#was so different seeing the performance so close up man was intense

[nayziiz]

Jealousy, Jealousy | OP81

Lost & Found | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Oscar thrived on the energy you brought to the paddock during race weekends. Your mere presence seemed to anchor him amidst the whirlwind of anticipation and nerves that often accompanied such high-stakes events. Amidst the chaos of the paddock, your steady presence provided him with a sense of comfort and confidence, acting as a stabilising force in the midst of the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere.

Your support didn't just stop at being physically present; it extended to an unwavering encouragement that boosted his morale and mental fortitude. Knowing that you were there, cheering him on from the sidelines, fueled his determination to perform at his best. Your belief in him mirrored his own, serving as a constant reminder of his capabilities and potential.

But perhaps most significantly, your presence seemed to translate into tangible results on the track. Whenever you were there to celebrate with him, Oscar's performance seemed to reach new heights. It was as if your support had a direct correlation to his success, as if your belief in him propelled him forward, pushing him to push the boundaries of his own abilities.

As the weekend unfolded, Oscar found solace in your company, relishing every moment spent together, from leisurely strolls around the paddock to shared lunches and casual conversations while watching replays in the garage. Your presence brought him a sense of contentment, grounding him amidst the intensity of race weekends.

However, a shadow fell over his contentment when he noticed you chatting with Lando. The sight of you laughing at Lando's jokes, your hand resting casually on his arm, ignited a surge of jealousy within Oscar. He couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity as he observed the easy rapport between you and his teammate, the way Lando's eyes seemed to light up in response to your laughter.

In that moment, Oscar's contentment gave way to a gnawing sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined, of watching from the sidelines as you shared a connection with someone he considered a friend. The laughter that had once brought him joy now rang hollow in his ears, overshadowed by the discomfort of seeing you engage with another driver in such a familiar manner.

Later, as Oscar stumbled upon you engrossed in conversation with Pato, a surge of frustration and hurt bubbled up within him. The sight of you hanging onto Pato's every word, your gaze fixed attentively on him, felt like a blow to Oscar's ego. It seemed as though you were captivated by Pato's presence, absorbing his insights and perspectives with an eagerness that Oscar found difficult to stomach.

For Oscar, this encounter with Pato served as a painful reminder of his own perceived insignificance in your eyes. Throughout the day, he had watched as you effortlessly connected with various people in the paddock, never sparing a moment to seek him out or engage with him in the same way. It was as if he didn't even register on your radar, as if his presence didn't matter to you at all.

As Oscar observed you leaning in closely, preoccupied in conversation with a mechanic as he explained the intricate details of Oscar's car, a wave of possessiveness and protectiveness washed over him. Though outwardly composed, inwardly, Oscar's emotions roiled like a storm ready to break.

The sight of you showing interest in the workings of his car, sharing a moment of camaraderie with another man, ignited a primal instinct within Oscar to defend what he considered his territory. The mechanic's presence, while innocent and professional, suddenly felt like a threat to Oscar's sense of security and connection with you.

Behind his calm exterior, Oscar's mind raced with thoughts of competition and rivalry. He felt an overwhelming urge to assert his dominance, to remind everyone in the paddock that you were his, and his alone. The idea of anyone else encroaching on your attention filled him with a fierce determination to reclaim your focus, to ensure that you remained firmly by his side.

In that moment, Oscar's love for you transformed into a fierce, primal instinct to protect and possess. He would do anything to keep you close, to ensure that no other man could come between you. Though his actions might seem extreme to an outsider, for Oscar, it was a matter of preserving what he held most dear: his connection with you.

Despite the storm of emotions raging within him, Oscar knew better than to confront the situation in public. He understood the importance of maintaining a composed facade amidst the public eye, unwilling to air his grievances or reveal his insecurities in front of others. Instead, he made a silent vow to address the issue with you privately, where he could express his feelings without fear of judgement or scrutiny.

As the day wore on and the activities in the paddock continued, Oscar bided his time, keeping his emotions carefully in check. With each passing hour, his resolve to discuss the matter with you grew stronger, fueled by a mixture of frustration, hurt, and a deep-seated desire to salvage what he perceived as a strained connection between them.

It wasn't until you both returned to the privacy of the hotel that Oscar felt the weight of the day's events press upon him once more. As Oscar and you entered the hushed confines of the hotel lobby, the tension between them crackled like electricity in the air. Oscar's jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Finally, as the elevator doors closed behind them, sealing them in a cocoon of privacy, Oscar couldn't hold back any longer.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice taut with emotion. Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the gravity of his tone.

“What's on your mind?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing sense of unease.

“You know damn well what's on my mind,” Oscar snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I saw you today, cozying up to Lando, Pato, and that mechanic. It felt like I was invisible to you, like you didn't even bother to look for me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could respond, Oscar continued, his words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. “I can't stand seeing you with other guys, laughing and flirting like I'm not even here. I know I should trust you, but it's driving me insane.”

A flicker of hurt flashed across your face, mingling with empathy as you reached out to touch his arm gently.

“I was just being polite, Osc. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was flirting with them. I didn't realise it was affecting you like this," you said softly, your voice laced with sincerity. Oscar's shoulders sagged with relief at your understanding, but the fire in his eyes didn't dim.

“I just... I need you to know how much you mean to me,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I can't stand the thought of losing you.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m with you then, and not one of those stupid boys. Now I can just show you how much I love being yours,” You told him.

Tension hung in the air between them, but as you reached out to envelop him in a comforting embrace, Oscar felt a weight lift from his chest. A tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze, a silent reassurance passing between you.

“I'm here, with you, completely and utterly yours,” you continued, your voice filled with conviction.

In that moment, as the weight of the day's tensions melted away, Oscar felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering love and devotion you offered him. With a renewed sense of purpose, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace.

Together, in the quiet sanctuary of the hotel room, you found solace in each other's arms, reaffirming the bond that held you together amidst the chaos of the racing world. And as you whispered words of love and reassurance into the night, Oscar knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you by his side, he could weather any storm. And, perhaps learn to be less jealous at times.

[mer-se]

Prima facie round two. 5/17 🎭🤍

[oncomingnight]

Yandere! Rockstar x Fem Reader ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

"My old man is a bad man."

Andrew was the guitarist of an extremely notable band credited for pioneering a sub-genre of metal. He's in the top three of most talented people to ever grace a pair of guitar strings. His band's management is constantly being called to fly them out to perform at festivals, the number of attendees rising after the date of their performance being announced.

His left forearm is covered in a variety of tattoos whilst part of his right is blackened, he also has your name tattooed on the side of his neck and lower back.

He's known for always joking around and giggling about something, someone could say something that has sexual undertones and you'll see a toothy grin spread across his face before he opens his mouth to be inappropriate. Whenever he's around you, which is all the time, he has a permanent, Cheshire cat -like grin on his face. He truly cannot help it, you ignite such happiness within him and he never fails to let you know just how much you've changed his life for the better.

His obsession with you always manages to shine through, I mean, it's not like he's trying to hide it. Why would he even want to? You deserve to be knowledgeable of his soul shattering devotion towards you, he shows his fidelity in several different ways.

Andrew believes that absolutely nothing compares to the celestial sight of you. You're the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes, he can't help but let you know exactly how he feels when it comes to you.

"Just look at yourself, baby, look at my pretty girl. Do you know what you do to me?"

Andrew, and he'd even say this himself, is extremely clingy when it comes to you. There are intense amounts of photos taken of the two of you where his arms are wrapped around your torso, he's kissing your cheek, holding your hand as he follows your lead. When the two of you are in bed, you don't have any personal space whatsoever, his head is always placed onto your chest, stomach or thighs. It's quite humorous as many are intimidated by him and his presence meanwhile you have a photo of him curling around you in his sleep like a kitten.

Nothing gets past him, especially when it's in regard to you. So don't even try to hide your feelings when it comes to a situation in your life, whether it's good or bad. You could be facing a hardship and yet still lie in his face about your state of mind, "I'm fine", you'd say. He doesn't want you to try to 'protect' him from your sadness, he doesn't want you to talk to anyone else about your problems except him. He knows exactly how to take care of you, love, adore, cherish and accommodate you, do you think anyone else would be able to do so in the same hopelessly devoted manner as him?

Not a chance.

Whenever the two of you are at a public outing or a casual setting with friends, he's constantly by your side. He doesn't trust other people around you as he's perfectly aware of the dangerous actions they're capable of. His arm is constantly draped around your waist, an unreasonably harsh glare being thrown towards anyone he thinks is getting 'too close'.

During interviews or in simple conversations with his friends, he'll always find a way to mention you. It doesn't matter how serious of a topic it is that they're conversing about, there'll be a long pause before he's heard saying, "You wanna know somethin'? Y/n-", that's the beginning of the long tangent he's about to go on.

When the band is going on tour, you don't miss him, because he doesn't give you a chance to do so. He has always brought you along with him and his band mates when it's time to go on another world tour. He's incredibly grateful to be able to wake up with you by his side in a hotel with an incredible view of whichever city you're currently in.

Andrew is incredible when it comes to holidays and special occasions, he goes out of his way to give you everything you've ever asked for. Andrew absolutely adores the comfortable, domestic atmosphere he feels with you when Christmas comes around. He loves baking sugar cookies, assembling gingerbread houses, wrapping the dozens of presents he'd purchased for you, decorating the interior & exterior of your shared home, it's all so special to him.

There are several videos on the internet with an abundance of views where he's defending you like a vicious dog. He's far from scared to confront another musician that's commented on you or the relationship the two of you share, he could care less if someone was shit talking his musical abilities, it's the subject of you that he cares so much for. There's been several times where he's broken someones bones for the way they spoke about you, this isn't something he'd ever apologize for. In his opinion, if you wouldn't kill for the person you claim to love, you don't truly care for them.

He went through a lot during his childhood and it's shown through his hesitance of being vulnerable with those around him, if someone begins crying in front of him, he'll feel incredibly uncomfortable. Though, he doesn't feel that way with you, he doesn't feel constricted or judged when he talked to you about certain things that were committed against him as a child. Andrew has cried in front of you an incredible amount of times for varying reasons, this doesn't scare you away, though, how could it? If anything, it bonds your hearts even tighter together. The moment he decided you were his, the light of his life, the one he could bare himself to, your future was sealed.

The nicknames he chooses to call you by vary from hopelessly romantic to outright silly. "Sweetheart", "baby", "honey", /"toots", "sweet cheeks".

If he notices your liking towards a specific, dessert, dish or drink, he'll immediately commit himself to learning how to make them at home for you.

[biteofcherry]

Sweet Thrill

mafia!Ari Levinson x female reader; mob boss Ari Levinson x female reader

summary: Many would consider your job as a dancer at Lloyd Hansen’s exclusive night club to be exciting or scary, but honestly you see it as predictable and stable. It’s mostly a routine. That’s until Ari Levinson enters the club. You draw his attention and he installs himself in your space, bringing fear and thrill along with him. 

warnings: mostly consensual, but with a peppering of faint dub-con; soft dark Ari Levinson; possessive behavior; light pet play; fear kink; light Master/pet play; bdsm undertones; power imbalance; fingering; pet names; collaring; very very subtle degradation and humiliation (nothing hardcore)

You were used to the glow of the lightened platforms and curious eyes tracing your body as you wriggled against silk scarves. You entertained patrons of Hansen’s exclusive club three nights a week - a form of aerial dance with heavy drapes of silk, just with less acrobatics.  

Lloyd knew his clientele. He knew some of them are bored and looking for typical visual entertainment, with a side of members-only high class to boost their moods. Some of his guests were more sophisticated, had less boring tastes. 

Hence Lloyd’s idea to add unique performances to spice up the classic pole dancing routines, like belly dancers, or your sensual play with silk. 

Since the performances were only that - a show no touch - you felt quite comfortable and confident. And Lloyd, for all his sociopathic ticks, paid really fucking good money. Enough for you to keep studying for your degree, without having to balance three different jobs. 

Out there on the little round stage you focused on your dance and poses, sometimes a repetitive movement, and let your thoughts swim to what you needed to do the next day, or how to crack the problem in your studies; because the club’s patrons were only staring at you and no harm would come your way. No need to be wary.

Especially, since Lloyd made it very clear that his employees weren’t to be disturbed.

If it didn’t come with extra payment, anyway.

Yes, extra payment softened Lloyd’s harsh looks. Made him smirk triumphantly and have a talk with a dancer that caught someone’s attention, convincing her of the benefits.

You never considered such an offer to come your way. Your performance with silk scarves was perhaps an interesting change of pace for some, but never a desirable show they wanted to have right between their spread legs. 

That is until Ari Levinson strolled into Lloyd’s club one night. 

You weren’t even aware of his presence, your thoughts scrambling and rewriting the thesis you were currently working on in your studies as your body twisted against silk curtains, fabric slithering between your thighs and across your torso. 

You had no idea how important, or how powerful that man was. You knew, mostly from gossip and the few observations you did yourself, that Lloyd played bigger games outside of the club. You never thought he dipped as deep to the dark side to have ties to a crime lord of Levinson’s caliber. 

As you had no idea that a dark overlord of a whole fucking coast had unique tastes. 

It was as you twisted between the silk, fingers clenched on the hanging scarves as you bent back, that your gaze landed on a tall, broad man in a dark suit who stepped so close to your podium.

Most intense blue eyes caught your gaze, making you freeze in your position. It was a look of wonder and pure hunger. A dark glint to it that made your heart race, as if you were a prey that sensed a deadly predator approaching, but it also sent a jolt straight to your core. 

Patrons usually watched you with some mild admiration or interest, or disgusting type of lust. This man looked at you with desire for more than just wetting his cock in your cunt. He took in every inch of you, seemed as if he wanted to take all your thoughts as well. 

It was more scary than leering glances, or lewd comments you heard on rare occasions.

At the end of the night, just when you were ready to slip away and drive home, Lloyd called you into his office. 

For a second you feared he was about to complain about your shows not being interesting anymore, but the grin he flashed when you entered spoke of something entirely different. 

“Cupcake!” He greeted you and with a flourish invited you over to a blue, kitsch sofa. 

You sat there stunned when he told you that you’ve caught Ari Levinson’s attention - something (judging by Lloyd’s tone) that was very hard to do - and that he demanded you be exclusively booked for him.

Your shock deepened when Lloyd explained that Ari wasn’t asking for an occasional lap dance, but that you be taken off the main stage and perform in a private room. Only for him. 

He paid Lloyd in advance, to have one of the rooms adjusted to fit your silk curtains over the little platform in the center of the room. Also offered to pay a triple wage of what a standard private dance cost. An offer Lloyd had no desire to refuse, since you unexpectedly appeared to be a golden goose. 

And since Lloyd sweetened the request with a ready annex to your contract, stating that you’d be earning more for this exclusivity, you didn’t hesitate for long.

Perhaps you should have. 

Perhaps, if you knew how out of your comfort zone you find yourself in, you’d decline and argue with Lloyd over it (though you had a feeling this one time he wouldn’t be a charming psychopath, but a manipulative and threatening bastard if you affronted his powerful client with your refusal). 

That’s how you found yourself out of the familiarity of the main stage and bland stares you would have ignored, and on a round podium in a lush, dark interior of a private VIP room. 

With Ari Levinson spread comfortably on the seats, a glass of whisky in his hand, watching you intently. 

Your first evening performing only for him went quietly, somehow calming you down. He only watched you, made no comments, nor attempts to grab you. Merely asked you, between your dances, if you wanted something to drink or eat. 

On your second evening he asked how you’ve been and nodded, pleased, when you replied with a shy smile. He extended his hand to you to help you climb up onto the platform. Then enjoyed your dancing. 

Each time, however, you were unable to simply fall back into the mindless rhythm of your performance. Your thoughts wouldn’t just switch to think of other matters, because they were focused on the predator sitting in front of you. 

Every part of you seemed to be acutely aware of his presence and attention. 

He seemed fascinated. And hungry for every inch of you, inside and outside. 

It terrified you. 

How intense his scrutiny was, how dangerous it was to have a man like Ari Levinson interested in you in any matter; and how, when you went home afterwards, you bit onto your pillow to muffle your sounds as you got yourself off. 

You read about it - how adrenaline and tension from stress can be lowered with a few orgasms.

You just weren’t quite sure if you only relieved nervousness, or if you were actually turned on.

Considering Levinson’s looks, arousal couldn’t be dismissed.

He was the hottest man you’ve ever seen. Big, easily towering over you. With muscles that strained the fabric of his clothes. His hair looked invitingly soft, his beard neatly trimmed and his lips plush and kissable. 

And he kept looking at you - undressing you with his eyes, promising dark sinful things, but also seeing right through you and able to find (and use) your weaknesses. 

When you finished your dance that evening, in a pose with the silk scarves wrapped around your arms and pulling them back as you bent forward, head bow low and ass up high, Ari slowly stood up. 

He stepped close to the little stage and with the pads of his fingers tilted your chin up so you were looking up at him. 

“Almost perfect,” he purred, leaning down a little, “all you need is for your brain to turn off completely.” 

He smirked when you blinked confused.

“All these thoughts go through your head, does your brain ever stop? Do you ever go dumb, kitten?” He chuckled as your eyes got bigger. “I noticed you became more present in the scene when you started dancing for me, but there’s still so much overthinking.”  

“Come.” He patted your cheek and motioned for you to get off the stage.

After a bit of less graceful struggling with the silk scarves - mostly due to nervousness Mr Levinson suddenly caused - you were ready to get down. 

He helped you, his hand waiting for your fingers to slip into his hold. This time, once you found yourself on the floor level, he didn’t let you go. Instead, he sat down on the velvet seat and pulled you onto his lap.

You fell forward with a gasp, which turned into a squeak when he used both hands to grab your hips and make you straddle him. 

With club patrons being fully dressed, usually in suits, and you wearing a set of lingerie, you were always exposed. However, now, being seated in Mr Levinson’s lap, you felt even more naked and vulnerable. 

“S-sir!” You exclaimed, hands resting on his broad shoulders and trying to push yourself off of him. 

“Shh, settle down, kitten.” He cooed. “Nothing bad is going to happen.” 

You were about to point out that it already was, since you never had any guest touch you like he did at the moment. Much less have you straddling them. 

“We can take things as slow as you need.” He rubbed his thumbs along the band of your white, lacy panties. “I will woo you as romantically, as you wish. But this-” Ari gripped your hips tighter and pulled you even closer, your core rubbing right over his bulge- “Is the endgame, kitten.” 

“Mr Levinson.” Your fingers clenched on his shoulders as you tried to keep your breath from hitching at the delicious sensation. “I only dance for you.”

“No, kitten. You dance only for me.” Ari corrected. 

“Dance being the key word here.” You frowned, but somehow you didn’t struggle to escape his hold.

Ari Levinson wasn’t a man whom one could escape easily. Over the weeks you learned bits and pieces, through others and your own curious research. It was all shrouded in a veil of mystery and disappearances, but you understood enough to realize he was a mobster with strict rules and lethal means. 

Trying to fight him could end badly for you. At least that’s what logic suggested. 

There was another part of you, which simply found the whole interaction thrilling. 

I’m either really stupid, or I’ve gone mad, you thought to yourself as a shiver of arousal spread through your body at the dark glint in Ari’s eyes.

“Oh, kitten, you’ll be dancing for me in every sense of the word and more.” He tilted his head to the side, his gaze trained on your face then shifting down your body and back up. 

“You’re a smart girl. I know you’re going for a degree, you have ambitious plans, extracurricular activities.” 

You gulped, realizing Levinson did a background check on you. Maybe even pried into more private and supposedly secure aspects of your life. 

“I’m sure you’ve done as much research on me as you could.” Ari continued in a calm tone. “You have a vague idea of who I am, what I deal with. And, like any smart girl, you’re probably scared. Am I right?” 

You didn’t possess enough bravado (or stupidity) to deny it, so you nodded wordlessly. 

“But it also turns you on, doesn’t it?” a corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.

“No!” You denied hastily, though you felt your face heat up. 

Ari shook his head as he tsk-ed in reprimand. He squeezed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a little forcefully, but not hard enough to cause you pain. 

Your nipples hardened instantly.   

It felt as if your body was completely beyond your control. It slipped under Ari’s control. 

“Don’t lie to me, kitten.” He warned you. 

Before you managed to utter another objection, your lips parted on a gasp as you felt Ari’s other hand settle over your mound. 

He slipped a thumb beneath the fabric of your panties; glided it over your clit and a smear of wetness that slowly sipped from between your folds. 

“Not aroused, huh?” Ari snorted as he brought his hand up and sucked your glistening slick off his finger. 

Your pupils dilated as you watched him wrap his pink lips over his thumb, your mind instantly creating an image of those lips sucking on your clit. Or your nipples. Tormenting each peak until it’s swollen and pulsing unbearably and you scream for mercy. 

“Told you,” Ari sighed in mock-disappointment, “You’re thinking too much, kitten.” 

Holding your chin in his grip, Ari slid his other hand down your body - over one of your breasts, your belly, your hip, and back down between your spread thighs. 

“Thinking about what needs to be done. Thinking of what you should or shouldn’t be doing. Thinking how wrong it is to be turned on by being scared of what a dangerous bastard like me might do to a sweet, little kitten like you.”

His whole palm slid under the waistband of your panties; big fingers cupped your mound. 

“You know what I’ll do to you?” Ari whispered, leaning close enough his lips nearly brushed yours. 

“E v e r y t h i n g.” He chuckled darkly and your whole body shook. 

“I’m going to do every filthy thing that gets this pussy wet.” Slowly, he dragged his fingers up and down over your folds. “I’m going to do everything that makes you smile. Everything that makes you happy.”

“Most of all… I’m going to do everything that turns your brain off.” 

With those words, Ari slid a single digit into your hot, tingling cunt. 

Your mouth opened, a wrecked whimper falling out. Your hands fisted the fabric of Ari’s shirt as his thumb started drawing fast, tight circles over your clit. 

It quickly became a torment, having only one finger stretching your walls, but not moving, while your clit was being rubbed mercilessly, pushing you toward a climax with astonishing speed. 

You tried to push your hips down, rock yourself on Ari’s finger and tempt him to do more with his hand. He squeezed your chin harder.

“Don’t.” He growled. “Don’t think of what you want, or need. Or what you assume I want. Your job isn’t to think. You just take what I give. I decide about everything.” 

Maybe it was the way he tormented your clit, or his words that sank you into dark cushions of mindless pleasure, but you came with a force unknown to you until now. 

None of your toys, or previous partners, made your vision go white and your body clench so painfully.

And it was only on one finger and some clit rubbing, for God’ sake! 

How braindead he’d turn you, if he fucked you with his cock?! 

Your breath was ragged, colors and light slowly registering in your blurry vision as you re-opened your eyes. You were trembling, walls of your cunt fluttering around a single finger still locked inside. Your arms felt heavy and you loosened your grip on Ari’s shirt to lazily drape them around his shoulders.

Ari let go of your chin. His hand slipped into your hair, grabbing a fistful quite gently and holding your head in place as he kissed you. 

Softly at first, treating your lips with tenderness matching the afterglow consuming your lax body. Then he amped the urgency, demanding you to give in to whatever he wanted. 

As he licked over your bottom lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth, a second finger stretched your still pulsing cunt, making you keen into the kiss. 

Ari moved his fingers this time. Increased his pace, despite your futile attempts to slow him down with the motion of your hips. 

When his thumb pressed against your over-sensitive, engorged clit, you nearly wailed.

“Can’t-” you panted against Ari’s mouth. “Too much- Too-”

“Shush.” He bit your lower lip and began tracing rapid eights with his thumb. “Don’t. Fucking. Think. Just feel.” 

Well, you felt like it hurt, but at the same time wasn’t enough. You felt like screaming, but at the same time breathless. You felt overwhelmed, but at the same time light. 

You felt like you had no grip on reality. No coherent thoughts formed in your head, only scraps of your own sounds resonating in your ears. And the sound of Ari’s voice.

“That’s it, kitten.” He praised. “No overthinking, no stress. Just a good pet for her Master to use.”

The hand in your hair eased its grip on your locks and moved down your back. Ari wrapped an arm around you and tightened his hold, trapping you to his body as he pushed a third finger in and curled them in your pussy, scraping them against a sensitive spot inside. 

He knew what he was doing, choosing to hold you in place, because the moment your cunt felt the burning stretch and his fingers pounded on that spot, your body tensed like a string. 

You screamed this time, burying your face (and your sounds) in the crook of Ari’s neck as a crushing orgasm seemed to break and melt each bone in your body. 

You bucked against him, though his hold was so strong you were unable to move much. Wave after wave of bliss rocked your body and Ari’s continuous thrusting seemed to prolong it even more. 

Tiny tremors shook your body as you melted into Ari’s huge frame. When you were conscious and facing him, his size intimidated you. Now you found comfort in it.  

Your face was still hidden in his shoulder, your head filled with nothing but buzzing and echo of your increased heart rate, as Ari’s quiet voice resounded through the haze in your empty head.

Something about bringing a box in. 

He had to be talking to someone, but you didn’t register anyone entering the room. Then you felt his hand resting on your back again, which meant he took it away for a moment, but you were so out of it you didn’t even notice. It meant he probably used his phone.

A few minutes later you heard the polite, but loud knocking on the door. Ari allowed the person to enter and you tensed.

You were straddling his lap, your thighs spread and your body all sorts of wrecked. And Ari’s fingers were still deep in your dripping pussy. Quite possibly visible to whoever entered the room. 

“Shh,” Ari murmured and patted the back of your head. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

You seriously doubted it, considering what kind of power you basically gave Mr Levinson on a silver plate just a few minutes ago.

But at least, it seemed he wouldn’t stretch it to someone else, or cause you any truly degrading humiliation. Well, not any more than he already has. 

Besides, even if you wanted to shoot up in an outburst of outrage, your muscles were turned into jelly and the inner fire too dimmed from an intense orgasm-fest you were just given. 

With an embarrassed squeak you buried your face deeper into the crook of Ari’s neck, to hide yourself from the stranger inside the room. Whoever it was didn’t say a word and less than a few heartbeats later you heard the door closing again. 

Everything, beside the sensual music still spilling from the speakers, was quiet. Your breath slowly evened out. 

Ari caressed your hair and back in lazy strokes, humming in pleasure as if he was petting a real kitty. You were a little offended at this sort of degradation, but it also felt so nice and comforting you didn’t exactly want it to end. 

With a squelching sound, which made you shut your eyes in shame, Ari withdrew his fingers from your cunt. He left a wet print on your ass as he palmed it. 

“Come on up, kitten.” He nudged you to sit upright.

The angle of your hips repositioning made your pulsing core press against his hardened dick. He managed not to groan, but you saw the spark in his eyes and the twitch in his jaw that spoke of the pleasurable tension he felt. 

“Now, tell me-” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and traced the shell of it with his finger- “Did you like it?” 

Your gaze shifted from his face, from his incredibly piercing blue eyes. It dropped to his shoulder again, where you wanted to hide your face and pretend your body didn’t dance to the tune he played. 

“Eyes on me.” Ari tapped your cheek with his fingers. “Did you like what I did to your sweet, hot pussy? Did you like being scared of what I may do?” 

When you huffed and nodded, he tapped your cheek again. A little harder.

“Use your words, kitten. I want to hear it.” 

“I liked it.” You gritted through your teeth, annoyed that he made you say it as much as getting hot all over by admitting it. 

“Are you going to deny that you want me to do it again?” Ari smirked smugly. 

“Are you going to deny that you want to be my good pet and get spoiled and have your brain fucked out?” His dark chuckle tickled your skin as Ari nosed along your jaw and neck. 

“Mr Levinson…” Your voice wavered, as you tried to return to a more professional stance. 

It was ridiculous, really. Trying to be professional and put some distance between the two of you while dripping all over his pants like a needy slut.

“Ari.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. 

“It was hot to hear you call me Mr Levinson in your sweet voice.” He pulled away slightly and smiled. Not exactly a comforting smile, either. Rather one that meant trouble. “But I prefer you call my name. Especially when you scream it.”

“Or Master, since you’re my pretty pet.” 

You didn’t think he was joking about the last part.

Ari leaned back in his seat, but kept you sat up straight in his lap, his hands tracing the lines of your body. He wasn’t groping, simply exploring and connecting. 

“I’m serious, though.” His tone turned nearly business-like, but was less cold than you expected it to be when Ari laid down his law. 

“I consider you mine. In every sense of the word. I knew you were going to be mine the moment I saw you writhe against the silks. So sensual. So unique. So fucking beautiful.”

“And then your eyes.” Ari’s own eyes glinted with awe as he held your gaze. “Unfocused. You were so far away with your thoughts. Not even thinking about a lover as you were dancing, were you? I desired nothing more, but to have your attention on me. I wanted you to focus on me so much that you stop thinking about anything else.” 

His words stirred something hot and intriguing in you. A sort of thrill. No one has ever craved your attention. Hell, no one ever paid enough attention to you to notice when you were drifting away with your thoughts. 

Then there was the word mine.

So possessive. Scary in itself. 

The fact it was a claim of a mafia king should be terrifying. Should make you pack your things and run far, far away. It shouldn’t turn you on. 

And you probably shouldn’t be craving more of it. 

With men like him, they liked the challenge and the chase. Once that was sated they moved onto the new fascinating thing.  

You licked your lips, sliding your hands from Ari’s shoulders and placing them on your own thighs.

“Are you done now?” You asked, tilting your head in a manner mimicking Ari’s. “You got all my focus, turned off my brain. Mission accomplished.” 

“If I were done, I wouldn’t be demanding that you admit that you want me.” Now his tone did turn deeper, lower, a hint of a threat if you tried to escape him. 

“I’m not done with you.” 

You swallowed hard, suddenly fearing what more he could rip from you. 

Ari reached his arm to the side, snatching up a box that laid next to him. You forgot about the mystery box completely. 

It was rectangular and flat, with a velvet finish. When Ari opened it, your breath hitched in your lungs and a mixture of dread and excitement shot through you.

On a silky lining laid a choker made of a dozen delicate chains of white gold. It had a small, diamond encrusted golden ring in the middle, from which dropped two long, fine chains. 

Not a choker. A collar, you realized.

A collar for a pretty pet. Expensive, subtle, easily camouflaged as jewelry - but a collar nonetheless.

“Um, shouldn’t this type of commitment happen much later?” Your heart pounded in your chest, your eyes glued to the shiny fate displayed in a jewelry box. “I never played like that, but don’t, uh, Masters give collars to their slaves- or pets later in the relationship?” 

“Why should I wait when I already know that I’m keeping you forever?” Ari lifted the collar from the box and put it around your neck.

Your hand shot up, fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. He paused, but didn’t move away. Didn’t slap your hand away either. But he held your gaze. His blue eyes darkening, determination shining in his eyes unrelenting. 

“What if I say no?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

Ari didn’t move an inch. His face remained as stoic as seconds before. Something in his eyes seemed to soften for you. And here you were expecting a flash of anger at meeting any resistance. 

“Then you say no.” He replied simply and his mouth quirked into a cheeky half-grin. 

“And then I take other ways to convince you to say yes. I can do sweet romance. I can lavish you with surprises and gifts. I can buy out this whole club and have Hansen dance on a pole for you. If that’s what it takes for you to give in.”

“But-” he slowly licked his lips and looked at you from beneath his long eyelashes- “I think you want to say yes, so I can keep you on the edge of that thrill. You like to be scared and used. And that’s why you’re going to let me stake that claim right now.”

Your chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, but after a long moment you dropped your hand in defeat.

It was partially surrender, knowing Ari Levinson could trap you in even without your consent. However, he was mostly right. There was a part of you that was intrigued to follow into that darkness he lured you into; to see and experience the thrilling surprises and wicked pleasures he would design for you. 

“Good girl.” Ari hummed in approval. 

He locked the collar around your neck and gently ran a finger beneath it. Then he traced his hand down along the two long chains hanging from the diamond circle.

“These-” he took each chain in each of his hands- “can simply be locked around you, serving as a sort of necklace.”

And he showed you, doing exactly that - letting them fall between your breasts and then tying them around your waist, snapping two ends together. 

“Or-” Ari’s fingers trailed along your forearms, until he reached your wrists and wrapped a hand around each. “They can be attached to cuffs.” 

As hot as the idea was, you didn’t find it practical. The golden chains were so delicate that if you trashed in orgasm, or just generally writhed as Ari tormented you, they’d snap instantly. 

Unless they were used only for presentation. As a mark of Ari’s ownership over you. 

The idea of walking somewhere public, like just strolling into your classes, or a restaurant, wearing this collar and maybe even the cuffs which would look like bracelets to a clueless eye… it mortified you. 

And accelerated your pulse in arousal.

“Wear it next time you dance for me.” Ari ran his fingers along the thin chains of the collar, then along your collarbones until he reached lacy straps of your top. 

He pulled one of the straps down your shoulder. Then the other one. Then moved his fingers over the swell of your breasts and upward, along the line of two thin chains leading to a diamond encrusted ring in your collar.

“You’ll wear nothing but this when I split your tight pussy on my cock.” His tone was a molten, dark delight.

His face glowed with triumph when you whimpered at the image of being completely naked sans the ownership jewelry, sweaty and helpless as Ari fucked you into the mattress.

“With time, we’ll get you used to wearing it all the time.”

He clamped his fingers around the front of your neck. He didn’t actually put any pressure. Just the presence of his hand wrapped around your throat the same way a collar did. It made you realize instantly, that’s how it would feel to wear the collar. 

It would be a constant reminder that you belonged to Ari.  

“For now, just wear it for me when we meet.” You were actually grateful for the small steps, but remembering Ari’s earlier words you knew he’d have it his way in the end - even if he had to take things slowly with you.

“Okay.” You nodded, fidgeting with one of the chains around your waist. You felt hot all over. And kind of suffocated. “I can do that.” 

The smile Ari flashed you in return almost made you instantly want to ask how else can you please him. It made all the hardness disappear from his face, crinkles appeared around his eyes and it felt like warmth filled your belly. 

“I knew you’d be good for me, kitten.” Ari kissed you softly. 

You started to really eagerly lean into the kiss when he broke it. He stood up, easily holding you up as he moved, then eased you down on your feet. 

Fuck, but he really towered over you. Like a beast. 

“I’ll drive you home.” Ari announced as he led you toward the door, hand on the small of your back. “When you come to the club on Friday, bring a bag with some overnight necessities. I have a meeting here, but then I’m taking you home for the weekend.” 

“A whole weekend?” You nearly froze on the spot. 

For some reason, a silly thought really, you imagined your interactions to be limited to your performances in the club only. Sure, you’d maybe wear his collar outside sometime, as a reminder to yourself that three nights a week you were bending to Ari Levinson’s whims. 

He really scrambled some of your brain cells since you didn’t consider he was putting himself in your life fully. And pulling you into his life. Possibly, into a very intense life…

“Wha-” You cleared your throat, trying to sound less shaken. “Whatever for?”

“Hmm.” Ari leaned down, his hot breath fanning your ear as he purred: “To do scary things to you, the thought of which will keep you tense and wet for me.”

[judethejudas]

MW2 König x Male! Stripper! Reader Smut

König steps out of his comfort zone to meet an old friend at a club. But what happens when he decides to make a new friend there? In ways he couldn’t imagine.

(S/N) = stripper name

(F/C) = favorite color

WARNING: highly sexual themes, swearing, size difference, cis male reader described.

MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

Dear god. Did he really have to do this?

König stood completely still as he stared up at the red neon sign above him, which read ‘Dante’s Inferno’.

A strip club. A rather diverse one to be exact since the strippers consisted of both women and men.

“Schieße.. I can’t go in there..” The Austrian was too shy to push himself to go in. He’s never been in such a place but his childhood friend, his only friend, had invited him to catch up on old times since it’s been so long.

But.. there were naked men and women in there. He wouldn’t be able to get a single word out if he went in! Oh how his anxiety crippled him.

He couldn’t disappoint his friend though. Not when he was the only one he felt safe with during his childhood. The least he could do was just go in and talk over a drink, right?

König took a deep breath, and vanquished his fear for a moment to walk inside the club.

After paying the fee, he was fully allowed inside and he was able to see just what he was getting himself into.

Women and men, scantily dressed, walked with such a sway of their bodies it was crumbling the beast of a man.

He hated being so tall sometimes. It meant he was always the centre of attraction, even in a place like this.

Both patrons and the strippers would look over at the hulking mass at the doorway, shocked at how tall he was.

König sheepishly walked at a brisk pace to the table where his friend was seated, ignoring the stares of everybody as he passed by.

“My friend! It is so good to see you again, so good!” His friend stepped out of the booth to give him a hug and König let out a quick sigh of relief. He was so happy he wasn’t alone.

“Very good to see you too.” He mumbled out as they both took their seats. The two chatted about their lives, their childhoods together, what they were doing now and whatnot.

König refused to look at any stripper that walked by them or was performing on that stage.

“Still as shy as ever, yeah?” His friend chuckled, giving him a pat on his back.

König chuckled too, just more quietly and almost sounding embarrassed. Oh, he was embarrassed. The pink tint on his cheeks and ears proved it.

“I don’t get out much, more of a workaholic if anything.”

“Oh? Then we need to change that..”

The Austrian man did not like the way he said that.

He felt his heart racing as his friend motioned for one of the strippers to come over.

Oh no.

“I-I, now there’s no need please, I’m fine right here..!”

“Nonsense! This’ll be good for you, I promise!”

A man was coming over, dressed in (f/c) short briefs and adorned with jewelry and harnesses on his legs.

König avoided eye contact when you took a seat next to him.

“Can I help you, boys?” You sat so close to the poor man his thigh was trembling a bit. He could feel your arm and your leg pressed up to his own. This was quite a lot of physical contact for a man like himself.

“Yes. My friend König here would love your services, perhaps in the VIP room?”

“Of course. Come along, darling. I’ll show you the way..” You smiled and took his hand in your own, leaving the booth and heading to the back rooms where the private dances were held.

“My name is (s/n), if you were curious about that.”

König tried to say something after you told him your fake name, but he was at a loss for words and was unable to speak. He could only look downwards to the floor to avoid showing his intense blush.

He could hear the different music in this new part of the building and small, separate rooms, people were receiving lap dances.

König immediately turned his gaze away from them and focused on you, well, your backside at least. And even that made him look away again.

“Okay, love, here we are. Now you just sit there and make yourself comfortable.” You said with a lilt in your voice, leading him to the leather chair and gently pushing him down to make him sit.

König still didn’t look at you when he was sat, but you could clearly see the cute redness on his face.

“You’re awfully shy for such a big man.. Do I make you nervous, hun?” Your fingers pet his cheek and you turned his face so you could look at him directly. The panic in this man’s eyes was so clear to you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No no, I..” He finally spoke but couldn’t finish as he was getting flushed again, staring at your nearly exposed body from top to bottom.

“Is this your first time?” You asked as you sat in his lap, making him stiffen and immediately look to the side. His eyes were wide and he bit his tongue, trying to stifle a stutter he knew was coming on.

You leaned in, your hand was stroking his torso muscles through his black shirt and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be slow and gentle with you. I promise.” You whispered in his ear.

He nearly moaned when he felt a soft pair of lips kissing his jawline and throat. Never had he been kissed like this before. He actually couldn’t even recall a genuine kiss at the moment.

You knew how touch starved he was as soon as his breathing picked up.

Your dance had just started and König was already trembling in his seat.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You gently commanded and he obeyed, his eyes now turned from the wall to you.

Your body was sat up in his lap and your hands caressed your chest and your sides, giving him a half lidded horny stare. You unlatched the harness from your legs and tossed it aside, even playing with the edge of your briefs.

König couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to at that moment. You were so gorgeous and knew exactly what to do with yourself. It was hypnotic.

He nearly whined when you got off his lap and stood up in front of him.

“You’re so hot, König. So fucking cute.” You breathed out as you did your dance, slowly and sensually just for him. He shuddered at the way you said his name and you smirked. He saw your ass when you bent down and how your fingers teasingly pulled your briefs down a little, before pulling them back up and giving your ass a slap and a wiggle.

After a few minutes, you got back into his lap for the more touchier dance.

The part of your routine that involved grinding against his crotch with your own was enough to break him.

He groaned, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and coiled in shame. He knew hardly anything of strip clubs but he did know it was not customary to be so loud.

Now this just won’t do, you thought.

You took his hand away and placed it on your hip, grabbing his other hand too and holding it against your chest. König was unsure of what to do but he was thankful you were taking the lead, even if it was embarrassing for him.

“It’s alright, you can be as loud as you want with me.”

Then you started moving against him again.

König sucked in a harsh breath and gripped onto your hip, careful as to not hurt you since he was very aware of his strength.

His gentility and obvious shyness is what you loved about him so far. He was different than the usual patrons. Sure you’ve gotten some shy ones before but this one?

You were convinced he was a virgin. Or at least had sex just once and not since.

Why were you so convinced? Well, the man you were grinding against was getting quite the hard on. And you felt it bulging against you.

König blushed and apologized to you profusely, to which you hushed him immediately. It wasn’t the first time a man was hard because of you, nothing to be ashamed about. You only leaned in close so that your lips were only inches apart from his.

“Do you want to fuck me, König..?”

The Austrian stared at you with shock, trying to find the right words without sounding like a fool. He had never been asked that before, at least not like this. Being bullied nearly all his life, his self confidence was very low and he never would have expected to have someone as beautiful as you on top of him.

“Ah.. yes.. I do..”

You smiled as your hand came up to touch his cheek gently, making him instantly lean into the warmth.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was a question he could answer easily. With a nod, almost an eager one.

You connected your lips to his as soon as he gave you the okay. His were rough in comparison to yours but it fit so sweetly. You also noticed he wasn’t the greatest kisser due to his inexperience, you liked it though. Your eyes and his closed while you both found a comfortable rhythm with your lips.

What a quick learner he was.

You started grinding against him again and he moaned into the kiss, which allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

His eyes were wide open now when he felt your tongue against his. He kissed someone only once before, in high school when a girl was dared to kiss him but it didn’t feel real at all. It felt like a joke, just someone for all the kids to laugh at. And there was certainly no tongue when he got kissed.

No, it felt like you genuinely wanted him.

You cock was beginning to harden as well and König felt it. If he had any doubts that you wanted him then they were quickly vanquished when he felt your bulge on his.

“Mmh, König..” You moaned out and started kissing his throat, giving it gentle sucks and licks. You didn’t want to rush him since he was most likely new to all this. The little grunts and groans he let out told you so.

Your hands came up to stroke his body through the fitted shirt he wore while his hands groped your hips. He went in for another kiss, now instantly addicted to the way your lips felt on his. Kissing was now his favorite thing.

You two stayed like that for a while. Kissing each other passionately and moving your crotch against his back and forth. He felt huge through his pants. You guessed around 10 inches and very thick.

“Fuck.. liebling.. I don’t think I can wait anymore..” He said after he broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling heavily. You saw the shyness in his eyes still, but the horniness that accompanied it was much stronger.

You smiled and got off his lap to kneel down in front of him, spreading his legs apart with your hands. His bulge was very large and pressing against the fabric of his pants. Poor baby, how uncomfortable he must be feeling right now.

The taller man froze when he saw you unzipping his pants with your teeth, staring up at him with a lustful gaze.

To him, you looked so angelic, despite the actions being so sinful.

His boxers were pulled down and his hard cock immediately stood at full attention. You were shocked at the size of him. He must have been 12 inches instead of 10 like you thought. It was veiny, and already leaking pre cum.

How this man kept the monster behind bars? You had no clue.

You cast aside your thoughts and went to work. Your lips closed around his swollen, red tip and gave it a swirl of your tongue— focusing on the underside. This man deserved some good head and it’s the least you could do, for now.

The man groaned and stopped himself from bucking his hips into your mouth. How horrible it would be if he accidentally made you choke. You personally wouldn’t have minded if he did but he had anxiety about it.

You started taking more of him into your mouth, comfortably fitting 5 inches without pushing too far. Your personal record was 8 inches but the ones you’ve had before were less thicker and longer than König.

Your head bobbed up and down on him at a moderate pace.

“Fuck.. oh fuck.. yes, just like that..” The man above you panted and leaned his head back. He truly felt like a king now, just as his name meant. Every time you found his sweet spot he would shut his eyes tight and feel a shiver coursing through his body.

It was only when you swallowed a few more inches of his cock that he snapped his eyes open and looked down at you, surprised you could take more.

Your gag reflex was long gone since coming into this business. While you weren’t a prostitute, you did find a few men attractive that you’d end up fucking them either in or out of the club. And had plenty of practice in blowjobs.

König couldn’t take it anymore. It was so sudden when he came down your throat that your eyes widened in surprise. Thankfully you suppressed the urge to cough and let his warm cum spurt down.

When he finally finished, you took your mouth off him.

“I’m.. so very sorry.. I should have said something.” He said as he was trying to catch his breath, looking like a guilty puppy.

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it.” You giggled a little and stood up to your feet. It was time for something a little more intimate that both of you could enjoy.

You got back into his lap and took his hand in yours, taking his middle and pointer finger and began sucking on them.

König felt his dick twitch when he felt your tongue in between his fingers. Your saliva coated them generously and he was starting to like the fact he was so big in comparison to you.

When you felt it was enough, you took his fingers out of your mouth and guided them to your ass. He caught on quickly and prodded his pointer at your hole.

Your lips parted into a shuddered moan before helping him push the finger inside you, the other following suit immediately.

It didn’t take you long to start riding his digits to stretch you out. And boy, did his fingers do the job.

“Fuck.. mmh… König~” You dragged his name out in a moan as you felt his fingers curl inside you. He was more confident than before and start fingering you himself after a minute or two.

His lips captured yours in a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You would let out a series of grunts and moans against his mouth when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot within you. Hell, you could cum just from his hands alone without even touching your cock.

But you wanted more.

You abruptly took his fingers out and pulled away from the kiss, and König suddenly worried he had displeased you.

You saw the look on his face and moved closer to him, both your cocks now rubbing against each other.

“I want you so bad, König. I want to feel you inside me. I can’t wait anymore..” You begged him softly.

The Austrian man was relieved to hear you didn’t want to stop, but he did worry about how he would fit inside you.

You took the lead and leaned upwards, grabbing his cock and putting it towards your ass. It would be quite the stretch but you could take it.

His tip entered you first and you gasped, slowly sinking onto him. His cum being a lubricant did help, but it was still a little painful.

König groaned and held you by your waist, making sure you weren’t entirely speared on his dick. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. You knew your limits though and made sure to take it easy.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to bounce up and down— slowly.

You figured riding him would be the easiest position to do considering his massive body. It was like being on top of a giant.

“God, liebling. You feel so good inside..” He groaned. “So warm and tight.”

You whimpered as more of his dick filled you up and you laid your forehead on his shoulder. You were fully bottomed out and it was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure you were feeling. It only encouraged you to ride him at a quicker pace.

The two of you exchanged filthy, desperate noises. König’s confidence was building and he even started groping you from the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock while you bounced on him.

Thank god the VIP room you two were in was at the every end of the hall. There was no reason for anyone to barge in and the music covered yours and his sounds well enough.

You felt his lips sloppily giving you kisses on your neck and collarbone, even sucking just as you did before. His mind was hazy and all he could think about was making you feel good.

König decided to be brave and take over.

He turned himself to the side and laid you down on the leather seat, now fucking you in a missionary position. He was able to go deeper inside this way and hit your prostate each time. He had also discarded his shirt as it was getting much too hot for unnecessary clothing.

There was no time to admire his body. All you could see were the few scars he had and his defined muscles.

You squealed as he started thrusting into you hard. Your legs coming up to latch around his waist.

“Please let me take you home, schatz. We can fuck like this all night..!” He grunted. One hand gripped the couch next to your head and the other held your hip in place. “I don’t want to stop here, not when you make me feel like this.. like I’ll go insane without you.”

His words excited you, but he was pounding into you so hard you couldn’t form a sentence— or even say yes. And oh how you wanted to scream yes.

You gasped when you felt his hand leaving your hip and taking hold of your cock, pumping it up and down quickly to the pace of his thrusts.

You felt like you would go insane without him too. The way his body enveloped yours and made you feel so incredible, so sex crazed and desperate for more of his touch.

Beads of sweat dropped from König’s forehead and onto your stomach. He was getting close to release again and hoped you were too.

Wanting to be closer, he leaned down and held you by your waist— before easily lifting you up and fucking you against his bare, sweaty chest. One hand held you by your ass and the other still on your waist.

You snaked your arms over his shoulders and held him tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

“Make me yours, König.. ” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

The larger man groaned loudly when he heard you and buried himself deep inside, letting his cock fill you with cum.

That was enough to send you over the edge.

Your cock painted his chest as well as your own with cum, letting out a silent gasp and shuddering hard. This had to be the hardest you ever came in your life and you nearly lost consciousness.

Exhausted and well spent, König sat back down with you still on top of him. Both of you trying to catch your breath while stuck in a warm embrace.

Now he had to come up with a good excuse to leave his friend a little earlier than expected.

And you needed to ditch work.

________________

I can’t even begin to describe how appalled I was to find zero male readers for König. APPALLED. I LOVE this man.

Also please let me know if there’s specific parts I goofed on, like spelling errors and whatnot because I was in a rush to make this.

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ One more, bartender! ♡

❥ TAGS: female!reader, Alcohol, state of alcohol intoxication.

It was no secret to you that bartending is a special, delicate art that reveals itself in all its glory only to true connoisseurs. Only to inexperienced eyes the show provided by the bartender is meaningless. In every movement there is a certain strength and dexterity; the coordination of movements must not be disturbed. Behind each time the shaker is shaken again and again, there is precise control; the fingers need to hold the lid firmly, without releasing the main vessel and controlling the method by which the cocktail is stirred inside. All in all, the kind of task where every stroke could be the last. Still, you can't blame those who don't understand it - you once were an amateur yourself.

Before you met him.

Your fates crossed when you walked into that very bar. The bartender's unkempt appearance didn't inspire confidence, but you wanted nothing more than to get drunk and forget yourself. "Bartender, I'd like a cocktail on your recommendation. And make it quick."

The man's brown eyes stare at you from under half-closed eyelids. In them you can see the tiredness so familiar to you, but together with a polite smile it creates a friendly, kind image for him. Interesting. "Young lady, mixing drinks is not about speed."

"What the difference does it make? I just want a drink…"

"Allow me to demonstrate."

Initially unimpressed, you can't deny that with each toss of the shaker, each Gallagher's trick, your interest grows more and more. Immersed in this small but not the least bit humble performance, you don't even notice how the drink is already right under your eyes. "Your cocktail."

From that day on, your outlook changed drastically.

Alcohol was no longer your first and only priority. The more exciting the process of making a drink, the sweeter the anticipation - and the sweeter the anticipation, the more delicious and exquisite the cocktail feels on your tongue.

You can't even imagine what it's like to ignore your surroundings and get drunk just to pass out and forget all the worries. No, now you pay attention to every detail: the clinking of glasses against the wooden surface of the counter. The unobtrusive but atmospheric music playing from the speakers under the ceiling. The ringing murmur of the flowing stream of your drink base, already remotely giving an idea of it's degree and strength. Hell, even the dim lighting, as if to multiply the intimacy of the moment.

But it's him you pay the most attention to. The way his hand adjusts his loose tie, the way his biceps tense with another shake of the shaker, the relaxed and satisfied expression on Gallagher's face at that moment.

…Well, you're in for a real treat. You couldn't help but feel sympathy for the bartender, and your alcohol-fogged mind was sharpening every detail, leaving you no chance for calm.

On the other hand, was there anything wrong with that? You'd been searching for yourself on Penacony for a long time, and with each system hour the excitement waned, leaving only your true shell, empty and bored. That's why you resorted to drinking, a simple and sure way to feel something, albeit one that would imperceptibly wash out over time and zombify your despairing brain. You wished to dive headfirst into pleasure, intense and oblivious - and what was better to drown yourself in, alcohol or lucid love?

Silence lingers between you and Gallagher for several minutes. Nothing out of the ordinary - the man rolls up his sleeve, stirring another drink. Presented between his index and middle finger, the glass slides flawlessly down the bar straight into your hands. As you taste the cocktail, your eyes shamelessly trace his broad shoulders and back, the embossed forearms and gloved hands, from under the edge of which the twisted outlines of veins inadvertently emerge, the vest taut and creased at his waist, and when your gaze goes lower…

No, this isn't gonna work anymore. You need to hear his voice again. "One more, bartender!"

Your voice catches Gallagher's attention. He turns around and gives you an understanding look - after all, you've had a couple of drinks and you're clearly intoxicated, but who better than him to know how to behave in such situations? "Are you sure I won't need to take you outside after this, Y/N?"

"I am so sure! I can take a hundred more of these!" Despite your loud declarations, your feverish hiccups indicated otherwise. "Can you get me another… Please?"

Well. It was not in his power to deny the request of a regular visitor - especially when she was especially sweet and begged so tearfully for another drink. The process repeats itself: the drink is stirred, the ice cubes clink against the glass walls… In just a few short moments, another Gallagher's alcoholic work of art becomes your own, a greedily gulped down and throat-warming delicacy. The man could look at that satisfied smile forever, but apparently you didn't want to leave him alone with himself, constantly pulling him out of his thoughts. "Hey… What would you do if I told you I liked you?"

The audacity. Just a few newly arrived sips in your system and this is where it gets you? Sometimes he wished alcohol wouldn't bring out the courage in customers like you.

Because Gallagher was well aware that these weren't just drunken ramblings. "Uh-huh. And do you like your therapist too, even if they're just doing their job?" and again, that quiet smile that drives you crazy. "I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you."

"Gallagher, I'm serious!"

Your puffed cheeks and a scowl on your face show your displeasure, while the sly man just snickers and shakes his head condescendingly.

Oh, he shouldn't have done that. You'll show him…

As the man hesitates to respond, you take it as a perfect opportunity. Your hands reach for his tie, grabbing and pulling Gallagher to you. After your foreheads collide, you waste no time engaging the bartender in a kiss that's sloppy, assertive, and without a doubt, extremely passionate. The man's stubble lightly tingles your soft skin, only adding spice and thrill to your heated exchange. And even though Gallagher doesn't respond to the kiss, shocked by the situation, he certainly doesn't rush to pull away either. Of course, you wouldn't be you if you didn't use this to your advantage, pressing your lips tighter and more demandingly against his. "One more, bartender." In a casual whisper, the words drip from your lips into his. Breaking the kiss, you don't want to move an inch away from the man, demanding more and not allowing him to escape so easily.

So it was at this point that Gallagher realized he was screwed. What should he do in this case…?

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[7brownsuga7]

Can I get a Suguru or Choso x fem reader ( I can’t pick one, so your choice) based on the song Hold on Tight by Aespa

Took a while but here we are!!! I hope you enjoy :) <3

Hold on tight

Suguru Geto x fem reader

Kinktober

Word count: 2.5k +

Genre: smut drabble - minors DNI

Summary: Yours and Getos relationship is toxic and intense, but somehow you always find your way back to each other.

Warnings: toxic relations, fluff, smut, angst, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, daddy kink

It was like two worlds collided when you and Geto got together. It was something so unusual that it left both of you confused as you both were completely different, and at one point hated each other. You were, “built to be two enemies” as Geto once said, but here you both are intertwined in each others embrace.

His lips litter your naked body as your fingers play in his hair. He works his way along your collar bone, up your neck and right below your earlobe. His tongue licks the sensitive spot before he sucks on it.

Your moans fill the air, the grip on his hair tightens which causes him to chuckle and look up at you with his dark eyes.

“I’d like to keep some of my hair”

“Fuck off”

“What? It’s okay for you to pull my hair but when I pull yours when I’m fucking you from behind it’s a problem?”

You ignore his comment because you both know you love it, despite you complaining about it now and then.

“Are you gonna continue kissing me or not?” You dryly retort which earns a sly smirk from the man before you. A frown forms on your face, you already starting to miss his touch and kisses.

When he makes no move to continue, just a childish grin on his face as he admires you, even when you’re being short with him, you make it your right to turn away from him with a quick “fine”. Your bare back being the only thing he sees.

“Come on baby don’t be like that” you can still hear the smirk in his voice.

You feel him scoot closer to you, the heat from his body radiating off of him into you. You’re already hot and flustered from his previous touch, you don’t think you can survive this too.

“Hey, I was just playing” his head rests on your neck as he tries to get your attention. His long hair slightly tickling your skin. You force yourself to find interest in the white satin pillow cover instead of his hard dick pressed up against your back.

He begins to stroke your back with two fingers which send chills down your spine. His touch has and always will have an effect on you. You hate the fact that you’re so weak for him.

“Baby don’t be like that, come here” his smooth voice travels through. When you don’t respond, he pulls your body close to him with his arm, wrapping one leg around you. Your body is covered by his large frame as he cuddles you from behind. His deep breath filling your ears.

His arm that once held you close travels down to your bare thigh and lightly runs his fingers down your skin. His fingers slowly work down your thighs across to your throbbing pussy.

You’re already wet and have been aching for some attention down there despite your little dramatic performance a few minutes ago.

You push your ass more back onto his length, even though you’re already as close as you can physically get. He hisses at the sudden movement and then deeply chuckles behind you.

“This is what you wanted right?” He starts rubbing your clit after he coats his fingers with your juices.

You begin circling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers on your clit, your moans filling the room like a melody to Getos ears.

“Yeah… I thought so” he adds more pressure to your clit. Your body jerks due to the sudden roughness but eases quickly.

“Hmmm” your eyes flutter closed. They’re not closed for long when your eyes shoot open as his fingers enter your hole. You reach out in front of you in a desperate attempt to control yourself from his sudden action.

The squelching sound of his fingers mixed with your juices fill the room along with your moans and his low pleased hums now and then.

You’re a mess when he curls his fingers inside of you and increases his movement. And although his fingers are a work of art, so is his dick that you’re craving. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel the pressure of his length on your ass. Just the thought of having him inside you has you already close to your orgasm.

“I want you” you manage to say between your moans.

“Say my name”

“I want you, Suguru”

You can sense the smirk on his face.

“You’re such a whiny brat. Always wanting to get your way” his fingers slip out of you , and you don’t even need to see him to know he’s already sucking on them.

“And I always do” you knowingly smile to yourself.

You can feel him stroking his cock between your folds, coating his length with your wetness.

“Yeah…”

Your little exchange is long forgotten when his cock enters you. You try to adjust to his fullness, him not even sparing you with just his tip to ease you in.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you try to breathe through the sudden pleasure and fullness.

“What about what I want?” His voice sends chills down your spine. You turn your head to face him slightly, his dark eyes already on you.

“Hmm, and what do you want huh?”

His lips connect with your back and work their way to your shoulders as his large hands roam your body freely. His slow strokes cause you to almost lose all thoughts.

His hands are massaging your shoulders as he says, “I want you to cum around my dick. Can you do that for me baby?”

It’s as if times stopped and it’s just you and him in the world when his hand wraps around your throat and his strokes become quicker and harsher. Your back arches as his cock rams into you, no mercy shown.

“Nghh ” you choke out a moan.

No matter how many times you both fuck , it will always feel like the first time for you. It’s like your body’s running on a dream when you’re with him.

“Fuck… so good”

It’s like you’re living in a dream right now, all the nightmarish troubles your relationship has is stripped away. Your whole body is on cloud nine, along with the repetitive kisses that are littered all over your shoulder despite the roughness off his movements.

“Tell me how good it feels baby”

“So, so good” you reach for his hand that’s on your neck. Both of your bodies intertwined as his cock fills you up.

You can almost feel your orgasm approaching, the tension slowly building in the pit of your stomach.

His pace slows down becoming more intimate, as the both of you just focus on this moment and the close proximity of your body’s. His arm around your waist, holding you so tight you might as well become one.

“I love you. You know that right?” His voice travels through your body, into your heart. You nod, not being able to come up with a proper sentence, his cock doing wonders to your body.

“I-I” you moan out feeling him hit your spot. Your pussy clenches around his dick which causes him to harden his grip on your neck.

“Fuck, I love you too Suguru” you choke out, desperate for him even though he’s as close as he can get. Still it’s not enough for you.

“Tell me how much you love me baby” his lips are by your ear, his bottom lip softly brushing against your earlobe.

“I love you, I love you.” Tears form in your eyes as you can feel your orgasm approach.

“Again” he orders, his thumb stroking your jaw.

“I love you, I love you, I love y- ugh fuck”, your body jerks and pussy clenches repeatedly as you cum undone around his cock like he wished.

Your orgasm doesn’t stop Geto as he continues with his thrusts. It becomes almost to unbearable for you so you try to move your body forward to escape his reckless pace.

His arm grabs your waist tighter restricting you from moving any further. “Where are you going?”

“Please, I- I can’t” you plead.

He chuckles, “Don’t run. You wanted my cock so be a good girl and take it”. His hand that’s on your neck moves to your back as his fingers dance along the surface of your skin.

The touch from his fingers calm you down. The pleasure on your stomach gradually fades and you’re not as sensitive down there as you was before. You can tell he’s nearly close as his hips move at an intense speed and his breathing becomes more heavier. His hot breath invades your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum” he grunts.

“Cum for me baby, please” you plead.

“Fuck I love you y/n”

“I love you too.” Your words take over his body sending him into another universe as he fills you up with his load. He kisses you repeatedly along your collar bone, your body still intertwined with his as he holds you tighter than ever before.

You’ve had a lot of hardships throughout your relationship, but still managed to overcome them. Despite the obstacles, you both know your relationship is something to fight for. Even though it’s so different and intense at times, almost like a twisted fantasy.

Your relationship was something similar to an intense rollercoaster ride. You always had to make sure you were buckled up because the intensity of your relationship would sure give you whiplash if you didn’t hold on tight, because heaven knows it’s one hell of a ride.

“Fuck your pussy’s so good” his large hands are on your ass as he lifts you up and down his length with ease.

You respond with moans, you in full ecstasy as he fucks you in his car. You had missed him and his presence as you both decided to have a break due to some issues. It was hard because you were both so stubborn, but at the same time so crazy about each other. The separation didn’t last long and you soon found yourself in his car with his cock that you gratefully missed inside of you.

“I missed you so much. Do you know that?” It’s like he reads your mind. You nod understandingly because you felt the same. You plant an eager kiss to his lips, enjoying the way he feels inside you, and around you as his hands leave your ass and hold your waist.

You sit on his lap, moving your hips around. “And I’m sorry. I hate when we fight baby, I don’t want us to be like that”

“I’m sorry too” you kiss him again, wanting to forget about the argument and everything in the past that lead up to it.

“Come lay down for me” he lifts you up and back down onto the padded car seat, you chuckle as your head slightly hits the roof of the car in the process.

He enters you again in no time and you find yourself lost in everything that is you and him.

Your legs are resting on his shoulders allowing him to have full access. His hair tickles your skin with each movement, especially when he comes down to kiss you.

In the midst of your kiss does his pace quicken and you both become a panting mess. Your moans fill the car along with his grunts when he feels your fingers run along his back.

“This pussy’s mine” his hand rubs your clit which makes your legs instantly close in shock. One look in his eyes and you already know to open them again.

“This pussy’s your daddy”

“No one else’s.” It rolls off his tongue more as a statement than a question.

“No one else’s daddy fuck.” You can’t even imagine anyone else touching your body the way Geto does.

The use of the word daddy sets him on fire, his cock twitching just by hearing it. His hand finds its way to your neck, a place it usually stays during your sex. He knows how much you enjoy it.

“Say it again”

“Daddy”

Both hands around your neck as his hips move with such precision. You can feel him in your stomach, your pussy falling in love with his dick all over again.

“Tell me how much you’re sorry”

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry- I’m so sorry daddy” you rush your words as his movements become more intense. His lips find their way back to yours, kissing you with so much passion.

“I’m sorry too baby”

You both exchange apologies in between sloppy kisses. Your legs now wrapped around him and his two hands supporting him up as he continues with his thrusts.

Your legs tighten their hold around his waist when he mutters that he’s going to cum. You want to feel him cum inside of you just like he always does.

Your orgasm is also close to approaching. You can feel the pressure begin to build up. You lose it all when you both watch each other with so much lust and power. Your eyes never leaving each others as you both silently guide each other to your climax.

You’re glad you can overcome everything that comes at you two. In the end all you have to do is hold on tight.

[solohux]

The Arkanian legend of Vice General Valentine is one that Hux knows well. During a period of intense civil war that split the planet in two halves, the Vice General held secret ceremonies for lovers on opposite sides of the war who wanted to marry, to bond. He was eventually found, of course, and his treachery led to his death but the centuries old tale is honoured once a year on Valentine’s Day, a day that celebrates love in all of its forms.

When the calendar notification flashes up on his datapad, Hux scrunches his nose up in disgust. It makes him want to throw his datapad across his chambers but instead, he huffs with revulsion and sits up straighter in his bed. Ridiculous; of all the things to commend, he can hardly believe that his people would choose to honour someone who was a traitor to his own allegiance. Valentine’s Day is nothing more than a commercial trap that is set for half-witted fools who believe that they’re in the throes of infatuation, and it makes Hux sick to his stomach.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, lover.”

Hux frowns, but accepts the kiss from Kylo anyway. The Knight gives him a gentle peck on the lips before moving to kiss both of his cheeks, forehead and nose before handing a cup of Hux’s morning caf to him.

“How do you know about Valentine’s Day?” Hux asks, happily taking the beverage.

“It’s a Chandrillan tradition,” Kylo says, sitting down on the bed. He sets his hand upon Hux’s leg and rubs it absentmindedly; Hux silently admits how much these small actions of affection mean to him. “A Lieutenant of the Chandrillan army went against the orders of his superior officer to forbid her to marry someone she loved. Something about him having familial links to an enemy. But he married him anyway, and the two performed covert marriage ceremonies for people in the same situation. They eventually became The Lords Valentine. People from Chandrilla honour them once a year on Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s not the story,” Hux scoffs. “And it’s a tale from an Arkanis legend, not from Chandrilla.”

“I know my history, Hux.”

“As do I, Ren. Valentine’s Day is an annual celebration of love on Arkanis.“

“On Chandrilla too.”

The likelihood of a military man with the same name becoming involved in secret marriage ceremonies on two completely different planet seems far too impossible for Hux’s logical mind to comprehend but he sees the softness in Kylo’s eyes and decides not to challenge it any further. And then, he sees something else.

The room is covered in red roses; petals are scattered everywhere and on every surface whilst long-stemmed roses stand proudly in perfect arrangements in vases. There must be hundreds of them, all seemingly glittering in the low light of their bed chambers. The sight of them surrounding him is one of the most beautiful things that Hux has ever seen.

“Ren,” Hux sighs with a smile. “What’s this?”

“Like I said, Happy Valentine’s Day, lover,” Kylo says as a large bunch of roses float elegantly into his open hand. He holds them out to Hux, who takes them and inhales their fresh aroma.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Hux says dejectedly. “I’ve never…I’ve never had to before.”

“You’ve already given me everything I need, Hux,” Kylo says, leaning in closely until his lips are almost upon Hux’s. “You’re my air. You’re my heart. You’re my galaxy. What else could I ever need?”

Perhaps Valentine’s Day isn’t so ridiculous after all, now that he has someone to share his love with.

[shorkbrian]

Idk if you write mythical creatures, but merman baku or kiri finding an injured reader on the beach👀👀 snatching her for a mate👀👀 add a dash of breeding kink👀👀👀 just a thought.

(Glad to see you’re back☺️ I’ve missed your writing!)

Okay but what about river mermaids Kiri and Baku? Baku would have the tail of a brown trout and Kirishima a salmon!!!! They wouldn't have the typical reproductive habits of fish cause they're half human, but mmmm they'd be so pretty

You were out kayaking, having some fun with your friends, laughing and splashing each other with your paddles as you floated down the river, dappled sunlight scattered onto your skin throughout the trees.

It was an unfamiliar route, so none of you knew to expect the rapids, the broiling, thrashing water that dragged you and your friends into the water, bashing your kayaks against the rocks. The cold had you all sputtering in shock, some of you inhaling the river water as you got tossed about.

Too loud to hear over the roar of water pounding against rocks, too hard to see your friends as water filled your eyes, your nose, your ears. Too difficult to stay conscious when the river threw you against a rock, having it’s way with your limp body as it carried you further along it’s path.

Waking up hurts.

The sun is too bright, birds chirping too loud nearby, skin itchy from dried mud on your limbs. Your head is pounding, throbbing to the beat of your heart as you force open your eyes, trying to blink away the blurriness.

As your eyes take in your surroundings, your attention is immediately drawn to two men sitting on the river bank, backs turned towards you. Had they rescued you from the rapids?

The water was still frothing in the river, churning and mixing into itself with strength, pulverizing anything it caught in it’s grasp. You could’ve died, you realize, blearily watching the water rush by.

“Hey…..” You try, but the sound your throat makes is wheezy, water clawing it’s way up your throat. You barely manage to roll to your side, coughing out the liquid in a desperate hack onto the ground.

A few deep breaths until you can roll back into the more comfortable position of lying on your back.

“You alright there sweetheart?”

“Shaddup, you don’t even know her, save the shitty pet names idiot”

You raise your hand, thumbs up, towards the two men at the riverbank. Too tired to use your voice and afraid of a repeat performance of water coming out instead of words.

The men were talking between themselves, voices getting closer, along with the odd noise of a wet blanket dragging against rocks. Did they manage to snag some of your gear?

“You’re lucky that you didn’t get hurt little lady, this river isn’t too kind to those like you.” The voice was right next to you, and as you opened your eyes you were met with two vastly different expressions.

The man on your right had concern in his eyes, brows furrowed as he looked you over, gaze concentrated on your head where it must’ve hit against a rock. His complexion was ruddy, hair a shocking red, slowly drying against his shoulders. He was pretty.

The man on your left was scowling, lip curled, arms crossed. He was shirtless, you noticed - they both were. This man was an attractive blonde, hair puffy around his head like a golden halo. You didn’t know if you were shivering from the cold, or the intensity of his irritated gaze.

“Um….. do you….. did you see any of my friends?”

“Those dipshits that were with you when you hit the rapids? Yeah, they got swept downriver. “ The blonde snorted, rolling his eyes.

“W… What?” Your speech was slurred as you struggled to get your arms under you, to sit up.

“Hey hey, they’ll be alright.” The redhead soothed, broad palms on your shoulders gently pushing you back down to the earth. “Bakugou wasn’t trying to spook you. Neither of us are. You’re doing really good so far.”

You let yourself be eased back down, closing your eyes again, noticing how sticky and dry your mouth was, smacking your lips together. “Do you have…. Uh…. Water?”

“Plenty right there-Oof!” The sound of someone getting the wind thwacked from their chest, and then silence. “I mean… Yeah, I’ll grab you somethin’ to drink.” The blonde, Bakugou moved away, accompanied by that strange dragging sound again.

The redhead chuckled. “He seems grumpy, but really Bakugou is a big softie.”

“Whats… what’s your name?” You asked finally feeling oriented enough to open your eyes, blinking up slowly at the man leaning over you. It was strange to see someone brighten so visibly when you asked a question.

“Kirishima! Eijirou Kirishima.” He beamed, and immediately you recoiled.

“Your-your teeth….?” Was all you could squawk, eyes wide.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll hurt you or anything! Wanna feel ‘em?”

Before you could say anything, your hand was being dragged to his mouth, fingers stuffed inside. Kirishima lightly grazing three of your fingers with the tips of his pointed teeth, tongue flicking between the digits.

“Oi! Get her hand outta your mouth, ya’ horny fuckin’ bastard.” Bakugou yelled on his approach, and you took the momentary surprise to snatch your hand back to your chest, dripping saliva.

“Aw, we’re just gettin familiar, ain’t that right?” Kirishima smiled, and despite having your fingers in his maw mere seconds ago, you still flinched back at the sight of his sharp teeth.

“Yeah? What’s her name then?”

When Kiri fell silent, both men turned to you, question in their eyes. You mumbled your name, closing your eyes again. These guys were weird.

“I like it. Here.” Bakugou rumbled, before a flask was being pressed to your mouth, smooth hand slipping behind your head to lift it slightly, help you drink. You drank thirstily, water slipping over your lips and down your chin, onto your chest, spattering over your legs, unnecessarily cold.

Wait.

Where were your pants?

You patted your legs, flesh meeting flesh. Even your bikini bottoms were gone. How had you not noticed before?

“wghwait-“ You gurgled, pushing away Bakugou’s helping hand, eyes popping open as you sat up fully.

And then you froze.

Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t men.

Or maybe they were… but only from the waist up.

From the waist down, they had tails.

Kirishima’s looked like a salmon tail, bright red with green fins, bulky muscle visible underneath thick, flashy scales. Bakugou’s tail was yellow, brown spots dotting along it’s length, all sinewy and lean like a trout.

“What the fuck-“ You couldn’t help but scramble back, panic pitching your voice into a terrified screech

“Awh, you were doing so good at not freaking out.” Kirishima whined, planting an arm into the dirt and using it to propel himself forward, dragging the heft of his tail. That’s what that strange dragging sound had been - wet scales being dragged through the mud.

“No, no no no, this is not fucking-“

Bakugou grabbed a hold of your ankle as you tried to crabwalk backwards, away from the two…. Creatures. He had a smile on his face “I like her mouth, dirty little thing.”

You were too focused on Bakugou dragging both you and him back towards the water, towards the thrashing rapids, to notice Kirishima chuckling behind you.

“I knew I picked the right one out, all those other people looked so boring.”

“Stop! I don’t know what, or-or who you are but you gotta let me go, please, you can’t-“ They were going to eat you, tear your limbs apart piece by piece and feast on your flesh. Bakugou didn’t have razor sharp teeth like Kirishima, but you could see it now, those pearls slicing through your skin, blood gushing and turning the river red.

“We can, we will, and we want to.” Kirishima replied cheerily, dragging himself behind you now, there to grab you again if you somehow managed to wiggle out of Bakugou’s iron grip.

It was impossible, the blonde finally slipping into the river, a small, smooth area close to the bank, water still and calm next to the roar of the rapids. It was chilling, cold like the condensation on the outside of a glass of ice water in the heat of summer.

As soon as the water reached your knee, Bakugou yanking you further in, you couldn’t stop yourself, breath catching in your chest, mind screaming at you to fight.

“No!” With a last effort, you kicked out, foot connecting solidly with Bakugou’s chin, sending him into the water with a curse on his tongue and blood on his lips.

You grabbed at the mud of the bank, clawing your way up, out, away from whatever these-

“Heyyyy, that wasn’t too nice.” Kirishima’s hand snaked around your neck, the palm encircling almost the entirety of it. Barely any effort on his part and you were being pulled back down into the river, mud dirtying your skin as you squirmed and cried. “You might want to apologize-“ He sang, grinning at your gasp as you sank lower in the water.

It was too deep for you to stand, too muddy for you to see where the bottom was. The bank wasn’t close enough for you to grab onto, to leverage yourself back out.

Another hand snaked around your waist and you yelped, turning your head to find Bakugou had resurfaced, a glint in his eye and blood in his smile. “Goddamn, fiesty little bitch. She’s perfect.”

The two couldn’t help their wandering hands, squeezing and pulling at your flesh, especially interested in the parts of your body that they didn’t have - legs, tits, the folds of your cunt.

It was too much, too stressful, water getting in your mouth, being pushed and pulled as if you were caught in the rapids again.

“Kiri, hold her up, I wanna fuckin’ have a a taste.” Bakugou growled, already kissing along the nape of your neck, licking at your skin.

“No, NO, fuck…. Please!” You yelled, throwing your fists against Kirishima as the redhead manhandled you so you were supported by his body. “I don’t want this! PleASE!”

Neither of them listened.

Bakugou, now at your front, kissed down your neck, over each breast, following an imaginary trail of his own choosing down your stomach. They had inadvertently torn off your shirt while dragging you into the water, the only thing keeping you clothed.

It was laughably easy for the blonde to pry your legs apart, using his tail to swim forward until his shoulders were wedged between your knees, keeping you spread and on display.

“Stop this! Don’t-!” Kirishima’s hand slapped over your mouth, clammy skin pressed to your lips. He smelled like fish.

You couldn’t differentiate between the wet of the river and the wetness of Bakugou’s tongue as both licked up your legs, swirling against your skin in random patterns.

Feeling the rhythmic current from the beat of Kirishima’s tail behind your back reminded you of how inhuman these creatures were, how you were about to die by the hand of a myth, something unexplainable.

And then something warm and wet licked over the folds of your cunt, smooth hands grabbing at your ass to raise your hips a little higher. Bakugou was burying his face between your legs, throat rumbling in pleased moans as he tasted you with his tongue, swiping the muscle slowly to explore your lower lips.

You gasped against Kirishima’s palm, hands torn between clawing at the arms that held you hostage and pushing Bakugou’s head away. There were too many sensations, everything was too unexpected, your skin felt cold and warm at the same time. Head still aching from the concussion, dizzy and unstable.

When Bakugou circled his warm tongue around your clit, you couldn’t ’t help the electric zing that shot up your spine, arching your back and involuntarily shoving your hips against his face.

“Oh, she fuckin’ liked that, you see that shit she just did?” Bakugou pulled back just enough to gasp at Kirishima, before diving back in, tongue laving over the sensitive nub.

It was impossible to hear Kirishima’s reply, not with the blood circulating so quickly through your body. You felt his excitement on the skin of your back though, something slimy and hard, fleshy, rubbing against you.

Bakugou wasn’t finished, finding more ways to make you jolt and squirm and writhe in pleasure on his tongue. Sucking on your clit like a lollipop, leaving wet and messy kisses against your fluttering hole, teasing the tip of his tongue inside, wiggling it around and smiling when you clenched up at the intrusion.

His fingers were even worse, nimble and slender, easing inside one at a time, finding a spot inside you that made your stomach burn, hips twitching downward, unintentionally grinding on his face.

“Bakugou, I can’t hold back… lemme fuck her, please, I feel so full-“ Kiri breathed in your ear, his own hips working against your back with desperation.

“Shit, okay, I’ll hold her-“ And you were roughly passed over to the blonde, face first into his naked chest.

You couldn’t even take a breath, spare a glance backwards to see what was going to be entering you before Kirishima was pushing his way inside, cock bullying your walls with it’s width.

“Too big, ah! Ithurts!” You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you held onto Bakugou’s shoulders.

“Shhh, you can take it. You’ll look so good all round and full, gonna cum inside and make sure it takes.” Kiri babbled, his breath ghosting against your ear as he slid his cock back and forth inside you.

Bakugou pushed your hair back, smoothing out the strands so he could look at your face, red eyes narrowed and hazy with lust. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, after Kiri’s done I’m gonna knock you up too. Gonna feel so goddamn good. Just you wait.... just you wait.”

[lovelyhan]

can i request like a friend's with benefits situation with hoshi?

i haven't written for hoshi at ALL so yes, this is perfect!! <3 that, and fwb is literally my favorite trope (next to enemies/exes to lovers heh)

⟣ friends with benefits hoshi ⟢ wc: 0.9k words minors do not interact!

You've always thought Soonyoung wasn't all that different from the sun.

He's often described as this big ball of energy who can't really contain all of it inside his own body. A similar thought crossed your mind when you were paired up with him for a class during freshman year, and when you inevitably found out he was a dancer, you weren't even surprised anymore.

His performances are a good way to channel all that vigor so he won't implode because of his own liveliness. Soonyoung was ridiculously talkative on his own, but when he gets to express himself through graceful yet precise movements? It's a different kind of mesmerizing.

You didn't really think you'd get to see him again since the class you shared already concluded last semester. But after finding out that Soonyoung often goes busking in the university quad with his friends, you're loath to admit that you've become a part of their regular audience.

You thought you could just watch him snap his body to the beat of whatever song they're performing in peace like always. Not like you expected campus crush Kwon Soonyoung to remember you when you don't even take the same degree program.

But right after their mid-semester performance, Soonyoung sprints towards your retreating form, yanking your arm back with an intensity that makes you yelp in surprise.

"Hey!" He beams, loosening his grip when he's sure you're not going anywhere. "You've been coming to our performances a lot. You were my partner in Lit class, right?"

You stare at him inquisitively, wary of the odd looks being thrown your way as you and Soonyoung stand in front of the main building's entrance.

"Uh," you start, bouncing on the balls of your feet. "Yeah. I didn't think you'd remember."

Soonyoung gasps like you just made an offensive joke. "Why would I forget someone as pretty as you?"

You aren't one to keep tabs on other people you go to school with, but you know, for one, that Soonyoung doesn't have a reputation for wooing people with cheesy pick-up lines.

No, he was too wrapped up in putting together the best dance routines and choreographies his perpetually buzzing brain could come up with to even spare a thought about flirting with other people. This is something you've come to understand more and more the longer you are into your friendship with Soonyoung.

But if that's really the case...

"You're so, so pretty. Have I told you that?"

Soonyoung's breath is hot against your ear as his fingers trail up the intricate scaffold of your spine—making you shiver as he latches his lips onto the cut of your jaw.

"Only a dozen and a half times," you sigh, carding your fingers through his newly bleached hair. White suits him a bit too much, you think. "Don't you have any more compliments up your sleeve? That's kind of getting old."

His laughter vibrates against his chest as he crowds you further up the wall of the nightclub where he's decided to pounce on you tonight. This isn't the first time Soonyoung has pulled you a bit too close, giving a bit too sultry kisses for mere friends to share, but the thought still stands.

He is the sun, and you're no different from Icarus the damned.

You aren't sure what it is that's giving your head a pleasant buzz—the alcohol, the music, Soonyoung's fingers buried inside your sopping cunt, or a combination of all three.

He's always so eager, so desperate to see you crumble beneath his touch, that when he presses your foreheads together to stare at you with a look that's not so different from a man in love, you nearly fool yourself into thinking that...whatever you have with him is more than what it actually is.

"Soooo fucking pretty," Soonyoung whispers, curling his fingers in a way that has you clinging onto him like your life depended on it. "I love how wet you always are; how tight you always get for me."

"Then f-fuck me already, Soonie," you whimper, nails raking across his designer jacket as his fingers graze the sensitive patch of flesh inside you. "Not like you haven't done that here already."

Soonyoung lets out another low-pitched laugh before capturing your lips again, framing the syllables of your name with a fondness that's always been there, but one you repeatedly chose to ignore.

You're lucky enough to be tangled up with one of the hottest fucking guys in your university. You're not about to push your luck and ponder getting anything more from him.

He's always been a giver. When Soonyoung makes you cream on his fingers, all he does is lick your essence off each digit before kissing you again—pulling away before you can even offer to get on your knees for him here on the dingy floor.

"Just seeing you all wrecked for me is enough," he snickers, despite the bulge straining against his jeans. "Enjoy the rest of the night, pretty."

When he walks back into the dancefloor, he's no different from the boy that caught your attention in the quad all those years ago. Dancing and moving to the rhythm like he hasn't just thrown you off of yours when he fingered you out in the open.

No matter how many times Soonyoung calls you pretty, you can't help but think that he'll always be more worthy of the title.

But you deliberately choose not to stare at him all night like some sort of lovesick damsel. You know better than that.

Stare at the sun for too long, and you'll go blind.

⟢ end notes: hoshi as the overly attached half of the fwb set-up and reader as the in-denial half, so true <3 i like to think that he's the type to have no problem expressing these tiny notes of affection, but at the same time is kind of oblivious as to what those words/actions really entail so reader gets a bit over her head abt it sometimes. hoshi is a lil unaware like that, i'm afraid.

[bobawitch]

The Different Stage (Jack Wilder x Reader)

warnings: fluff, mentions of stripping, suggestive situations.

A/N: i was rewatching the now you see me movies and I am absolutely obsessed with Jack Wilder so I thought I’d write a fic abt it. So in this reader is a stripper, she’s not a prostitute but she pole dances at a strip club and Jack goes in with Atlas and Merritt. Jack likes her and wants to actually get to know her. that’s basically it! Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 1307

Chapter 1:

It was just another night at the club. You had to work, in fact your hours had just about doubled since your rent went up. Though that’s just how it is in New York isn’t it. Thankfully you had done your last dance for the night and were packing up to go back to your crappy apartment. You pulled your hair up into a messy bun held together by a big clip. You walked back through the drinking area, the dancer scheduled after you had already taken the stage. You looked at her, smiling at her and waving, she smiled back. All the dancers were close, you all had to be to make sure no one got in trouble with a creepy customer. You turned to resume your journey home when you knocked into someone. A smooth male voice hit your ears and you found yourself face to face with these beautiful brown eyes. “Miss?” He spoke and you realized he had definitely said something else. The other two men that were with him eyed you before shrugging and walking to a table. “Oh uh, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.” You said before moving to the side to push past him. He let you leave but watched you very closely as you did leave. Then he found his friends. Jack sat down with Atlas and Merritt, still looking back at the door you had left from. Atlas nudged Merritt with a devilish grin. “Look Jack’s got a crush!” Jack smacked Atlas’s arm, his eyes not leaving the doorway for a few more minutes. “Shut up.” Merritt and Atlas laughed before their night went on.

The next day you found yourself thinking of the man you ran into. You had never seen him around the bar before but he looked so familiar. You tried to push the beautiful stranger from your mind as you got ready for your night. You chose a fan favorite dance tonight, with the fan favorite outfit too. You didn’t enjoy your job but you were damn good at it. You walked out onto the stage after their announcement of your stage name and the music began. It was your most popular song for stage dance, So High by Doja Cat. You slowly strutted to the pole, throwing one leg around and letting yourself swing around. Your arms stabilized you on the pole and your head made a slow circle. It was the first time you actually looked at the audience and when you caught a pair of chocolate brown eyes you nearly stopped your routine. It was the man from the night before. He had come with the other two men again though one was being escorted off for a private lap dance. You let your eyes linger on him as his eyes burned your skin with intensity. You slowly dragged yourself back up the pole before moving to the side of the stage. Fingers twisting together you dropped to your knees at the beat, crawling forward before touching up your torso as the chorus began. Soon you lost yourself in the music, temporarily forgetting about the candy-eyed man. After your performance you had groundwork to do, that of course entailed a costume change and small makeup touch up. Once you changed your outfit and pulled your hair to one side you walked out. You were headed to one of the tables in your area when you were stopped. A man had walked in front of you, causing you to look up. Once more you found yourself in an intense staring match with the handsome stranger. ��Uh.. hi.” He said, obviously a bit flustered, You smirked and touched his shoulder, walking next to him. “Hello loverboy.” You replied, beginning to walk away, your finger signaling for him to follow behind you. Upon hearing his footsteps behind you, your smirk grew. You got to the bar and picked up a tray for one of the tables. The stranger finally caught up and leaned on the bar. “So what’s your name… y’know your real name?” He asked. You laughed, “I don’t give my name to customers, sorry sweetcheeks.” “Then who do you give your name to?” “Hm, let me think on that.” You winked at him before moving to the table you were to serve. You set down the drinks, chatting up the gentlemen at the table for a few moments. A few tips were made through that before you walked back to the bar, handsome stranger was waiting for you. “I’m Jack, by the way.” He said. “Alright Jack, you going to buy something or just keep talking to me?” You glanced at him, smirking again. “Hm, how much would a date cost?” His lips cracked into a smirk to rival yours. A sultry giggle escaped your lips before you shook your head. “Dunno, how much you willing to pay? And what do you want me to do for that date?” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him shake his head. You leaned against the bar now, looking at him and holding tense eye contact. His cheeks had gone a bit pink as you spoke but he composed himself as he replied. “No no, not that kind of date.” “Hm, how about I think about that? Maybe I’ll let you know at the end of my shift.” You shrugged, grabbing another drink tray before moving to deliver them. As you began to walk to the table one of Jack’s friends came over, obviously drunk as hell. “Heyy Jack! You found her! Great job!! Hey, how about I pay for a private lap dance huh?” He spoke, smirking at Jack and still blocking your path. Jack began to protest the idea of a lap dance, giving you an apologetic smile. You giggled a bit, his smile was kinda cute. But his friend had already pulled out the money and stuck it in your top string. You sighed, handing your drink tray to one of the other girls to deliver. Jack looked down at you when your hand pressed to his chest. “Well, come on loverboy, a lap dance was ordered.” You wrapped your fingers around his tie and pulled him off. “You don’t have to give me a lap dance, I’m so sorry about my friend.” He spoke in pure panic until you got to the booths for private lap dances. You turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Hesitant hands found your hips and you smiled. You leaned in, your lips almost brushing against his before turning him around and pushing him into the chair. You climbed onto his lap, your thighs trapping him beneath you. You leaned down to his ear and whispered, “If you want me to stop, just say that.” As your words left your lips you began the dance. Your hips grinded gently in a circle, your hands dragging up his chest. Jack opened then closed his mouth, his hands not knowing where to touch. You leaned forward, pulling yourself up. Your chest was at his eye level yet his eyes stuck onto yours. You brought your hands around his head, playing with his hair. You dragged his head back, leaning into his neck to whisper. “I’m Y/N. And a date sounds nice, if you still want that.” Jack’s hands finally found your waist and he sat you down on his lap, looking at you with a different kind of intensity. “When do you get off?” “11.” “Let me get you food after work.” “You have a deal Jack.” You stood back up and pushed your hand onto his shoulder. Slowly you climbed off his lap and opened the curtain. “See you at 11 Jack.” You winked and walked off before he could get another sentence in.

[coneyislandbabey]

my back is broad, but it's a-hurtin'. -> e. roundtree

WARNINGS: profanities, sexual tension lol

SYNOPSIS: The push and pull between you and Eddie Roundtree was never-ending. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, you always came back together. word count: 2,120

NOTES: this is part 2/8 of the beast of burden series. Part one can be found here!

Pittsburgh, 1969

“What do you think of her?” Warren asked. You, him, and Eddie were standing in a row against the bar of the nightclub you’d be playing a couple hours later. He was staring in the direction of the stage, where Billy stood messing around with the microphone, his new girlfriend, Camila, standing on the floor in front of him, angling her camera up to capture him in photos. 

“I like her,” you responded. She’d only been hanging around a week or two at that point, but she was kind even while being a little bossy. She had the kind of attitude a girl needed to have any kind of equal partnership with a guy like Billy Dunne, surely. 

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’ll last long,” Eddie said from your other side. That was a fair assessment. Billy had gone through quite the impressive string of girlfriends, just in the two years you’d been with the band. They stuck around for a few weeks, a month or two tops, and then they were gone, and Billy would start bringing around a new one.

“I don’t know,” you hum. “Seems like maybe it’s different this time.” You hoped it would be, at least. You really liked Camila, she got involved and tried to get to know the rest of you guys a lot more than any of the other girls Billy had brought around. She didn’t know much about the technical side of the music, but she made up for that in enthusiasm. Plus, it would be nice to have another girl around, in a more permanent sense. You’d known that rock music, and The Dunne Brothers band itself, were a real boys’ club, but man did it really fucking feel extra like a boys’ club sometimes. 

“I hope she stays. She got us that spot in the paper last week,” Warren said. That was true, too. Camila would come along to every gig and take photos the whole time, and then submit them to the local papers to try to get the band a little spot in the ink. It didn’t work, usually, but you all got lucky with the last one. It was more than surreal to see the shot of the five of you up on stage, rendered in newsprint black and white. 

Things were picking up, in a subtle way, sure, but a way none of you could ignore. You were booking more gigs, more people in the area were recognizing you. Hell, you were getting out of Pittsburgh fairly often, booking in Ocean City and Philly and Wilmington and a half dozen other places. It felt good. Really fucking good. It felt like you were proving your talent, your worth in this band, with every crowded and well-received show you performed. 

“Alright, sound check!” Billy called from the stage, gathering your attention. “We’re just gonna do one song and make sure everything is good.” 

You pushed off the bar and made your way to the stage, slinging your bass over your torso as you went. 

“Let’s do When the Sun Shines on You, yeah?” Billy asked, stepping up to the mic. You all started in on the song, and you immediately lost yourself in playing your bass. As usual, as the song progressed, you and Eddie seemed to drift nearer and nearer to each other on the stage. Your parts, musically, already played off of each other so often, so it only made sense to you that it was reflected physically. It was as if you and Eddie were playing to each other, or at each other, a frenetic conversation. During the more intense songs, you would drift so close that your hands almost bumped each other whilst playing, before you’d sweep around and head back to your side of the stage.

When the song was done and the sound was thoroughly checked, you sat your bass down and stretched your arms over your head. The guys vacated the stage quickly, but you came to sit on the edge, swinging your legs and looking out at the venue, where the employees were readying the space to open soon. Shortly after you sat down, Camila ambled over to you, her camera dangling from a strap around her neck and a sly smile on her face. 

“Hey, Camila,” you smiled, nodding at her. 

“Hey,” she said brightly. “So.” 

The way she drew out ‘so’ into three syllables was incredibly suggestive, and you only raised your eyebrow at her in question. She stepped closer, lowering her voice as if she was about to impart a secret. “What’s the deal with you and Eddie?”

For a moment, all you could do was blink at her. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “I think every stranger in this building could tell there’s something there. So, what is it? Are you guys a thing?”

You burst out into bright, sharp laughter, shaking your head. “God, no, Cami, it’s not like that at all. There’s nothing going on between me and Eddie.”

Camila weathered you with a stare, both unimpressed and unconvinced. “Right. Sure. I have never seen two people behave the way you do when there's ‘nothing going on’.”

You laughed again, deftly changing the subject to talk about her and Billy, hoping to god that your cheeks weren’t dark with blush. Were you that obvious with your crush on him? The thought was so mortifying that it made you want to die. For a while, you had managed to convince yourself that it was a minute, meaningless thing, your crush. That it had only come to be because he’d helped you learn those songs back in ‘67, helped you earn your spot in the band. You had assumed it would go away after a while, but it didn’t. All it did was grow into something more pathetic and embarrassing every time you saw him, because there was no way he was experiencing the same turmoil over your relationship, and more importantly, there was no way you could act on your feelings even if he was. 

Later, the whole group of you were hanging out in your garage, getting drunk off the cases of beers Warren bought immediately after you left the gig. You were curled up on the middle cushion of your ratty leather couch, feet tucked up underneath you and a beer nestled in your lap. Graham was on one side of you, fast asleep on the arm of the couch, his own empty beer bottle having fallen from his prone hand and rolled away. Eddie sat on the other side of you, one arm stretched on the back of the couch behind you, his thigh touching yours. Billy was drunkenly playing some old nursery song on Graham’s guitar, and Warren was loudly (and also drunkenly) cheering along with it. 

Camila, who was sitting on the rug next to Billy, caught your eye from across the room. She looked pointedly from you to Eddie and back to you, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question. You narrowed your eyes at her in return, imperceptibly shaking your head. She shot you a disbelieving look, but dropped it for the moment. 

“I’m starving,” Warren said suddenly, hand to his stomach. 

“Of course you’re starving, man, you’ve got the munchies,” Eddie laughed. 

“My stomach is eating itself,” he responded pitifully. 

You rolled your eyes at his antics, but you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. “Alright, I hear you. I’ll go get you a snack.”

“I love you more than anyone else here,” Warren said emphatically as you stood, and you just laughed at him, ruffling his hair as you passed him. 

“I’ll help you carry stuff out,” Eddie announced, getting up to follow you across the yard and to the house. 

You walked up the back steps, before stopping abruptly at the door and peering inside to see if any lights were on. Not expecting your sudden stop, Eddie walked directly into you. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, but you couldn’t help but acutely notice how close to you he stayed. 

“Okay, my whole family is asleep in there,” you said, turning around to face him. You were standing so close that your face almost met his chest before you looked up. “That means we have to be absolutely silent on this mission.”

“Mission?” he asked, amused. 

“Yes. The very important mission of providing famine relief to the dying Warren Rojas,” you nodded solemnly. 

“If you want me to be quiet, you have to stop being funny.”

“I can’t help my charisma, you’ll just have to be strong, Eddie boy,” you responded, and he nodded seriously, doing his best to keep a straight face. In your drunken state, you fumbled with the knob of the door trying to get in, and cursed yourself for the noise. Your parents knew about the band by now, obviously, and being as you were an adult at this point, it was not like they could stop you from being in the band even if they wanted to. However, you weren’t exactly of age quite yet, and if they found you standing in the kitchen, drunk and with a boy they weren’t fond of at that, you’d have hell to pay.  

Finally, you managed the knob and swung the door open slowly. You turned to Eddie and pointed to the pantry, mouthing the word ‘chips’ to him. He nodded, tip-toeing his way over in exaggerated movements that made you want to fall to the floor with laughter. Instead, you turned your back to him and headed toward the fridge, intent on grabbing some of the water bottles that your parents kept on top of it. You were able to reach one, but the rest had been pushed further back by someone, and your fingertips could only brush the plastic, not grasp them. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, and you turned to see Eddie watching you struggle. 

“Let me help,” he whispered, stepping forward and reaching above your head. His free hand went to your waist to balance himself as the other grabbed enough bottles for the group, passing them down to you one by one. You did your best to ignore his hand, to ignore the way it set every single nerve ending of yours on fire. When he was done grabbing water bottles, you turned around to go, but Eddie didn’t move. Moments passed, and the two of you stood there facing each other in the dark of the kitchen. Dimly, you were aware that Eddie’s hand was still on your waist. It would be so easy, you thought, to cross the mere inches between you and just kiss him the way you’d imagined doing dozens of times before. It would be so easy to just drop all of the water bottles on the floor and grasp his face instead, so easy to– 

But no. The only thing that could come out of you making a move on Eddie or him making a move on you would be teasing from the rest of the band, probably even them suspecting that the only reason Eddie suggested you for bassist way back when was because he had a thing for you, not because you were talented. But you were talented. That was why you got the spot in the band. It didn’t matter how true that was, though; the minute you became anything other than one of the guys here, your very integrity would be questioned. 

You stepped backward until your back was against the fridge, putting some space between the two of you. Eddie cleared his throat, the sound impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet room, and stepped back as well. This had been your dance for the last two years; get close, closer than close, tip-toe right up to the edge until all there was to do was take the leap or fall backwards. Every time, for one fleeting moment, you thought you’d finally decide to take the leap, but you never did. And neither did he. So, the dance continued. 

“Let’s get out of here before my parents wake up,” you said, and Eddie nodded, turning around to lead you back to the kitchen door. When you got back to the garage, the two of you distributed chips and water, before sitting back down on the couch. Eddie’s arm stretched back out along the back of the couch, your thighs touching. Just like you had been before. Just like nothing at all had changed. Because nothing had, had it? Nothing ever did. You couldn’t decide if that thought was a relief, or a thorn digging ever deeper under your skin.

tag list: @eonnyx @celestialstar111 @whataloadofmalarkey @sapphiclm

[lovehyyuntold]

— Tour De Force 🤎

— An impressive performance or achievement that has been accomplished or managed with great skill.

– also known as, a masterpiece.

Rundown: a sweet telling of an artist falling in love with his muse, where monochrome ruled his world until your hues brought him to life.

Pairing: artist!hyunjin x reader

Word Count: about 800

Genre: contemporary romance / suggestive !

Warnings: very much in the feels, mentions of physical affection: kissing, hugging, teasing.

Date Created: 11/8/2021

A/N: Hello, and thank you for deciding to stop by to give this story, a shot—it'll be the first fic, I post on this account. I wrote this a long time ago for self-indulgence with my own character in mind, very much un-edited, but I had thought that Hyunjin fitted him more, so here we are. I find most of this to be slightly cringe as it was a spontaneous little thing.

— It would be the biggest honor if you could reblog & comment. Share your thoughts, I genuinely love discussion.

Once again, thank you ♡

When Hyunjin gazes at you, all he sees is a masterpiece.

His studio was filled to the brim with art supplies; all scattered into a small space. Paint splatters on the ground, across the walls, even on the windows itself—brushes rolling on the ground, sketchbooks stacked on the table; his pencils were neatly placed together into one container. Crayons, markers, easels; all in one spot on the ground. Yet somehow, everything was everywhere. One would call this place a mess. You wouldn’t blame them, as it seemed to be exceptionally organized…in his own way—which was most definitely a stretch, seeing as things were verbatim, all over the place. His mind worked in wondrous ways, it became a mystery. 

You admired the quality of his passion, the way his eyes crinkled in concentration as he worked on his next artistry. He wouldn’t ever show you his works in progress nor the result, so it made you ponder on the thought; what was he hiding?

Hyunjin closed his eyes, imagining you. Everything about you, he thought of; your smile, your actions, your words, your lingering touches, soft kisses setting him ablaze, sweet profound words you spoke of when you were with him. He was grateful to have met you, gazing towards the empty sidewalk—lost of all inspiration as he clasped onto his empty sketchbook, pencil in his hand. Time seemed to slow down when you walked in. The glimpse of you that he saw, something about the way you lifted your lips—curving it and grinning, made him hungover at the glow you held, the thought of you.

All was black and white till he saw you.

“Hyun, can I see now?” You whined as you sat on his couch, pouting at him as you stared at the back of his easel.

He could only smile as he peeked over because you shouldn’t see it yet. 

His masterpiece, his muse, you.

“Patience, my love.” He giggles, his eyes turning into crescents as he points his paintbrush at you before continuing on, “Good things come to those who wait.”

Furrowing your brows, you rolled your eyes—crossing your arms at his antics. But it immediately softened at the view of him. Sunset-colored hair gleaming with a softness as his lips pursed; mesmerized at his own work. Hand gliding across the easel—trickles of sweat gliding down his forehead. You never understood why he sweated when he painted, it was as if he was too indulged to even realize the heat in the room. Nevertheless, he was beautiful, this man was yours and you were his. 

“Angel, would you be so kind as to-”

He looked up, meeting your gaze. He wasn't expecting your intense look. Once soft eyes that stared at him with pure love and affection had fire ablaze beneath them as if something had ticked inside you. He was intimidated, to say the least. All he wanted was for you to look at him, so he could scan your features properly. But you had different plans.

“Careful, wouldn't want bugs to fly in that mouth of yours.” You smirked, ego blossoming at the sight of his mouth slightly agape. His pupils widened, and he quickly squinted his eyes, a smirk making its way across his lips. You were such a tease and he loved it.

“You want to go there, darling?” His voice deepens, causing you to cover your mouth. Cowering behind the couch, you laughed—hugging the pillow that was beside you. Sometimes he challenged your little tomfoolery, yet it always left you a flustered mess.

After taking a few minutes to process what he did, you peeked over the couch, but you couldn’t see anyone. You gasped, he was gone. Proof of his painted apron sat on the high stool, but his figure wasn’t there. Panicking, you turned your body around—causing your eyes to meet his again.  You could feel your nose brushing gently against his, lips grazing over yours, breath lingering on each other.

You were close, way too close.

He smiled, staring into your brown ones as the light glimmered onto his. Closing the space, he lifted you from your seat—hugging your waist until he crashed onto you with a searing kiss. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your eyes closed slowly. Placing your arms around his neck, he gently guides your waist towards him, to close the space even further. The moment was sweet and gentle, as if you were a fragile feather, and he was the wind guiding you by.

Art wasn’t about the final result, nor was it about the actual drawing itself; it was a form of communication. The passion that someone held within them, an expression that one holds. A feeling prolonged onto one’s thoughts and mind. To him, you were his inspiration to create his artistry, and he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

A masterpiece amongst the dullest of moments.

© lovehyyuntold 2023

[aclowntiny]

Hi! I'm here 'cause i love your work so much, you really got my attention UwU

I wonder if you could do how ateez or svt act with an s/o with the same heigth or taller than them. That is my insecurity around boys tbh. Thank you if you read this, ily 🥺 💖 (English isn't my first language, sorry for the grammar)

AHHH OMG YOU’RE SO SWEET!!! I love *you* 🫶🏻 we stan a tall queen, I know 2 lovely 6ft gals, one married a 6’6 guy & the other is in a very committed relationship to a 5’5 (woozi height 😌) short king 👑 we love to see it! I’m sure any short average or tall guy would be lucky to have you 🥰

Ateez With a Tall S/O

Hongjoong

Ok, you know this man is gonna want to dress you up. You just have a great frame for modeling no matter what your style, because of course Hongjoong respects that. Whether you prefer more masculine or feminine looks, both look great on a tall person! If you’re taller than him, he’ll probably be a bit shy about it especially if you’re a tall queen! Don’t tease him and call him short though he doesn’t like it >:( he lowkey wishes he were taller so he can do more protective-looking things, but his personality definitely still shines through without the necessity of height. If you’re his height or really close to it, get ready for the most intense eye contact of your life and the best pictures of you two looking into each other’s eyes!

Seonghwa

In awe of you honestly. You know that look he gets of complete wonder, stars sparkling in his eyes as he smiles? That’s all for you, baby! Especially if you show off, totally work an outfit, or perform some dance moves he’s just like whooooaaaaa even if it was a small thing. Seonghwa’s favorite is to hold you close at his side and having you so near smooch distance is a big bonus! Your height doesn’t make him feel insecure at all, if anything he is reassuring you all the time how unique and amazing you are, whether it’s that or all the other things he loves about you. Having a taller significant other makes cuddling that much better to Seonghwa so he can hold you facing him that much more easily!

Yunho

He probably feels like you guys have natural common ground because both of you are tall. May make jokes or conversation about it to bond with you unless you really hate that. If you hate your height, he’ll just nod and get really understanding because while he’s at peace with being tall, Yunho can understand that it gets you attention. Just because it doesn’t bother him doesn’t mean he can’t empathize! Honestly, having a taller significant other that’s his height or near it is great in Yunho’s mind because it makes it easier to dance with you, which is one of his favorite things to do as a couple. It’s less awkward than if he’s towering over you or moving you too forcefully because he’s so much larger…not to mention the eye contact is very romantic!!!

Yeosang

Is surprised if you’re taller than him, if you’re just close to his height it’s probably not enough to register in his mind. Like ok cool, yeah you’re near eye level, that’s nice. But if you stand above him he will loom at you like :o . He sort of likes the idea of being the taller one in the relationship, but such a small thing would never be a deal breaker! Plus it ends up coming in handy and he sees it differently when you guys basically end up as that meme of Kevin Hart and the lady lol. You protect Yeosang, not that he can’t do it himself but you stand up for your innocent boyfriend and the way his heart beats has him forgetting why he ever wanted to be the tall one in the first place. He’ll definitely want to protect you in turn, pulling you to the half of the sidewalk away from the road and doing as many little things as possible for you!

San

Listens to you vent so well, so if you ever tell him you hate being tall he’ll nod so intently, eyes getting sad as you talk before taking both of your hands in his when you finish. He’ll tell you he thinks you’re beautiful and amazing just how you are and not to listen to those people no matter how hard it is to tune them out. Instead of focusing on your height he’ll compliment every single other thing he loves, like your face when you see your favorite things or how he felt when he met you. Conversely, if you love being tall, he’ll hype you up to oblivion about it, cheering you on and telling you how you’re working it even if you’re wearing the plainest outfit hehe. San’s your little spoon and your big spoon, the one you pulls you into his chest even if you’re taller and he’ll love it if you do the same. Basically he’s used to being the taller/same height one, so he’ll want to try every cuddle and hugging position possible with you!

Mingi

Lowkey loves that you’re tall too because he’s a big baby and it’s less overpowering when he falls on top of you laughing or cuddling, lol! Honestly, Mingi is another one that just thinks you’re so cool for being tall, probably oohing and ahhing at small things you do like reaching things or if you’re strong, too. Having a tall significant other feels like having a playmate to him, but he also loves that you’re that much closer to yank in for a kiss or just the feeling of you pressed up against him, your head close to his- it’s cute but can also be kinda hot. He teases you for being tall as if he isn’t too, unless of course you don’t like hearing commenting about your height! Endearing as heck forehead bonks ensue while Mingi’s either thinking really hard or in zero thoughts head empty mode. He jokes about absorbing your thoughts when he does it!

Wooyoung

Immediately puts his foot in his mouth and goes “Whoa how tall are you?” lmao but he really doesn’t mean it badly he’s just very social and teasing. So if you’re a fair bit taller than him he may make jokes like ‘what’s it like up there’ type of stuff… unless you tell him please don’t, of course. It’s not at all a bad thing to Wooyoung though, in fact he finds someone who can tower over him very appealing honestly! Also will probably ask if you can pick him up just for funsies hehe~ Because he loves to cuddle so much, Wooyoung will want you to be big spoon a lot of the time, probably an alternating spoon schedule lol. He would absolutely adore it if you guys danced and you dipped him, like man would be S W O O N I N G so please do it!!! You’ll get to see him grin for the next hour plus. Have fun in general tall queen/king/monarch because now you have Wooyoung as a backpack for life, good luck getting him to let go of you.

Jongho

Another one who, if you asked him, would prefer to be the taller one, but again not a deal breaker because he’s not that shallow. He’ll be extra proud to be able to lift you up if you’re a lot taller than him, hoisting you onto his shoulders with the most triumphant look! Jongho also really enjoys resting his head on your shoulder, whether your height difference is big enough for him to do it while you’re standing or he just does it while you’re sitting. It’s a small affectionate gesture he enjoys, same with loose hugs from behind, which again he might prefer from you if you’re tall enough! If not, that’s his job congrats. He isn’t much of a cheek kisser, but will do it sometimes because your cheek is so close, it’s just right there!!!

[intheticklecloset]

Tickling on Ice (Yuri on Ice)

Summary: After practicing his latest routine, Yuri finds himself out of breath for several different reasons.

A/N: HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY, @dokidoki-muffin!! Since you left your wish pretty open-ended, I decided to take inspiration from this fabulous art and write a fic for it! You did tell us we were free to speculate, after all! I hope you enjoy it! ^^

And yes I'm aware this title is incredibly lame but it made me laugh and I couldn't be bothered to come up with something better so lame it shall stay lol

Word Count: 1,145

~~~

Yuri Plisetsky was gasping for air.

The performance was over; he’d held his final pose the required amount of time. He was done, and that meant he could finally breathe. This routine was by far the hardest he’d ever performed to date. It was spectacular, but it took a lot out of him.

He propped himself up on his elbows, the cold of the ice burning his skin. From across the rink, another figure glided over to join him.

For a moment Yuri forgot how out of breath he was. If anything, seeing Otabek Altin only took his breath away again. He could hardly believe he’d just done what he’d done – having his friend help him with his routine by first catching the pink jacket he discarded early on and then by ripping his glove off his hand with his teeth.

Yuri tried not to blush as he got to his feet.

“Well done,” Otabek congratulated, nodding his approval. “That was the smoothest practice yet.”

“I still have some things to work on,” Yuri replied, eyes darting to the fingerless gloves the taller man offered him. He took them and stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Yes, but you have time for that.” Otabek scanned him briefly. “Not too cold?”

“Please,” the Russian scoffed, though he was pretty certain he was incapable of feeling anything other than an intense warmth when standing so close to his friend. Yes, just a friend. “If a little ice is enough to make me shiver then I’m clearly in the wrong profession.”

The Kazakhstani smirked. “Hmm. I have to admit, I’m impressed with how bold this routine is, even for you.”

“Bold? You think this is…” Yuri’s comeback trailed off when Otabek got right up into his personal space. He forgot what words even were for a moment. “…bold?”

“Yes.”

“Y-You…you don’t have to bite the glove off if you don’t want to—”

“I do.” Otabek leaned down to touch their foreheads together, a clear invitation, a clear question. “That blush looks good on you, by the way.”

“Wha?” Yuri yelped when his feet were suddenly not holding him up anymore, his skates sliding across the ice when Otabek swept his own beneath them. The blonde frantically reached up to grab him for stability, and the next thing he knew he was being suspended in the air, kept aloft only by the darker man’s hands on his hips and Yuri’s fists clenched in his black leather jacket. “What – what are you doing?!”

“I would like to kiss you, Yuri,” Otabek murmured. “Please tell me I can.”

Yuri shivered, eyes wide, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Suddenly, having the Kazakhstani bite his glove off his hand no longer seemed like the boldest move they’d made recently. His kiss was gentle but passionate, making Yuri see stars behind his eyes, and he didn’t protest in the slightest when he realized he was being pushed back down onto the ice, the cold against his bare back contrasting sharply with the warmth of the man above him.

Okay, so maybe he was more than just a friend. And maybe Yuri was completely fine with that.

Hands began to wander, Otabek’s fingers brushing gently over skin as he slipped under his shirt, and Yuri shivered again, inhaling sharply, tensing up.

Otabek broke their connection and met his eyes, a playful sparkle in them that made the blonde nervous. “Oh?”

“No,” Yuri said immediately, but it was useless. Fingernails scraped gently against his sides, making him squirm. “No, don’t do that!”

“Are you ticklish?”

“I’m – no! Nonono! I mean—” He tried again. “Please don’t, I’m…I’m really t-tihiheahahahahaha! Wahahahahait!”

Otabek chuckled, scribbling all over his lower torso, and Yuri squeaked and squirmed and tried to push him away, but it was all for naught. The older man was also much, much stronger, and the Russian felt a chill shoot through him from more than just the ice when he realized how stuck he was like this.

“Plehehease, I’m really tihihihihicklish! Dohohohohohon’t! Otahahahahahaha!”

In a sudden flurry of movement, Otabek pushed Yuri’s hands above his head, pinning one with his left arm and maneuvering the other into his left hand, freeing up his right to wiggle under the smaller man’s shirt and tickle freely. Yuri jerked beneath him, still stubbornly holding back his laughter despite how red he was getting from the effort.

The Kazakhstani carefully lifted his leg to half-straddle the blonde, pinning his hips in place, and that was when the dam finally broke.

“Plehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahaha nohohohohohohoooo! Otahahahahahaha!” Yuri giggled helplessly, blushing furiously under the other man’s kind, intense gaze. “Dohohohohon’t! Lehehehehet me up! Dohohohohon’t tickle – EEEK!! Nononono not thehehehere, not there!”

“No?” Otabek teased, dragging his fingers up and down the grooves of his ribcage like he was playing a xylophone. “Not your ribs?”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Yuri pleaded as he tossed his head back and burst into shrieking laughter, trying desperately to move any part of his body, bring his arm down, anything. None of it did any good, though, and that only made it tickle worse. “NAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!! PLEASE, BEHEHEHEHEHEKA!!”

For a moment the darker man slowed to a stop, allowing Yuri to gasp for breath a second time that day, and their eyes met for a long, quiet, intimate moment.

“Beka?” Otabek murmured.

Yuri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to call him that; in his ticklish haze he hadn’t been thinking clearly and it just slipped out. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Say it again.”

“W-What?”

Otabek began tracing his ribs with his fingers. “Call me that again.”

“Eeep! Okahahay, okay! Beheheheheka!” Yuri squealed, giggles spilling out of him uncontrollably at the gentle touch.

“I like that,” the Kazakhstani said in a near whisper, leaning down to kiss him again, still tickling softly.

Yuri whined, still snickering at the light, teasing touches along his body. Between the playful tickling and the way Otabek was looming over him and pinning him down, the blonde was suddenly beginning to feel all kinds of different ways about the turn this skating practice had taken.

“All right,” Otabek said after another minute, slowing his teasing fingers to a stop and beginning to sit up, releasing Yuri’s arms as he did so. “You’re going to freeze if you keep lying here—”

“Wait,” Yuri protested breathlessly, wrapping his arms around his neck to keep him from moving away, tugging him back down on top of him. He swallowed nervously, blushing and averting his eyes as he muttered, “You can keep going.”

“Oh yeah?” Otabek chuckled again, bracing himself with his arms on either side of Yuri, one hand moving back down to scratch at his belly and sides. Yuri broke into another round of giggles, and the taller man crushed their lips together once more.

Yuri Plisetsky was gasping for air again before he knew it.

[dontfeeltoohot]

While I was writing this, I realized if we’re going off of ‘Barbie lore’ (which sounds so weird) there is a book where someone gets sick, so technically this fic wouldn’t be true. But. I’m going off of what’s been said in the movie, and ignoring the books since they’re portrayed as regular humans on earth there. 

So have some clueless, helpless Ken. He's different than most characters I've written for, so hopefully I did him justice. Enjoy.

Warnings: slight mess

XXX

He brings a lot home with him to Barbie Land from earth. Knowledge of patriarchy and horses, of how men are treated by women. Ken also, unknowingly, brings germs to their perfect land that hasn’t experienced them before. He’s been around thousands of new people- hundreds during his brief time trying to convince the doctors to let him perform an appendectomy in a hospital. Sure, Barbie Land is pretty perfect, but germs? That’s new. It’s not as if they don’t all know what germs are, but when someone gets sick, it’s a quick, almost instantaneous fix. As it seems, human germs are not like the germs here. 

When the blonde wakes up in his small, ordinary house; nothing like Barbie’s, he feels…bad? Not the bad he feels when Barbie doesn’t talk to him, and not the kind of bad like when Ken (two) had beaten him in the beach-off. No, he feels bad like his throat hurts and he’s still tired even after sleeping. He can’t breathe through his nose, and oh god, is he dying? He doesn’t want to die! With his thoughts racing, he scrambles out of bed, ready to go find Barbie to ask what’s happening to him, but an intense head rush washes over him and his limbs feel weirdly weak. 

“Okay, you can do this, just-“ he breaks off, nose scrunching up involuntarily. 

An intense tickle is winding its way through his stuffed sinuses, making his hand go to his nose, rubbing it with his palm, trying to make it go away. It’s no use, and by the time it’s reached his nose, the man is standing frozen with his eyes fluttering, nostrils flaring. 

“hhh-EHtschhuh!” He shakes his head much like a dog, takes a step forward and then- “heHHTSCHuh! SNF!” 

The sniffle is wet and thick, and it makes him cough as the mess is met with already blocked sinuses. Letting out a tired sigh, Ken rubs his face and tries to calm himself down. Is he malfunctioning? Is he going to have to go back to earth? Heart rate picking back up, he finds a soft white shirt and yanks it on, nose runny and itchy and feeling entirely too sensitive. He rubs a knuckle into the side of it as he brushes his hair, still wanting to look good for the woman he’s about to set off for. They are boyfriend-girlfriend after all. 

Or, they were. Her explanation of him needing to figure out who he was wasn’t exactly his favorite, and he’s hoping she’s forgotten about it by now. He needs her. She’s Barbie, and he’s Ken. There is no just Ken. He’s bound to her, right? Swallowing down that fear and wincing when the action hurts, he shivers slightly and picks up his plain blue sweatshirt, zipping it up on his way down and out of the house. 

Walking down the perfectly straight sidewalk, Ken waves half heartedly at the people who greet him, too tired to be as enthusiastic as he usually is. It must be noticeable enough though, because Veterinarian Barbie frowns as she makes her way down the same sidewalk. 

“Hey Ken! Are you okay? You look..” she bites her lip and he knows she’s trying not to say something rude. 

“I’m fine,” he assures, waving it off, no way he’s letting anyone know he’s malfunctioning. “I gotta go see Barbie, but I’ll catch you later.” 

He hears himself as he talks, cringing at how different his voice is, like he’s pinching his nose shut. Forcing himself to move quickly, he finds the bright pink dream house and knocks on the already half opened wall, not wanting to intrude. (He wishes he could intrude, wishes he could go in and hold her close, maybe even give her a kiss). 

“Oh, hey Ken!” 

The sweet, beautiful voice rings out and he’s snapped out of his thoughts. 

“Barbie! Hey, I need to talk to you…inside.” 

“Oh, uh,” she frowns. “Okay, come on-“ 

Ken pushes past her and rubs at his nose, already feeling another tickle. He tries to concentrate on the woman in front of him, scrunching his nose up in hopes to hold off what he knows is going to happen. 

“How did you know you were malfunctioning?” 

The words come out quick and his voice quivers slightly. The long haired blonde in front of him takes a small step forward, worry passing over her features. 

“I, I could just feel it. I felt different. Are you okay? What’s going on, do you think you’re malfunctioning?” 

As Ken goes to explain what’s been happening, the tickle makes him stop and he tilts his head back slightly, the feeling overwhelming. 

“huhIKSHHHuh! SNGF! Ohh…ehUITSCHH’uhew! That felt g-good-snfSNF!” 

The man barely notices Barbie jump at the uncovered noise, he barely even turns away from her, moving just enough to mist the air to his left instead of directly onto her. 

“This keeps happening! And I hurt? I think I’m dying Barbie, I feel really bad. My throat? It hurts, and I feel like I need to sleep even though I just slept. I can’t breathe either,” he sniffles for effect, nostrils twitching as mess that’s been clinging to them gets pulled back up. “There’s this feel-SNF! Feeling that..hh-! that’s in my head..like someone’s tickling it? I d-dohn’t..HuhEXTSHhuh! The tickle keeps m-making me..do..thiiihh-KTSCH’uhEW! this..” 

By the end of his explanation he’s exhausted, his nose is running everywhere, his throat’s burning, and he only half means to stumble into Barbie, resting his forehead against her shoulder. 

“I don’t want to die, Barbie.” 

She wraps an arm around him and he leans a little more against her. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t play up when he’s injured sometimes, but this is a whole different ball game. He really feels bad, and he doesn’t know what to do, and god he wants to lay down. Pulling back, he notices a small wet spot from where his nose had been pressed into her pretty dress. Oops. 

“You’re not going to die Ken, okay? Not while I’m here.” She squeezes his own shoulder and he feels electrified. “Now, you probably should sit down or-“ 

“Can I lay on your bed?” His mind flashes back to when he was crying on it not even two weeks ago. 

“Of course.” She says it with no hesitation, and if he had more energy he’d be grinning and teasing her. 

Sniffling as he’s led to her large, velvet pink seashell-backed bed, Ken coughs and wipes his nose with his shirt sleeve, frowning at the mess that’s put there. Gross. 

“Here, lay down and stay there. I should see if Doctor Barbie knows what to do-“ 

“No! I don’t want her to know I’m malfunctioning!” Another sniffle makes Ken groan and huff. 

“If you are malfunctioning, you’re not going to get better. You don’t want to be like this forever do you?” 

“No way, but can’t you just stay for a little bit? I might be dying, the least you can do is lay next to me. We can tahhlk,” he rubs his nose against his palm, nostrils twitching. “Please?” 

“Fine, but only for a little while. And then I’m finding Barbie and we’ll figure this out. You look bad, Ken.” 

The words sting, but he ignores them only half on purpose. The other half of him is too concentrated on the itchy feeling that’s back in his head again. It feels so good to get it out, so he waits, slack jawed with shut eyes as the feeling crests. 

“UHKTSCHHuh! Snfsnf! God, it juhhst- Barbie…” his defined nostril twitch into almost perfectly round circles, unused to the sensitivity. “ehhuISTCHuh! SNGFF!” 

He mists the air as he gets into the woman’s bed, mess running down his cupids bow and almost onto his lip, sniffles not doing much to help. His eyes flutter open when something moves against his face- Barbie has a washcloth pressed against his nose, wiping away any mess that’s been produced. 

“Thank you Barbie,” Ken’s surprised but grateful. “That’s really nice of you.” 

“It was kind of gross, and it seemed like you needed help,” she laughs quietly, making him go red. 

“I really think I should go find doctor Barbie.”

“Just a few minutes, okay? Then you can go find her.” 

TBC?