice mojito," he says, reaching for the mint leaves and muddling them gently in the glass.

"Oh, I love mojitos!" Seoyeon exclaims as she hears his suggestion. "They're so good."

"They do. Yeah," he nods as he pours the different ingredients into the glass, mixing them skillfully.

Seoyeon observes closely as the bartender skillfully moves his hands, impressed by his mastery. He can’t help but smile at the sight of her patiently observing his craft, a hint of satisfaction visible in his eyes. As he completes the mojito and places it gracefully in front of Seoyeon, he leans in closer, speaking in a soft tone.

"Here you go," he tells her, his eyes fixed on hers. "The best mojito you’ll ever have.”

"Why thank you," she giggles as she reaches for the glass and takes a slow sip, savoring the refreshing taste on her lips.

The bartender observes Seoyeon as she sips the mojito, his gaze focused on her parted lips as they touch the rim of the glass.

"So how is it?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Wow... It's good," she replies in a soft, appreciative tone. "I've never had a mojito like this before."

"Thank you very much," he responds with a satisfied smile. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

"It's very sweet and minty," she adds, her eyes twinkling with delight. "You can’t even taste the alcohol!"

The bartender giggles at her observation and gives her a nod. Her delighted reaction to the drink almost made him blush. She may be an awesome performer, but her fans are mostly drawn by her innocence towards a lot of things.

As Seoyeon continues to enjoy her mojito, they hear a ring coming from a monitor at the end of the counter, grabbing their attention. As they turn their heads toward it, a message pops up on the screen, causing their curious eyes to meet once again.

"What is that?" she asks curiously.

"That must be the challenge we should take," he replies, his voice filled with intrigue.

They read the following message together that appeared on the screen;

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: LOVE IN THE CLUB

Learn how to be the best bartender!

Your partner will teach you the basics about mixing cocktails. It’s up to you to make the best drink ever!

You have 3 hours to prepare your drink.

Your partner will taste your cocktail. He will provide you with the result.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

The screen then transitions into a countdown timer set for 3 hours.

— Digi stopped here but may continue if he has time tomorrow —

"Ooh..." Seoyeon mutters in surprise, her eyebrows raising and her eyes widening. "Cocktail mixing?"

"Indeed," he responds with a smile. "You seem interested."

"Ah, well… You can say that," she replies humbly, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

"That’s good to hear," he responds, his voice tinged with warmth.

"So, what’s up first?" she asks, eyes bright with excitement.

"Well, for starters… Head over here," he answers, gesturing to come closer.

"Ah, right," Seoyeon says, embarrassed. She then walks around the counter and approaches the bartender.

"Now, I will be teaching you about mixing drinks," he says, his voice tinged with pride.

"Okay, what's the first thing I need to do?" she asks, sounding enthusiastic.

"First, we'll need to prepare the ingredients," he answers.

"Got it."

"You might want to take off your jacket. It might get stained."

"Ah! My bad," Seoyeon chuckles as she removes her blazer and tosses it far from the bartender's workspace.

The video then transitions to a brief montage as Seoyeon and the bartender begin preparing the ingredients for her first few cocktails. They combine liquids and fruits in a shaker, shaking it vigorously to create a distinct sound of ice and liquid blending together. As she continues mixing, they sample each cocktail with small sips, engaging cheerfully while bonding over this interesting activity.

"Mmm, it's quite good," the bartender remarks. "I think it needs a little more ice."

"Okay," Seoyeon nods. "So that’s what it only needs?"

"Yes," he confirms. "A few more ice cubes and it will be perfect."

"Alright. That seems easy," she responds, a small smile gracing her lips.

They continue mixing more drinks, making slight adjustments here and there until they've created a cocktail that both of them are satisfied with.

"Now, let's see if you can make this," he says, handing her a shaker and a glass.

"Sure, I'll give it a try," she responds with a determined expression.

She pours the ingredients into the shaker, shaking it with great care. She then tests the drink, taking a small sip.

"Oh wow!" she exclaims. "Whoo! That's good!"

"Thank you," he says with a warm laugh. "It's something I prepared before you arrive."

"Kinda strong for me but yes! I like it!" she remarks, a pleased expression on her face.

"Do you think you can recreate it?" he asks, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Seoyeon then ponders his question, scratching her head.

"I'm not going to tell you its ingredients, though,” he tells her with a firm tone in his voice. “But it's an easy one so you should be able to figure it out," he adds, trying to reassure her..

"Okay. I guess I can try…" Seoyeon nods as she thinks deeply.

The lady in purple then starts to carefully examine the different ingredients and liquors that are laid out in front of her. She carefully examines each one, trying to determine what could be in the cocktail she was just served.

"Hmmm," she murmurs to herself, her eyes scanning the bottles. "Maybe this will... No, that's not it."

"It’s okay, Seoyeon. Take your time," he urges her, smiling encouragingly.

"Do you think I can make it before the time ends?" she asks him curiously.

The bartender chuckles. "We barely just started, Miss."

"That's true," she replies, laughing lightly.

"There's still plenty of time, so take your time and do the best that you can," he reassures her, making her not rush things.

Seoyeon then returns to the task, now focused on recreating the cocktail she tried earlier. She carefully examines the ingredients, trying to identify their significance. After selecting a few key items, she adds them to the shaker and starts mixing under the watchful eye of the bartender who provides support and guidance.

"I'm not sure if this is correct, but let's see," Seoyeon tells herself as she tests the concoction.

After tasting her work, a delighted expression appears on her face.

"Mmmh. That's pretty good," she exclaims, looking rather pleased.

"Is it? Let me try," the bartender says as he takes the glass from her.

He then samples her creation and a pleased expression appears on his face as well.

"It is quite good. Good job," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth.

"Really? Thank you," Seoyeon smiles happily.

"However, I believe you missed a few things," the man says, his voice laced with a bit of teasing.

"Is that so?" she asks, a mix of interest and intrigue.

"What you just recreated is a Long Island iced tea. Very popular in the US," he explains, a smile tugging on his lips. "You missed adding a bit of gin."

"Ooh, that's what it is," Seoyeon responds, sounding impressed.

"Yes," he replies, nodding his head. "So how do you feel after learning a bit about mixing drinks?"

"It was quite fun," Seoyeon remarks, her face flushed with excitement. "I enjoyed it."

"I'm glad to hear it," the man tells her. "Should we proceed to your challenge? Maybe you would like to learn more, perhaps?"

"Can you teach me more?" Seoyeon inquires, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"I could," the bartender answers with a smile. "But you look like you had enough drinks."

The camera focuses on her face, showing her rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, signs of being drunk. She scrambles to check his claims, putting her palms on her cheeks.

"I'm fine. I'm not drunk yet," she retorts, laughing, as if embarrassed.

"Are you sure? The ones you drink are pretty strong," he asks, his eyes narrowing at her, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm sure," she answers, her voice tinged with certainty. "I'm fine—hic!"

She covers her mouth, embarrassed, hiding her hiccup.

"There we go," the man tells her, his voice soft yet firm.

"N-no. I'm not..." she stammers, trying to hold back another hiccup.

"Well, you are," he insists, his tone playful.

"I-I'm not... Agh!" she tries again as she slowly shows frustration in her state.

"It's alright, Seoyeon. You can be honest," he encourages her, his voice gentle and kind.

"But I'm not. Really," she tries to convince him.

"You sure you are not drunk, yet?"

"No. Yes. I mean—hic! Aww, man!" she hiccups again, a small smile playing on her lips.

The bartender laughs lightly, amused by her stubbornness.

"See, Seoyeon. You're not fine at all," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth. "You've had enough."

"But I want to learn more!" she insists, her voice filled with determination. "We still have some time left."

"We can do that later, okay?" the bartender assures her. "After all, you can't mix drinks if you're drunk."

"Hmmm... I guess you're right," Seoyeon replies, nodding slowly.

"Alright. Let's take a rest over there," he points at a plush couch placed in a corner of the room.

"Okay… Nghh…" she replies, groaning.

"Come, follow me," he says as he gestures for her to walk.

They then make their way towards the couch. Despite having a few drinks, she moves steadily yet he follows closely beside her, supporting her as she goes. Soon after, they both take a seat on the couch, sitting closely next to each other.

"This couch is nice and comfy," Seoyeon observes, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"It is, isn't it?" the bartender comments, his tone soft and warm.

"Yeah," she nods her head.

He then offers her a glass of water, which she accepts gratefully.

"Thank you," she tells him, her voice tinged with gratitude.

"You're welcome," he replies, his voice gentle and soothing.

Seoyeon takes a sip of water and leans her head back against the couch.

"So... How do you find bartending?" he asks her, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Well, it's been fun so far," Seoyeon tells him, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Glad to hear that," he replies, his eyes meeting hers.

"I'm learning new things with your help," she adds, her tone grateful.

"Anything for a cute customer like you," the bartender compliments her, and a warm smile can be seen on his face.

"You flatter me," Seoyeon responds, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey. Your face is getting redder," he teases her.

Embarrassed, she tries to cover her cheeks with her hands. "That's because you're flattering me!"

"No need to be embarrassed, though," he tells her, his voice gentle and understanding. "It's the alcohol's doing."

"Ah, yeah... I'm a little bit tipsy, I guess," she admits, her voice filled with sheepishness.

"Just a little bit?"

"Yeah! I'm not drunk!" she argues.

"Really? Because you're hiccuping a lot."

"But I'm not—hic!"

The bartender laughs. "There it is again."

"Ugh. I can't help it," she groans, sounding frustrated.

"Well, I'm sure you can," the bartender counters. "Maybe you just need some help."

"Help? How?" she inquires, her voice curious and hopeful.

"You see... They say kissing helps stop hiccups," the man replies, his voice low and suggestive.

Seoyeon chuckles at hearing his explanation. "Is that so?"

"It does," he insists. "But only if you want to stop it."

"I don't believe you," she retorts, her voice playful.

"Well, then... Shall we find out?" the man offers.

"Fine. Go ahead," she gives in, her voice tinged with a hint of teasing.

The man then leans closer, his face just inches away from hers. You can see her blushing cheeks and biting her lips. He then slowly brings his lips closer to hers, stopping just a hair's breadth away.

"Ready, Miss?" he whispers.

"Mhmm," she nods her head. “Go ahead.”

Seoyeon closes her eyes, waiting patiently for the kiss to happen. But the bartender has other plans. He moves his lips to the side of her mouth and kisses her cheek.

"Ah?" she sighs, her eyes fluttering open.

"Not there, right?" the bartender teases her, a playful grin appearing on his lips.

"Oh, you!" she giggles, slapping his arm playfully.

"My bad," he says, giggling. He then leans in once more. "Here, let me try again."

His lips finally land on hers, kissing her. They start slowly, moving their lips against each other gently and sensually. The two of them eventually get lost in the moment, enjoying the taste of each other's lips. After a while, they pull apart, gasping for air.

"There. Better?" the bartender asks.

Seoyeon examines herself, finding no more hiccups. She then smiles, looking at him with bright eyes.

"Yes," she breathes out, her voice filled with relief. "I think it worked."

"Well that's great," he responds, a pleased smile forming on his face.

The two looked at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence falling over them.

"I hope it won't come back," she says, her voice low and soft.

"It won't," he assures her, chuckling.

"Are you sure?" she asks him, her eyes locked at his’.

"Maybe... But why don't we make sure it won't?" he suggests, smirking.

Seoyeon's face flushes even redder, and she quickly averts her gaze.

"Hmmm…" she trails off, a slight tremble in her voice. “I guess we can try.”

The bartender's eyes then travel along the contours of her face, his gaze settling on her lips. He then leans closer, his nose brushing against hers.

"Shall we try it again?" he asks, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Seoyeon's breathing hitches and her heart pounds in her chest.

"Sure," she answers breathlessly.

He then brings his lips to hers and begins kissing her deeply. Their tongues immediately tangle together as their lips move in sync, like a romantic dance. His hand caresses the nape of her neck, while her hands rest on his shoulders, holding him close. As their lips continue to collide, their bodies become even closer. He gently pushes her body down, making her lean on the sofa, his lips never leaving hers.

"Mmmh... Fuck," she moans against his mouth.

The bartender's kisses eventually trail down her chin and neck. The sensation of his lips against her skin sends her shivering, and she can't help but whimper softly.

"You like that?" the bartender murmurs against her neck, his voice deep and seductive.

"That feels good," she breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire.

"Want me to do it more?" he asks, his lips tracing a line along her jaw.

"Yeah... Mnhh…" she nods, her voice heavy with lust.

As his lips trail down her neck, he gently bites her skin, eliciting a soft moan from her.

"Ah! That's... Ohh!" she cries out, her voice shaky and breathless.

He continues kissing her neck, leaving small bite marks all over her.

"You smell so good, Seoyeon," he breathes against her ear, making her shudder.

"Thank you—oh fuck!" she moans, her head rolling back.

His hands then begin exploring her body. They caress her curves and trace the outline of her breasts. He gropes and fondles them through the thin fabric of her shirt, making her whimper in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice dripping with lust.

"Ahh... I was about to say the same thing," she responds, her voice laced with desire.

"I'm happy to please," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear.

"And I'm glad to be pleased," she whispers back, her eyes locking onto his.

He then kisses her passionately, his tongue pushing inside her mouth.

"Mmmh!" she moans, her hands tangling in his hair.

Like a hungry animal, he hastily unbuttons her blouse, revealing her luscious breasts hidden behind a red lace bra.

"Shit, Seoyeon... These are perfect," he whispers, his voice hoarse and thick with desire.

"Looks like you're loving the view," she purrs, her eyes locked onto his.

"Oh, yeah. You're a fucking goddess," he replies, his gaze full of lust.

He then places his hand on her breasts and squeezes them, making her moan in pleasure. He then kisses her neck and licks the shell of her ear, his tongue flicking and teasing her sensitive skin.

"Mmmh! Fuck... Yes," she moans, her breathing ragged and labored.

"Do you like that, Seoyeon?" he growls, his lips trailing down her neck.

"Yeah! I love it," she moans, her voice heavy and desperate.

"Then let me show you something else you'll love," he growls, his eyes glinting with lust.

He then moves his hand between her legs and gently separates her thighs, revealing the matching red panties underneath.

"Oh fuck," she mutters, her voice filled with anticipation.

He slowly runs his fingers over her panties, teasing her through the thin fabric.

"You're so wet, Seoyeon," he whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

"You're the one who did this," she retorts, her voice filled with desire.

"Blaming me for it, huh?"

"Y-yes," she breathes out, her voice weak and shaky. "You're the one who has his hands all over me."

"Well, you're the one who looks so irresistible," he counters, his lips tracing the outline of her ear.

She moans, her voice quivering and breathless.

"Ah! Ohh... Fuck me," she whimpers, her voice heavy and pleading.

"Gladly," he growls, smiling.

With her permission, his hand dips between her legs and pushes her panties aside. Her partner is left breathless at the sight of her wet lips. But that didn’t stop him from rubbing his thumb against her inviting folds, making her whimper to his touch.

"Oh! Fuck, you're such a tease," Seoyeon comments, a slight snicker forming on her face.

His fingers continue to attack her sensitive bud, her toes curling as her grip on the couch tightens.

"Mmmm... Fuck," she mutters, her voice strained.

"You like that, huh?" he growls, his eyes dark and filled with lust.

"Oh, yeah," she moans, her body squirming and trembling.

He continues rubbing her wet folds, his fingers expertly pleasuring her.

"You're so fucking sexy, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

"Aah! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries out, her body writhing in pleasure.

"On your limit already?" he smirks.

"N-no! I'm just—ooh... So good," she whimpers, her voice breathless and shaky.

He chuckles at her reaction and continues pleasuring her, his fingers rubbing her sensitive flesh.

"Ah! Oh fuck," she cries out, her body writhing in ecstasy.

"My... Aren't you sensitive?" he teases, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Fuck off... Mhnn..."

He then slips a finger inside her wet pussy, making her gasp and moan.

"S-shit! That feels good!" she breathes, her voice shaky and weak.

"Looks like I hit a spot, huh?" he whispers, his voice thick with lust.

"Yeah! Mmmm... Don't stop," she moans, her body trembling and quivering.

He slides his finger deeper into her, his thumb rubbing her sensitive clit.

"Fucking hell! Oh shit," she gasps as her hips buck in the air.

"How does that feel, huh?" he growls at her, his voice thick with lust.

"W-what do you think? Mmmh!" she moans out.

"I bet it feels good," he says, his voice dripping with lust.

"Yeah! It does," she gasps out, her body squirming and trembling. "Now, hurry up and make me cum."

He smirks.

"With pleasure," he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

Suddenly, the camera cuts to a wide-angle shot, and you can see both the bartender's and Seoyeon's expressions change dramatically. The man's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open as he stares at the beautiful sight before him. Meanwhile, Seoyeon's face is contorted with pleasure as she moans loudly and squirms on the couch, her body arching and writhing uncontrollably. They look like they're in a state of pure bliss, a mesmerizing scene of intense intimacy and raw desire.

"Aah! Your… Your thing is—oh fuck!"

Seoyeon's loud, sensual cry fills the room as her body trembles and quivers, her pussy clenching and convulsing around the bartender's fingers. The bartender looks down at her in amazement, his face flushed with arousal and his eyes dark with lust.

"Getting close, are we?" the bartender asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum soon," Seoyeon breathes, her voice shaking and quivering.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Fuck yeah... I do."

"Damn, you're incredible," he whispers to her ear, his voice hoarse and strained.

She lets out a weak, satisfied chuckle.

"I aim to please," she tells him, a playful tinge in her voice.

The bartender chuckles and leans down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues once again meet in a passionate dance, their bodies pressed close together. As their intense make-out session goes on, so do his fingers, pumping in and out of her pussy.

"Oh shit… Let it out, Seoyeon," he commands her, his voice husky and thick with lust.

Seoyeon's breathing becomes heavy and erratic, her body quivering and squirming under his touch. She whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

"I-I'm so close…" Seoyeon whimpers, her voice filled with desire.

"Then come for me," he growls, his voice dark and husky.

He pumps his fingers in and out of her pussy faster and faster, making her body tremble and convulse.

"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!" she screams, her body arching and quivering in ecstasy.

"There. Let go, Seoyeon," he encourages her, his voice low and commanding.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna—oh fuck! I'm cumming!"

Seoyeon's body suddenly shudders and convulses as her orgasm hits her hard, sending her reeling in ecstasy. Her pussy clenches and convulses around his fingers, her juices spraying everywhere. She can be naughty at times, especially around her fellow members. But her current display of eroticism is on a whole different level.

"Mmmh! Ooh! Ohh! Fuck! Oh fuck!" she screams, her body writhing and shuddering in pleasure.

Her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open as she loses herself in the throes of pleasure, her body spasming and quivering uncontrollably. Her loud cries of pleasure and ecstasy fill the room as she rides the waves of her orgasm, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

After what seems like an eternity, her orgasm subsides. The bartender looks at her, his eyes dark and lustful, while Seoyeon's are glazed and unfocused. They remain motionless for a few moments, both catching their breath.

"How was that, hmmm?" the bartender whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"Oh f-fuck... It was incredible," Seoyeon tells him, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"You were amazing, Seoyeon," he responds, his voice heavy with desire.

"Thanks. You too," she replies, her breathing still labored and uneven.

"I'm glad I was able to please you," the bartender murmurs, his lips brushing against her neck.

Seoyeon shudders at his touch, her body still tingling from her orgasm.

"Nghh… Y-you definitely did," she breathes, her voice quivering and weak.

"Well, it's only natural for me to reciprocate," he chuckles, his voice low and seductive.

"Is that so?" she asks, breathless and husky.

"Mhmm," he hums, his lips trailing down her neck.

"I guess I should pay back the favor, then," she tells him, her voice heavy with desire.

The bartender then lays himself back on the couch, his hands crossed his head.

"Go ahead, then," he whispers, his voice dark and husky. "The floor's yours."

A smirk then forms on her face, her eyes burning with lust.

"Gladly."

Without hesitation, she proceeds to unbutton his pants. She works slowly and methodically, teasing him through his boxers. The bartender's breathing hitches and he bites his lip, watching her intently. Once she has unbuttoned his pants, she slides both his pants and boxers off, freeing his hardened member, already glistening with precum.

"Oh my," she coos, her voice dripping with lust.

She then leans down and takes a close look at his cock, her eyes studying it intently.

"See anything you like?" the bartender teasingly asks.

"Yeah, I do," Seoyeon answers, biting her lips.

"Why won't you indulge yourself, then?"

"If you insist," she tells him, her voice low and seductive.

Without hesitation, she begins playing with his dick, stroking and squeezing it with her hands. She licks her lips and leans down, kissing his shaft from top to bottom. Her movements are slow and sensual, making sure he feels every single one. He gasps and groans, his cock twitching and pulsing. She then takes the tip of his member into her mouth, planting a kiss before sucking on it gently.

"Mmmh, yes... That's it," the bartender murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"You like that?" Seoyeon asks, her voice low and husky.

"Yeah. Keep going," the bartender breathes, smiling, his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

Seoyeon giggles and resumes her actions, slowly sliding his entire length into her mouth. She gags slightly at first but quickly recovers and starts sucking and licking his cock, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Fuck... You're so good at this," the bartender grunts, his hands gripping her hair.

"Mhmm," she moans, the sound vibrating against his member. "Dho yu luhv ith?"

"Fuck, yeah. Don't stop," he growls, his voice husky and full of desire.

As instructed, Seoyeon increases her speed and sucks harder, taking his cock as deep into her mouth as she can. The bartender groans and grunts, his body twitching and spasming.

"Ooh, Seoyeon. Just like that. That's so good," he pants, his voice heavy with lust.

Seoyeon hums in acknowledgment, sending a pleasurable vibration against his cock. She continues sucking and licking his hard shaft, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Shit, Seoyeon. You're amazing," the bartender groans, his body tensing up.

She keeps her pace and continues sucking and licking his member. The bartender seems to be getting closer and closer to climaxing, his body twitching and his cock throbbing. Suddenly, he grabs her hair and forces her head down, making her take his entire length into her mouth, taking her by surprise.

"Mbph? Mphh?!"

"Yes. Just like that. Suck that cock," he growls, his voice heavy and strained.

"Mmmh!! Mlph! Mlrgh! Mrrrh!"

She gags and coughs, but continues sucking and licking. She places her hands on his thighs, holding on tightly, determined to make him cum. In response, the bartender's hips begin thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, fuck, yes. That's it, Seoyeon. Just like that," the bartender grunts, his voice low and strained.

He continues fucking her mouth, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. The room is filled with the ecstatic sounds of Seoyeon choking and gagging on his cock, their bodies twitching and writhing.

"Shit, Seoyeon. I'm close," the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

"Mrph?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum. Get ready," he groans, his hips thrusting and spasming.

The bartender then slows his movements, letting her suck his cock at her own pace. With one hand on her head, he guides her head up and down, almost at the same pace as his', taking his member into her mouth with ease. Her tongue swirls around the tip of his member, making him grunt and groan. This synchronous motion of pure pleasure unravels in front of the camera, the erotic act being captured in all its glory.

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Keep going. I'm gonna cum," the bartender growls, his breathing erratic and labored.

"Mhmm, mmmh," Seoyeon nods, her eyes closed, her mind focused on her task.

"Here it comes! Urgh! Fuck!" the bartender cries out, his body trembling and shuddering.

Seoyeon's movements become more frantic and desperate, her pace matching the bartender's. Suddenly, the bartender grabs her head with both hands and pulls it towards his body, forcing his cock deep into her throat. She gags and chokes as his cum sprays into her mouth and down her throat, making her eyes roll back in her head.

"Hahh… Fucking hell," the bartender pants, his breathing heavy and uneven.

He thrusts a few more times, emptying his load into her mouth. You can see in Seoyeon's face that she's swallowing his thick, warm seed, not letting a single drop of it go to waste. But it seems too much for her and she pulls out, coughing and gagging, cum spilling out of her mouth.

"Mmph! Ghck! Gah!"

"Fuck! Sorry, Seoyeon. I couldn't help it," the bartender says sheepishly.

She continues to cough and splutter, the bartender patting her back.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Y-yeah. I'm… I’m fine," she replies, a bit of frustration in her voice.

"I may have overdone it," the bartender laughs, his tone light and cheerful.

"No kidding," she chuckles, her voice raspy. “You almost choked me.”

Seoyeon then swallows what's left of his cum inside his mouth, a satisfied smile on her face. He looks at her with utter awe, amazed at how a small lady like her was able to take his load.

"Fuck. That was hot," the bartender compliments her.

"Thank you," Seoyeon says, licking her lips. "That was quite fun, you know?"

The bartender nods in agreement. "Fuck… You're just making me want you even more."

Seoyeon chuckles. "Looks like someone wants more."

"What can I say? Thinking about what else you can do... It's making me crazy," he tells her, his voice husky and seductive.

She blushes and bites her lips. "I guess I'll have to find out for myself, huh?"

"I can help you with that," the bartender smirks as his hand reaches for his dick, stroking it back to life. To her amusement, it doesn’t take long before her shaft stands up on its own, tall and hard as it was.

She lets out a soft, breathless chuckle. "Well, aren't you energetic?"

"For you? It's a given," he replies, smirking.

"That flattery will get you anywhere," she grins.

"I'm sure it will," the bartender replies. "But for now…"

He suddenly leans in, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. His hand lands on one of the buttons of her blouse, ready to unclasp it. Their breathing becomes more shallow, adding to the tension in the room.

"This is where I want to be."

Seoyeon is seemingly satisfied with his response, evident in the slight curve of her lips as she looks into his eyes, anticipating his next move.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she hums, her voice soft and sultry.

The bartender's finger slowly slips through the first button, and the second one, then the third. The thrill makes Seoyeon shiver in excitement, reaching for his lips with hers. Eventually, he reaches the last one, and the bartender finally opens her blouse, revealing a red lace bra as her blouse slides down her shoulders, the thin fabric caressing her skin.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with hunger. He immediately cups one of her breasts, massaging it, his lips then trail down her neck.

"Mmmh!" Seoyeon hums, her body quivering.

He then reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, making her gasp in surprise.

"Red suits you, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice heavy with desire.

"Really now?" she chuckles, her voice low and seductive.

"I mean it. You look stunning."

She blushes. "Well, thank you—wah!"

The bartender then interrupts her by pulling off her bra, his eyes gazing upon her bare breasts. They're full and supple, perfectly proportioned for her size.

"Oh, wow…" he breathes out in wonder of the mounds of flesh before his eyes.

"Why you..." she chuckles, still shocked by his sudden move. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

The bartender smiles sheepishly and leans forward, his face hovering above her breast.

“You look good, Seoyeon,” the bartender comments, his voice dripping with lust. “They really look good.”

"They're not much, really," she shrugs, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Are you kidding? They're gorgeous," the bartender counters, his tone sincere.

"I guess..." she trails off, biting her lips.

"Do you mind if I touch them?"

"And what will you do if I don't?" she challenges him, her eyes burning with desire.

He doesn't answer her and instead proceeds to grab one of her breasts, kneading it softly.

"Mmmh," she hums, her voice heavy and sultry.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

"Maybe… For now," she answers, giggling.

His fingers pinch her nipple, a soft moan escapes her lips. His other hand then massages her other breast, making her gasp and whimper.

"Aah... Y-you're a bit rough, aren't you?" she mutters, her voice strained.

"Am I? I'll try to be gentler, then," he responds, his voice low and husky.

"Don't even try," she says, her voice hoarse and strained.

The bartender smiles and continues playing with her breasts, his movements becoming rougher and more aggressive.

"Hah! Aah!" she cries out, her body arching and shuddering.

His lips then find their way to her breasts, leaving kisses and bite marks all over them.

"S-shit," she moans, her voice quivering and weak.

"Does it feel good, Seoyeon?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"F-fuck yeah," she breathes, her voice heavy and strained.

"Do you like it when I play with these?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.

"O-of course," she moans, her voice hoarse and breathless.

"Would you like me to do it some more?"

"Fuck yes..."

"As you wish," he replies, a sly grin forming on his face.

The bartender then places both of his hands on her breasts, squeezing and groping them.

"Mmmh! Ahh!"

"Your breasts are so soft, Seoyeon," he coos as he firmly gropes them, his voice low and husky.

"Ooh! Oh f-fuck," she gasps from his touch, her voice strained and shaky.

"Tell me how it feels."

"Amazing... Mmmh, yeah," she breathes, her eyes fluttering. "I love it."

"That's good," the bartender grins, his voice low and sultry.

His lips then trail down her body, his hands exploring her curves. He eventually stops at her skirt, his fingers slowly unzipping it.

"Let's get this off, shall we?"

"Yes, please," she nods, her voice weak and breathless.

He removes her skirt and panties in one go, leaving her fully naked in front of him. He tosses it high in the air, his gaze fixed on her pussy.

"Now, that's a sight," the bartender growls at the marvelous view, his eyes wide and filled with lust.

"You like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

"You know I do," the bartender replies, his voice thick and husky.

She chuckles. "I figured you would."

He takes a step forward and runs his finger along her slit, making her whimper and squirm.

"You look breathtaking," the bartender murmurs, his eyes filled with hunger.

"Mmmh, yeah. That feels nice," she sighs, her body squirming.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his finger slowly tracing her wet folds.

"Y-yeah... I need it," she moans, her voice breathless and desperate.

"Tell me what you need," the bartender asks, grinning.

"I need you. I need you inside me," she whimpers, her face flushed and her breathing labored.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I fucking want it,” she begs, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Hmmm... Well, then,” the bartender grins, satisfied by her response.

“Please… Oh fucking please…”

Before he gives in to Seoyeon's pleas, he looks at the timer displayed on the monitor. There's less than an hour left before the challenge begins.

"Well, I guess we have some more time," the bartender tells her, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"Then why don't we make the most of it?" she asks, her voice low and seductive. She spreads her legs wide open, showing him her glistening wet folds.

"Why, that’s a good idea."

He then stands up and starts taking off his clothes, wildly throwing each piece aside. Soon, he's completely naked in front of her. Seoyeon's eyes widen and she bites her lips as she watches this display, her gaze travels along his body. She takes in his muscles and broad shoulders, his strong arms and abs, and finally, his cock, already hard and twitching.

"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Definitely," she answers with a devilish smirk.

The bartender smirks and leans forward, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers'. His hand finds its way to her hair, tangling in her long black locks.

"I can't fucking wait any longer," he growls, his voice husky and filled with lust.

"Me neither," she pants, her voice heavy and breathless.

"How do you want it, Seoyeon? How do you want me?"

She bites her lips and smiles.

"Surprise me," she challenges him.

"Oh, I intend to."

Without another word, he pushes her down, making her lay flat on her back. He then climbs on top of her and positions himself between her legs. He leans forward and grabs her wrists, pinning her down.

"Oh fuck," she breathes, her body trembling.

"Ready for this?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"Yes... Fuck me like you mean it," she commands him, her voice filled with desire.

He prepares himself, pressing his length against her wetness.

"As you wish," the bartender tells her, his voice low and husky.

Without further hesitation, he plunges his cock into her pussy, making her scream in pleasure.

"Ahh! Oh shit!"

"Yeah, that's right," the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Yes... Oh, you're so big," she groans, her voice strained and shaky.

The bartender then thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside her, making her scream in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're tight," he breathes, his eyes filled with lust.

"Mmmh, yeah... Give it to me," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

He grunts and continues pumping his cock in and out of her, his hips slamming against hers. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and convulsing.

"Ohhh... Yes, that's so good," she moans, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Liking it?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"O-oh, yes," she nods, her face flushed.

"I'll make you feel even better," the bartender promises, his voice low and sultry.

He places his hands on her waist and grips her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. He amps up his speed, pounding into her harder and faster. She gasps and arches her back, her body squirming and quivering.

"Ohh fuck... Oh fuck!" she screams, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Yeah. That's it, Seoyeon," he growls, his voice low and husky.

"Fuck... You're wrecking my—nghh!" she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

"I'm gonna destroy your pussy," the bartender tells her, his voice thick and hoarse.

"Ooh, f-fuck me..." she whimpers, her eyes rolling back.

He then grabs her legs and lifts them, making her wrap them around his waist. He thrusts his cock deeper into her, his pace relentless.

"There we go," he grunts, his voice hoarse and heavy.

"Fuck, yes! Harder!" she cries out, her body arching and spasming. "Fuck me harder!"

He continues his assault, his hips slamming against hers' repeatedly, his cock pistoning in and out of her.

"Yes... Oh fuck... Mmmh, just like that," she whimpers, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Ugh... Your pussy is getting tighter," he growls, his body tensing up.

"Y-you... Your cock..." she stutters, her words failing her.

"Yeah? You like my cock, huh?"

"I-it'sh getting... Even bigger inshide me... Mnhh," she mewls out, her voice starting to become slurry.

"Yeah. Take that fucking cock," he growls, his voice filled with desire.

"Yesh... Oh fuhg..."

Her eyes roll back, her body twitching and spasming. Seoyeon starts to drool from her mouth, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Her hands grip his arms tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Nghh... You're close, aren't you?" the bartender asks, his voice gruff and rough.

"Hngg! Oh s-shit!" she cries out, her body arching and squirming.

He suddenly slows down his pace, making her whine in frustration.

"What the fuck—Mngh?!"

He then leans forward and kisses her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. He keeps a steady pace, his cock moving in and out of her slowly, driving her mad. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and trembling.

"I fuhging lhuv dish," Seoyeon says, her words slurred, her voice barely audible.

"Oh? And what else do you love, hmm?"

"F-fuhking me... Fuhking my pushy," she tells him, her voice breathless and shaky.

"You love this, huh?" he asks, teasing her with slow yet powerful thrusts.

"Yesh... So m-mush," she moans, her voice weak and strained.

"I'll make you love it even more, then," the bartender growls as he pounds her harder, his pace becoming rougher and harder.

"Oh god... I lhuv you," Seoyeon mumbles, her voice weak.

"Mmhm. I love you too," the bartender replies, kissing her again.

Seoyeon wraps her arms around his neck, her nails clawing his skin. Her legs wrap around his waist, her heels digging into his back. The room is filled with the sounds of their flesh slapping together and their lust-filled voices, moaning and groaning as their bodies writhe and grind against each other.

"F-fuck... Oh yesh!"

"Yes. Fuck yes," the bartender growls. "You know you love it."

Despite their paces amping up, their bodies move in perfect sync. Their hips rocking against each other, their rhythm perfect. Non-fans wouldn't think it's their first time being intimate together, their actions are fluid and natural. It's a spectacle to behold.

"Fuck, fuck... Mhhh! I'm gonna..."

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon?"

"Y-yeah. I wanna cum so bad!"

"Then come," he whispers into her ear. "Come for me, Seoyeon."

"I'm... I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm c-cumming!"

Her body tenses up, her back arching. She screams in ecstasy as her orgasm hits her, her pussy clenching and convulsing as she displays another intense orgasm, her juices spraying everywhere.

"Ohh! Oh f-fuck! I-I can't stop cumming! Mmmmh!"

"Fuck yeah... Squirt all over me, Seoyeon," the bartender growls, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Her whole body trembles and shakes, her limbs flailing around uncontrollably. The immense pressure of her orgasm causes his cock to slide out of her.

"Oh, shit! I-I'm cumming again!"

"That's it. Let it all out," the bartender growls, his cock throbbing with arousal.

The petite vixen continues to scream and wail as she climaxes, her body trembling and convulsing. Her juices gush out of her pussy and splash onto the bartender's abdomen, soaking him in her sweet nectar.

"Fuck, you're incredible," the bartender tells her, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Eventually. Seoyeon's fantastic waterworks show subsides, leaving her a trembling, gasping mess. She can barely reply, her mind still hazy from her orgasms.

"Hngh... Mnhh... I..."

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he responds, his voice thick and hoarse. The bartender smiles at her, his eyes burning with hunger.

"You... Y-you're..." she mumbles, her words failing her.

"Amazing, right?"

"Y-yeah. You are..."

"Again, I aim to please."

He then leans forward and kisses her once again, softly, his lips brushing against hers. He grabs her breast and squeezes it gently, making a soft moan escape her lips. His tongue gently enters her mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting her sweet juices. Albeit weak from the multiple orgasms she just experienced, she responds in kind. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues dance around each other, their kisses deep and passionate.

"Mmmh… So good," she moans, her voice weak.

His hands roam her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts. His fingers pinch and rub her nipples, making her gasp and whimper.

"You really are gorgeous," he tells her, his voice low and husky.

"Why, you're quite the charmer yourself," she chuckles, breathless and husky.

"Only because you bring it out in me," he grins, his eyes filled with desire.

She giggles. "Why do I think it's not the first time you said that?"

"What makes you say that?" he asks, his voice heavy and seductive.

"I don't know, really," she laughs weakly. "You look like the player type."

He chuckles at her. "I promise you, I'm not a player."

"Whatever you say," she says, giggling.

"But I'd love to play with you," he tells her, his voice low and sultry.

"Mmhm. I'm sure you would," she replies, still catching her breath.

The bartender then leans forward and kisses her again, their tongues dancing around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. They lose themselves in the moment, their movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Mhnn... It's your turn, mister," Seoyeon coos, her voice low and seductive.

The bartender smiles and nods, his cock throbbing with arousal. He then carries her to the table next to them and lays her down on it. He positions himself between her legs, his cock pressed against her pussy.

"This is gonna be fun," he growls, his voice low and husky.

Seoyeon smiles at him and wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Do your worst," she tells him, her voice low and sultry.

The bartender then grabs her hips and slides his cock into her wet folds, making her gasp and whimper.

"Mmmh... Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice heavy and strained.

The bartender then begins thrusting his cock in and out of her, his pace relentless.

"Ahhh! Yes! Oh, fuck..." she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

He continues to pound into her, his hips slamming against hers. He grunts and groans as he fucks her even harder, his movements becoming faster and more frantic.

"Oh, shit! You feel so fucking good," he growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Fuck yeah... Give me that fucking cock," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

"As you wish," he growls as he amps up his speed, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Yes! Oh fuck... Yes!" she screams, her voice strained and shaky.

Her eyes roll back and her body trembles, her orgasm building up inside her.

"Fuck... Oh fuck! Sho beeg!"

The bartender laughs. "I know. You love it, don't you?"

"Yesh! Oh fuck... Yesh I lhuv ith!" she screams, her voice weak and almost incoherent.

He laughs. “I thought so."

He then places his hand on her neck, gently pressing down on her throat.

"Nghk... Mnah!" she yelps, her eyes widening.

"You like this, huh? You like when I choke you?" the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

She nods, weakly. "Oh yesh... Choke me hard—Nghh!"

He squeezes her throat tighter, making her gasp. He then leans forward and goes for another passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. Seoyeon can't help but accept it, her lips parting. Their tongues dance around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. As it happens, he revs up his pace, pounding into her harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers.

"Oh shit! Yesh! Jusht like that!" Seoyeon screams, her voice is strained and shaky.

Her body arches and spasms, her nails digging into his skin. His grip around her throat tightens as he continues to fuck her, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Ohh! Oh fuck... Yesh... Yesh! I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm cumming!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon? You wanna cum all over my cock?" the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Y-yeah... I wanna cum... Oh fuck..." she moans, her voice breathless and strained.

"Let's cum together, then," he growls as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hips slamming against hers'.

"Yesh... Oh yesh! Ghiv it to me!" she screams, her body writhing and convulsing.

"You want my cum so badly, huh?"

"Yesh, pleash!" Seoyeon begs, her voice weak and shaky. "Fill me up with your fucking cum!"

"With pleasure," he breathes out, his tone desperate.

The bartender then repositions himself, he squats on top of Seoyeon with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands on her knees, pulling her legs up against his shoulders, allowing him to thrust deeper and harder. This speed is unlike what he’s done to her earlier, this time he's more brutal and animalistic, and his grunts are guttural. Add Seoyeon's wanton screams of pleasure to the mix and it creates an audio-visual treat.

The cameras are capturing such an incredibly indecent act. It's nothing like you've seen in any porn or erotic media. It's primal, it's savage, it's visceral. It's fucking hot.

The bartender's cock pounds into her tight little pussy relentlessly, her body trembling and squirming beneath him. Her eyes roll back and her mouth opens wide in a silent scream, her orgasm building inside her.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Urgh... I'm close, Seoyeon. You ready?" the bartender grunts, his voice heavy and husky.

"Cum... Ghiv me your cum," she breathes, her voice heavy and sultry.

"You fucking slut," the bartender growls.

"Y-yesh..." she stutters, her eyes rolling back. “I’m your fucking shlut.”

He thrusts his cock into her even faster, his hips slamming against hers. He pounds her as hard as he can, his thrusts becoming rougher and more brutal. His breathing becomes more ragged and erratic, his body tensing up. While Seoyeon lets out an animalistic howl, a guttural noise from the back of her throat, the bartender grunts and groans.

"Here it comes, Seoyeon! I'm gonna—Nrgh!" the bartender growls, his eyes rolling back.

"Pleash! Oh, pleash!" Seoyeon screams, her voice hoarse and shaky.

He lets out a loud groan as his thrust his cock deeper inside her, spurting white stuff all over her pussy’s walls.

"Argh! Take it, Seoyeon!"

"Ohh! Oh fuck, yesh!" Seoyeon screams, her eyes rolling back.

After a few strong thrusts, the bartender's hips come to a sudden halt, then bucks them, as he pours his load inside her. Seoyeon can't do anything but lie there and take his load, her body twitching and shuddering, her moans hoarse and shaky.

"Ooh... Fuck yeah," the bartender groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Ahh... Your cum... Sho mush... Nghhh!" she moans, her voice low and sultry.

"So tight, Seoyeon…" the bartender whispers, his voice thick and husky.

He thrusts his cock in and out of her several more times as if milking his cock dry. Each time he withdraws, a mixture of their fluids coats his shaft before being pushed back in, creating wet sounds as the excess spills out of her.

After a while, the bartender withdraws from her, a large amount of his cum dripping out of her abused pussy. She moans and writhes as he removes himself from her warm folds. And once free, she starts to squirt uncontrollably. Her lewd juices, mixed with his seed, splattered everywhere. She moans and whimpers as she experiences an intense yet silent orgasm, her body convulsing and twitching like something similar to an X-rated movie. It's obscene and vulgar.

"Shit, you're letting out a lot," the bartender breathes.

"Ohh! O-oh god!" she cries out, her body spasming.

The bartender just chuckles and looks at her, a satisfied smile on his face.

After what might be a minute of her uncontrollable orgasm, Seoyeon collapses onto the table, gasping and panting. She's completely spent.

"Damn, that was hot," the bartender breathes.

Seoyeon desperately catches her breath, her chest heaving up and down. Her mind is hazy and cloudy, her thoughts jumbled and unfocused.

"You did great, Seoyeon," he says, patting her head.

Seoyeon doesn't respond, her eyes fluttering.

"It's okay, you can rest now," he assures her.

Suddenly, a loud ring emanates from a distance. The bartender looks at where the sound came from. The camera then switches to the view of the timer. It's up.

"Damn. Time's up," the bartender sighs.

One of the staff members can be heard speaking up.

"Mister bartender... Seoyeon... It's time for the challenge," the staff member informs them.

"Understood," the bartender nods. "However..."

He shifts his attention to Seoyeon, who's still a picture of a blissful, fucked up mess.

"I don't think she can right now," the bartender chuckles.

"But the challenge," the staff member reminds him.

"Well, I don't really have a say in this," he shrugs. "It's her challenge to do, not mine."

The rest of the staff then discuss the current situation with each other. Meanwhile, the bartender checks up on Seoyeon. He cups her cheek, causing her to open her eyes slowly.

"Hey. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle and concerned.

Seoyeon just responds with a weak smile.

"Can you still do the challenge?"

Looking disappointed, Seoyeon shakes her head, still weak.

"You'll fail the challenge if you don't do it," the bartender warns her, a calm tone to his voice.

"I—ugh... Hahh... My body's too weak to move," she admits, still catching her breath.

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "I didn't mean to get that rough."

"No, it's alright. It was fun, anyway," she tells him, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Thank you," the bartender smiles, relief evident on his face.

"I… I aim to please," she jests, a weak smirk forming on her lips.

The bartender laughs gently.

"So... Are you forfeiting the challenge?" he asks, his tone worried.

"Yeah... I guess I am," Seoyeon admits, looking down.

"That's unfortunate," he sighs.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice low and timid.

"Don't be," he replies, his voice kind and reassuring. "It's not your fault."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," she nods.

The bartender then turns to the rest of the crew, telling them what they just discussed. The staff nods in response.

"Unfortunately, Seoyeon has failed the challenge," the staff informs everyone.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Seoyeon weakly says.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," the staff member tells her. "We hope you still had fun."

"That I did," she smiles. "Thank you."

The timer on the monitor then disappears, followed by a message showing up:

"Sorry, Seoyeon. You failed the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area."

Seoyeon sighs. "That sucks."

"At least you still got to have some fun," the bartender replies.

"Fair point," she smiles. "You sure rocked my world, mister bartender."

"Why, thank you," the bartender chuckles. "But again, I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice filled with guilt.

"Again, it's fine," she reassures him, her hand reaching for his.

The bartender looks at her hand and smiles. He squeezes her hand lightly in return.

"Well, I'm sure you're still tired from all of that,"

"You got that right," she chuckles.

"Then why don't you get some rest?" he asks, his voice gentle and soothing.

She nods, weakly.

"Thank you," she smiles.

He returns the smile and gently pats her head. Cradling her in his arms, he carries her over to a nearby couch, unblemished by their earlier debauchery. As Seoyeon settles into the plush cushions, she closes her eyes and succumbs to fatigue. Sitting down beside her, the bartender's hand rests on her thigh as he observes her drifting off to sleep. Even as the video fades out, the camera manages to capture Seoyeon's captivating figure; and you can't help but admire every inch of her nude body looking serene in sleep.

A few minor adjustments and another video is ready, revealing their intimate moments for the world to see. As you wrap up the video editing, hunger finally hits you after delaying it for so long. You quickly prepare the next episode of the show before going out to grab a well-deserved meal.

Pretty sure everyone will love to see the “captain” in action.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

Another Spotlighting chapter down and many more to go! Thinking of a plot is easy with Seoyeon, but executing it is what's challenging. Not only am I clueless about her drinking habits, but I'm also clueless how people "make love in this club". 😅 So I might have to apologize if some (if not most) parts of the story are hard to read. Though I still hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter nonetheless.

And again... I would like to thank @digipigichopshop for lending his time in helping me writing this one. As well was @braaan for this really awesome poster. This might be my favorite so far, to be honest. I like what you did with the spotlight effect. 👍

Once more, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

[sigmalewife]

BSD characters with a idol s/o

Characters: Sigma, Bram, Dazai, Yosano, Chuuya, Kyoka, Fukuzawa.

Note: The Kyoka part can be read as platonic or romantic, the reader is explicitly of the same age as her in that part.

Cw: Mentions of diets (be careful!), minor injuries and obsessive fans.

Reminder that english is not my first language, sorry for the spelling mistakes.

gn!reader

Sigma.

• He loves your music :(

• Sigma can't go always to your presentations for his job in the casino, but he always make sure to let you know how proud he is of you!

• Sometimes he would be making paperwork until late at night, super stressed, but then you make a live for all your fans and everything becomes better. He leaves the live playing on his phone, as if it were background noise, and he stops feeling so alone in the office.

• (Although sometimes he gets distracted, thinking in how pretty your laugh sounds.)

• Sigma buys every merchandise of yours that exists.

• Even the not official.

• He often asks for fanart commissions from his favorite artists who are also fans of yours. Sigma believes in fandom solidarity!!!

Bram.

• Definitely was Aya who introduced him to your music.

• Just imagine that was one songs of yours that Aya put on play on that scene of the MP3. He's obsessed.

• Bram make sure of upload every song you make it, even the demos.

• After of a presentation, he would take the tea with you. Talking about the details. If you are in a group, he's more than happy to gossip about them.

• He learned the entire lighticks and fanchats system. Bram has it memorized as if it were very important ancestral knowledge.

• Bram it's so disappointed when he don't get your photocards. Definitely makes Aya buy other album.

Dazai.

• I hate him. He's such a lucky mf.

• The type of fan that always get the photocard he wants, and sometimes he thinks "hm, yeah, wouldn't be cool if y/n makes a collaboration with x singer" AND THEN YOU RELEASE THAT SONG DON'T EVEN KNOWING THAT HE WANTED THAT.

• Dazai is always there in your concerts, he loves seeing how your shine, with a crown screaming your name. Makes him feel so proud.

• The type of boyfriend that is always in the backstage, drying your tears when you feel that you didn't so good as you expected :(

• If he finds out that you're being harassed by some obsessive fan it's over. Dazai it's gonna make them pray for forgiveness.

Yosano.

• She adores you. I definitely can see her calling you cutie patootie, lmao.

• Yosano it's always showing you off to the rest of the ADA. What I can say? She just loves talk about you.

• You two go shopping together, and when a fan recognizes you Yosano put a hand in your waist, being alert to the other person's intentions to you.

• She can't use her ability with you, but everytime you get hurt dancing or something she personally takes care of you. Her hands are so soft when she bandage your feet.

• Same as Bram, Yosano LOVES gossip with you. She knows dirt of half industry just because you.

• Yosano takes pics of you being comfy/random in private and then edits them to when your fans see them, they get desperate trying to guess if it's you or not, lol.

Chuuya.

• He's like the best boyfriend for a idol. If you don't consider his job, of course.

• Chuuya can't go always to your presentations, but he's always on the phone, making sure your feeling good. He is very good at calming you down when you feel nervous.

• Takes you out in his motorcycle in a night ride when you need some inspiration for your songs.

• He have every album, but his favorite merchandise it's a plushie of you. He sleeps with it when you aren't in home for your tour.

• Chuuya it's also a bit unsure of his body, so when you are sad because you think you need lose weight, he's not gonna be hard to you (but with your agency/fans)

• He will use his free time to workout with you, it's like a personal trainer. But Chuuya loves most run with you at night, specially in the beach.

Kyoka.

• You are her comfort artist.

• Kyoka has been your fan since Atsushi took her out on that "date" and she saw you in the TV of an arcade.

• She loves how happy your look dancing and singing. The fact that you're almost her same age makes her feel closer to you.

• The ADA member starts to give her your merch in special events when they discovered that she was your fan.

• Now Kyoka have some albums and a plushie that she always sleep with.

• When you both become closer, Kyoka it's so happy to do normal teenage things with you. With the other, you both can feel more normal. No need to act.

Fukuzawa.

• Cat dad loves you !

• He MELT when he sees you with car ears.

• Fukuzawa loves the soft themed songs. Romantic ballads are his favorites.

• Soft man that hums your songs when his working.

• Fukuzawa always makes sure that your don't overwork. He pats your head and takes the afternoon tea with you.

• When you come back exhausted after a presentation, Fukuzawa gives you the best massage ever. He definitely knows these grandma secret medicines that will make you feel like a new person.

• Not really into buy merch, but Fukuzawa have a little keychain. He loves it, specially because it's a chibi version of you cat themed.

[leasboyfriend]

I'm gonna try to make kh space's apartment in sims wish me luck i dont know what im doing here

[ivymarquis]

A Little Death

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 7k Kinks/Content/Warnings| The author has decided she can't be assed to edit this, Chubby!Reader, Kidnapping, nondescript mentions of torture. Ambiguous mentions of S/A (vague enough you can chose to ignore that part if you want tbh), Reader is traumatized from her ordeal but working through it. Fingering, PiV, riding, squirting, Simon has a moment where he's worried he triggered reader after sex but that is an incorrect assumption on his part.

On days like this Simon can almost pretend he’s normal. 

The game’s on, a beer in one hand while the other has been commandeered by his girlfriend with a simple “Gimmie.”

Simon has never been one to worry about his nails beyond clipping them for practicality’s sake.

Having a SAS lieutenant for a boyfriend means she deals with what she insists is Simon’s paranoia and he insists is a healthy level of suspicion about the outside world. Having a nail technician for a girlfriend means every so often she’ll commandeer his hands to ensure they’re up to her standards. As it turned out, adhering to regulations wasn’t up to par for her. 

His neighbor is a popular woman.

It sets him on edge, all the traffic. One or two people at a time, usually other women- sometimes with a man in tow, other times not. They show up, they stay for maybe an hour or maybe 4, and they leave. Within 30 minutes someone else is knocking on her door.

Normal men humor their partners about things they don’t particularly give a fuck about when left to their own devices, as an acknowledgment of its importance to them. 

And so he sits, beer in one hand as she works on the other. Once she’s finished she gathers up the towel that acts as a catch for the various clips and trimmings before making her move to switch sides, Simon easily acquiescing to her whim.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” She asks one night. Music plays lowly from a laptop on her patio as he steps onto his for a smoke break. Just because he’s got his vice doesn’t mean he wants the whole flat smelling like it.

“Don’t sleep much anyway, pet. Bit of music won’t change that one way or another.”

Despite his insistence that he’s merely humoring her, he soaks up the attention she readily gives him. When she’s done and tidied after herself she returns with a small bottle of lotion.

He’s got one arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head as she massages his hand. If he plays his cards right tonight he can probably get her to soothe some of the aches and stiff muscles that always plague him. For now he melts as she seems to know exactly what points to hit in his palm and forearm. 

It’s domestic and normal and Simon can almost ignore the burner phone he keeps on him at all times.

It goes off at 5am on a Sunday, Simon already awake and having been watching the ceiling fan since 4:30. He can’t fall back asleep but can’t bring himself to separate from her. 

She burrows further into his chest as his shifting disrupts her. He’s fairly certain she would crawl inside his ribcage if she could, curl up right next to his heart and never leave. 

Simon would gladly let her. 

She’s a nail technician, he comes to learn. Sure as shit, he eventually memorizes the traffic that comes and goes on a roughly two week interval. Some of them are steadfast in their appointments. 2 o clock every other Thursday. 4 o clock every other Friday. Others not so much- they come around frequently but the days and times are random after the 14 day mark. 

The familiarity of some of the faces takes him slightly less on edge. He will never relax, not truly, but it settles him down now that he knows the pattern. 

It also explains why her hands have two completely different designs on each one. Color, pattern, the shape of the nails. Her left and right hand look like they belong to two different people. 

Simon doesn’t use social media, for obvious reasons. His little neighbor has formed an entire career for herself based off of it. 

But the phone buzzes on the nightstand, an omniscient presence that always hovers heavy in the air.

“Price?” Is all he gives for a greeting. Trying to keep his words short and concise. He doesn’t want to wake her, still under the lull she draws him into without trying. 

He keeps his work and his personal life separate with no intention of ever melding the two. 

“Laswell’s got intel. We meet in 2 days, back on base at 06:00.”

He is about to respond, both an acknowledgment and a hopeful end to the conversation, when she stretches next to him with a groan of protest at being awoken so early. 

“Tell your other girlfriend I said hi,” she grumbles, already knowing it’s Price on the phone and that the clock is officially counting down on the time they have left together. 

“You know at a certain point I'm going to just decide you’ve got a whole secret life with a wife and kids and a picket fence.”

He doesn’t want his work to ever follow him home. Not to her. He keeps them strictly separate. She knows he’s military- specifically SAS- and that he works in counter terrorism and that’s about all he’s willing to tell. She doesn’t need to know details. And more importantly the details don’t ever need to know about her. 

His past missions have haunted him in the worst way possible. He’s finally rebuilt something for himself as the ghost of a dead man, and doesn’t want anything to ever tarnish what he’s found. 

He can’t entirely blame her. It takes a leap of faith to accept the little he offers her. What does he have? A dead man’s name and most likely a violent end waiting for him. 

Eventually he does offer a small peace offering. Price is enough to settle the concerns that she hides as jokes. Provides enough credibility that she can let go of the concern that he’s living a double life.

Well, he is. But not the kind that nags at her. 

Price knows her; Gaz and Soap know that he’s got someone waiting for him at home, but Simon is already at his limit of how much intermingling he can handle. They’re both compromising, both making allowances for their comfort levels for the sake of the other. But he has to draw the line somewhere. 

If Simon had his way Gaz and Soap would be none the wiser, but a night of frantic coupling before he’d left had Simon bearing marks that are incredibly obvious in the changing room. 

“Steamin’ Jesus L.T.! You get jumped by a wildcat?” The chortle from the Scot makes it obvious that Johnny is yet again not afraid to push Simon’s buttons. 

There’s no denying what they are, nor how he got them. Neither Soap nor Gaz are stupid. 

Long, red scratch marks criss cross the broad expanse of his scarred back. He certainly hadn’t complained when his lovely girl had left her mark on him- those nails dragging across his skin had only encouraged him as his hips clapped wetly against hers, hands gripping her knees as he pressed them to her shoulders.

Most nights he is soft and gentle and strokes her skin while his lips press either in her hair or the soft expanse of her neck. He doesn’t roughhouse her tonight, but the knowledge he’ll be gone for weeks and tonight is their last together for the foreseeable future?

Well, the pair of them are a bit amped about the impending separation. It’s a good thing neither of them are particularly known for their good sleeping habits, because there’s not a lot of that usually happening on the nights before Simon leaves. 

Leaving without waking her up is an impossible task but he tries anyway.

Whereas Simon finds sleep difficult to achieve and eventually sleeps like the dead once he finds it, she drifts readily enough but will wake at the drop of a hat.

Usually she’ll settle soon after. Eyes following his form in the dark, waiting expectantly for him to come back after he dresses to kiss her goodbye. 

They carve out a routine for themselves. One for when Simon is home, and one for when he’s preparing to walk out the door until eventually coming back through it.

His therapist is equal parts shocked and pleased to hear that Simon is taking the leap and opening himself up emotionally to someone. 

His therapist is less pleased about the way he simply buries himself in her life when he’s on leave.

Simon is nothing- has nothing- when he is not acting in the line of duty. He is a dead man with nothing to his name and no one who gives a fuck if he ever walks back through the door that isn’t tied to his military career. 

He thrives on the stability and schedule on base. On the simplicity of nights spent out on the field. Wake up, piss, dont die, go to sleep. Wake up, repeat. 

Some days the only thing keeping him from trying to end it all (again, he bitterly acknowledges) when he’s gotten too far into a bottle of bourbon is his therapist and the thought of his team’s face at the news. 

Until, at least, he meets her. 

The mission is brief but successful. Simon is pleased. 

The deepest of the scratch marks has just finished healing and he’s already missing the sensation of her nails dragging against his skin- and he’s not picky about the context, either. 

There have been plenty of nights he’s fallen asleep with his face buried in her chest with one of her hands scratching gently at his scalp and the other tracing in broad strokes across his back.

Of course those nails also feel divine scratching at his abdomen while she is on her knees for him.

There’s a process he goes through when he gets home. It lets him shed the mantle of Ghost- to calm down as much as he’s able and be better equipped to deal with civilian life. Helps him give her the illusion that she is with a normal man who’s not holding onto himself with a death grip, desperately trying to keep the pieces together.

He feels fine when he leaves base and heads home. Everything is normal. 

Until he turns the corner and sees the door ajar.

Fear runs ice cold in his veins, hackles raised and on guard. 

I’m just being paranoid, he tries to self soothe as he steps towards the door. She tells me all the time.

Course, it was one thing when he gripes about how she answers the door without looking to see who it is. She doesn’t leave the fucking door open.

“Wish you’d at least look at the peep hole before just opening the bloody door,” he grouses into her hair, pulling her in so she’s tucked up to his side. 

“If I’m expecting someone to come at 3 and there’s a knock at 3, I already know who it is, Si.”

There are times when he is grateful that she has, by comparison, lived a life where she thinks he is paranoid and needlessly worries. She hasn’t had the experiences he has, and he doesn’t wish that upon her. He’s grateful with the knowledge that every time he’s sent out, thus far, that she’s been tucked away safe and sound until he returns. 

But of course the other shoe was always going to drop eventually. 

“Price?” Simon doesn’t know who else to call. 

He’s standing in the middle of his flat, evidence of an altercation scattered around the living room. 

She put up a fight if the state of the flat is anything to go by. He wants to be proud of that at least, use it as hope-

He just feels hollow. 

A group the 141 has dealt with prior are the ones all the signs point to. They wanted the team’s attention and by God they fucking got it. 

Simon doesn’t understand how they found she has any ties to him. He’s so careful- keeps her tucked away and hidden from any potential cross over with his work.

The next few days are a blur and Simon’s mental health has seen better days. 

He resigns himself, even when Laswell gets a hit and the 141 are loaded into a helo, to the fact that at best this will be a body retrieval mission. 

Even as Soap gives a reassuring knock into his shoulder- we’ll get her back, LT- as confident as ever. 

His sweet girl is dead, just like every other person Simon has ever cared about. 

He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve losing them all. The only ones he has left are his team, and that’s a tenuous state at best. His family was good. They were normal people with normal lives. She is good and a normal person. 

Her only sin is being foolish enough to love him. 

Some time between getting on the bird and offloading, Simon forces the thoughts in a corner and blocks them off. 

Simon, the terrified boyfriend, gives way to Ghost so he can get through this in one piece. He just wants to find her, bring her home and bury her body. He’s numb to anything beyond the scope of the plan he’s formed in his mind. 

It’s laughably easy. A fringe group the 141 has had altercations with- she’s not exactly a high profile prisoner. They just wanted to fuck with Simon.

There’s no satisfaction or vindication as they clear the building floor by floor. 

He feels nothing.

The further they venture into the building with no sign of her, the pit in his stomach sinks just as far. There’s no sign of anything concrete or anywhere they’d keep a prisoner. 

And then there, in a corner of a hallway, Ghost spots it-

An acrylic nail lying broken on the ground, dried blood clotted on the tips. 

For the first time in days, Simon feels something. 

It’s not hope. He doesn’t dare hope. 

But it’s confirmation that she has, at some point, been in the building. 

It’s also confirmation that she gave it a fighting chance. 

She’s a civilian- nothing much she can do against professional criminals. But she tried and Simon has to find something in that.

They split into pairs down a hallway clearing rooms. Every door that opens only to not have her in it is like a knife that keeps twisting in his abdomen. 

Just let him have this one thing. 

It’s just as Ghost and Soap have called out clear on another room that he hears Price’s voice call to him down the hall. 

There’s only one reason Price would be calling for him specifically.

As he approaches he can hear the captain again, softer this time. Can’t make out what he’s saying but everything feels slow; like he’s moving under water. 

As his mind prepares him for every horrific potential image waiting for him beyond the threshold of the door- there’s nothing that prepares him for what he sees. 

She’s alive. 

Wide eyed and panicked, which is to be expected all things considered, but she’s here and she’s breathing.

Simon forgets himself entirely. He swings wildly from feeling nothing to feeling everything and it bubbles up all at once as he barrels towards her. 

He forgets that while she knows Simon is SAS she knows nothing of Ghost. Simon works in counter terrorism, yes, but she knows nothing about the mask.

So after being kidnapped and going through God-knows-what in her absence, she’s got no fucking clue the 6’4 fucker with the skull mask gunning for her is her boyfriend. 

The sharp, croaked “Stay the fuck away from me!” doesn’t cut but it does jog his memory enough to know she’s absolutely terrified.

Again there’s that part of him that is proud of her. After everything she’s been through even if she wouldn’t stand a chance in an actual altercation- She’s not huddled in the corner. She looks willing to fight him, until Simon rips the mask off his face. “It’s me, love! It’s me.”

“Simon? What the fuck is that?!”

Rather than scrambling to get away she turns to launch herself at him, a tangle of limbs as they cling to each other and reassure themselves that yes this is real and yes the other is there. That this fucking nightmare is over.

Simon buries his nose in her hair- was so certain he’d be bringing her home in a body bag he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. She’s shaking in his grip, sobs ripping through her as he shushes her gently and murmurs “It’s alright, love. I’ve got you now.”

“As much as I love a good reunion- we need to get going, Ghost.” Price is ever the voice of reason, because Simon’s head is not in the game right now. 

He wants to cling to her and never let her go- he needs to pull his head out of his ass. 

Price isn’t wrong. As much as he has to fight off the impulse to tuck her against his side and keep her there, they have shit to do. 

He won’t truly be able to relax until she’s safely stowed on the helo and they’re on their way back.

It’s a bit easier once he puts the mask on. His brain is trained to focus on work and not let his personal life muddy the waters. Where Simon can’t help but falter, Ghost is dauntless. 

Simon can barely string a thought together now that he has her back in his arms. Simon still cannot believe she’s alive and breathing even after touching, smelling and hearing her. 

But Ghost can focus on getting her to the helo. 

Everything is a blur as Price and Gaz lead with Soap bringing up the rear. 

Ghost can’t quite decide where he wants her- keeps alternating between keeping her behind him in the event they get blindsided, that he’ll take any hits that go past Price or Gaz, or getting her in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, and there’s two SAS soldiers in front of her and two behind.

The hostiles in the building wanted the 141’s attention. Mission fucking accomplished.

The ones they chance across are dropped with ease. Simon is no stranger to returning to a location and making his point. Right now he’s got bigger concerns to be worried about. 

A knot of anxiety lodges itself on his ribcage as they move through the building that doesn’t unwind until he’s got her strapped to her seat in the helo. 

For the first time in days he can breathe. The knot slowly untangles as they ascend.

It finally settles in for both of them that she is out and she is safe. She’s been quiet the whole trek to the helo but Price, Soap, and Gaz have been on enough hostage recovery missions to not be caught off guard as she bursts into tears and buries her face in Ghost’s vest. 

It’s finally safe for her to do so, the adrenaline wearing off as she sobs. 

For the most part the other three men try to avert their eyes and not intrude.

Simon’s always been reserved about his life off base and watching him soothe his partner is bordering too personal for the others to witness.

It comes and goes in waves; Simon will settle her down, crooning quietly in her ear too low for the others to hear. She’ll stifle her tears for a bit as he soothes her. They go straight to medical after landing to have her looked at. She starts up again while waiting for the nurse to come back, trying to apologize to Simon through choked sobs. 

He won’t hear it, softly but firmly brushing her apologies to the side and assuring her everything’s fine now, love. No need to apologize.

He feels physically ill when the nurse delicately asks if she needs a rape kit or screenings done.

The rest of the 141 gives them a wide berth- which is a marked accomplishment because all too often Soap and Gaz are trailing behind him and finding some sort of shenanigans to get up to. Simon is perfectly content with the arrangement. He wants to focus his attention on her and that’s easier to do without the sergeants under foot.

His room on base is much like his entire apartment was before she moved in.

It’s 3am, Simon needs to take a piss and as he’s doing so, he’s not-quite eye level with a sign that says

“★★★★★ -

Would poop here again”

He’s got no idea when or where she found that, let alone put it up, but rolls his eyes good naturedly as he tucks himself away.

Normal people have bathroom decor.

Simon can appreciate a bit or a joke as much as the next person- but while this space is his it’s not something he’s ever felt the need to decorate. It’s a bed for him to crash on in between missions or if he’s too bloody exhausted to safely make the trek home.

There’s only one piece of any sort of personal touch to the room- a framed photo of her.

Simon intends to see her through the next few days- they’ll head home in the morning and realistically there’s only so long John can hold off on calling the boys in again. But the captain says he’ll do what he can to keep Simon home while they settle back in. He’s been due for some leave anyway.

He doesn’t sleep the first night. She swings drastically between being knocked out and jolting awake screaming and crying. Even once she’s gotten over the initial shock of her rescue it still takes time for her nervous system to calm down.

“I’ve got you, love- you’re safe here” he murmurs into her ear as she trembles like a leaf. “We’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll feel better once you’re in our bed.”

The question is twofold- it is to soothe her, and also to gauge her reaction to the prospect of going home. Simon won’t hesitate to set the flat ablaze if it makes her feel better. 

Start fresh.

For now she seems to sleep better if he’s got her pinned up against the wall- the bulk of him a physical barrier to anything that might enter the room.

He’s always slept between her and the door so that’s no hardship- it just takes time to realize she feels safer trapped between him and the wall.

They make it through the first night in one piece, although the next morning she will not stop chewing on her nails. With someone else, he wouldn’t necessarily be surprised- but she’s never been a nail biter.

It dawns on him, as she sits on the couch and bursts into tears, that she wants the nails (or at least the ones that survived the ordeal) off, and is winding herself up too much to take them off the way she knows she should.

Simon goes to her office; he’s watched her enough that he knows the steps and the materials she’ll need, gathering them up before coaxing her to the table.

There’s no interest in redoing them but Simon manages to get the current sets off of her so she doesn’t damage her nail beds- assuming she stops chewing on them (which she does).

Over the next few days he lets her set the pace. She’s jumpy at home and calmer when he takes her out to run errands or just to stretch their legs. 

Maybe he will propose moving sooner rather than later. Their building is a shithole anyway.

He puts her in therapy after a week. It’s the only time he’s away from her. Realistically he knows it’s not good to have her so used to always being within arms length or eyesight of him- it’s not sustainable when eventually he will be called back in. But he has no qualms for the coddling he subjects her to while he’s able to. She’s quiet and comfortable with his hovering in a way she’d never tolerate before she was abducted- he figures he’ll know when she’s feeling a bit like herself again when she starts complaining about him not giving her any space.

Knowing she’s got the therapist gives him some security on how she’ll mentally cope when eventually he needs to leave again.

Her bursting into tears occurs less frequently. If Simon has to pry himself away from her to take a piss in the middle of the night she’s not up, back ramrod straight and waiting for him to come back with wet, teary eyes.

As the days tick on, bleeding into months later, Simon idly acknowledges that-short of when he’s on deployment- this is the longest they’ve gone without having sex. There’s nothing else that goes with that acknowledgement- he’s far more concerned with her well being than he is getting his kicks. He’s just taking stock of all their ‘normals’ and prior to her abduction they’d had quite the active sex life.

It’s one day as they’re watching a movie that it’s apparent Simon isn’t the only one aware of their dry spell.

They’re laying on the couch, her back pressed against his front with one of his heavy arms draped across her rib cage to keep her snuggled up against him as they watch the screen in front.

At first he thinks that she’s repositioning- thinks nothing of it and lifts his arm just enough to allow her the freedom to wiggle to a more comfortable spot. She keeps wiggling though and Simon is trying to keep his mind off the sensation of her arse grinding into his groin. Trying to ignore the way his dick twitches in interest, because- God help him- he's not dead and the love of his life is grinding her arse on him. Bodies are going to do what bodies do, and he can feel himself stiffening in response.

“Sweetheart, you need to sit still,” he whispers the plea into her ear. 

Her head tilts back towards him and lust jolts through his body at the look in her eyes while she still continues to grind against him.

“I miss you, Simon,” and given how he is rarely further than grabbing distance from her, there’s very few other ways to interpret what exactly it is that she is missing.

He’s a goner when she gives him that wide, doe eyed expression paired with the prettiest “Please?” he’s ever heard in his life.

One moment they’re quiet and content laying on their sides on the couch- the next Simon’s gripping her arm and pulling her on top of him as he settles onto his back. She follows his lead and moves so her weight is settled on his hips as his hands grip hers.

It is no hardship on his end to wait for her- the patience never truly even registered in his brain. She can have as much time as she needs and Simon will give it to her gladly.

But his pretty girl batting her eyes at him and pleading softly for him? His patience isn’t the only thing he’s willing to give her.

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t mean to second guess her or make her question herself but he does want to make sure that she’s not acting on obligation.

“Yes, Simon- Please,” and who is he to deny her?

His hands are on her immediately- pulling her towards him and encouraging her to grind, knowing her sweet clit will light up at the friction of her soft panties dragging across the rough material of his jeans.

His lips find hers, separating only briefly as he hauls her dress up and over her head, happily discarding the material in a heap on the floor.

His hands grip her hips, Simon relaxing into the couch while his fingers dug into the pillow soft skin perching above him. He’s straining against the fabric of his jeans- knows the tip of his erection is leaking clear pre and it’s not just going to be her being the reason the fabric has a wet spot.

The couch is certainly not the worst place to be, his beautiful girlfriend’s tits in his face as she grinds down in his lap with little hitching breaths.

“Just like that, pretty,” he encourages, kissing down her jawbone, the length of her neck and across her collar bone before happily mouthing at her breasts which are blessedly right in his face.

Simon groans in pleasure as he teases one nipple, her sweet mewls and the grip on his hair only spurring him on.

Grabbing a handful of her plush arse, he groans in anticipation while switching from one breast to the other.

It’s been a fair while since his back has been shredded by her nails and he can’t wait to feel the bite of them dragging down the length of his spine.

“Lift up, sweetheart,” he instructs, somewhat loath to release her plump bottom but eager to get her dripping for him.

She pulls up enough for him to slip one hand between her legs. Exploring fingers are quick to spread her wetness, dipping between her folds and dragging back up to circle her clit softly.

“Fuck- Simon!” she whines in his ear.

He knows enough by now what makes her tick. Once she’s all warmed up and ready to roll, that sweet cunt of hers could take a thrashing. But warming up involves feather-light touches to get her squirming and squealing for him.

“Feels good, pretty?” he asks despite knowing the answer in the way her arms wrap around his neck and she sags against him, hips twitching as she lets him tease her.

“Ye-yeah,” she murmurs, and presses her lips against his neck as he takes another pass- finger pulling away from her clit just to draw shivers from her as he traces back down her folds and presses ever so lightly against the entrance on her- just to the first knuckle- and making his way back to tease her clit.

Each pass has her rocking her hips more as he slips more of his finger inside, eventually adding a second that has her mewling and squirming in his lap.

He’s going to have one hell of a hickey from how she’s sucking on his neck, but Simon can’t bring himself to care. Not when his ears are graced with the delightful little noises she makes- whimpers of protest as he pulls his fingers out of her, the shaky inhales as he circles her clit and the trembling moan when he once again slides his fingers inside of her to give a few pointed strokes to her g-spot just to get her shivering and blinking up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck you’re wet,” there’s absolutely zero resistance now, even when he slides a third finger inside her. 

“Please,” she mewls into his skin, hips rocking in time with the thrust of his fingers into her.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.” He’s always found her an absolute delight to tease- she gets so flustered and stares at him with that doe eyed, betrayed look- how dare he make her ask for anything when it’s obvious what she wants.

“Please let me cum,” she pants as her eyes screw up in pleasure while his fingers trace and circle her clit for several passes.

“You wanna cum, love?” His tone is just a bit too soft to be a mocking tease despite the way she glares at him. Spoiled little thing so easily sliding back into her old habits.

“I’m going to bite you,” she grumbles in bemused annoyance, brows furrowing as she tries to follow his hand while teasing her.

He doesn’t doubt his little viper for a second, mollifying her displeasure with three fingers digging for that spot that makes her see stars.

“Oh~,” she mewls against him as he stokes the fires of her orgasm with a vengeance. He doesn’t stop, angling his hand so his thumb can stroke against her clit and enjoying the way she trembles against him like a leaf caught in a windstorm.

“That the spot, hm? Right there, innit?” He rumbles low in her ear, a satisfied smirk on his face as she nods in a big sweeping motion against his neck. “Come on, pretty. You wanna cum so badly? Do it.” he baits.

Mission accomplished.

Fuck he’ll remember the vision of her crying and cumming and trembling in his hold, soaking his forearm and abdomen as she squirts, for the rest of his days. His free hand runs soothingly down her back for a few passes before pulling both hands away from her.

She’s immediately whining against him, upset at having his touch taken away. “Simon, please-”

He shushes her with a kiss to her temple, “I know what you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs while deftly undoing his pants and freeing his cock.

It only takes a few strokes, already straining and ready to perform, before they’re shuffling as he pulls and maneuvers her so she’s hovering above him and Oh fuck has Simon missed this as she sinks down on him.

It always takes a couple attempts- he’s not a small man, and doesn’t want to risk injury. Not to mention there’s just something fucking delicious about only giving her a few inches, pulling back and feeding her just a few more. Slow, short, steady thrusts that get deeper bit by bit, having Simon ready to melt into the couch at the bliss of being buried in her by the time she sinks all of her weight onto him, her groin pressing against his.

She’s so fucking warm and wet, clinging to him as she shuffles to get good leverage on top of him to bounce.

Bloody fucking hell does she feel good. “That’s it, pretty. Take it all,” he encourages her while she whimpers above him- if he angles himself just right he can grind her clit against him in a way that has her sucking down air and shivering.

She’s so good for him but he knows there’s only so long she can bounce in his lap- even resting on one knee on the couch and her other foot on the floor so she can shift her weight and give leg a break every now and then, Simon throwing his head back and groaning loudly.

It’s one of the only times he’s particularly verbose- Usually content to be silent and broody unless he has a specific question in mind, the bedroom (or in this case the living room) is the one place where he is a chatterbox. The mouth on him is surreal at times, and while one would think his sweet girl would be use to the filth every now and then he’ll catch her off guard with some particularly out of pocket comment.

For now though, he’s a bit reserved- doesn’t want to go from zero to a hundred out of nowhere.

No, for now his attention is focused on the goddess bouncing on his cock, wondering if he can get her to squirt a second time if he just- he shifts underneath her, changing the angle and fucking hell does that seem to do the trick for her. Swiping one of his thumbs across his tongue before pressing it to her clit and circling again, Simon can’t help the smug look on his face when she squeals. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck,” he grunts as he thrusts up into her. From how those pretty thighs are trembling, her legs are about to give out as he fucks into her. 

“Simon!” She’s yelping his name with glassy eyes and a clenching cunt “Fuck- Simon! Please-”

She doesn’t have the energy to get herself back up again- poor thing, her thighs must be burning, and he can’t help but be a cocky fuck about the fact that she loves riding his dick to the point that she physically can’t keep going.

“On your back, sweetheart,” he instructs with a light swat to her ass- appreciating the way her body jiggles at the impact.

His sweet girl has done so well and worked so hard, it’s only right that he rewards her. Once she’s on her back he grips her under her knees and folds her legs back- gives himself room between those gorgeous thighs.

“Fuck, baby- please don’t stop,” she pants underneath him, back arching in pleasure as his mouth drops to her breasts again. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he twitches in anticipation at the feel of her nails tracing ever so lightly against his back.

“Not gonna stop, pretty girl.” he groans against her skin, alternating between which nipple he has between his teeth.

Fuck she’s clenching down on him like a vice. He knows she’s getting close; squirming in his grip, keeping her legs nice and spread for him. The feel of her nails reaching down his back and dragging up his spine pulls a groan that would be embarrassing if Simon could find it within himself to care in the slightest. The slight pain encourages him as he cants against her.

“Simon!” The sound of his hips knocking into the back of her thighs is loud and messy. Fuck he’s such a goner when she looks up at him with that sweet expression on her face- pure adoration and wonder in her eyes.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking hell, love,” he grunts out, a second wind reinvigorating him when she starts shaking. Those plush thighs shaking in his hold as he knocks the sense out of her pretty head, he’s so fucking close he can taste it but is determined to get her across the finish line first.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he purrs in her ear, “You feel fucking perfect taking my cock. This wet cunt’s all mine, innit?”

All she can do is chant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” over and over again- Simon’s not sure if even she is certain if she’s repeating the word to answer him, or if she’s just babbling because he’s making her feel good and she’s getting close.

“You gonna cum again love? Gonna soak me, hm?” He’s just running his mouth now- knows the shit she likes to hear, reaffirmed by the way she’s shivering in his hold and crying for it with a glassy eyed gaze.

Whatever she is going to respond with is cut off with a squeal. Simon rears back, enjoying the show as she makes a mess all over his cock with her eyes rolled back. He lets go of one of her legs in favor of teasing her clit just shy of overstimulation to prolong her orgasm- she lets him for a time before her hands abandon shredding his back in favor of wrapping around his wrist in a plea for mercy. 

“Simon it’s too much,” she laments with teary eyes as he pulls his hand away with a chuckle and a chaste kiss. 

He stays curled over her, hips driving into hers. “Tell me where you want it,” he instructs.

“Inside! Please, I want it inside!” Her answer is sharp and immediate, the leg not pinned to her chest wrapping around his waist like she is daring him to even try to pull out.

And fuck there is something cathartic about his orgasm when it hits. Burying his face in her soft body while his hips snapped into hers a few times, Simon groans as his vision damn near whites out for a second.

Simon knows better than most that there’s good days and bad days- and a presumed good day can become a bad day quicker than one can blink. But overall he feels like consistently she’s doing better all around. They take their time calming down, Simon showering her in attention and getting a feel for where her head is at. Praising her for how well she did and making sure she feels stable.

He lets out a breath, feeling confident that she’s settled, having a good day, and everything is fine for now. 

And it is. Until about two hours later.

One moment they’re finishing the movie they’d initially started before the impromptu romp on the couch, and then Simon has a 3 second warning of her sniffling as she obviously tries to fight back the tears and then she’s sobbing harder than she has in weeks.

Simon goes from content to concerned in a second, his blood turning to ice in his veins. His immediate assumption is that their prior activities finally caught up with her mentally and now that she’s had time to think it over it wasn’t good. It was too fucking soon to have sex. He should have told her no, should have been gentler, should have-

“Sweetheart? Talk to me,” his voice is tinged with a thinly controlled concern (not panic he convinces himself) and while he means to comfort her, she can hear his tone and that just sets her off anew.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she blubbers, turning to face him. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”

That settles Simon’s nerves somewhat, stroking her back and pulling her close to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” he soothes her, listening to her sniffle against his shirt after shoving her into the crook of his neck.

“I just want to feel normal again,” she sobs into his collar.

“You will, love,” he assures her- never mind that ‘normal’ is something that even he struggles with on a near daily basis. “It’ll take time but you’ll get there. I promise.”

He’s a bastard for making a promise to her that he can’t guarantee to keep. There’s a part of him that knows that- hell, he’s been working on his shit for years and he still doesn’t feel normal most days.

But while he can’t promise that she’ll ever get back to feeling exactly the same as she did before all of this happened, he can promise that he’ll be by her side and ensure she’s adjusting. It will take time, and work, but Simon will make sure she gets there one step at a time.

[brights-place]

Can request a clay and Floyd ,branch ( separately)with a s/o who pushes themselves to much and then gets hurt one day and they decide to force them not to push themselves

Please and thank you

Young Brozone bro's with overworking S/O

Pairing: Brozone X S/O (Seperate)

Warnings: Cursing, fluff, overworking s/o

A/N: Ahhh! this is fun to write and I have been overworking myself too so this was nice to write hope you like! credits to the artist since I ran out of other brozone photos!

Clay

- Okay but Clay seems like the guy that gets so mad when you don’t eat even if it’s only been for a few hours because you’re not taking care of yourself - He entered the room after dealing with Viva and stared at you with confusion - Clay noticed that you were alseep on your bed as a look of worry and slight annoyance for you not taking care of yourself infront of him - Whenever you fall asleep from working too long/being online too long he'll always tuck you into bed and give you a kiss on the forehead.

- He has all your favorite snacks memorized and has them stocked up for you.

- When he thinks you're asleep he will tell you stories about him from his past and you will admit sometimes you could NEVER see him doing those things.

- He would kiss your cheek and tell you how much he was worried as you sigh in relaxation in his arms

Floyd

- He enters the room and looks around - Floyd was tired and yawned wanting nothing more then cuddle you while listening to some music together and talking about eachothers day - The definition of a worry wart once he sees that your head is resting on your desk fast asleep. - Finally chuckles once he realized you were just tired from a long day of running errands and doing hours upon hours of paper work that price had asked of you - Though yes you had gotten most of them done, there was still atleast a bit more to go through but he refused to let you do it considering you had already burnt yourself out

- Doesn’t take no as an answer and makes sure to treat you to your favorite things! Like food, dessert, run a bath for you and cuddle for the rest of the night. - Wants you at your very best and refuses to let you work yourself like that again. Despite laughing at the situation he was actually worried - He kisses your cheeks and peppers your face with love as he tried to convince you to take more breaks

Branch

- Branch is protective and caring, always looking out for your well-being and making sure they're okay

- He knows you have the tendency to overwork themselves and push themselves to the point of exhaustion.

- Branch often tries to convince you to take things slower and to take care of themselves but your stubborn

- Despite his best efforts you occasionally tends to disregard his suggestions and continue to push yourself

- Though yes you had gotten most of them done, there was still atleast a bit more to go through but he refused to let you do it considering you had already burnt yourself out

- Doesn’t take no as an answer and makes sure to treat you to your favorite things - Like food, dessert, run a bath for you and cuddle for the rest of the night. - branch noticed that you were alseep on your bed as a look of worry and slight annoyance for you not taking care of yourself infront of him - Whenever you fall asleep from working too long/being online too long he'll always tuck you into bed and give you a kiss on the forehead.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x afab!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: 18+, smut without plot, handjob, blowjob/face fucking, facial, cum eating, praise, slight degrading if you squint, a dab of female masturbation 

Summary: There is no better way for Miguel to distract himself from a horrible workday then with a little assistance from you.

A/N: First time ever writing smut, so I apologize if it's horrible and it's the least sexiest thing on earth!

Word Count: 2.8K (barely edited)

The multiverse is a place that needs constant attention. It never resets, never takes a break. And for Miguel, it means the same thing. He needs to work tirelessly on it. It’s a very real possibility that if he looks away for even a few seconds, it could come crashing down with no way to restore it. In mere seconds, a world could be erased as if it never existed. Millions of lives can be lost. The people he loves and dedicates his life to protecting can slip through his fingers. He knows from experience, and he never wants a fresh reminder. He doesn't want anyone else to know how that feels.

So, it isn't uncommon for him to stay in his office, studying fluorescent yellow screens while the world is asleep. He spends more time in his office than he does anywhere else. So much so that it's more of a home than his actual home is. It's a sad thought, but he doesn't particularly mind it. He has Lyla to keep him busy and he gets the occasional visits from Peter B. and Jessica, paired by random drop-ins from other Spiders for missions. But, today's events have his face in a deeper scowl than usual. His brows creasing his skin in leftover annoyance and his eyes glaring at the information before him. 

An anomaly had caused more trouble than predicted, causing great casualties and a mess of reports to read through. Every little thing seemed to make his jaw grind too. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that he had been running for more than 12 hours without a proper meal, but he was snapping and growling at anyone who looked at him for too long or caused even the slightest inconvenience. Even Lyla stopped her usual teasing in favor of not being put on “Do Not Disturb” until further notice.

Of course, news of his erratic behavior had reached your ears almost instantly. You had been in your own dimension for the past few days, being unneeded for any missions and using the time to take care of any trouble in your world. This also meant you and Miguel had little to no contact for those few days. But even so, you knew exactly where to find the hunkering man at such a late hour. 

You open a portal and step through, tilting your head up to stare at the floating platform. You keep your movements minimal to reduce the amount of noise as you sling yourself up, landing with a soft thud that doesn't catch Miguel’s attention. You walk gently up to him and keep your movements slow to not startle him when your hands softly land on his shoulders. Your palms make quick work to ease the knots in his shoulders as you lean down and kiss the side of his neck. 

Before you even speak, hell before you even touched him, Miguel knew it was you. It was almost impossible to keep your presence hidden from him. He had perfectly memorized the way your steps sound. On any surface. He knows the way your feet drag slightly when you walk on carpet and the rhythmic pattern of your feet on hardwood flooring as you purposely walk from plank to plank. He especially knows that when you step with your right foot, the sound is lighter than the ones from your left as you walk along the metal platform of his office. And even if he didn't recognize you from your steps, your wonderfully sweet smell filled his nose the second you stepped through the portal.

"Hey, Migs. I've missed you," You whisper in his ear as you take in the smell of him. It’s one of your favorite smells in the whole world, and it drives you crazy that the only source of it you have while you’re away is one of his old college shirts that has started to smell more like you than of him. 

You didn't wait for him to respond as you wrapped your arms around his upper chest from behind, earning a small nip from Miguel’s fangs to your wrist as a greeting. You giggled and moved around to sit on his lap, being sure to not obscure his view of the monitors. Miguel wraps his arms around you lazily before looking down at you with tired eyes, "What are you doing here? It's late. You should be in bed." 

You tilt your head and raise a brow, "Oh, yeah? You're one to talk. After the day I heard you had, you should be the one at home sleeping right now. The multiverse knows you need it." Miguel can't fight the small smirk that forms on his face from your sass. God, he really did miss you while you were gone. 

"The multiverse is inanimate. It can't form any independent or coherent thoughts and conclusions," Miguel teases back as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, it's his turn to consume your scent. It helps his sore and stiff muscles relax and he almost purrs at the comfort it provides his overused mind. You reach a hand up and massage the back of his head, earning a pleased sigh from the man. He pulls away slightly and looks back up at you, "But, seriously, why aren't you at home?" 

You roll your eyes at his nerdy, know-it-all response before pecking his lips. You can't help it when he has that tired, pouty look on his face. It's adorable. "I'm here to convince you to take a break. Go to bed. We can go home and rest for a few hours."

The offer is incredibly appealing. He almost agrees immediately, the words on the tip of his tongue. But then he becomes aware of the yellow lights glowing on your skin and his eyes focus back on the screens before him. He had so much work left to do. Reports that still need to be read through, data that needs to be sorted, calculations that need to be made, earths that need to be scanned for irregular activity. The list is endless, infinite. He can't afford to rest. Even if it's what he so desperately needs and wants at that very moment. 

Before he has the chance to tell you no, you press your lips to his. It's slow and it tries to make up for the time you've been away, but it quickly speeds up and turns into something more hungry as you reposition yourself so that you're straddling his lap. Miguel hums and grabs onto your hips, giving it a tight squeeze. Your hands get lost in his hair and you move from his mouth, to his jaw, and down to his neck. You kiss and suck and nibble at the skin, mumbling against him, "Take a break, Miguel. Let me give your brain a moment to relax."

A soft groan parts from his lips as your suggestive words float into his ears and down to his cock. It strains against the material of his suit, wanting to be freed from its confines. He gently grasps you by the back of your neck and pulls you face to face with him. He stares at you with red, lust filled eyes as he nips at your lower lip before smashing your lips back to his. Another heated kiss is his sign of agreement as his hands roam around your body. He grabs at what he can as he travels his hands up and into your hair, tugging slightly to earn that small moan that he knows you’ll give him. 

In seconds, his suit is deactivated. It disappears entirely and you gasp as you feel his hardness press up against you. You pull away from him to catch your breath as your hand reaches out to stroke him. A sharp hiss leaves his lips as your soft hands play with his balls before your thumb comes up to rub at his tip in slow circles. His hands leave your hair to grip onto your waist, squeezing the skin through your suit as he looks down to watch you play with his dick. The sight makes him thrust his hips up into your hands and you squeeze him a little more tightly. 

"Ay coño, your hand is so soft," Miguel murmurs as your hand pumps him a few times. You practically beam at his praise before you give him one last, sharp jerk. 

He furrows his brows as you stop, about to open his mouth in protest before you stand up and remove your suit. It falls to the ground, forming soft padding on the hard floor before you sink to your knees before him. Quickly, Miguel spreads his legs apart so you can fit yourself between them as his hand reaches down to caress your cheek, "You look so pretty like this, on your knees for me."

You can't help the pleased sigh that leaves your lips before you press a gentle kiss to his tip. It's swollen and red, begging for attention as precum dribbles from his slit. Your mouth practically waters as you kitten lick him, earning a deep groan from Miguel. He watches attentively as you happily let his taste bloom across your tongue. It's a bit salty, but completely masculine. Completely Miguel. You run your tongue down his entire length a few times, each time stopping to suck his tip gently before continuing down and back up. You only stop when Miguel tugs sharply on your hair. 

"Stop teasing, Y/N," He growls at you as he lifts your face away. You actually whimper as distance is put between your mouth and his cock. The sound only fuels Miguel’s ego, knowing how needy you are to taste him. To please him. 

He guides your mouth back over him, watching as you open your mouth to take him. You hum when he lowers your face and he enters your mouth. He reaches the back of your throat, and you hold yourself there to get used to the feeling. After a few seconds, you bob your head back up, only to take him to the back of your throat again. Miguel moans and holds your hair tighter,  and it encourages you to continue. He grits his teeth and lets you have control for a few minutes as you speed up. 

But your control soon comes to an end as Miguel's other hand comes to cradle your head. You look up at him to find him staring at you with the same heated lust in his eyes. A low rumble vibrates from his throat when your eyes meet his. He can't help but think how pretty you are with your shiny eyes looking up at him through soft lashes and your skin all flushed from his attention. "Keep looking at me, don't look away."

He starts off slow, pushing your head down and guiding it back up. He takes his time with your mouth, jaw grinding at the warmth that surrounds his cock. He watches as he disappears into your mouth, only to be revealed again with your saliva coating him. The sight makes him feral, and he speeds up without warning. You gag as he rapidly moves your head and you bring your hands up to grip his thighs for support. Your eyes are hooded as you look up at him, moaning around his length at his roughness. You’re sure that you're forming a puddle of arousal underneath you. The scent of it is thick in the air, it smells so heavily of the both of you. It's almost dizzying.

For Miguel, it's worse with his enhanced senses. It's making it hard for him to control himself. Being able to smell your slick so heavily, knowing it's because it turns you on that he's using your mouth to get off. There isn't anything better than being completely consumed by you, by your touch, your mouth, your scent. It makes him snap. He holds your face in place, deciding it better to fuck himself into your face. He repositions his hands, getting a better grip on your hair as he thrusts into your mouth. You gag repeatedly and each time he thrusts out, saliva trails after him and runs down your chin. It's messy and primal. And you can't help yourself from trailing your hands down your body, nudging your panties over to play with your clit. 

The movement instantly catches Miguel’s attention and he groans. He wishes he had a better view. His position on the chair, combined with his dick in your mouth, obscures the view of your pretty pussy. But he can still see the small movements of your body, the way your shoulder moves and the roll of your hips causes the fabric of your suit to shuffle. He almost pulls out to see more, but when your body jolts with a whine from the contact on your clit, he knows that this time he’d be satisfied with listening. You can give him a clearer view later. 

“What a dirty girl. You like this so much, don’t you? You like me fucking your pretty little mouth? It makes you so desperate to touch yourself, right? Poor little Y/N,” he coos teasingly at you as he thrusts harder. Your throat contracts with more gags and it makes his eyes roll back and he leans his head back slightly. It feels amazing and he’s sure that he could spend the rest of his night thrusting into your mouth. 

You feel wet and sticky, everywhere. Your chin and neck are covered in globs of spit and tears fall from your eyes. They run down your face, getting caught in your lashes and mixing with the saliva on your chin. Your body has built up a thin shine of sweat and it both cools you down and heats your skin. Your pussy is completely drenched and you can feel your arousal slide down your thighs, if it isn’t rolling down your thigh then it's on your fingers and being massaged into your throbbing bud. The constant stimulation and the pure pleasure you get from Miguel using your mouth meets in a warm ball in your lower stomach. Each thrust and circle threatens that ball to burst, and you moan to let Miguel know. 

But he can already tell, even if he can't feel it physically. It's in the way your eyes are fighting to stay open and the slight twitch your body has. He knows you’re close. And he is too. His body is tightening and his thrusts are more sloppy and rushed as he lets out a series of curses and grunts. He’s trying to keep it together, but it's so hard when your desperate noises travel along his dick with such intensity. It only takes a few more thrusts until his cock twitches out of your mouth and he moans out a swear as his hot cum releases onto your face. His body shakes slightly and his breathing is irregular as he looks down at you, and the sight makes him harden again. 

The thick, white fluid runs down your face slowly, some of it collecting in your mouth with your eyes closed. Your body is shaking too, and Miguel realizes you finished too. Your hand is still lazily rubbing circles on your clit, but it slows into a stop as you open your eyes again. You flutter your lashes up at him and Miguel gives you a slow smile. You return it as one of your hands reaches up and pushes some of his cum into your mouth. His eyes instantly darken as you swallow with a hum. Delicious. “Don’t want to be wasteful, right?” You giggle, resting your cheek against one of his thighs and his hand rises to stroke your hair. 

He chuckles back and shakes his head, reaching over to grab napkins from his desk. He gently wipes his release off your face, letting you suck on his fingers when his cum clings to them. He throws the soiled napkins in a nearby trash can before pulling you up and onto his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, sprinkling it with slight kisses, “Thank you for the distraction, mi vida.” 

Your smile widens as you kiss the top of his head, “Was it good enough to convince you to come home with me to take a bath and sleep?” The hope is clear in your voice, but so is the understanding if he decides to refuse. But Miguel nods against your shoulder and releases you when you move to get up. 

You kiss his hand as you pull him up, stepping over your dirtied suit as Miguel’s reappears. He picks it up for you, holding it to his nose for a second and then letting his hand drop back down at his side when you hit his arm in embarrassment. He can only chuckle at you before activating a portal back to your place. Then, he turns back to you with a coy smile as he remembers an earlier thought, “I believe you owe me a show, anyways.”

Miguel did end up getting a clearer view that night, along with his much needed distraction.

So sorry for any mistakes with the spanish. I know next to nothing about the language so I’m limiting the amount I use it heavily. But I hope you enjoyed it!

[lawomi]

S-Leopard or... Leo! He only ever emotes to Bepo for some time lol.

OC Omi is She/Any nonbinary

🔞 Bluesky 💃

S-Leopard or S-Seal headcanons/speculation because fun or something-- under cut

So, I'm highly doubting this seraphim exists for various reasons. Two being:

1) Law was not part of the first 7 warlords

2) The Op Op Fruit would be god damn op

3 (edit): lmao the recent anime episode reminded me they were shown all 7 seraphim pods. However, this *is* a special case, so who freaking knows.

Leo is likely not the first of the S-Leopard model to exist thanks to the ability to grant immortality. One work around I assume is maybe the seraphim can be "repaired"?

Hence...

Since these seraphim may have been multi-produced to give people immortality, they may not have been given the whole hyper-aging or gigantification the other seraphim experience.

While he obviously takes most after Law, he also has some traits of King as the other seraphim do.

Leo has...

Incredible strength & training

The ability to memorize entire books within seconds to minutes.

Adaptability to new techniques or battle styles.

A smaller replica of Kikoku

A love for soft & cute animals (resulting in Bepo being his "favorite" parent but mom's a close second since she's a mink too.)

A serious personality + is impulsive and short tempered

A love for knowledge / Medical knowledge

Law's core beliefs such as not directly killing people unnecessarily

Some of Law's core memories (although vague) of the Donquixote family.

A similar taste pallet and dress preference to Law (and King)

I like to think since seraphim are cyborgs they have humanity. Leo tends to gather his morals the more he reads about things like psychology, social studies, history, ext as well as the Heart Pirates' influences.

[smoochhyuka]

What about bf!anton with a loud s/o hes so soft spoken how would he be

Such a cute idea! I am a little bit of a loud person myself, so this is quite self-indulgent, haha.

Anton with a loud s/o

You compliment each other perfectly.

○o。content warnings! SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, mention of alcohol, reader is described as loud, talkative, earnest, free-spirited and a little crazy/quirky, edited for spelling

You both struggle with volume, you're just on the polar opposites of the spectrum. Therefore, you can relate to each other well, always being told you're too quiet/loud, being criticized for your voices, or being teased about it.

Still, it might seem odd that someone as gentle and introverted as Anton would date someone as loud and chaotic as you, but you compliment each other perfectly.

He loves how enthusiastic you are, even about the littlest things, although you often startle him with your sudden outbursts.

"ANTON, look at that cute squirrel over there!" you squeal, tugging at his hand. Your boyfriend, clutching his heart with the other, breathes out heavily. He opens his eyes again after the initial shock, missing the squirrel. (the drama)

You never fail to hype him up. If he shows you something, whether it be a new song, something he decorated or his new muscle growth -- you're not afraid to praise him to the heavens and back. At first, he's shy about it, but later on in the relationship he'll take the praise, he might even make a few snarky remarks.

Since you're so honest about your feelings and thoughts, Anton also feels comfortable speaking a lot more openly about them around others, knowing it's okay to show vulnerability.

Thinks it's cute when you're acting a little crazy, dancing around the house or yapping until his ears bleed. He's seriously memorized by you, he's never bored. Sometimes he'll just sit on the sofa, cuddling a pillow or a plushie, and watch you/listen to you with a big grin on his face.

You always throw in a few compliments or confessions too, just so casually, it always makes his heart pound.

Your laugh is funnier than the joke itself. It's insane sounding, and he's living for it, always recording you when you're in a fit of laughter. Every time he misses you on tour, or if he's low on energy, he will just listen to these recordings.

Speaking of laughing, you two always have something to at least giggle about. Every week, you have a new running gag, meme or catchphrase you two repeat until everyone is sick of you two.

Around you, he feels so alive, you encourage him so much to step out of his comfort zone. He gets embarrassed easily, but when you're around, all shame leaves his body. Because you won't judge him, and everyone who does gets shut down by you.

He will match your energy after a few drinks, though, sometimes even surpassing you. You'll run around the streets, blasting music, dancing on park benches until the sun rises.

Naturally, some days he's quieter than the others, and he can always rely on you to make up for it, making sure he's heard. If it's an especially awful day (e.g. he's sick or in a bad mood), he'll just whisper to you what he wants, and you're announcing it to everyone in a 2-mile radius.

You always listen to him. Sometimes, especially in group settings, people tend to just not to hear him and not really care about what he said in the first place, but you always lean in when he says something and ask him to repeat himself if you didn't catch it. And you actually engage with it as well! Or bring it up later in the conversation, if it's relevant.

If you're speaking too loud in a setting where it's inappropriate, he'll grab your hand and squeeze it a few times, or maybe rub your lower back/shoulders if you didn't get the hint. He knows how humiliating it is to get called out publicly, so he'll always try to get you to relax by caressing you first.

He calls you his "little megaphone", my "crazy boy/girl", "professional yapper" or my "background/white noise" (lovingly <3)

As an introvert, he loves to have quiet moments, where he can just engage in some brain-dead activity... "brain-dead activity" = watching trash TV while listening to s/o's commentary. If he ACTUALLY needs some time for himself, he'll go write some music in his studio, knowing you won't join him (you are aware he can't write music while you're spinning around in a chair behind him, talking about lunch).

His social battery doesn't decrease with you. Everyone is surprised when Anton tells them (looking refreshed and energized, mind you) that you two spent the whole weekend together. They can't believe he didn't die from feeling overwhelmed.

He worries so much when you're quiet, or talk a lot more quietly, and he misses your chatter. It's a constant distraction, but in a good way. A vacation kind of distraction. He will talk in your place, filling the silence with random topics, hoping you might get distracted by your issues as well.

You learn to enjoy the quiet moments in life, and he gets more courageous. <3

[why-are-you-still-awake]

how would sasuke and neji feel about their s/o having some sort of facial scaring from their past that they are ashamed of how would they comfort them etc

A/n: Thank you for the request Anon, just keep feeding me requests and I’ll produce them lol. Anyway I’ll be more active so yeah.

Warning/content: Talk of physical violence, scarring obviously, use of beautiful in a gender neutral way, did I miss anything?

Characters: Sasuke, Neji.

Sasuke Uchiha

❁ At first Sasuke didn’t say anything about the scar on your face because you never said anything and he mostly kept his thoughts to himself and thought it wasn’t his place to comment on your appearance, you loved you for you. Knowing himself he’d rather not make a comment knowing he might mess it up and hurt your feelings somehow. ❁

❁ He wasn’t sure how it came to be until you told him the story, you were on a mission in the middle of a fight when you were caught off guard and got slashed across the face. Ever since then you were insecure even on a subconscious level about your face, you were afraid that someone would say something nasty about it or think you were ugly. Sasuke didn’t let this slide and after he found out how you felt about your face, he’d subtly compliment you whenever he could.❁

❁ Now if someone made a unsolicited comment about your face, they better hope Sasuke wasn’t around to hear it or they might not be living much longer; he knows very well you can handle yourself however he can’t stand for anyone disrespecting you and will make them regret whatever they said to you.❁

❁ Neji always found you beautiful regardless of the scarring on your face, whenever you guys were just lying together he’d idly rub his fingers over the scar, memorizing its shape and texture. He was always gentle with you and wanted you to feel loved. After al, he knows what it feels like to be ashamed of something on your face. Whenever you two talked, his eyes would track over your entire face multiple times throughout the conversation. He was never shy about it until you called him out and he got all flustered. ❁

❁ Neji never asked how you got the scar, he figured if you wanted to tell him, you would and he certainly wasn’t going to force you to tell him about it especially if it brought back traumatic memories; you decided that you finally wanted to tell him. The entire time you recounted how you got the scar, he listened intently wanting to make you feel heard. He’d tell you to take your time and that you’re not in a rush for anything.❁

❁ Now if anyone tried to insult you, much like how Sasuke would react that wouldn’t work out very well for him especially if Neji knew how insecure you were about your face scar. Neji can be *very* passive aggressive because he doesn’t want to get into any physical confrontation because the Hyuga elders would not be to happy about that. However he will make a quick jab at the person who was insulting you and would make a quick exit as to not escalate the situation further. ❁

Okay, I’ll be fulfilling more requests over the next few days then I’m opening them up again, I hope that was alright and didn’t make you cringe too hard, anyway have a good day, love u

tagging: @ssailormoonn @your-sexual-curiosities

Edit: this flopped hard; maybe I’m just impatient but like-