#you're right the outfit and curls are really going hard

[burstingsunrise]

Spread legs Luke is really a sight to behold😍 His outfit, smile, lil stretch, curls.. (and when he puts his hands on his lap and bounces them off his d*ck🫠)

asjdfljdsf YES you get it!!

he's being so cute and sweet and beautiful and doing the eye rub laugh and talking about his reflective songs in the sunshine and it's very 🥺🥰🤩

...but then he also does that stretch to display his body and tempt us with a little bit of neck and armpit, and of course the cherry on top - adjusting his jacket, spreading his legs wide, and basically using his hands as a bullseye pointing to his dick. thanks luke! would've been thinking about it with or without your guidance but i appreciate the encouragement! i can't even talk about the bounce on main or things will get out of hand.

[grandprixwinnerlandonorris]

The Interview | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader

Warnings: smut

Requested: yes

A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3

Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.

Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.

As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.

“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"

"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.

His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.

"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"

Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.

"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.

Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.

Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"

For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.

You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"

“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”

“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."

Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.

“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.

Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.

You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.

“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.

You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.

You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.

The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.

Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.

"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.

"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”

As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.

You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.

The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.

“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”

"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.

You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.

Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.

Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.

“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.

“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.

Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.

“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”

His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.

Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.

Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”

Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.

“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.

“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”

“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.

“I was getting myself comfortable—”

“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”

His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.

In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.

Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.

“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.

You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.

“Then kiss me,” you breathed.

Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.

He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.

His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.

Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.

He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.

You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.

He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.

You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.

You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.

He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.

He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.

Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"

“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.

You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.

Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.

“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.

Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.

“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.

You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.

Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless. 

You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.

You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.

You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.

As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.

With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.

[joelscruff]

ummm hi this is so random i just needed to tell someone about this cause no one i know likes pedro

so i was watching s1 narcos and javi was wearing this fkn white half sleeved shirt and they knew what they were fucking doing and i’m dying he’s so fkn hot what do i do!!, if i was interning for him and he walked in the room wearing that oh my fkn god i would be dead sorry for this rant

soaked (javier peña x f!reader) 18+

so as usual what was meant to be a little drabble became a full-fledged fic. what is wrong with me????? this outfit is truly insane though and i couldn't stop thinking about it getting wet 👀 i hope you enjoy xo (and thank you anon for the inspo and for telling me what episode this lovely shirt was in!) summary: it's hard being an intern for a man who won't even look at you, but maybe there's something else to it that you don't see. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: smut, blowjobs, deepthroating, protected p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink (javi has a big dick), biting, probably bad spanish (blame google) word count: 6k (this was supposed to be a drabble!!!!!!! wtf!!!!!!!!) ao3

You're pretty sure you're going to quit your job.

You've been an intern at the DEA for about a month now, in charge of extremely mundane things like pouring coffee and organizing paperwork. No one really talks to you other than Steve Murphy, one of the agents you're assigned to, and even then he's too busy to really give you much attention. It's lonely and boring, and part of you thinks you might have quit already, if it wasn't for...

"Morning, asshole," Javier Peña enters the office with long strides, tossing a stack of papers toward your (very tiny) desk. You can't help but stare at him, swallowing nervously as you assess the plain white shirt he's wearing, loosely tucked into his tight jeans and accentuating his strong, tan arms. How does he always look so good? His hair is messy, brown curls tangled and sticking up in places like he's just rolled out of bed, and he probably has. The faint scent of whisky that follows him tells you all you need to know about how he spent his evening.

You're worried for only half a second that he's talking to you, but you realize his gaze is directed toward Steve, who simply shrugs.

"You didn't have to come," he replies with a laugh, "You coulda said no."

"To your fucking wife? Please." Javier sits down in his chair with force, leaning back to immediately put his long legs up on his desk and reach for a cigarette from his pocket, "She was excited about it, you dick."

Steve just laughs again, turning back to his work, "You did the right thing, man. I don't know what else to say."

You wish you understood the story, knew what they were playfully ribbing each other about, but for the past month you've been on the outside of their relationship. Steve gives you reassuring smiles and some small talk every now and then but it's not enough to feel like you actually belong there, not to mention that Javier has only spoken to you once. Even now, as you rise from your chair to pour some fresh coffee into his mug, he doesn't even look at you.

"You owe me," he says to Steve, lighting up his cig, "Pendejo."

As you pour his coffee you can't help but notice the way the collar of his shirt rides low enough for you to see his collarbones, see the light dusting of hair smattered across his dark skin. There's a few droplets of sweat here and there, and you resist the urge to lean forward and press your tongue to each one.

"I'll have some more too, sweetheart," Steve says behind you, and your thoughts scatter as you pull back from Javier's mug to go re-fill Steve's. You're aware of the way Steve's eyes trail to your breasts, hidden only by a thin layer of blue fabric; it makes you self conscious and also a bit confused. Steve has never looked at you that way before, "That's a nice blouse," he says to you with a smile, eyes going back up to your face, "My wife has one similar to that."

"Thank you," you say quietly, finishing filling up his mug and wanting to go back over to your desk as soon as possible; you don't like the idea of a married man ogling you.

"Isn't this a nice blouse, Javi?" Steve continues, and you freeze.

What is Steve doing? Is he trying to get you insulted? You turn slightly to look at Javier, coffee pot trembling slightly in your hand when you see that he's got an irritated expression painting his face, mouth downturned in a stern frown.

"Thin ice, Steve," Javier replies and takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes set firmly on Steve's face, not even bothering to even look at the blouse in question.

"What? It's nice," Steve seems to be feigning innocence, yet again another inside joke you're not apart of. Except this time it's at your expense and you're not sure how that makes you feel. Suddenly Steve reaches up and takes a ruffle of your blouse near your arm between his fingers, "Really soft, too."

"Steve," Javier repeats, eyes dark, "Thin. Ice."

You look from Javier to Steve and back to Javier, absolutely bewildered. It's like things are being said but you can't hear them, have no idea what kind of secret language they're speaking. You pull away from Steve a bit, feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna go put this back," you say quietly, referring to the coffee pot.

"Of course, sweetheart, I won't keep you," Steve gives you a wink and you know something is off. From what you've gathered so far from your time here, Steve loves his wife, has a picture of her on his desk right in front of him that you always catch him looking at. You've only been here a month but you swear he's mentioned her every single day, if not to you then to Javier, if not to Javier then to another intern or agent. So why is he suddenly being flirtatious with you?

You leave the room and return the coffee pot, staring at the aged tiles on the wall in front of you and feeling a lump form in your throat. You really do hate it here, you don't know why you've stayed as long as you have.

Yes you do, you idiot.

--

It's raining outside by the time your work day ends and you feel yourself deflate as you walk out the front doors of the DEA; you'd been hoping for the hot weather to continue so you could go for a run and distract yourself from this weird and uncomfortable day, decide whether or not you're going to just quit already. It's like the heavy rainfall is mocking you.

You feel much too depressed to walk home so you go back inside the building and make your way back to the office to call a taxi. Steve passes you in the hallway and slows down, puts his hand up to stop you.

"Hey, I'm sorry for this morning," he says, eyes kind and gentle, "That was inappropriate, I shouldn't have touched your blouse."

You're not sure what to say, giving him a small shrug, "It's, uh, okay. I was just..." you shake your head, "Yeah, never mind, it's okay."

"You're wondering why I did it." he states, frowning, and you almost laugh at his immediate assessment of the situation; deflecting a DEA agent? Not the smartest idea.

"Well, yeah," you shrug, "It was kinda weird. You're usually, um... very respectful so-"

He winces, "I know, I'm sorry. It was just me trying to get on Peña's nerves," he shuffles awkwardly in front of you, shifting the weight from his left leg to his right and back again, "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but I owe him."

You look at him in total confusion, shaking your head, "I don't understand."

He chuckles, shaking his head, "I know, I'm just trying to figure out how to word it," he bites his lip and then seems to resign himself to something, "Javier... he likes you."

You stare.

"My wife and I, we kind of wrangled him into having dinner with us last night. They were talking, she was askin' him about women, if he'd been on any dates, typical questions," he laughs at the memory, "He said no and she asked if he had his eye on anyone. He said no again, but I know this guy like the back of my hand, I can read him like a book. I knew that second no was a goddamn lie."

Your heart is pounding in your chest but your thoughts are muddled, unable to draw a clear conclusion from what Steve is telling you. You continue to just stand there wordlessly, listening.

"A few drinks later - well, more than a few - I asked him who he had his eye on. You wouldn't believe how easy it was to get it out of him, he just smiled, took a drag of his cig..." Steve acts this out, bringing his cigarette-less fingers to his lips and pretending to take a puff, eyes heavy-lidded and bleary, "And said your name."

You can't believe what you're hearing, there's no way it's true, no way he's telling you about something that actually happened. Your heart continues to pound relentlessly, staring at Steve like he's speaking another language, a million wordless questions flying back and forth in your mind at top speed.

"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw," he quotes, voice slurred and gravelly, "She's sunshine incarnate."

"But he doesn't even look at me!" you blurt out, eyes wide.

Steve drops his hand and laughs again, shaking his head, "Sweetheart, he looks at you all the time. You're just looking away when he does it."

This revelation hits you hard, makes your breath catch in your throat. Is this actually true? Or is this some sick inside joke they're playing to get you to finally put in your notice, one of their private little games that you're not a part of. On principle it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard; the man has spoken to you once, only once, and it was on your first day. He'd introduced himself, shook your hand, and that was that.

"What do you mean you're doing this because you owe him?" you ask, shaking the thoughts away, "Isn't this just humiliating him?"

Steve smiles again, slightly smug, "I see the way you look at him too, you know. I'm not blind," he looks at his watch then and makes a face, "Listen, I gotta go, but if you're heading back to the office, he's still there."

"But, Steve, I-"

"Trust me," he gives you one of his reassuring smiles, "He needs - scratch that - wants someone like you, someone... stable."

You don't think being on the verge of quitting a paid internship would be considered stable, but you understand what he means. You may have only been here a short time but Javier's reputation is widely known around the office, something you've found yourself sympathizing with instead of villainizing him like others do. You know his history with women is pretty bleak relationship wise.

Steve begins to walk away from you, leaving you standing there speechless, "You better hurry before he leaves," he calls. He picks up his pace but you're still able to hear him as he mutters, "and that's my good deed done," then saunters down the hall and disappears around the corner.

--

The office you share with Javier and Steve is the only one still lit on your floor, meaning everyone else has already gone home. You know that Javier likes to stay late sometimes, work on the case alone and look at things from different angles in solitude. You feel nervous as you approach the door, not wanting to bother him. But regardless of whether what Steve said is true, you still need to call a taxi.

You turn the knob and walk inside, trying to be as quiet and slow as possible. Your efforts are pointless though, as Javier looks up from his work and sees you immediately, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"It's raining," you say softly, awkwardly, "I need to call a cab."

"Right," he nods to you and then returns to his work without an afterthought, writing something down on a piece of paper.

You stand there for a few moments just looking at him, watching his face, trying to find any indication of affection behind those focused eyes, his serious brow. He looks the same as always, lost in thought, scribbling away, handsome as he does it. The white shirt certainly isn't helping; he's unbuttoned it more now, his chest exposed and sunglasses hanging from a button near his pocket. He's so effortlessly gorgeous, it makes you ache.

He must sense you still standing there, not making any move to walk to your desk and pick up the phone. He looks up at you again, brow furrowed, "Do you need something?"

You shake your head quickly, cheeks burning, "N-no, sorry," you shuffle over to your desk and sit down in your chair, doing everything you can to avoid looking over at him again. You think about what Steve said, how Javier is always looking at you but only when you're not aware. You wonder if he's doing it right now.

You reach for the phone, unable to stop your hands from shaking slightly. You're almost sure you feel his gaze on you now, boring into you and watching every move you make, eyes deep and brown and calculating, always calculating. Assessing. What does he make of you? If what Steve said is true, what does he see when he looks at you?

Sunshine incarnate.

You can't help but smile at the words, dialing the number for the taxi slowly as your brain repeats them over and over. Had he really said that about you? And meant it? Your thoughts are so jumbled that you accidentally press the wrong button and have to start over, hanging up the phone quickly before picking it up again.

Just as you go to press the first number, a hand comes down and stops you, brushing against your fingers in a tender and gentle way. You freeze, staring at the hand, knowing it's his, knowing that if he wasn't looking at you before, he certainly is now.

"Why don't I just give you a ride, cariño?" he asks quietly, voice slightly rough around the edges, "I'm heading home now anyway."

You will yourself to look up, eyes capturing his immediately and getting lost in their depths, big and brown and soft and searching. Your lips part but no words come out. You force yourself to give him a nod, repressing the urge to jump up and kiss his mouth, envelop him, hold him close and look even deeper into those soulful eyes.

You stand shakily and walk to the door, feeling his eyes on your back as he follows behind you. The walk down to the main doors of the building is completely silent, save for the clicking of your heels against the linoleum and his heavy masculine breaths at your side. It's still raining once you get outside, and you can't help but make a face.

"Not a fan of the rain?" he asks you a bit loudly over the pelting of water against the concrete, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It's not my favorite," you admit, wincing, "Where are you parked?"

"You stay here where it's dry, I'll pull it up front."

You watch him dart out from under the eaves of the building, rain immediately soaking his white shirt without apology. You watch with wide eyes as his back becomes visible from the downpour, skin a pinkish brown beneath the suddenly translucent material. You catch sight of two dimples near his lower back before he disappears from eyesight.

You swallow, trying to pretend you don't feel yourself begin to throb within the confines of your underwear, a wetness pooling between your legs that has nothing to do with the rain.

Only a few moments later he's pulling up front, waving at you from behind the car window. You dash forward and feel the rain soak your hair, your skin, your blouse. There was nothing about rain in the forecast this morning so you hadn't thought to bring a jacket with you; you're now regretting that decision greatly.

The passenger side door is already unlocked and you slip inside gratefully, slamming it behind you and exhaling loudly. The rain continues to pelt the windows, the roof, a steady and repetitive sound as you look down at yourself to assess the damage. At least you chose a blue blouse and not a white one, although you can faintly see the shape of your nipples poking through the fabric. A bit self conscious, you cross your arms and huddle forward in the seat.

"Should heat up soon," Javier says beside you, quiet like he'd been in the office, "Seatbelt."

You glance over at him for only a second but regret it instantly, immediately noticing the way the rain has completely soaked his white shirt, exposing the taut and firm muscle beneath, his wide pecs, dark nipples, his flat stomach and belly button, the trail of hair that leads down to...

You grip the seatbelt in your hands and turn your attention to clicking it into place, feeling yourself throb even more. God, he's so fucking hot. You can't blame all the women he's slept with for wanting to get in his pants, he's a fucking Adonis. You take a few deep breaths as he pulls away from the building, focusing on the small bursts of heat that are beginning to radiate from the vents in front of you. You rub your hands together, momentarily forgetting that he could probably see your breasts through your blouse if he looked over.

But that's just it...you never know when he's looking at you. And part of you wonders what would be so bad about him seeing you like this.

You drive together in silence for a few moments, an undeniable tension building and building the longer you both sit there without speaking. Every so often you can't help but let your eyes trail back over to his body, eyeing the way his wet shirt clings to his skin, beginning to slowly dry in small patches from the car heater. You can vaguely make out the shape of a scar on his abdomen and you find yourself wanting to reach out and trace your finger along the length of it, ask him how he got it, kiss it better.

"I feel you watching me, querida," he murmurs, eyes on the road.

Your eyes widen and you sit back in your seat stiffly, "S-sorry."

In your peripheral vision you see him smile, thumbing the steering wheel, "You're always watching me, aren't you?"

You don't know what to say, swallowing tightly around the lump you feel building in your throat. Is he about to call you out? Tell you to stop?

"That's okay, I'm always watching you too," he says it quietly like it's a secret, taking a heavy breath as he continues, "But you know that now, don't you? Steve's a little shit."

You can't help but laugh, which makes him grin wider. He looks over at you and you meet his gaze, feeling shy when his eyes drop to your chest and back up again.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he murmurs, eyes back on the road, "I'll be real gentle, I promise."

You stare at him, slightly confused. It's only a moment later that it dawns on you: you never told him your address.

"Where are we going?" you ask quietly, voice shaking slightly in anticipation.

He gives you another side glance, smiling kindly at you, "I think you already know, cariño."

--

No more than twenty minutes later he has you laid out on his bed completely bare, his mouth pressed firmly against your wet core as you writhe and moan under his touch. His palms are pressed flush against your stomach, holding you to the mattress, never releasing you even when you start shaking uncontrollably from your orgasm. He just keeps going, sucking on your clit and fingering your throbbing hole, nose buried in the patch of hair on your mound.

"Javi, Javi, Javi," you repeat over and over again, thrashing in his sheets, fisting the duvet. He'd told you as soon as he had you in his bed that he didn't want you calling him Javier anymore, and you'd had absolutely no problem with amending your vocabulary.

He hums, giving your clit one last hard suck and making you almost scream with overstimulation, body heaving up off the mattress as he finally pulls away from your core and looks up at you with those big brown eyes.

"That's it, querida, feels so good, doesn't it?" he breathes, crawling back up and pressing kisses against your skin as you come down from the pleasure, heart pounding in your chest, "Your little pussy needed me so bad, didn't she?"

"Yes," you whimper, voice weak, unable to say anything else as he continues to kiss along your breasts, your neck, your cheeks. His mustache is soft and welcoming against your skin, tickling every inch of it in the best way possible as he worships you.

You can't believe you're even here, lying in his bed, lights dim as the rain continues to pelt the windows and drench the city while Javier drenches you. He's still wearing the white shirt, still damp and tucked into his jeans. You reach forward and pull at his belt, fingers trembling.

"Oh, cariño," he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth hungrily, "Want my cock now, do you? Thought that might have been too much for you."

You shake your head quickly, feeling tears sting in your eyes at the thought of him not giving you what you want, "Please," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please, Javi. I need it so bad."

"You do," he agrees, hands trailing upward to squeeze your breasts, thumbing your hard nipples, "You need to get fucked, knew it from the moment I met you. Knew it had to be me to do it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, voice breathless as he begins to undo his belt, "Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Because you're so pretty, hermosa, so pure," he tosses his belt to the ground and reaches for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Your eyes fall to his bare chest, his stomach, so much clearer now than they'd been through the wet fabric. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel yourself salivate as you reach up to palm the soft skin of his belly, feeling the hair under your fingertips, tracing the scar you'd seen earlier. He grabs your hand gently, squeezes it, "I knew if I talked to you, you'd end up right here. In my bed."

"And that would be a bad thing?" you whisper, eyes searching his, "This is bad?"

He shakes his head quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, "No, querida, this isn't bad. This is what you need, I know that now," he unzips himself and your jaw goes slack when you see that he isn't wearing any underwear, his cock completely bare and on display beneath the denim. He pulls himself out, showing you how long and thick he is, cut and curved, leaking from the tip. Some of it drips onto your tummy and you both watch it dribble down your skin, dipping into your belly button, "You need it," he whispers, "Knew it when you started looking at me like that."

"Like what?" you breathe, still staring at his large cock, wondering how it'll possibly fit inside you without splitting you in half.

"Like the way you're looking at my cock right now," he says softly, shuffling forward a bit on the bed, "Now, sit up, okay? Give it a kiss."

You don't need telling twice, scrambling amongst the sheets and crouching forward to envelop the head of his cock inside your mouth, warm and sticky on your tongue. You close your eyes, feeling them almost roll back in your head as you suck gently and swallow down his precome, tickling the back of your throat.

"Gonna see how much you can take, okay?" he says quietly above you, and you feel his hands in your hair, stroking your scalp reassuringly, "You can stop if it's too much."

You slowly move forward to take a few more inches, eyes still closed, only opening again when you feel his hands grip your hair tighter. You look up then, eyes lidded and heavy, and he's looking down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Such a pretty mouth," he murmurs, thumbing the base of your neck, "Just made to have my cock in there, huh?"

You nod slowly, breathing through your nose and pushing yourself further, wanting to take as much of him as you possibly can. You get about three quarters down and feel the tip prod the back of your throat. You still, inhaling deeply and feeling tears well in your eyes, silently begging yourself not to gag.

"Just a little more, querida," he whispers, stroking your hair, "You can do it, I know you can."

With his soothing encouragement you slowly take the rest of him, not stopping until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. You inhale again and your senses are overwhelmed by his masculine, sweaty, musky scent. It's heaven. You open your eyes and look up at him, tears welling over and spilling down your cheeks.

"Oh, baby," he says, biting back a moan, "That's so good, knew you could do it," he feels you trembling on his cock, throat closing around the head, and he carefully slides you off.

You start coughing immediately, drool running down your chin in long ropes. You'd feel embarrassed but he's smiling at you, leaning down to press kisses to your forehead.

"You did so good," he praises, wiping your chin with his thumb and kissing your lips tenderly, tasting himself on your tongue, "Took all of it so well, querida."

"I can do it again," you say quickly through another cough, voice rough, "Just gimme a second."

He smiles wider and shakes his head, "I know you can, but you don't need to, not tonight. Just wanted to see if you could take the whole thing in that pretty mouth," he thumbs your lips and you immediately capture it between them, sucking his thumb feverishly. He groans slightly, watching it disappear, "and now that I know you can... we need to see how well it fits inside that perfect little pussy, hm? Think it'll fit?"

You nod immediately, releasing his thumb with a pop, "I'll make it fit."

He groans again, getting off the bed and pulling his jeans down his legs, "That's what I like to hear, baby." He pulls open his bedside table and grabs a condom, tossing it over to you, "Now put that on my dick, cariño, gotta be safe."

You shuffle to the edge of the bed, ripping the condom open with your teeth and sliding it down his length. You feel his eyes on you now; you'd never been able to feel it before, had no idea he'd even been looking at you, and now it's like his gaze is burning your skin. You lean forward and press one more kiss to the head of his cock, smirking when it twitches.

"Come here, hermosa," he mutters, taking your hand and carefully pulling you off the bed. You both stand there naked in front of each other as he leans down to kiss you tenderly, hand trailing up to press flush against your back. He's so beyond everything you could have ever hoped for; you still can't believe this is actually happening, "Stay there for a second," he whispers.

You watch as he gets on the bed and sits at the top, back leaning against the headboard. His cock stands stiff and inviting beneath him as he splays his legs out and opens his arms.

"Sit on my cock, querida," he breathes, and without any hesitation you climb into his lap, legs shaking as you grip his shoulders and hover above him, "Nice and slow," he whispers, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, "That's it."

The tip of his cock breaches your entrance and you keen at the sensation, still shaking slightly as you slowly ease yourself down on him. You're so wet, his length slipping inside easily at first, but once you get about halfway down your hips stutter and you whimper.

"You got it, baby," he breathes, thumbs splayed across your belly, "Not much more," he pushes inside a bit further and you cry out in ecstasy, burying your face in his shoulder. His hands move to your back, holding you tightly against him as he continues to fill you, not stopping until he bottoms out, "There," he murmurs, rubbing circles into the skin of your back, "That's all of it, cariño. Did so good, taking it so well for me."

You sit like that for a few moments, him whispering praises in your ear and rubbing your skin soothingly. He's so thick inside you, you've never felt so full. After a few more moments he carefully grips your hips and slowly begins to move you on his cock, up and down, watching your expression and reveling in the whines emitting from your throat.

"That's it," he says, brow furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your face, "That's what a real cock feels like, querida, and it's the only one you're gonna get from now on." Your face scrunches up in pleasure and you find yourself hiding in his shoulder again, wrapping your arms around him and starting to move your hips to match his pace.

"Javi," you whimper, feeling the head of his cock pushing against the deepest part of you every time you brace down, "So big inside me, Javi."

"I know, cariño," he murmurs, soothing you again with a gentle rub to your back, "Filling you up so good, huh?"

You hum and let yourself go, nose pressed into the dip of his collarbone as you still on his cock and let him go back to working you up and down, murmuring in your ear about how good you feel, what a perfect girl you are, how you'll never fuck anyone else but him for the rest of your life. And you want to believe it's true.

"Work won't be the same anymore," you say against his skin, voice muffled.

"Christ, baby, you're thinking about work?" he taps on your neck and you pull back to look at him, shivering as he continues to fuck you relentlessly as he speaks to you, "Don't think about work right now, querida, not when I've got my cock buried inside you."

"I want you to start fucking me at work," you say suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure as he hits the deepest part of you again, "In secret, please."

He stills for a second, surprise appearing on his face before he smiles, starts fucking you again with even more fervor, grunting with very thrust.

"Of course I will, baby," he says, pressing his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter and fucking you fast and hard, so much so that you feel yourself writhe off the bed again, fingers clasping around nothing as you moan loudly, "I told you, ever since I met you I knew you needed this, needed my cock," he kisses you then, wet and hot, and you feel the tension in your belly start to build, "Gonna give it to you every chance I get from now on, I promise."

You whimper at his words, fucking yourself down on him as hard as you can and letting out cries of pure bliss as he begins to hit your favorite spot over and over, so impossibly deep inside you that you think maybe he will split you open. He rises off the bed with you a bit, holding you tight to him as he wildly bucks into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna come, hermosa," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and sticky against your skin, "Give me one more, get that pussy all wet for me," you let out an inhuman sound and feel yourself involuntarily bite into his shoulder, making him groan.

"I'm sorry," you moan, pulling back and seeing the crescent shaped mark in his flesh.

"For what?" he groans, and you feel his thumb start to prod your clit, rubbing it furiously, "Do it again, baby, mark me up, make me yours," you feel your orgasm overtake you at the words, fingernails digging into his back as you writhe and cry in his arms. Without hesitation you bite down on him again, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that there will most certainly be a mark there tomorrow.

He groans at the sensation, pulling you impossibly closer and stilling inside you as he pumps the condom full of his spend, twitching inside you at every pulse. He doesn't pull out right away, just lays still within you while you pant against his shoulder, eyeing the purple mark beginning to bloom on his skin.

"I bit you," you say, eyes wide.

He shifts slightly beneath you, cock still filling you up as he chuckles, "Yes, you did."

"I'm sor-"

He puts a hand up, shaking his head, "Don't apologize, cariño, I like it."

You nod slowly and carefully pull yourself off his cock, already missing the full sensation of having him deep inside you. You lay back on the bed beside him, eyes closed as he disposes of the condom and then settles himself tightly against your side, spooning you and pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck.

"Did you mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes still closed as you feel yourself begin to drift off in his embrace, "Will you really fuck me at work?"

He laughs, gorgeous and perfect in your ear, "Yes, mi sol, I meant it."

--

Javi takes you home early the next morning so you can change your clothes, not wanting Steve to know about what happened last night, as much as it would probably tickle him to know he had a hand in it. He waits for you outside, listening to the radio in his car and squinting against the bright sun, fingers tapping against the base of the window absentmindedly. After a few moments you come back out, wearing a yellow blouse this time in honor of your new nickname. He smiles radiantly at you and you know you made a good choice.

You both manage to keep Steve completely in the dark for the first part of the day; Javi goes back to ignoring you the way he usually does, which you have to admit makes you feel a little bad. But it's all water under the bridge when he follows you to the women's bathroom around noon and locks you inside one of the stalls with him. A few seconds later his cock is hitting the back of your throat as he proves to you that he wasn't lying.

--

"What's that?" Steve says in the late afternoon, only about an hour until you can go home. You look up from your desk but he isn't talking to you, his gaze fixed on Javi.

"What?" Javi replies, brow furrowing as he looks down at himself, "Got a bug on me or something?"

"No, you have a bite mark on your shoulder," Steve says matter-of-factly, and you feel your cheeks go hot, eyes widening as you stare at Javier and watch him figure out what to say.

He just shrugs coolly, "Yeah, slept with this wild bonita last night, she wanted to mark me," he looks back down at his work, "Your wife ever do shit like that, Murphy?"

Steve sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, "No, she doesn't."

"Thought so," Javi smirks, still not looking up from his paperwork, and you watch as Steve twists his mouth into a scowl, shaking his head.

A few seconds later Steve's looking over at you, giving you a small look of what you can only describe as sympathy, "Sorry," he mouths, shrugging dejectedly, "My bad."

You give him a smile in return, shaking your head, unable to help the rush you feel at not getting caught.

"It's okay," you mouth back, "I'll get over it."

You know Javi is watching you this time.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hiiii!!! I don't know if this request will be to personal, but you asked for some spencer requests and this is what I thought of :)!! Would you be able to do an spencer x fem!reader but reader is more masculine?? Cause I find it hard to find any fics like that. I wear what makes me feel comfortable but its hard to see other girls with cute sun dresses while I'm here looking like Adam Sandler. I also find it difficult to imagine my favorite characters with a girl leaning towards the masc side, really because they're paired with hyper feminine people alot. Which don't get me wrong, I love girls who embrace their fem side, its just so difficult to find representation for people like myself. Understand if you don't feel like doing it!!! Thank you for reading!! And keep doing you, you're amazing!!! <3

You wear what feels comfortable and Spencer loves that nothing anyone says will deter you from being comfortable and confident in your own skin. 

He loves your graphic t-shirts and your baggy jeans or cargos. He finds you look like a rockstar most times, in the way that you don’t care at all if anyone finds your outfits groundbreaking, because you look like a badass all the time. 

“I like this top,” it’s a white t-shirt with Snoopy on the front and his cute dog house on the back. Spencer can’t stop his hands from wandering under the hem of it and touching your stomach. “It’s really soft.”

You nod, kissing the top of Spencer’s curls as you slip into a blue pair of cargos, your boots lay near the bedroom door. 

“Can we go to the bakery first and then the chess games?” you ask Spencer and he nods, leaning back on the bed as he watches you tie the strings on the pants. 

“How do you make everything look so good?” he asks breathlessly, a smile on your face as you fit a headband on to push back your hair. His eyes track every movement, enchantment clear in them.

“You’re in a particularly sweet mood today, genius.” Spencer blushes but he really is. Sure he’s usually all lovey and enamoured with you, but today he seems to be overflowing with affection- not that you mind. 

“You make me like this.” He’s one hundred percent honest too. You’re sure if someone were to draw Spencer as he is right now, laying in your sheets with his long legs hanging off the bed, they’d draw him with hearts in his eyes. 

“I’ll do up your boots,” he rushes like you’d begrudge him the rite. “There perfect, you look so pretty.” you kiss him chastely before he can spew any more compliments that make your body heat like you’re laid on coals.

[mystverse]

EVERYDAY DRABBLES - ⁴ L.HC

You did not expect your heat to coincide with Hyuck's rut. You really didn't. If you had known that your pheromones might trigger his rut, you wouldn't have fought with him. Hell, you wouldn't have even let him come into your apartment. Unlike you, Hyuck had great self-control, even in his rut. He manages it pretty well, but this time, he lost it. With your honey scent engulfing the whole living room, expecting him to stay sane is ridiculous, even to you.

He slams the door shut behind, and you start backing away from him. His eyes are fiery red, and his lips curl into a smirk once he inhaled the cloying scent of yours. Your outfit didn't even help a little. You internally curse yourself for opting to wear it. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he takes in your appearance. Flushed cheeks. Blown out eyes. Sweet scent of your slick.

You really thought he's gonna devour you right then and there. But God! Had he had other plans to execute; to ruin you whole. He smiles so sweetly, as if you both hadn't been yelling at each other through phones.

"Hey, sweetness." his voice itself gives you chills. The way it deepens when he calls you makes you shiver even more. Your words come out as whispers as you lean against the sofa, nails digging into the velvet, "Ye-ah." You stutter, as more slick soaks through your lace panties. You're burning up. The urge to beg of him to ruin you is too much.

"Shall we watch a movie?" he plops down on the couch, legs spread and inviting. You stand rooted in your position, biting your lips as the flush sneaks upto to your cheeks even more, "Thought you were gonna fuck me?" you try, he might get the hint but he just laughs.

"Maybe later," Oh. Your disappointment must have been very clear in your face because he has his arrogant smirk on his lips, and his tongue wets the lower once again, "Any problem?" his voice is breathy and torturously seductive, but you shake your head as the movie starts.

He pulls you to his lap, making you straddle his thigh. You gasp when your wet core brushes the rough fabric of his jeans, and he is hard. You unconsciously roll your hips, trying to get some friction.

"Stop squirming." He mutters against the back of your neck. You quietly gasp as his fingers tap the sweaty skin of your thigh. You shift insignificantly, very minimal. He wouldn't even notice it, you think.

"Be good and sit still, sweetness." he whispers, his fingers gliding a little up and under the soft fabric of your (his) shirt and kissing the back of your neck. Open mouth kisses are littered all over the bare skin of your back as the shirt slips down without any resistance.

Your breathing is hot and heavy as another wave washes down your body. The shirt is almost transparent with your sweat and skin, hot and burning. Your scent is in the air, alarmingly sweet and intoxicating. The slick stains his jeans, and you squirm, "Hyuck, pleaseㅡ"

Your plead is cut off in the middle, when his fingers tug down the lace off your waist, eyes fixed on you, watching your face contort into expression of embarrassment, "Aww. You're so wet, sweetness, leaking already," the lace lands somewhere in the room, and you couldn't care less about it. The damp shirt joins next, you whine out of diffidence, instinctively covering yourself with your arms going around your torso and red staining your neck till the tip of your ears.

He laughs, the dark pools of his eyes thirstily gawking at you. He pins your hand behind you and grazes his canines below your collarbone. You gasp as his tongue runs over the mark of his claim. His lips move up, placing teasing bites all over your throat and finally on your lips. It's barely a contact, yet it draws you in.

"Ride my thigh, sweetness." his breath is hot against your lips. Your breath hitches when he positions his thigh right against your core while he sets the rhythm, for you to fall, to get lost in him.

: MYST

[puddingyun]

tupelo . ݁₊ ⊹ j.yh

hollywood star!yunho x up-and-coming actress!reader

18+ mdni

: 3.6k words, smut, fluff, implied age gap, praise kink, light dom/sub, grinding, oral (f receiving), petnames (honey, sweetheart, darling, baby, little lady, bunny) :

day 9 of fff24 ♡ (a/n: this took me forever but i love it so much, hope you all do too!)

Humiliation bloomed in your chest, prickly and sour as it climbed up your neck and to your cheeks. It stung, digging its thorns into your skin and making tears fill your eyes. You sniffed and quickened your steps, determined not to let anybody see you cry. Your rush to get away from all the prying eyes around you had you out of breath by the time you reached Yunho's dressing room, your lungs screaming for air as you meekly pushed open the door. 

Inside you found Yunho, your senior in the industry both in years and fame, looking through outfits he'd commissioned for an upcoming show, his eyes narrowed and critical as they scanned over every stitch and wrinkle in the fabric. He was concentrated, but didn't startle at all when you cleared your throat.

"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, your voice croaky thanks not only to the absence of air in your lungs but also due to your aching heart. Yunho turned his head to look at you, his eyes widened at the sight of you and then quickly softened, a smile playing on his lips.

"No, honey, come in," he replied with a wave of his hand. You let out a sigh of relief and quickly shut the door behind you, trudging over to the plush sofa Yunho had ordered special for his dressing room and quickly curling up in the corner. 

Yunho's dressing room was often busy with other actors and singers and his friends, making it one of the busier and louder spots around the different sets, but Yunho's presence had made it a life preserver in a rough sea for you. Ever since you'd set out to become an actress Yunho had kept an eye on you, knowing that you were both from small towns and were something close to fish out of water in the big city where everybody else seemed to have connections. 

He let you nap on his sofa between lessons and auditions, helped you with your lines, and made sure things were going as smoothly as possible for you. He'd gotten to know your family when they came by to visit you and made it his business to look after you and guide you through every rough patch you faced. He was your protector and made life out here a little more bearable. His sweetness stoked the crush you'd had on him from the moment you met him, but you kept that to yourself, lest you lose the only friend you had out here. You weren't the quickest with learning lines or picking up the different publicity rules that were being thrown at you left and right, but you were eager to learn and always trying your best - that was all that really mattered to Yunho. 

Unfortunately, Yunho was the only one willing to look past all of your flaws to see the hard work you were putting in everyday.

"What're you doing here, sweetheart?" Yunho asked you suddenly, eyes still focused on the rack of clothing in front of him. "Aren't you supposed to be at a table read this afternoon?"

"I don't wanna go," you mumbled, feeling the nasty heat of humiliation prickling in the back of your throat once again. You felt Yunho's gaze move to fix on you and stubbornly pulled your knees up to your chest to hide your face against them. It was no use with the intensity of Yunho's stare, burning through any shield you tried to put up.

"C'mon, honey, you can't be skipping things just like that," he scolded, albeit gently. "Why're you here instead of where you're s'posed to be?"

"I just don't wanna go!" you yelled, all of your embarrassment and bitterness pouring into your voice so that it came out harsher than you'd meant it to. This only served to embarrass you more and you desperately pushed your face further into hiding.

"I don't appreciate you raisin' your voice at me like that, alright?" Yunho answered, firm without being harsh. "I promised your momma I would see to it that you got all your work done, I don't intend on lettin' her down." 

While it stung to be reprimanded by somebody you admired so deeply you found some comfort in the patience he had for you. You sniffed and worked up the courage to speak up, your voice trembling.

"I know, I just- I had a real bad day," you mumbled. You felt the couch dip beside you as Yunho sat by your side, stroking the top of your head to try to get you to come out of hiding. 

"I'm sorry, baby. Why don't you tell me what's going on so we can get you back to work, hm?" he asked, gentle as ever.

Reluctantly, you lifted your head and let the tears you'd been holding back roll down your cheeks. Yunho's expression melted immediately and he hugged you to his side so that you could cry quietly against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and squeezed you closer to him, humming fondly when you held onto a fistful of his shirt to ground yourself.

"Hush, baby, it's okay. What's got my darling all worked up, hm?" he cooed. As he spoke you could feel the rumble of his deep voice in his chest against your clenched fist, the feeling soothing you. 

"I can't keep up with everybody else, Yunho. Everybody's so far ahead and I'm always stuck rereading the same sentences like a dummy," you managed to push out between sobs, squeezing your eyes shut to push away the memory of everybody rolling their eyes at you and muttering cruel words when they thought you couldn't hear. "They all hate me and they're right to, I don't have the same talent everybody else does-"

"That isn't true at all, baby," Yunho interrupted sternly. You felt his thumbs brush across your cheeks, wiping away your tears and with them the sour feeling of your embarrassment. "I ain't seen anybody work as hard as you do. All them other kids are here 'cause their mommies and daddies are rich, you worked your ass off to get here and you deserve it more than any of 'em."

"You really think that?" you whispered, wanting oh-so-badly to believe him but struggling to forget the callous words you'd heard from everybody else. "You aren't just sayin' it to make me feel better?"

"Darlin'," Yunho said, pulling back from you enough to tilt your chin up to look at him. You opened your eyes and through the film of tears saw Yunho smiling at you, looking so enamoured and endeared that you could feel your stomach tying itself into knots. "'Course I think so. You work so goddamn hard, and you get better everyday. You're smart and gorgeous. Don't pay them any mind."

A different kind of heat flooded your chest this time, a kind that made your heart skip a beat and made you smile even when you willed yourself not to. 

"Thank you, Yunnie," you murmured, sniffling and letting go of his shirt where you'd had it held tightly in your fist. Even as you let go, wrinkles remained in the crisp fabric. You felt your smile turn to a pout at the sight of them and reached out in a futile attempt to smooth them out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mess up your shirt."

Yunho only clicked his tongue, taking your shaky, damp hand in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

"You're too sweet for your own good, hon," he sighed, smiling when your eyes met his. "Listen. Anythin' you need, I'm right here for you. You don't need to worry your pretty head about anythin' at all."

"You're not gonna make me go to that table read, are you?" you whispered. Yunho shook his head, seeming amused that you would even ask. 

"Not today, no. How 'bout you stay here with me? Help me with some of my lines, hm?" he offered, leaning back against the sofa with one arm resting against its back, creating the perfect place for you to nestle against him, resting your head on his chest while his fingers drew shapes against your neck. The idea of helping Yunho with anything seemed so silly, as if there was anything he could learn from you, but when he patted his lap you laid your legs across his thighs without hesitation, giggling at how tolerant he was of your wrapping yourself around him. "There's that gorgeous laugh."

You bit your lip to stifle a giddy smile and hid your face further against his warm chest, concentrating your hardest as he began to recite lines from his latest script. 

For the rest of the afternoon the two of you worked through his script slowly, laughing at the cringeworthy lines and joking about the different characters' speech patterns. It didn't take you long to realise that Yunho must not be getting much work done at all, but any guilt you felt was quickly smoothed over by the proud, fond smiles Yunho would shoot your way each time you spoke a line in a cadence that was just right. 

By the time you'd finished reading through all of the sections Yunho had dog-eared you were almost falling asleep, eyelids heavy and heart soothed by his voice and all of his gentle touches. You lifted your head from where it had been resting on Yunho's chest and took in just how handsome he was. All the pictures you'd seen of him back home hadn't done him any justice. They couldn't capture the slope of his nose right, or the way his bottom lip looked when he distractedly bit it. They hadn't made your heart pound in your chest like it was doing now, its steady rhythm loud in your ears.

"Yunho?" you spoke softly, making him set his script aside and turn his attention to you. 

"What is it, bunny?" he asked, the sweet nickname making your heart do all kinds of somersaults. "You look sleepy, want me to take you home?"

You shook your head no, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought over your words.

"Thank you for... takin' care of me and all," you whispered, fidgeting nervously. "I know you got an awful lot of work to do but you always say you're not busy when I need something. Thank you, Yunnie."

"Oh, it's no problem, sweet thing. I got all the time in the world for you, you're my special girl," he said, the words so casual on his tongue that they seemed like second nature to him. To you, they lit a fire in your belly, one that warmed your cheeks and made your fidgeting multiply tenfold.

"You mean that? I'm your... girl?" you asked, unable to bring yourself to say the word 'special'. Yunho watched your expression and finally seemed to catch on to what it was that you were really trying to say. Instead of rolling his eyes like you'd expected him to do, he huffed a short laugh and smiled at you.

"Yes, darlin'. My special girl," he repeated. "Pretty, sweet little thing who comes to my dressing room and sits on my lap when she's tired, stealing my heart without realising." 

Your eyes widened and you went still, even the heartbeat thrumming in your ears seemed to get the hint and quieted down. Yunho's smile softened like butter in the hot sun and his hands moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

"You alright with that, honey?" he asked, putting your comfort first just like every other time you came to him needing something. You bit your lip, letting his words sink in before you smiled at him and nodded. 

"Yeah," you breathed. At the sound of this Yunho leaned in and kissed your warm cheek, soft and tender unlike how you'd seen him kiss women in all the movies he'd starred in. You found that soft and tender made you far more dizzy than any rough approach would have, your head still spinning when he turned his head to press his lips against yours. 

A soft sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, rose in your throat and escaped your lips as Yunho shifted to press another kiss to your lips, his lips parting against yours this time. He tasted like cigarettes, expensive bourbon, and Cola, and his lips made your mouth tingle the same as the carbonated drink did. You smiled into the kiss when he nipped at your bottom lip, giggling and clambering into his lap with the help of his hands on your hips.

"I could get drunk just from kissin' you, little lady," he murmured, your dress bunching up where he squeezed you tight. Your hands came up to shyly hold his face, his barely-there stubble grazing your soft palms. When you tilted his face upwards he indulged you with another kiss, licking into your mouth when your tongue tentatively swiped at his lips and swallowing each and every little moan you couldn't hold back. The kiss was warm and wet, sticky like a summer evening and intoxicating like the first beer you'd ever drank. When you finally parted, you were just as breathless as when you'd arrived at Yunho's dressing room, only this time your lungs couldn't have cared less about how empty they were. 

"You taste good," you mumbled without thinking, whining softly when Yunho laughed at you, his thumb stroking your hip through the fabric of your dress.

"That so, sweetheart?" he asked, chuckling again when you nodded your head yes. His eyes were dark and concentrated as he took in your flustered appearance, lips wet with spit (his spit) and breath coming in soft little pants that reminded him of hiccups. He let out a groan, head tipping back as he drew you closer to him, your fronts pressed flush together. "God, if you ain't the prettiest thing I ever saw."

His compliments, which you'd gotten used to the longer you knew him, now made you squirm on his lap, tummy warm from his affection and brain fuzzy from his words. 

"You've met some awful pretty women before," you countered, which only made Yunho's brows furrow and the corners of his lips draw downwards. 

"They don't have your doe eyes," he whispered, using two fingertips to close your eyelids so that he could press a kiss to each of them. "Or this cute little nose." He kissed the tip of your nose. "Your soft cheeks." His lips ghosted over each of your cheeks. "Or your beautiful neck..."

He trailed kisses down the side of your neck, hot and open-mouthed just like the kisses he'd left on your mouth until he latched onto your skin, biting down and sucking until you were whimpering from the sting of it.

"And all your beauty marks are like constellations, hon," he murmured, stroking a fingertip over the spot where he'd bitten you. "Feel like I could get lost lookin' at you."

"Yunnie," you whimpered, growing hotter with each word that he spoke. The fire he'd stoked in your belly now danced on  your skin, every part of you feverish with a want for him that was making your breath tremble and your panties wet. 

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, dutiful even as his lips wandered and left kisses along your collarbones. 

You pressed your hips down against his, trying to communicate without having to use your words. Yunho's chest rumbled with a low moan and his hands moved to squeeze your ass, accidentally dragging your hips against his lap again so that you could feel the bulge in his pants pressing right against you. You gasped at the feeling, eyes falling shut as you began to grind against him, chasing more of the pleasure that was growing between your legs. 

"Fuck, darlin'," Yunho moaned. His fingers kneaded at the plush fat of your ass and thighs, slowly sliding your dress up until his blunt nails were digging into your skin. "You like it when I talk sweet to you, that it? Like when I tell you how stunnin' you are, how you make my head spin and my cock ache?"

You nodded eagerly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and holding on tight to him as you rubbed against his hard on. Your senses were flooded with the scent of his cologne, floral and musky all at once, making your brain turn to cotton as your soft pants turned into moans. 

"God, baby, look at you," Yunho cooed. "So fuckin' good and eager for me, getting yourself off without even taking off your panties."

You nodded against him while he continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. You wanted to be good for him more than anything in the world, to hear him call you special and pretty and talented and his. Each of his words pushed you closer to the edge, your soaking cunt clenching around nothing each time you moved your hips just right and put pressure on your clit. You were so close to falling apart, muffling your sounds against Yunho's neck, when suddenly his hands stopped your movements, gripping your hips tight and stopping you from reaching orgasm. 

"Yunho," you cried out, lifting your head and shooting him a weak glare. Unfortunately, your look only made him grin fondly, one of his hands tapping your ass lightly. 

"I can't let my special girl cum in her panties," he said firmly, smoothing your hair out of your face and leaning in to kiss you tenderly. "Let me take care of you properly, baby, make your pretty pussy cum as good as you deserve."

Though you were still pouting from being pulled back from the edge, cunt throbbing and aching for release, you managed to utter a soft 'okay' and earned yourself another kiss from Yunho, this one hungrier than the last. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as Yunho laid you back against the sofa, his hands warm as they pushed up your dress to reveal your soaked panties. He groaned at the sight, looking at you like he could eat you alive. Even so he pulled your panties down your legs with care, watching you kick them off of one foot with an amused smile. 

"Look at you, sweet thing. So fuckin' wet for me," he mused, thumbing over your clit with just enough pressure to make your hips jolt. He laughed, kissing your inner thigh before leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath against your sticky lower lips. "You're such a good girl without even trying."

You opened your mouth to reply but the words died on your lips when you felt Yunho's tongue press between your folds, lapping up your wetness then swirling his tongue around your clit. The warmth of his mouth made your eyes roll back in your head, back arching as he sucked on your clit.

"Tastes so good," he hummed, pushing one of his fingers into you and bending it so that it pressed against a spot that had you moaning his name loud enough for anybody outside the dressing room to hear. Instead of scolding you, Yunho just smiled and pressed a messy kiss to your thigh. "Sweet just like you, baby."

You clenched around his finger, thighs trembling and squeezing his head as he began to lick you again. His tongue pressed flat against your throbbing clit while his finger continued to knead at your insides, seeming to know just where to press with every little movement. 

"Yunho," you moaned, head falling back against the sofa. "I can't- feels so good."

"Perfect girl, takin' everything so well," Yunho praised. His finger slid out of you with a lewd wet sound and began to rub circles around your clit. "Cum on my face whenever you want, honey, you deserve it."

No sooner had he pressed his tongue into you, nose nudging your clit, than your orgasm hit you, washing over you like a summer heatwave and making you shake all over. Yunho's name fell from your lips over and over again like a prayer, a smile on his face as he let you ride out your orgasm until you were limp and spent. 

"That's my girl," he praised you, sounding close to infatuated. He wiped his mouth off before leaning in to kiss you once more, rewarding you even though he'd done most of the work. "You're perfect, doll."

You whined softly, still catching your breath, and reached up to pull him down into another kiss. You didn't care if your release was still on his tongue, you just wanted the familiar comfort of having him take care of you. 

"Okay, pretty girl," he whispered, cupping your face with his clean hand and stroking your feverish cheek with his thumb. "I'm gonna take you home so you can freshen up, alright?"

You began to protest but Yunho quickly shushed you, still stroking your cheek with a care that had your heart aflutter even through your mushy state of mind. 

"I'll go out and get us somethin' to eat, whatever you'd like, then I'll come right back and we can have dinner together. How does that sound?"

You smiled, pushing yourself upright so that you could wrap your arms around Yunho in a tight hug.

"Thank you, Yun," you mumbled, heart flip-flopping at the feeling of Yunho's hand rubbing up and down your spine.

"'Course, honey," he replied with a kiss to your head. "Anything for my special girl."

[solbaby7]

Enchantress

pairing: rhysand x reader

warnings: kinda dark, mild swearing, possession, possibly some smut

summary: You accidentally release something you're not supposed to but maybe its not so bad after all

—

You should've stayed put.

Rhysand said he'd be right back and to stay right where you were but it felt like a hundred years had passed and he still had yet to return. You turn in place, eyes catching on a display on the far corner; far away from all the other precious artifacts Rhysand had been throughly explaining before disappearing.

You'd actually been quite interested.

Ignoring the grumbling sounds of your belly in favor of his voice, rambling on about his great battles; the land his ancestors had pillaged and the great treasures they took as souvenirs.

You stayed in place a minute more, going to far as to call his name but no one responded—and the display looked really lonely.

Your feet are moving before you can second guess it, before your instincts can kick in and sound their warning bells to your brain to stay the fuck away because something certainly wasn't right. The closer you get, the more transfixed you are with the contents; a box filled with a stone that glowed emerald. You hand hovers against the glass and just before your fingers touch it, the display opens; a smoke tinged in green kissing your face and the stone is in your hands in seconds.

It hums in your grasp, deep power residing inside and you're only certain because you can feel it; can hear it calling to you in that hiss of a tone. "Release me for I am your destiny and you are mine."

Rhysand finally returns when your hands are high above your head, eyes dazed as if in a trance and he can barely get the first two syllables of the word 'stop' out before the stone is no more; a series of shattered emerald pieces and a dark force emerges free. It happens so quickly, your eyes widening in realization, a sharp cry before the ebbing darkness is seeping into your skin and fusing into every pore.

Its intrusive.

Cramped.

Like sharing a small room with two full grown bodies and not enough space to breathe or move or think.

"I can fix that," That hissing voice whispers in your ear, freezing cold hands curled around your shoulders but it's not as uncomfortable as you'd anticipated. "Just say it. Say the words."

It feels like the walls are closing in, pushing and nudging and squeezing you whole like they did with grapes to make wine and you're gasping for air when you respond. "What words?"

"Enchantress.” One word and your skin is littered in goosebumps. “Call my name and we shall become one."

Become one?

What was that supposed to mean?

There's no time to think—Rhysand always said not to make bargains or deals under distress; not when you aren't thinking clearly and paying attention to the wording but you just can't breathe and right before it all goes black, you gasp out. "Enchantress."

She sucks in a greedy breath, your clothes shifting into something similar to the outfit Rhysand had handed you to wear on a visit to the Hewn City—to the Court of Nightmares. "Such a youthful body." The Enchantress whispers out, voice seeming to adjust to your own; it takes a few tries for the sentences to come out smoothly after so long without a mouth but she quickly adapts. "Much better than my last one."

"Your last one?" Rhysand questions sharply, standing firm but his body language was prepared for a fight no matter how unsure he was about the whole situation. He couldn't hit you; wouldn't be able to use much force and the thought of raking those sharp talons against your brain made his stomach churn in distaste.

"I'm a large package," She grins, dark magic smoking off her figure like the shadows that Azriel summoned. "It's hard to fit it all in such fragile meatsuits but this one seems to be quite used to taking such power."

If Rhys notices the underlying sexual innuendo, he swiftly ignores it. "You can read her mind?"

The Enchantress keeps her distance, eyeing the High Lord up and down, silently sizing him up and there's genuine surprise when she realizes his power was alarmingly similar to her own. "It's our mind now, Lord of Darkness."

"Don't call me that."

She inches closer, eyes glowing at the button she'd pushed and Rhysand's fingers flex at his sides. "You're right, she says you actually prefer Lord of Destruction."

Rhysand can't help the way his body responds to the nickname that's said in your voice with a woman wearing your face, dressed in a body he worshipped night and day. "She says?"

The Enchantress sighed, almost bored when she answers; voice more clipped as she explored the room she'd only ever known from the confines of that damn display. "Your mate is still in here; just pushed to the backseat for a little bit. Don't worry she's having a good time."

"She didn't know any better—"

"Don't underestimate us, she gave full consent. The girl’s probably delirious from the power as we speak."

Rhysand's eyes squint in suspicion, searching for a tell; determining if the mystical being was bluffing or not. "What do you want from her?"

"Nothing really, just a body and maybe even some entertainment if you're up for it. Of all the things that your girl could be thinking about and the only thing on the brain is your cock fucking into her while she's like this." Rhysand sucks in a breath at the words, her tone more like yours than ever before and he can feel the blood rushing between his legs, the growing tent against expensive fabric.

He really couldn't help it. Those clothes, your figure; the promise of fucking his seed deep in your body that was just thrumming with power more similar to his own than he'd ever once detected in his life. "Would it hurt her?"

The Enchantress laughs, a quick shout of a thing that made your shoulders shake. "Hurt her? With all of my power inside of her, she'll be coming before you can even fit all of it in."

She can hear his gulp and even from your spot as backseat driver you don't blame him for a second for considering it. The power was exhilarating, rooting deep in your blood and settling into your bones until just the smell of the High Lord had your thighs clenching in anticipation.

"So, what do you say?"

A pause before the unmistakable click of a lock. "Take off your clothes."

You make a noise, a pleased sound and Rhysand’s knees buckle when the fabric of your clothes melt into water. It drips to the floor, body bare and glistening; ripe for the taking and soaked with want. “Don’t hold back, High Lord. It’s been a long time and I’m feeling greedy.”

He’s too careful at first; fearful of hurting the soul behind the body presented to him while his mouth is trailing kisses up your neck. The Enchantress is more than patient, accepting the exploratory touches and arching into the fingers trailing down the slippery length of your back. “The water was a nice touch.”

“You’re charming but if you don’t touch me, I’ll do it myself.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time—I quite the fan of watching.”

Your eyes light up at the words whispered into your ear and it’s second nature when you grab for his hands and place it between your thighs. “You’re not this talkative in her memories of you,” The mystical being croons, teasingly dragging his fingers up the dripping arousal seeping past your lips. “—are you trying to impress me?”

“Is it working?” Violet eyes bore into yours and you don’t need to guide his hand any further, two fingers sliding through while the pad of his thumb worked tight, slow circles around your clit.

She was right; encased in so much power even just Rhysand’s fingers felt like pure euphoria, whiny moans and choppy breaths proving the pleasure he drew from you without even really trying.

Your chest is heaving when you answer, eyes half-lidded and the room smells like lust and jasmine scented oils burning over a candle. “Maybe a little.”

It was a lie.

One he doesn’t call you on when your body does it for you, hips writhing as his fingers curled into you, dragging against spongy walls while pumping in and out and in and out until your eyes squeezed shut. “Open them, you wanted me to fuck you so bad—watch me while I do it.” It takes real effort to follow the orders given and when you do another moans rips out and the smile on his face. “Watch yourself come on my fingers.”

You do, mostly, eyes closing towards the end and when his fingers slide out you quickly realize your mistake.

“You’d think for a mystical being that you’d be good at following instructions.”

Words no longer exist and for once, you’re the one left speechless.

You can nothing but watch as you fall pliant to powerful hands that lift you like nothing and carry you to the thin desk adorned in rare vases and busts sculpted from stone and Rhysand’s swipes them clear off to make room for you. You barely hear them disintegrate into specks; too focused on the clothes at disappear and you have to double check that you aren’t drooling when you take in the inky tattoos marking tanned skin. “That’s okay though,” The High Lord affirms just barely over a whisper when coating his cock in your juices. He’s got a hand curled around your thigh, legs spread wide and your backs propped up against the wall. “—I’m used to beautiful deviants like you.” The thick head of his tip breaches your cunt with embarrassingly little resistance, hips shifting to meet him and a moan drags from your throat when he fit every excruciatingly perfect inch inside. “I could make you my bitch on my worst day.”

You’re prepared to answer, a snarky remark dying on the tip of your tongue when his pace starts; quick and unforgiving. It takes everything to remain rooted in place, not to float away and defy gravity because his cock felt so fucking good.

It’s primal the noises you’re making, body electrified and every touch lingers like he’d branded them on your skin. “Rhysand.”

“Can you take it, baby?” He hasn’t even broken a sweat and no amount of skimming through memories could prepare the being sharing your body for the true extent of the High Lord’s stamina. “I really hope so, ‘cause I’ve got a lot to give you.”

Something flickers in his eye; something dark and twisty, a side of him he always reigned in because not everyone was equipped to withstand such power. You could handle it though—at least you were going to try because if you though it felt good before, the pleasure increases tenfold when that power becomes a tangible thing, slinking out the shadows and latching onto you.

Your vision goes white, another orgasm being worked from you and even as you try to writhe away, the darkness keeps you in place; forcing you to take it—to take him and that perfect cock and that perfect mouth sucking his mark onto your breasts and he lets out a groan when your back arches, his teeth scraping gently against your nipple and your certain your eardrums have burst.

You can only register white noise and consistent warmth encasing your body. It take a while for your vision to focus and once it regulates, Rhysand looks no better than you; hair mussed and cheeks flushed and a quick laugh pulls from his mouth when he looks at the ground.

“I don’t see what’s funny, those were priceless artifacts—probably irreplaceable.”

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck; I’ve never come that hard in my life.” The cooling darkness is already kissing at your neck seconds later, a smirk tugged at the corner of Rhysand’s full lips. “You wanna go again?”

[pvrkacciosan]

Spiked

A/n: stay safe when going out drinking guys, this runs alongside Max's "Creepy-crawly" (The girlfriend to the opposite driver has been given names in this, simple to make it easier on myself to write.)

Synopsis: You're out on a night out, when suddenly you start to feel very strange, perhaps you shouldn't of had that last drink.

Pairing: Lando Norris X fem!Reader

Warning; Reader gets spiked at a bar, throwing up, description of a possible dangerous situation (sexual assault) mention of previous underage drinking

Word Count: 3.5K

You were in the best time of your life. How could you possible not take full advantage of that.

In your early twenties, and being a partner to a competitive Motorsports athlete, especially F1 meant you were no stranger to having a good time.

Many of you knew how to party hard. The backless pale orange top you wore was low cut around you chest and was probably your favourite outfit. Especially when matched with the pair of faux leather trousers.

As you were finishing up your makeup on the floor of your bedroom, you couldn't help but notice the presence by the door.

Lando's face was expressionless as he took you in, his eyes frantically darted from the exposed flesh of your back to the tight curve of the trousers fit over your ass.

Packing away you stuff you ignored him, simply giving him the time to take you in, you didn't put this much effort into getting ready; only to not be admired by your boyfriend.

Once everything was finally put back away inside your bag, you got up from the place in front of the wall to ceiling mirror. You could feel Lando's stare following you, but he stayed silent beyond a small groan which caused you to look up at him.

"Something wrong?" you lifted a brow in question

He shook his head, trying to be subtle as he fumbled with the rim of his hoodie, pulling the bottom further down to try and hide the obvious.

"Nothings the matter." the words were a breathless rush from his barely parted lips.

Rising up slowly, you cocked your head walking towards him, the fine lines of his body were rigid while you slide and curled your hands around his torso, he only seemed to avoid your gaze in order to compose himself,

There was an uncertain, and yet smug smirk on his expression when he finally did look down to meet your gaze.

"Everything is fine"

"Or really?" you raised a brow, innocently looking up as you slipped a hand down to toy with the band of his joggies. Lando stiffened against your body,

You slide you hand down further; he leant closer, feeling the heat of his mouth almost to yours when there was a knock on the apartment door.

When you pulled away, patting his chest lightly as you strolled past, his hand lingering on your hip until you turned down the hall, the floor was cold underfoot, grabbing for your heels as you passed the shoe rack, knowing full well who was behind the door.

You were going out for a night out with a close friend, who also happened to be dating none other than Max Verstappen.

Your prediction was correct as you unlatched the door and simply allowed it to swing open for Natasha.

"Come in, Tasha"

She strolled in, a tight fitting red dress hugging her figure. It was laced down her sides, showing the sides of her breasts, exposing the skin right down to where the dress ended about her mid-thigh.

"My god. Stunning." you leaned down to quickly put the heels onto your feet, Tasha did a twirl in the middle of the living room, showing off the outfit,

The exchange inside your apartment didn't last for long, yelling a quick goodbye, and 'love you' to Lando, You had tried to suppress the amusement when you only received a delayed response from your boyfriend,

It wasn't until you hit the clubs that, your screen lite up from a text. Lando, reminding you to stay safe, and text him when you needed taken home.

Replying in haste you got back to the night at hand. Despite being just the two of you, the nights activities never once ceased to be anything but a night to remember,

It had probably been about an hour ago that you had finally stopped feeling your feet, the pain the heels inflicted no more as the alcohol began to take root in your nerve system.

"Come on!" Tasha yelled to the DJ, she swayed beside the booth, body moving with the beat banging from the speakers beside you both.

She dragged you closer to dance, you could faintly notice the light of her phone as she filmed a video, swinging it around to get the DJ in the background.

This continued on until the bass was all you could feel in your head, but that didn't seem to faze either of you, not as you continued dancing till you felt as though your lungs might actually give out on you,

Your skin was coated in a glimmer of sweat, and the back of your throat itched for another drink. Taking hold of Tasha's arm, you signal you were going over towards the bar,

She gripped you shoulder, using the hold to pull herself closer as the bodies around you jostled you both,

"I'm going to stay here. Won't leave the booth"

You knew it was stupid to split, but this club wasn't too big and if she was within view of the DJ and other club staff, it gave you piece of mind that she should be alright for a few minutes as you got drinks.

Navigating through the bustle of warm moving bodies, towards the bar was a little more difficult then you may have originally thought, just as you were trying to get around a group of older men, a hand clasped your elbow tightly.

Spinning around the lights in the club blurred your vision at first,

"Y/n?" the male voice spoke, it took a second longer then you usually would have liked to recognise him.

"Danny!" you threw yourself at your boyfriend's former teammate, you could only just hear the Aussies' laughter over the blare of the music.

You hadn't seen the Ricciardo in so long, and as though he read your thoughts; "Your boy needs to learn to share, I never see you anymore." You snorted, holding onto his arm for support,

"Then hurry your ass up and get back on the grid"

Daniel let his head fall back to laugh, the music around you only seemed to get louder, and a buzz from the bar redirect your attention,.. Tasha!

"Will see you later, I've got to go back to find Tasha"

The lights made it only more obvious when his eyes widened and he looked around rather comically in search of the other girl,

"Tash is here too?" At his excitement you laughed, feeling the sway of alcohol grip you once more, jerking your chin towards where the clubs music was loudest.

"She's by the DJ"

Danny's beamed in excitement, "I'm going to get the others, I'll see you back there yeah?"

Before you could even agree or ask which 'others' the tall Aussies was already dancing his way back through the crowd. The bar wasn't too far from where you stood, but the distance felt much longer when trying to elbow your way into a space long enough to actually order.

When the barman, who looked far too young to sell made eye contact, you stuttered out your drink quickly, the own sound of your voice drowned out by the surroundings, it was a mystery how he even heard you.

While you waited you could only fixate on the small puddle of spilt drink on the floor at your feet. You must had walked straight into it without noticing.

The glass was in front of you on the mat in little under a minute. Reaching into your clutch to get your card, you felt two bodies on either side of you,

"Can I pay for your drink?" a stranger asked, turning slightly to him, he appeared very similar in ages with you and if you had to guess perhaps a couple years older.

He smiled sweetly to you, "Miss?"

You shook your head quickly, "I'm capable of paying myself, thank you,"

as you leaned back slightly to reach for your drink, your foot slipped out on the puddle, The man reached for you, catching around the waist to stop you from actually falling. You tried grasping out to the bar to steady yourself, dropping your phone as a result

There was a split second where your focus was not on your drink, as you could only notice how his fingers caressed the sides of your waist, raising up as firmly as you could, you jostled to ungrasp his hands from your body.

Grabbing your drink and bending to pick up the dropped phone, you thanked him quickly, before moving off into the crowd Inspecting your now cracked and wet phone. Once far enough away, you stopped; lifting the drink up to the light, there was no abnormal bubbles or decolouring. And after a quick waft, you concluded there was no strange smell other then the strong scent of vodka.

Besides he was alone, and not ever man was out to get you. You were being paranoid.

Making a final decision you took a swig. Placing your hand over the rim of the glass, you continued venturing through towards where Tasha had last been, perhaps Ricciardo was now there.

You took another quick sip, as you neared the booth, but the scene you wandered back into was not that of which you had left.

Even with the bustling atmosphere and jostling bodies around you, it was easy to pick out the distinct red of Tasha's dress, But she no longer danced, instead she was deathly still with her shoulders curled in both arms wrapped around herself,

The tall Australia driver was position at her front, his back to her. Moving closer in a haste, you bumped into a body, the man spun. Pierre Gasly, steadied you quickly,

"Here you are." he exclaimed, pulling you closer to where the others stood, you noticed a few other driver present, but they kept at a distance.

"What happened?" you leaned closer to his side, shouting to him in an attempt to get your words across to the Frenchman over the blaring sound of the music.

"Some guy touched up her dress, she hit him, he went to swing back"

Now the positioning of Tasha and Daniel made sense, Pierre stood beside Max's girlfriend, as Daniel continued to argue with the guy whom you could only presume was the creep that touched up your best friend.

Taking a sip from you glass you held it to the driver, "Hold this, I'm going to get a bouncer"

Pierre frowned at first, "I don't think it will go well, If Dan punches this guy" flicking your gaze back to where he guy got back in Daniel face, you hurried yourself away to find some security to pull this apart before it did wrong by Daniel's reputation, even though you knew for a fact that fans wouldn't be upset to discover one of their favourite drivers got into a punch up over a girls rights.

It would be the damage it might do to any future teams sighing him back onto the grid that worried you.

It was the best guess that the bouncers may be somewhere near the entrance, you were probably half the distance there when you paused, breath falling short from your lips.

Something wasn't right. You couldn't point it, but you just knew.

The lights around you began to swirl more then they had before, and upon looking down at your hand, you couldn't seem to stop the shaking no matter how hard you tried. You could hold your alcohol better then most, drinking from the age of 13 back in the UK made you familiar with the sensations of being drunk.

But this was different, very different. It was like someone had shoved your head underwater, and you whole body had been lost to the effects of gravity.

Your vision began to haze, but through the stupor of moving people, the lines of their dancing bodies a blurring; You caught the eye of a familiar face. The guy from the bar. He stood about twenty metres from you, unmoving, smirking and watching your every movement. Tracking everything to the flick of your uncoordinated hand.

The pit of your stomach dropped through you ass, as panic leapt into your throat. Pivoting around you began to make your way back to the booth, looking over your shoulder, he had moved closer.

You wouldn't make it to them intime, he would catch you before then, and with how unbridled your motions were, the world spinning on its axis around you, it was no unknown fact to you, that you would not be able to stop him if he tried anything.

Pushing through people, using the point of your elbow to dagger them from your path, you made for the wall, the light glow from the bathrooms drawing you closer. The hopeful safety it might provide taking root in your mind.

The ground was going to slip out from under you at any given second and you needed to get yourself as safe as possible before then. Falling through the doorway, the base of your heels slip out from under you.

The jolt a pain shot up your knees when it collided with the hard floor, the ground was too slick for you to grip to anything. Crawling for the nearest stall you slumped into it, kicking the door shut and then twisting to pushed against the toilet with both feet, you slammed your back into the door.

"It seems the drugs are doing their job" his voice was sly, and it shot shivers up through your body.

You could only pray your own body would stop the door from opening, as he pushed lightly against it, His laughter being the only thing to fix to as the edges of your view began to dim.

☽ - Lando- ☾

It had been hours since Lando had last heard from you, and it was beginning to set his nerves on edge. The end of his patience finally got to him, he hated to intrude on your nights out, but when you wouldn't answer his text of calls, it began to worry him.

He was pacing back and worth, tapping his phone against his palm, unlocking it he quickly clicked the call button.

Only a second when past before it connected.

"Hey Max."

"Lando?" the dutch accent came through the speaker, the noise slightly louder.

"Are you driving right now?" Max's voice sounded echoed almost, the way it does when someones phone is connected through a car.

"Yeah, I'm going to get Tasha now"

So why hadn't you called for Lando to come get you? He couldn't help but frown for a second,

"You've heard from them?"

There was a paused on the line as Max seemed to take in what Lando said, this caused the panic to spike in Lando's chest,

"No Daniel called me, wait— T-they didn't phone you?"

Why had Ricciardo called Max? why hadn't one of you done it?

"No, why? Has something happened?"

The tone in which Max spoke, made Lando stop breathing for all of two seconds. The time that did pass feeling slowed.

"Some guy was harassing Tasha." Unrivaled anger filled the pit of his stomach at the thought.

"I'm coming, past I'll swing in and get you" And with that, Verstappen hung up the call. Giving Lando time to gather himself, throwing a hoodie on and some shoes.

He was rushing down, not even locking the door to your apartment, instead letting it slam shut behind him.

Max was already waited at the road in front of the building, he opened the door from the inside for the other driver.

"Come on." it was a demand more then anything, and before he even got into the vehicle, Lando could tell; Max was pissed.

The car was revving off at speeds that could rival any set time at a Grand Prix. Lando was back again badgering your contact with messages that never seemed to be noticed.

"Fuck"

Max didn't look to him not as he drove, swerving out to overtake what seemed to be the only other car driving this late.

"I can't get through to Y/n. Was she with them when they called you?"

Lando didn't miss the way, the other drivers fist tightened, knuckled turning white around the steering wheel,

"Max?"

"No. no, she wasn't with them."

Another string of curses left him as he quickly, strolled down, clicking onto Daniel's number. It rung out completely.

"Fuck." he wanted to smash his phone. What was the point of having the means of contact if they didn't work.

"Try Pierre. He's out too." Following the Dutch drivers request, Lando managed to sieve through finding Gasly's number.

It rung a couple times before it connected. For the second of silence when it connected Lando held his breath, nothing but the noise of the cars engine roaring as Max pushed it around the street, closing in on where the strip of clubs lay.

"Hello?" he waited for a response,

Pierre voice was almost drowned out by the background noise but Lando's hand shook around his grip on the phone, "Is Y/n with you guys?"

The lack of response, made his gut drop once more for what seemed like the thousandth time. You had to be safe, you were probably just unaware of the situation.

"She went to get security. She hasn't come back yet. She-"

The response was cut off as the call disconnected, The phone trying to find signal.

There wasn't much point in trying to reconnect as Max swung the car around the corner, Club goers jumping and stumbling out the way as the car sped into their direction. It was carelessly park as Max slammed on the brake, pulling the key he was out the car in one swift movement.

Lando following suit, they were at the doors to the club, people shouted out about them jumping the que, But one look from Max and they promptly quit complaining.

Once they had hurriedly explained the situation to the bouncer the man let them through, the bigger of the two escorting them inside. The fact that the security had no clue of the situation made the worry rise inside him once more, you had never made it to the bouncers to notify them of the guy that had gone after Tasha.

It was easy to push through the crowd when they were both every bit more sober then everyone around them, People parted ways for the security, leading them for the booth.

When Lando spotted Tasha hugged beside Danny, he looked across to check on Max, but the Dutch driver was already moving, Perhaps Danny had been able to see the expression on Max's face as he moved to try and stop him.

But nothing could, not even the bouncer as Max launched for the guy which Pierre was distracting, It all assembled into chaos as Max swung for the guy.

If there hadn't been the music, Lando was sure they would have all heard the crack of the man's jaw as Max's fist collided with the bone.

The response of the bouncer was quick, already pulling Max off the guy, a few more appeared at the commotion, separating the two, but not before Max managed to get another couple punches in.

Tasha despite being visibly shaken up, Lando moved closer, Pierre appearing at his side,

"Where's Y/n?"

"She gave me her drink and left to get the security, she hasn't come back yet"

They went back and worth, trying to discover where you could have gone, Then Tasha steps forward when the light of her phone screen illuminated her face,

She quickly muttered something to Danny, the former driver looked to Lando, Taking Tasha's phone he held it for Lando to see. The screen relayed a message. Simple and concise. From you;

Bathrooms Help.

Lando was rushing towards the direction, unsure if he was being followed, he didn't care not if you were in need of help.

☽ - Y/n - ☾

Your stomach rolled but you refused to move, the man had stopped talking, but even through the haze the drugs had hold of your system, you knew you couldn't move, not if he was still sitting outside.

You had managed to get a message to Tasha, hoping she might check it, when you had dropped the device at the bar the combination of the puddle and the cracks across the screen, it wasn't displaying properly, making it near to impossible to decipher anything on the phone.

The bathroom door sounded as it swung,

"Y/N!" there was a shuffle as a guy moved through the room,

"Y/n?" the voice sounded familiar, and at some point you had begun to cry softly, feeling sick as your head continued to spin.

A gentle knock tapped against the stall door,

The muscles of your legs, gave out and you slid away from the door, allowing it to swing open behind you.

Lando knelt to you, he gripped your jaw, tilting your head to look you in the eyes.

Everything was becoming increasingly more difficult to control, head lulling back, You could faintly hear an apology from your boyfriend. You had lost all control as you felt yourself being slide around on the floor, Lando positioning you to face the toilet bowl,

"Sorry, Love."

He shoved two fingers down your throat, the gap reflex kicked in and you threw up into the toilet, vaguely aware of a hand rubbing circles into your back.

Once you had finally stopped spewing, you leaned into his leg. Resting your head back into his thigh, Lando leaned over the top of you,

"How are you feeling?"

Surprising, you felt marginally better then before, but fear still kept you on alert.

"Where is he? He was here." An aggravated sigh left Lando as he eased down to lift you up off the floor, An arm behind you back and under your knees.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, "Don't worry, he isn't going to touch you. I'll die before I let that happen." His words gave your exhausted body the safety to slump against him and rest.

Gods only knows you needed it after tonight.

.

.

.

Taglist: @80sloverry @unofficial-journalist @celestialams @mirrorball-6 @love4lando @ironmaiden1313

[love-toxin]

ELLIE!! SO happy that totk finally released bc there's a chance you might hyperfixate and give me the yandere link content that sustains my life force. oh and uh, cuz we waited so long for this game too, of course!

prrrrr i really do love yan Link! so many potential avenues! i was replaying totk recently (bc i was so excited for it i literally blazed thru the whole gam 8 days after release LOL) and some gems really cropped up:

1. Link makes you a little dream house in Tarrey Town to keep you safe and to take advantage of your inherent housewifery. He's so feral you don't even think about leaving even when he's gone for long stretches of time, because you know he'll track you down and drag you back home because you're not the hero silly! :) you stay home :) where it's safe :)

2. Yiga clan member reader who is constantly being hunted down and "rehabilitated" by the Hylian hero. Which is incredibly frustrating to you because a.) ur trying to kill him and b.) the other yiga quickly lose respect for you/shun you when they find out you're practically Link's little playtoy. Especially when he goes x2 as feral on the other yiga in battle when you're around cause he's bricked up at the very sight of you, and you end up getting chewed out by Kohga for letting him hit it and just escape afterwards.

3. You work at one of the stables or the little inn at Hateno village and Link falls so hard for you he's downright creepy. He's constantly hanging around and bringing you gifts and stuff you didn't ask for but you can't just tell him to go away cause...he's the hero. So you kinda just have to deal with his awkward stare and the fumbled kisses he steals behind the barn and try not to hurt his feelings because what are you gonna do if the hero of time decides to quit saving Hyrule because he got rejected?

4. You're part of the Gerudo/live in Gerudo town and Link is undeterred in his attempts to woo you, even though he can't step foot in town or he'll get locked up. So he either dresses up in the vai outfit or just lies in wait for you to leave the city for one reason or another, and then ambushes you and follows you around like a weird little stalker until you love him. Bonus if he scares off another suitor or saves you from a Molduga or--my personal favourite--your sand seal gets spooked and takes you far out into the desert and strands you by accident, and you're forced to accept Link's help when he comes to save you. And now, you owe him.

5. Much like Link, you're a fellow adventurer/wanderer/merchant/etc. and bump into him out in the wild. Maybe you share a campfire for a night and swap stories, or you give him directions, or you just wave at him in passing, and now Link is completely obsessed with you. He stalks you through the wild areas of Hyrule and never lets any harm befall you, be it monsters or gloom pits or pools of malice or just general unluckiness, and while you don't realize it's him you slowly feel less and less alone when you're out in the field. You swear you can even feel some kind of warmth when you lay down in your tent to sleep, like someone's curled up right next to you....

6. Link kidnaps you and takes you to Hyrule castle where he forcibly makes you pretend to be a princess. He dresses you up in pretty gowns and kills all the monsters lurking around so you'll always be safe, and he acts like you're his damsel in distress that he's constantly saving even though you're just some farmer girl he picked up off the side of the road and fell in love with. You're the pretty princess, he's your loyal knight, and if he does a really good job at "saving" you, maybe you'll let him stay in your room for the night when he keeps watch...?

[pablitogavii]

Hello,I'm not sure if you've done this but how about, meet Pablo's family for the first time?

Your new family

"Amor, you look just fine..please don't change again!" Pablo was sitting on the bed letting you show him all the little outfits you had prepared for this dinner with his parents tonight.

"But it's just too red!" you say about to walk away but your boyfriend grabbed your waist before you could do it pulling you in and making you sit on his lap. It was always hard to fight back because he was so much stronger than you but you didn't mind it.

"Red looks so good on your amor..tell me what's this really about huh?" he said tucking a piece of your curled hair behind your ear and you blush sighing deeply.

"I am nothing special..like I'm just a college girl and you're well Pablo Gavi" you say and he let you finish your thought before pulling you closer and kissing your lips.

"First of all amor, you're more than special to me. Secondly, they always wanted me to have a normal girl who grounds me just like you always do. And lastly, to those people out there I'm Pablo Gavi but to you mi amor, I'm your Pablito okay?" he said caressing your face and you felt your heart beating fast against your chest. This was just what you needed to hear right now.

"Mhm.." you just said but he wanted to be convinced you heard him.

"Okay princesa?" he asked again raising up your chin and you gave him a sweet smile.

"Okay Pablito" you say and he nods kissing your lips lovingly before letting you go finish getting ready.

When you arrived, you were very nervous playing with the edge of your dress but the moment Pablo caught that his hand held yours tightly.

He knocked and Belen opened the door with a bright smile on her face. I started to relax slowly but still worried I might say something wrong.

"Bienvenidos! Ai que guapa!" she said touching your hair and you blushed knowing enough spanish to know that she just called you beautiful.

"Mamá, íngles porf" Pablo said the woman nodded welcoming us inside. We took out shoes off and went to the dinning room where Dr. Gavira and Aurora sat.

"Welcome!" his dad tapped his shoulder and reached for your hand to kiss it. You smiled nodding your head before Aurora rushed to give you a hug. Thankfully you've met her before and you were really close friends now.

"You look great amiga. Don't be nervous!" Aurora smiled as we walked to our seats and i blushed smiling and hoping I stop feeling uptight soon.

"No need to be nervous. We are very happy Pablo found someone kind for himself." his dad added and you thanked him for the kind words.

"And very very beautiful!" Belen added and Pablo nodded touching your cheek while you blushed.

Through another hour, y'all ate dinner and chatted about random topics and you really started to feel like apart of the family. They were such warm and welcoming people that it stopped feeling like you just met them.

"And I like to clean the leaves once a week.." you were showing Belen and Aurora how you take care of plants by the window while Pablo looked at you in awe sitting with his father.

"Realmente amas a esta chica chaval." his dad said catching Pablo's attention as he stopped looking at you and turned to him.

"Que obvio eh?" Pablo said and they both laughed.

"Los ojos chico, nunca mienten.." his dad said and Pablo smiled remembering that while looking back at you as your eyes met and you gave him a sweet smile that warmed his heart and he returned it.

"Thank you so much for the dinner, it was delicious Belen. Really nice to meet you Sr. Gavira" you said as you were getting ready to leave for the night and they both gave you a warm hug thanking you for coming by.

"I'll see you tomorrow for shopping amiga?" Aurora added and you chuckled looking at Pablo who begged you to spend his free day together.

"Maybe we do it Wednesday instead huh?" you say and she smiles nodding her head and wishing you both good night.

"Thank you for choosing me princesa" Pablo said as you entered the car and you smiled nodding your head and kissing his cheek.

"You're always my first choice cariño" you smile checking the new messages in the new group chat you were added to titled 'familia' which warmed your heart.

"And you're mine princesa..I'm so proud of you for getting through it. I hope it wasn't much of a bother" Pablo said and you placed your hand on his leg as he drove.

"It wasn't a bother at all..it was such a pleasure and I am so happy they see me as family" you say and Pablo smiles nodding his head knowing he had found the one finally. No other girl did he introduce to his parents but there was no doubt you were here to stay forever by his side.

"I told you they'll love you..it's impossible not to amor" he smiled and you blushed at his comment.

"Stop it cariño!" you say and he chucked finally pulling into the parking of your apartment.

"You wanna sleep over like we planned?" you ask when he didn't turn off the car and he just shook his head which made you confused. Why did he change his mind?

"I want you to come to my home.." he said touching your hair and tucking it behind your ear again.

"Um we can do that tonight too.." you said but were quickly interrupted.

"Forever." he added and now you were shocked. Was he asking you to move in with him!?

"Are..are you sure Pablo?" you asked and he smiled nodding his head while softly caressing your cheek.

"I've been sure for months that we've been together..and after tonight I am even more sure..I want you to be by my side..forever cariño" he said and tears got to your eyes from happiness while he dried them.

"Princesita mia..no tears okay? Let's pack you and go" he said and you both got out towards your apartment happily while holding your hands.

When you arrived to his place, you were feeling new sense of love and a more intimate one. You and Pablo were finally taking a next step and it was so damn exciting and terrifying.

"Um..what about my apartment?" you say and he pulls you in kissing the top of your head.

"We'll sell it together in time. No worries. Come on, let's go to bed princesita" he said pulling you to the bedroom before you could grab your suitcase.

"Pablo, I need a pajama" you say while he started taking off your jumper making you blush.

"From now on, in OUR home..my t-shirts are you pajamas cariño" he said taking off his t-shirt and going to the closer to give you a new clean one to wear. You shamelessly checked out his muscular back. He was really your man! Fuck!

"Here you go cariño" he said giving you one of his newest white t-shirts but you weren't sure if it was alright so you asked him.

"Um maybe you have an older one Pablito?" you say shyly and he raising your chin kissing your lips in response.

"It makes it that much more expensive when my woman wears it" he said and you blushed hard. His woman..he never called you that before.

You wore the t-shirt before crawling in bed with him as he pulled you close starting to play with your hair while you stared into each other's eyes.

"What made you do this now Pablito?" you say and he smiled kissing your forehead lovingly.

"Something my dad said to me today while I watched you with my mom and Rora..he said I'm really in love with you because eyes never lie and he's right. I'm so in love with you cariño" Pablo said and you were a blushing mess leaning in and kissing his lips.

"I'm in love with you too" you say before you both cuddled up falling asleep in each other's arms happy for the start of this new chapter of your life togehter . <33

[miniteezez]

By Your Side

C.Jongho x fem!reader

Synopsis: As ateez's 9th member, jongho makes it his job to look after you always.

Warnings: reader gets hurt, bad language, injury

Happy late birthday jongho!!!

Currently, you were on the final day of shooting for the 'Dont Stop' music video. Everyone had filmed their chunks of the video except for you and mingi. You two had a scene of being thrown out of a car.

"Now then. This has to be done very carefully ok? Renea are you OK to step in?" The director turned to his assistant to help film the scene. She just hummed, glaring slightly. For some reason, you got the feeling she really didn't like you. But, pushing that aside, she was good at her job and helped where possible. Jongho was completely preoccupied. His arm was loosely around your waist, hand messing with your skirt. Since seeing your outfit for the shoot, he'd been glued to you. Wearing a ripped black jumper, it hung off your shoulder and was tucked into a short pleated skirt. With mismatched length socks, one to your thigh one to your knee, you also wore boots. He thought, no he knew you looked stunning. So much so he didn't realise he was subconsciously stopping anyone from going near you. The director called you and mingi over, jongho still unconsciously following.

"Now then. Don't actually push them. You're just there for them to act off of, ok? Mingi will go first." He explained to which she just nodded and cilmbed into the car with mingi. Everyone stood to the side, watching as they did a few takes. Mingi made it look really easy, falling effortlessly every time.

"I'm nervous." You whispered, turning to look at the taller male. Jongho smiled, kissing your head softly.

"We're all here, I'm right here. OK?" You nod quickly, reluctantly leaving his side once mingi was finished. Jongho watched as you climbed into the car and started talking to renea.

"They don't get on very well." Hongjoong commented, seeing your uncomfortable expression as the assistant spoke.

"No, they don't. I wonder why?" Seonghwa folded his arms, pouting in wonder. From the side, wooyoung giggled slightly.

"I think renea has a crush on jongho." The boys all looked at the second youngest. Most of them understanding. Jongho furrowed his brows.

"She does?"

"Yeah, she's got you as her wallpaper. I think she doesn't like (y/n) because you're so close." San observed, wrapping an arm around Woo.

"She can't handle that (y/n) is your favourite." Yeosang walked over, standing beside yunho. Rolling his eyes, jongho glanced over to you and hummed.

"Well she'll either have to get over it or leave. Because it's never going to change." The boys all smiled at their younger friend, admiring his deep connection to you. Of course you were their youngest, and they all looked over you. But you were Jonghos number one. When the music began, everyone looked over to the car. Hongjoong frowned, stepping forward and squinting to see better through the dimmed windshield.

"Is she - is she yelling at her?" It was only then the boys realised renea looked angry and could hear her raised voice. But by then, it was too late. They watched in shock as she very forcefully pushed you out of the car. You landed against the rubble with a harsh thud, curling in on yourself immediately. Hongjoong went full angry captain, storming over to the director.

"The fuck was that?" He spat to the equally shocked man. He stuttered incoherently, but Jongho wasn't paying attention to that. The minute your body hit the floor, he felt his heart drop and blood go cold. Without a second thought he was at your side. Hooking his hands under your arms, he pulled you up into his lap. Instinctively, you tucked your face into his neck and Jongho could tell you were crying. The car was quite a step off the ground and, judging by how hard you fell, he knew you'd be hurt.

"Hey, can you look at me sweets?" Gently, he cupped your cheek, bringing you to look at him. He felt instant anger at the sight of your tears, the cut on your cheek and just the hurt in your eyes. Bringing you back into his embrace, he held you protectively for a few minutes.

"Can you stand?" When you nod, jongho helped you to your feet before turning to Yeosang. Coming over, jongho urged you to the other man before making a beeline for renea.

"Why did you do that?" She just looked at him bored.

"Oh I didnt do anything. She's just being dramatic." She scoffed, having the nerve to even smile. Jonghos eye twitched, hands gripping at his coat as to not do something stupid. Seeing this, Hongjoong walked over with the manager.

"Are you so jealous that you had to throw her out onto a dirt road?" He almost laughed, if

it wasn't for the rage. Huffing , renea let out a laugh.

"As if I'd be jealous of that thing. Plus it was just my job. I dont know how you care so much. She's nothing special." Losing it, jongho launched for the assistant, only to be pulled back by the director and hongjoong.

"It wasn't your job to hurt the artist. Follow me." Your manager took her away swiftly, leaving the others to calm down the youngest male. Yeosang rubbed your back as mingi looked over your wounds with a scowel.

"We'll get you fixed up, ok?" He reassured but you just sniffled, looking past the tall man to Jongho. Exchanging a knowing look, Yeosang and mingi turned.

"Oi! Jongho!"

"Get over here!" Startled, jonho escaped the men holding him and came back. He carefully took you from Yeosang into his own arms. Both of you physically relaxed at the contact, his fingers running through your hair.

"Come on. We're done here." Hongjoong announced, leading everyone out.

Back at the dorms, no one commented as jongho took you into his room. They understood. You sat on his bed, looking down at your lap as the male grabbed some supplies. Sitting beside you, jongho lifted your legs onto his lap and frowned. Both knees were bleeding, grazes and bruises littered along your skin. He couldn't stand to see you hurt at all.

"This might sting." You pressed your head against his shoulder as the disinfectant made contact with your broken skin. Biting your lip to suppress any noises of pain, a stray tear rolled down your cheek.

"What did she say? When she was yelling at you?" He asked, wiping over your knee with care. You sniffed, wiping your face and most likely smudging your makeup. But you didn't care.

"She just, she said I was a whore. That I'm embarrassing to see." Hearing this, jongho clenched his jaw and nod slowly.

"Why did she say that?"

"Because I'm always with you. Because I'm obsessed in her eyes..." After finishing on your knee, he turned to you with a stoned face expression.

"She's jealous. You know that right?" When you just looked confused, jongho smiled and pulled out a wipe. He took it to your face to gently remove your make up.

"She wants to be you. Wants to be in your position." His voice was kind, hand moving softly along your skin.

"She likes you." You mumbled, jealousy written all over your face.

"Yeah? Well you're the only one who can have me." Making eyecontact, you blushed heavily, letting his words sink in.

"You mean?"

"Was I not obvious enough?" He chuckled, stroking your cheek tentivley. Leaning into his touch, you smiled up at him. His eyes wondered over your face, taking in every detail. Putting a hand on his neck, you drew him forward and placed your lips against his. Although initially shocked, jongho kissed back instantly. His fingers laced through your hair, pulling you flush against him. In that second, you both forgot the situation that lead you to this point. When you parted, his thumb ran across your cheek lovingly, a redness painting your face.

"I really wouldn't mind if you were obsessed with me." He smiled almost shyly, causing you to laugh quietly. Cupping his face tenderly, you kissed across his face sweetly. From his forehead to his cheek to his chin. Letting your lips linger on his, jongho felt his face wash over with red.

"I just might be." Immediately, he simpered, kissing you once again. You smiled against his lips, arms hanging over his shoulders.

Reluctantly, jongho got up, clearing his stuff away before helping you change into some comfy clothes. You crawled under the covers of his bed and waited patiently for him to also change. It didn't take long until he was climbing in beside you. He wasted no time in pulling you into his chest, allowing you to wrap yourself around him comfortably.

"Hongjoong texted. They fired renea. Which is great. But imagine her reaction to seeing us together." He smiled proudly, fingers running up and down your arm soothingly.

"I imagine she'd do worse than push me." After saying that, jonghos grip tightened.

"I'd probably kill her." He said without emotion causing you to giggle. You loved the protective side of him. Tucking your head under his chin, you sighed in content and closed your eyes.

"I think we're getting take out later." His voice was quiet, knowing you were resting.

"Noodles. Spicy." Jongho smiled at your sleepy response, lips pressing to your temple. For now, he'd hold you whilst you slept. He'd savour the feeling of knowing you were finally his.

[aylasology]

rockstar!Robin x reader

(reader is fem)

summary : Oh to be in a rockstar's arms...

warnings : mentions of smoking, drinking, cocaine, SMUT SMUT SMUTTTT

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

• You were sure you had it all figured out, a nice apartment in New York city with your best friends, a stable job, the perfect new yorker life you've been wanting the minute you stepped out your parents's home...

• until, of course, you stepped into a record store. An album and a band catching your attention.

• Take Back The Night - Hellfire

• It wasn't really the name of the band that caught your attention, there were worse names, it wasn't exactly the genre either. It was the girl standing in the front, all tall and lean. Short blonde hair teased up to the nines and bangs that draped like curtains over her blue eyes. Her arms slung on two of her members, one with long curly hair that looked like Kirk Hammett's curls, and one with much shorter hair.

• One vinyl turns into three, which then shifts to five more of the same record in different colors. You were obsessed with their music, more so on the lead singer.

• You soon learn the names of the band members and their respective roles. Robin Buckley on vocals, Eddie Munson on guitar, Steve Harrington on bass, and Dustin Henderson on drums.

• You find out that you're roommate/best friend, is covering an article on Hellfire. Getting backstage passes and two tickets to some band they're opening for.

• Of course you beg him to give you the other ticket and the extra backstage pass.

• For some odd reason you choose to go for a rather revealing look - Long leather boots, a tight red dress, and a leather jacket over it.

• It wasn't hard to keep your eyes on Robin. Wearing flare jeans, a tank top and her heartshaped glasses - a staple in her clothes.

• After the concert, you follow your best friend backstage and into Hellfire's dressing room.

• She couldn't pull her eyes away from you. How sweet and innocent you looked in your little outfit, an innocence she wanted to ruin.

• "And who's this pretty little thing?"

• She invites you to a party of theirs the minute your friend finishes his interview with them. Of course you say yes.

• The party was crowded, filled with musicians and the like. She liked having you around, making sure you were attached to her at all times.

• She definitely gropes your ass while dancing with you omgomgomgomg

• She didn't take it very well when someone pulls you away from her gaze. Some artist chatting away with you. The way her teeth clenched when a giggle erupted from your lips. She wanted that sound to come out because of her and her only.

• She pulls you into her bedroom, pinning you by the frame of the door.

• "You think you can just smile and act cute around some guy? Don't forget why you're here pretty girl."

• She kissed you powerfully, heat boiling up from your core. You moaned into it, she smirked.

• "Good girl..."

• And as much as you needed her to touch you, she pulls away. Opening the door and walking right out.

• You came home that night, lying to your friend that you had gone to a bar.

• And the days pass by so easily, getting free tickets to every gig, going to parties every single night, gaining sweet make out sessions with Robin anywhere and everywhere she wanted to have you.

• It was the 1970s of course, which meant she kissed you in bathrooms, dressing rooms, and bedrooms.

• The first time she touches you, it's after recording their next studio album, you being propped up against the desk. Hands gripped against the equipment as her fingers worked her magic on you.

• "Such a pretty little princess,"

• It's rushed, it's eager, it's hot, it leaves you satisfied right after.

• Right after that, she lets you stay over her apartment for the night

• Of course the second, and the third, and the fourth time she touches you happens there 👁️👁️

• Her touch is sweet, giving, and fucking needy.

• And the way your eyes glint and the way you beg? Gets her so turned on every time.

• But the moment you actually moan? You're just begging for it by then.

• "All this for me? Such a dirty slut..."

• "What was that honey? Use those pretty little lips of yours f'me..."

• She definitely likes sniffing cocaine on your belly, licking the skin once she's finished.

• She'd get on top of you right after, hips straddled on yours as she kissed you. Pushing her tongue in your mouth, letting the taste land on your tongue.

[lousypotatoes]

And I'm Ready For Love

Song Recommendation:

All Alone - Al Jolson

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

90 years ago...

The flower shop had mostly been today, only a few customers coming in.

All throughout the day, Y/N waited patiently for Alastor to show up. Alastor never showed up at a specific time, he just showed up a random time.

As the shop was ten minutes away from closing, Y/N was starting to feel sad. Since they met at her shop, he hadn't missed a single day.

"Maybe he's just busy," Y/N muttered to herself. "I'll see him tonight, so it's fine."

As she started to close up the shop, her heart began to pound rapidly, despite the date not being three hours away.

She started walking home as fast as she could, wanting to get home and get ready. She already had her outfit picked out and she had an idea of how she wanted to do her makeup and her hair, but she knew that she was going to make some changes.

Y/N got home and immediately went into her bedroom, after giving Honey a quick pet, of course.

She got rid of her work clothes and put on her dress, admiring the way the dress hugged tightly around her body and showing off her curves. She picked out this dress because it was red, and she knew that red was Alastor's favorite color.

Moving on to her makeup, she started applying her blush when she noticed her hands were trembling. Y/N didn't realize how nervous she was until now. Taking deep breaths, she attempted to calm herself down. When she did, she finished applying her blush and moved on to her mascara.

Looking at the clock on the wall, her eyes widened, seeing she only had forty-five minutes left to get ready.

'How did the time go by that fast?' Y/N thought, grabbing her curling iron.

As fast as she could, she curled her H/C hair, concentrating hard not to burn her fingers.

At last, Y/N finished getting ready, with five minutes left to spare. Going out in the living room, she put on her gloves and her heels and waited patiently in the living room.

As she waited, she got to thinking. It had been a while since Y/N had been on a real date. The only dates she had been on were with targets, who people had hired her to kill. And obviously, Y/N wasn't going to kill Alastor. She really hoped that it would go well.

A knock at the door and the sound of Honey barking interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh dear," she muttered, getting up from the couch, walking over to answer the door.

"Alastor!" she said, opening the door. "You've arrived right on time!"

"Well, it would of be impolite of me to show up late," Alastor said, handing Y/N a bouquet of Daisies. "These are for you, my dear."

A genuine smile placed itself on Y/N's lips. Alastor quite liked the sight of it.

"Oh, you remembered," she said in awe. "Thank you so much, Alastor."

"There's no need to thank me," Alastor waved off. "I knew you would like them."

"Oh, where are my manners," Y/N said, stepping aside. "Please, come in while I find a vase for these flowers."

"Thank you, dear,"

Alastor stepped inside, admiring the her house while Y/N looked for a vase.

Looking around, Alastor's eyes landed on Honey, who was staring at him, growling.

"Oh, who is this little creature?" Alastor asked.

"That's Honey," Y/N said, finally finding a vase. "She's friendly. Feel free to pet her if you want."

Alastor sat down on her couch, Honey immediately dropped the 'tough guy' act and crawled onto his lap.

"You're a charming little thing, aren't you?" Alastor cooed, scratching Honey behind the ears.

Y/N smiled at the interaction, as she put the flowers and some water in the vase. "I've had her since she was a pup," she explained. "She'll be turnin' eleven in a few weeks."

"Eleven years old?" Alastor said, surprised. "She doesn't have a single gray hair on her body."

"I get that response all the time," she giggled. "Ready to hit the road, Al?"

"If you are, then yes," Alastor said, removing Honey from his lap.

"Goodbye, my love," Y/N cooed, patting Honey on the head. "I'll be home later tonight.

Alastor grinned, seeing how much you she adored and loved her dog. While he was looking, his eyes began to wander, not in a sexual way, but in 'oh my goodness she looks so gorgeous,' way. The way the light of the room made the dress look even more beautiful.

"Beautiful," Alastor muttered.

"What was that?"

"I forgot to mention," Alastor cleared his throat. "You look positively radiant, my dear."

Y/N hoped that the darkness of the night sky would hide her blush. "Thank you, Alastor. You don't look that bad yourself."

"The means the world coming from you dear," he chuckled.

"Where exactly are you takin' me?" Y/N asked, curiously.

"Well, since I invited for a drink," he said. "It's only natural that I'm taking you to a bar."

Y/N blushed, feeling embarrassed for asking such a stupid question. "I apologize for askin' such a simple question," she laughed awkwardly.

"There's no need to apologize, dear," Alastor said, smiling. "I found it quite adorable, actually."

"You sure do have a way with words, don't you?" she rolled in her eyes in a playful way.

"That depends," he said. "Is it working?"

"Maybe,"

Alastor grinned at the two of them flirting.

"We should be arriving in a few minutes," Alastor said, looking at his watch. "I hope it hasn't been too much of a walk for you."

"I've walked around New Orleans more time than I can count," Y/N frowned, crossing her arms. "I reckon I'll be fine."

"I didn't mean any offense," Alastor said at once, seeing the frown on her face. "I just wasn't certain if you were used to walking or not, my apologies for any misunderstanding."

"It's fine, Al," she said. "At least you had the decency to apologize. Most men just think I'm a delicate little flower."

"Any sensible man would be daft to perceive you in that way, my dear," he said as the two of them approached the bar. "We're here by the way."

"Really?" Y/N gasped in fake surprise. "I didn't know that."

Alastor smirked. "Just making sure your eyes are in working condition, dear"

"I reckon my eyesight is better than yours," she laughed as they headed into the bar.

Looking around the place, Y/N saw that it just looked like a regular bar, just a little bit cleaner than the ones she as so used to. There were people drinking, dancing, and socializing with their friends or dates.

"You come here often?" Y/N asked as they walked over to the bar.

"As often as I can," Alastor said. "A very good friend of mine actually owns the place."

"What can I fetch for you, ma'am?" the bartender asked, wiping down the bar surface.

"Just a spot of whiskey would be nice, thank you kindly."

"And for you, sir?" the bartender asked Alastor.

"I'll have what she's having."

"Coming right up,"

"I didn't know you drank whiskey," he said as the bartender began pouring the drink.

"Ah, well," Y/N said as the bartender gave them their drinks. "I am full of mysteries."

"And I look forward to uncovering each one," he said as he sipped on his whiskey. Y/N almost choked on her drink.

Just as Alastor was about to pay, a voice distracted him.

"Alastor! I can't believe you didn't say hi to little ol' me!"

Looking over Alastor's shoulder, Y/N saw a short, blonde, and plump woman wearing a flapper dress walking towards them.

"Mimzy!" Alastor exclaimed. "I didn't know you'd be working this evening!"

"Yeah well, some bitch decided to quit, so now I'm stuck takin' over her shift," she said, eyes landing on Y/N. "Oooooh, is this Y/N?"

Alastor immediately felt his face flush, forgetting that he talked a lot of Y/N to Mimzy. He cleared his throat. "Yes indeed!" he said. "Y/N this here's Mimzy, the close friend I was just telling you about."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mimzy," Y/N said, offering her hand for Mimzy to shake.

"The pleasure's all mine, doll," Mimzy said, eagerly shaking Y/N's hand. "Any pal of Alastor's is a friend of mine!"

Y/N looked up at Alastor with a smug grin knowing that he talked about to her Mimzy. She was sure gonna tease him about it later.

"You didn't tell me she was so fetchin', Al," Mimzy said, nudging Alastor in the ribs. "Where have you been hidin', sweetie?"

"In my floral shop," Y/N laughed awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. Since Mimzy was one of Alastor's close friends, she wanted to make a good first impression on her but didn't know.

"Alastor's always praisin' you, ya know?" Mimzy said, making Y/N blush, glancing up at Alastor again, she saw he was also blushing "Talkin' 'bout your shop, your wit, your looks-"

"I think that's enough, Mimzy," Alastor said suddenly. "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I would like to carry on with our evening."

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was talkin' too much," Mimzy waved off. "I've got some business to attend to anywho. The drinks are on the house for you two the rest of the night." she said, walking off.

"Sorry about her," Alastor grumbled. "She can be a tad overwhelming at times."

"No need for apologies," Y/N giggled. "I quite liked talking to her.

Alastor's frown turned into a grin. "Well, I'm glad! I was hoping you two would hit it off!"

"So," Y/N said, sipping on her whiskey. "Exactly how much do you talk about me, Al?"

Alastor choked on his drink. "You-You heard that?"

"It was kind of hard not to hear,"

"This is quite embarrassing," Alastor said, flustered, pulling on the collar of his shirt while Y/N giggled. "Care to dance?"

"Why of course,"

There were fifteen minutes left until the bar closed. Almost everyone else had gone home, but not Y/N and Al. In those five hours they were there, they had rotated between drinking at the bar and dancing on the dance floor.

The two of them were currently sitting on a couch by the dance floor.

"How are you not drunk?" Y/N asked, taking a drag off her cigarette. "You've knocked back at least five shots of whiskey."

"I've got quite the alcohol tolerance," Alastor said, blowing out some smoke. "What about you, dear? You've downed just as much whiskey as I have."

"Same as you," Y/N said, putting out her cigarette. "But I reckon my tolerance might just be higher than yours."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe,"

"Ah, perhaps another time, seeing as the bar is about to close," he said, also putting out his cigarette. "Care for one last dance?" he said, offering his hand for her to take.

"Why not?" Y/N said, taking his hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

As soon as they started dancing, the previous song ended and Singin' In The Rain started playing.

"What a stroke of luck!" Alastor said as the two of them swayed. "Your favorite tune is playing!"

"Looks like luck's on my side then," Isabell giggled, letting Alastor dip her. "Thanks for takin' me out tonight, Al. I'm havin' a real good time."

"I'm enjoying myself too, dear," he smiled. "If anything, I should be thanking you for accepting my invitation."

The two of them remained quiet for the rest of the song, enjoying each other's presence. After the song ended, Mimzy kicked them out of the bar since it was closing, and Alastor walked Y/N home.

"Y'know, you didn't have to walk me home," Y/N said as they walked out of the bar. "I ain't far from here."

"It's no trouble at all," Alastor waved off. "Besides, I don't live too far from you anyway."

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked, worried. "I wouldn't want you to have to walk by yourself all by yourself in the middle of the night."

"Your kind to be concerned, Y/N," he said in a soft voice. "But I assure you, I'll be just fine."

"Alright," she said. "Thank you for walkin' me home, by the way."

"It's no trouble at all, really," he laughed lightly. "Just dawned on me, that was the first time we've talked outside the flower shop."

"I didn't even think about that," Y/N chuckled. "Guess I got too caught up in tonight's excitement."

"If you're up for it," Alastor said, looking down at her, blushing. "Perhaps we could start meeting up outside the flower shop more?"

Y/N's face was on fire. She had hoped he would ask that but didn't actually prepare herself for when he asked that question. "I'd like that a lot," she said, looking up at him.

"Excellent!" he grinned as they reached Y/N's front porch. "My broadcast tomorrow is around 2. If you're free, would you like to grab some lunch with me?"

"Yeah, I'd love too," she said, a cheesy grin on her face. "My lunch break is around noon, we can go then if that works for you."

"Thats perfect! I'll meet you at the flower shop at noon." Alastor said, taking Y/N's hand in his. "Sleep well, my dear, and once again, thank you for agreeing to spend the evening with me."

He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them softly.

"Good night, Y/N,"

"Good night, Alastor"

sorry that it took me a little bit to upload 😭

i'll try to get the next chapter uploaded tomorrow to make it up to ya'll i promise

stay safe and drinks lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust

@trippoverrt

@slytherin4ever

@lucifers-silhouette

@a-small-tyrant

@leviwife1

@mo-0-o

@cutiebimbo

@mommymilkers0526

@mikariell95

Sorry I had to do it like this. For some reason, If I did it the way I usually do, the usernames don't show up 😭 I don't know if it's something I'm doing wrong, or if Tumblr is just being weird.

[fromabasementonthehilll]

Hey <3 I really liked your dating headcannons for Nat could you do one for lottie 💕

Lottie Headcanons

͙⁺･༓☾ - Summary: Lottie dating headcanons

Pairing: Lottie Matthews x reader

Warnings: ...

note: I used occasionally fem gendered words to describe reader since that's what most of my requests are about, hope you don't mind just read it whatever way fits you and I hope you like it 🧡

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

⋆ Her vocab towards you definitely consists of weird ass pet names that you begged her not to say in public - she would call you shit like 'honey boo pookie bear', you honestly didn't even know if she was joking

⋆ Sleepovers were always at her house considering how big it was and her parents were always away, she probably hasn't even been to your house before

⋆ Lottie would always tell you how much she missed you, despite you guys literally talking everyday - you thought it was cute though, on top of the pet names

⋆ When she'd get jealous (which happened often), she would trail around you like a lost puppy and constantly ask you "Who is this person? Do they like you? Do you like them??" Even if it was someone she knew well. She never let her guard down when she saw you talking 'too much' to someone, it's like you could sense her spite towards them, she'd give them the meanest look known to man

⋆ Her jealousy wasn't bothering to you, though you always wanted to reassure her. So when you would compliment her pretty brown eyes or her perfectly curled hair you knew how appreciative she would be

⋆ You were always showered with compliments and very expensive gifts, she'd tell you how gorgeous your eyes were, the way she loved how your outfit complimented you and she always notices when your hair looks nice, sometimes even secretly asking you what you're going to wear beforehand so she could match you

⋆ The gifts she would give you were random, out of the blue. You could be in the changing rooms after practice, sweaty and tired, and she would show up with a diamond necklace and a ring to go with it; it kind of scared you, I mean that many gifts was crazy to you, but you eventually got used to it and how she would always look forward to the massive grin you had on your face when you opened them

⋆ Lottie is really altruistic towards you and only you, even before you two started dating you noticed how she would fix her makeup and hair right before going out with you, the way her eyes would light up at the sight of you. She constantly showed you how grateful she was for you being there for her, and you did the same

⋆ She's also really affectionate, I mean before you met officially you saw how polite but distant she was with people, she was fun to be around but never showed the kind of love she showed towards you to anyone else. She would hug you at random times, sneaking up behind you, and would kiss you all the time. The entire day she would be thinking about you, you always looked forward to seeing her and falling into her embrace.

⋆ When it came to more intimate stuff she was always there for you despite how insecure you'd feel. She would turn off the bright lights and make you feel like the luckiest girl on earth

⋆ Fights with her weren't easy, she was definitely way too jealous when things got heated. It was hard to prove her wrong since nothing could convince her, you two wouldn't talk for a couple days all while she would give you weird glances when she would see you around school. She would ask your mutual friends, "Is (y/n) still mad at me? I can't believe it, I mean what did I even do? Could you tell her to talk to me please?"

⋆ The arguments were mostly about you 'ignoring' her when your life got busy, you never did actually ignore her you were simply too preoccupied with school and such. The periods of no communication wouldn't last long at all, she loved you too much to not talk to you, it was always her coming up and apologising to you even if you started the argument

⋆ The first time she said she loved you was after you stayed at hers, upset about something your parents did that day. She brought you hot chocolate, set up a movie for you and her, wrapped you in a million blankets and snuggled up to you. To her knowledge, you had fallen asleep, and she quietly whispered the words while you leaned your head on her shoulder. You weren't asleep, though. You had heard it all

[apple-orchards-writings]

two hubbies that co-own you :) they pamper you and organize sacrifices while you fall asleep in their laps <3

^^^^^^^ IF YOU DON'T ELABORATE ON THIS I. WILL. PERISH!!! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE APPLE YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THAT REPLY GOT ME JSJBDBRBDJRJR

Every morning you wake up, in both of your lovers' arms. Everything feels right with the world. You try to get up and get dressed, but they don't want you to, stay in bed with them and enjoy the morning, who cares if they have duties. After you manage to convince them to get out of bed (probably after some morning sex, let's be real), they'll bicker over what jewellery you should wear the gold one with white accents or the black one with green accents.

They ultimately settle on both, complete with your usual collar, both of their names written on the little tag. Before they can start fighting on what you wear, you call in your handmaidens, and they help you choose a nice outfit, not too revealing, but still enough for your picky lovers to be satisfied. The next step is to have a nice breakfast, and today it's Sydney's turn to have you on his lap, though you both know that by the end of the meal, Kylar will have joined you, envious as he is.

When you move to the audience room to hear petitioners, you move next to Kylar's seat, and he enthusiastically grabs at you, dragging you in his lap and holding you there so you can fall asleep in his arms. He keeps you there for the rest of the morning, barely even listening to the people making demands, more focused on your steady breathing and the way you look so sweet and pliant, just for him (and Sydney).

Lunch time comes around, and Kylar wakes you up, smiling down at your sleepy face. All three of you get a nice lunch in the boudoir, your lovers refusing to let you do the slightest bit of work, insisting on feeding you. Usually this would also be a time to have some fun, but you're a bit too sleepy for that today, maybe later.

You let yourself drift off a little more in your lovers' embrace for a little longer, until you have to move to another part of the temple to witness the sacrifices. Not your favorite part of the day, but it is necessary, and Kylar will not let you skip out on it. You're about to get up when Sydney gathers you up in his big beefy arms and smiles down at you, carrying you to the altar room.

There, in between the two thrones, sits a nice, comfortable bean bag with a blanket, which you promptly wrap yourself in, curling up while you let Kylar do all the talking. His hand comes down to pet your head, brushing through your hair, and you lean into it before grabbing one of the books you left here last time, and diving into it, forgetting all about the sacrifice. You're only taken out of it when hearing the screams of the victim, but Sydney covers your eyes and shushes you gently when you turn to look, not to protect your innocence really, but mostly to have your full attention on him.

He motions for you to sit on his lap, and you climb to sit, facing him. You don't have to wonder what compelled him to ask you for long, because he's already grinding on you, not focusing on anything around the two of you anymore. He's panting quietly in your ear, hands holding onto your hips to push you down on him, telling you to be quiet in hushed whispers. You look to your left, and Kylar is struggling to not stare at you, you can see his jaw clenching and his fists crunching up his robes.

Sydney's going faster now, biting his lip to try and stay silent, and you can feel his hard on now, even with the robes in the way. Your little gasps and whimpers have not escaped Kylar's notice, and he seems to have teared up his robes with how hard he's clutching them. You reach out to at least hold his hand, which he gratefully takes and brings to his mouth, sucking on your fingers.

Sydney's noticed your little noises too, and decides to kiss you to shut you both up effectively, which works a little, until he's biting and sucking at your lip. His hand moves to disrobe himself slightly, making you feel the heat of him even more. When you expect it to move away when he's done displacing his clothing, he instead takes the opportunity to slip his hand in your underwear, stroking at your core.

He's now sucking on your neck uncaring of any moans that slip out of you. His only goal is to make you cum now, he needs you to finish before him. He speeds up, his hand moving even faster and his hips thrusting harder. In a few short strokes, you come undone, and he allows himself to let go, ruining your outfit.

Before you can turn around to face the group of flustered cultists, you hear Kylar order for the proceedings to finish immediately, before he takes you from Sydney's arms and carries you to the bedchamber. He's determined to have his turn.

Once you're done with that, which is to say, a few hours later, you rejoin Sydney in the dining room, finally getting your own chair for the first time today. All three of you discuss advancements in the cult or the book you're reading lately, basically making pleasant conversation, before you're done eating and servants come to take away the empty plates.

You're then guided to your private bathroom by your lovers, who insist on holding your hands, even if you remind them you know where it is by now. They help you undress and wash, fondly lathering you in soap as you return the favor, fooling around and splashing each other, leaving responsibilities behind, in this moment you three can just be loving, and not care about the world outside. There are no fights, no arguments here, only tenderness and pure unadulterated love.

When all of you are squeaky clean and the water is getting cold, you relocate to your bedchambers, where you can prepare for a full night's rest, if nothing, or rather no one, disturbs your sleep tonight. You slip into bed, awaiting your lovers to cuddle and let yourself drift off in their arms again, until you wake up the next morning, ready to tackle the next day.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - chapter four

well it’s love, make it hurt series

four: some place we can be ourselves

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: The Mandalorian buys you a present.

Warnings: BDSM, Dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Din and sub!reader, soft Dom!Din, pain play, nipple play, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), collaring (collar in the moodboard is not completely what I wanted. tell me not to have it commissioned just for the purpose of a photo lol), some feelings

Originally written for Kinktober 2023 - Day 6: Collar, inspired by @absurdthirst's wonderful prompt list, without which I probably would not have written anything.

also on ao3

3 ABY - Fall

Neither of you were squeamish; you couldn’t be. Injuries were inevitable in your line of work. You had seen Mando burn his skin back together. He had seen you stitch up a gash on your leg.

So why was the slowly fading ring of bruises around your neck so hard for him to look at? Was he still mad about the botched job and your behavior that night? Or did it simply disgust him to see marks on you made by any other hand?

Whatever it was, he needed to get over it. The worst damage had been healed by the bacta spray on the first night, and you refused to waste more over bruising.

You were starting to get mad, now that you thought about it. You had just been examining the wounds in the mirror of the fresher. You had just gotten out, dried off, and dressed when you caught sight of your reflection.

You were up on your toes, neck craned to see around the sides. It was healing up nicely. You ran your fingers over the delicate skin, and it was far less tender. It was almost pleasant, the dull ache when you pressed on them.

Mando chose that moment to walk past. He stopped, staring at you for a half second, and hit the button to close the fresher door on you.

“Hey!” you smacked the door with your hand. “What was that for?”

But when it slid back open, the hull was empty.

You were heading out in the morning for a hunt, one that promised a challenge. As glad as you were for an interesting job, it also meant you and Mando were essentially hands-off until there was a new carbonite slab on the ship.

So really, he was going to have to get over it or live without getting his dick wet for another week. Given the voracity of his libido so far, the latter seemed unlikely.

While Mando putters around in the hull eating his dinner, you curl up in your seat in the cockpit with a book on the datapad. Your routine had settled quietly into this rhythm—he could eat without rushing, you could read without him groping at you, and you both got time alone. For two people who had been mostly solitary before, it was invaluable.

“I’m running into town,” he calls up the ladder.

“What? What for?” you yell back, but it's drowned by the pneumatics of the ramp. “What the fuck?” you say to the empty ship.

By the time he returned, the suns had set, and the moss-dripping trees outside were thick and dark. You had dozed off in your seat, feet tucked under you and head resting on your folded arms. The datapad had slipped down between your knee and the seat.

He shook your shoulder, and you stirred. Not for the first time, you marveled at how deep you could sleep here. How you had stopped flinching for your blaster. You blink up at him, a smile breaking out, until you remember why you had fallen asleep there.

“Hey, what the kriff was that? You just took off, like—” You helpfully demonstrate with a little wave of your hand and a whoosh.

He stares down at you, head cocked, hand still on your shoulder. “What’s with the outfit?” He waves a hand at you in what you're sure is a rude mockery of your previous gesture.

Oh, right. The outfit. It didn’t seem so clever now. You had wrapped yourself in an elaborate headscarf that hung over you like a hood with a tasseled cowl. And, well, nothing else. Your blanket had slipped when you sat up.

You were supposed to be waiting for him bare. Accessible. Ready. And to the little bratty voice in the back of your head that was so mad at him earlier, this was compliant. He didn’t say you couldn’t accessorize. It wasn’t denying him access to your body.

Right now, though, as he put a hand on one hip and glared down at you, it felt like maybe you were in trouble.

“I, um.” Stars, why did you think this was a good idea? You thought you could confront him about the bruises and maybe get a little roughed up in the process. And you would have enjoyed it earlier, but now, suddenly, it feels like you might cry if he yells at you.

He hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. You know when you’re being given a second chance, so you swallow hard and look back up at him.

“I’m sorry. I was kind of trying to push you, it seemed like a good idea, but I don’t want to anymore, I promise.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why did I want to, or why do I not want to?”

He sighs heavily. “Why did you want to?”

You look down at where the datapad is lodged, picking at the edge of the cushion with your nail. “I was trying to make you mad,” you mumble.

He tilts your chin up with a bare hand. You hadn’t even noticed him take the gloves off, but it feels so nice that you almost forget you're trying to talk your way out of trouble.

“Sweetheart. Why would you want me to be mad at you? If you want me to hurt you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

At the low rumble of his wicked words, you no longer feel the cold of the cockpit. Your mouth waters, and you’re hyper-aware of how hard your nipples are, how exposed.

“I—kind of? No, I mean—” You can’t concentrate anymore. His finger that was stroking your cheek brushes across your bottom lip, and you open automatically, waiting. Begging. He pulls it away, and you whine.

“Hmm. Not yet. I want you to finish explaining yourself.”

“I had hurt feelings.” It punches out of you, and you’re mortified to realize it's the truth. You had been telling yourself you were mad, and maybe you were, but you had been lashing out like a hurt massiff.

Mando squats down beside the chair, and you turn, crossing your legs so you can face him. “What did I do that hurt your feelings, pretty girl?”

“It’s stupid, I’m being stupid. I’m—”

His hand snaps out, and unlike the gentle touch earlier, he grips your jaw tight before slapping you sharply across the face with his other hand. You yelp, more from surprise than pain.

“What have I said about that? Are you allowed to talk about yourself that way?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“And why not?”

“Because I’m yours, and if I’m disrespecting myself, it means I’m disrespecting you.” It was a lesson you had learned over his knee on more than one occasion.

“Good girl. Now tell me why you’re upset.”

“It’s like you can’t even look at me anymore, when you can see my neck. I’m sorry I fucked up; I’m sorry it’s ugly. I thought if I covered it up, maybe, maybe…”

Your words die in your throat as he stands up off the floor, rubbing a tired hand over his helmet. He snaps his fingers, jerking a thumb toward the pilot seat. “Get up, c’mon, I’m not doing this here.”

You scramble to your feet, confused and a little scared. Doing what? Oh, kriff, what had you gotten yourself into?

“Grab your pillow, baby,” he called from across the room without looking.

You double back for it. He was settled in his chair when you reached him, so you let it fall with a soft thwomp before lowering yourself to your knees.

“Look at me,” he orders. “And take that off.”

Fuck. Someday you’d get it through your head and stop giving in to the urge to hide. He hated it, but it was one of the few holdups you still had.

When you obey, tossing the scarf out of sight, he reaches down and wraps his hand around the side of your neck, avoiding most of the bruising. “I didn’t look because I didn’t want you to be disgusted by me.”

You furrow your brow, opening your mouth to speak, but thinking better of it.

“You were so upset about what happened on that hunt. And I hate that it was someone else who put those there. But stars, baby, do you look beautiful all marked up. I want to sink my hands in until you’re wearing my fingerprints all the time.”

Your mouth falls open, throat dry, and you shift around on your knees. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What, no. Just. Fuck, that’s so hot.”

He leans back, studying you. “You know, I never want you to try something you’re not comfortable with just because it’ll please me.”

“I’m not, I swear. I couldn’t stop looking at them in the mirror and wishing it had been you.”

He swears darkly, leaning forward so suddenly you flinch back a little. His hand cups your cunt between your spread legs, and he swipes a finger through your folds and holds it up. It’s soaked. He chuckles. “Good girl,” and shoves the finger between your lips with no pretense.

You close your lips around the digit, sucking and watching him through wide eyes. You whine when he pulls it out.

“As much as I would like to mark you up, cyar’ika, it’s not safe. But I did have an idea for something almost as good.” He reaches into a pouch on his belt and holds up a strip of leather.

It doesn’t register right away. You stare at it and then at him. He holds it out to you flat on both hands, and you gasp. You've never seen one outside of the holos he's shown you, but you recognize it all the same.

The leather is soft and supple in the same brown as his bandolier. It has a simple double-loop closure. You run your fingers over it for a moment before he snatches it back to dangle it just out of your reach.

“I take it you like it.”

You hold your hands in your lap, biting your bottom lip and whining. He laughs and runs a hand through your hair.

“You want it, sweetheart? Want to wear my collar so everyone knows you’re mine?”

“Please,” you beg over and over.

“You are mine, right? My sweet, obedient girl.”

“Yes, sir, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

He laughs. “Of course you will, needy thing. You’re already all mine. Look at you, trying so hard to please me.”

Your face goes hot. After the last few months of him talking to you like this, you thought you’d stop being embarrassed, but it only seems to get worse.

“C’mere,” he says, voice softer as he leans back. “Want you up here so I can see.”

You scramble onto his lap, straddling him. He pulls you closer so your wet cunt smears where he strains against the flight suit, and you moan.

“Can I put it on you?”

You’re already whispering a litany of pleas before he finishes the sentence.

You stop breathing when he reaches around you, holding as still as you can. You want to feel every second of it. He gently lifts your hair out of the way to settle the strap behind your neck before pulling the ends to meet in the front. He slides it into place, tucking two fingers between the collar and your neck.

“How’s it feel, ner cyare?”

You don’t ask about the new Mando’a. He’s never told you what cyar’ika means, either. Not that you’ve asked. He says it with enough fondness that you trust it’s not mean, and this sounds the same. Not that you aren’t curious. But the only things you know about Mandalorians are things he’s told you of his own volition, and you’re afraid to push.

Your eyes are watering. You trace your fingers over the collar with shaky hands. You’re terrified, actually, because this feels like something heavier than the other ways you play. “I love it,” you whisper.

He tugs on it, yanking you closer to him, before pulling it back, grinning at the way you let your body be moved at his will. “I think I like this a lot.” He holds you in place with it, pinching and tugging on your nipples. He gives your tits a few sharp smacks to feel the way you jerk in his lap.

“Ready for me, baby?” he teases.

You know it’s rhetorical, especially given that he’s already pulled his cock out, but you moan a “yes, please, sir,” just to see the way it makes him twitch. He smacks your clit twice with the head of his cock and then just shoves it all the way in.

He tugs the collar, pulling you to bend forward at an awkward angle.

“Watch, pretty girl. Look how greedy your little pussy is. Look how well you take me.”

You can’t look away. He’s splitting you in half, the pressure sharp and incredible, but you’d never know it from the way your walls and lips are hugging his shaft, beckoning him in. He flicks your clit while you’re watching, but you still jerk back at the sting. You’re stopped short by the collar, and he laughs and does it again.

He pinches and twists at it while you make broken little sounds, moans and cries, and you squirm to get out of range of his cruel fingers. But you can’t. He’s got you pinned so well between the cage of his thighs, bent up behind you, and the grip on your collar.

He only takes pity on you when he moves his attention back to your swollen nipples.

“S’it hurt?” he pants.

You whimper.

“Really? 'Cause you’re fucking soaked, cyar’ika, and your cunt keeps squeezing me so tight. I think you like it.” He flicks your nipple to punctuate his words.

“I do, I do like it, please. Like anything you do to me.”

“Those are dangerous words, sweetheart.”

“Nuh-uh,” you grunt, face twisting as he tugs hard before switching back to your clit. “Nnn. Trust you.”

He pinches a little harder than he means to, struck by the sweet way you bare yourself to him. His fingers dip down to gather some of the slick you’re leaking around his cock, and he brings them back up to your clit, rubbing firm, tight circles.

He drops your collar and grabs your jaw, pistoning his hips up harder so the wet slap of your bodies echoes in the cockpit. “Whose cunt is this?”

“Yours, sir,” you gasp.

“Yeah? Whose beautiful, perfect slut is this?”

“Yours, sir.”

“Cum for me, cyar’ika.” He presses down hard on your clit, and his hips stutter when you immediately clench down, body jerking. He grabs you by the collar and holds you upright so you don’t fall as you twitch and scream.

He doesn’t ease up, rubbing hard at your clit. “Another one. Now.”

You don’t know how he does it. You never have to force it. He knows your body like his armory, knows how much pressure it takes to pull the trigger, knows right when to fire. You’ve never not cum when he commanded.

“Down,” he snaps after you’ve come apart on him a few more times over.

You slide off immediately, sinking down onto the pillow, mouth open and tongue out. Your hands lay in your lap, palms up, and you even remember to keep your eyes open.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he groans, stroking himself furiously before shoving into your throat as he spills. You take it all, eyes on him as you watch him fall apart for once. His shaky hand strokes through your hair as he comes down before settling around your neck just below the collar.

He pulls you back up into his lap, askew so your legs dangle over one side of the chair, and he can tuck your head against his chest. You’re shaking and softly crying as he wraps you up in your forgotten blanket.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “And cyar'ika?”

You look up at him, sniffling and trying to blink back the last of your tears.

“You did so good telling me when you were upset.”

You bury your face in his unforgiving chest plate, and he allows you the moment to hide. Someday, he thinks, maybe you’ll believe him.

*Title from "Beat Up Car" by Taking Back Sunday. (what is the Razor Crest if not a beat up car persevering?)