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pucksandpower · 3 months

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Brake Balance

Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader

Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser

Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder

You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.

You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.

There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” You say playfully.

Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”

You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”

“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”

His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.

Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.

Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.

The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.

“Be safe out there,” you say softly.

He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.

“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.

You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.

The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.

“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.

Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.

“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.

“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.

The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”

Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”

“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.

“Around 100 degrees.”

You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.

“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.

Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.

In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.

Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.

Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.

While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.

With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.

***

The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”

“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”

You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.

“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”

Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”

“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”

“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”

“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.

A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.

“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.

“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”

He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.

“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”

Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.

“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”

He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.

“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”

You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”

Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”

You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.

“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”

Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.

Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.

***

After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.

The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.

“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”

You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”

You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.

“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.

“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”

His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.

“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”

As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.

“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”

You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”

Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.

“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”

Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”

Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”

You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.

“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”

He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.

“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”

You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”

Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.

“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”

He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”

In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.

“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”

Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.

“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”

Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.

“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.

You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …

“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”

You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”

He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”

You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.

“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”

The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”

In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.

“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”

Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.

“It was ...”

He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.

“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.

“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.

“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”

Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.

“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”

The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.

Or so he thinks.

Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.

Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.

For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.

Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.

Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.

And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.

By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.

For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.

Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.

Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.

With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.

***

Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.

Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.

You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.

Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.

“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.

Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”

You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”

Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”

You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”

Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”

Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”

Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.

You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.

Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.

“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.

In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.

The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.

The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.

“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.

“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”

You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.

Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”

You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.

“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.

You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.

But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.

So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.

He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.

So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.

Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.

1K notes · View notes

fir3ylolol · 7 months

Text

smile! you're on camera

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Staying at Johnny's house is really nice, except...something feels a little off. You find out the hard way when you decide to entertain yourself on the couch.

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, making out, face fucking, sex tape, dom/sub, switch!reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, sex in a theater, i physically cant write men who dont whine, he needs pussy!, afab!reader, he wants you so bad omg, smut, shameless smut, porn with light plot

a/n: hehehehehehe...this is inspired by the voice clip in the invasion mode of mk1 where he says he has cameras everywhere. ive been rly inspired lately, but im gna open up requests on here soon, so keep an eye outtt

word count: 2.63 k

Ao3

Something was really off about Cage’s house. After coming back from the tournament and training, you weren’t ready to get back to normal life. And Johnny had offered you a starring role in the movie he was planning to make about Outworld. You accepted quickly, after making sure you wouldn’t have to get naked or be a horrible person or anything like that. But rent is rough, and Johnny is so generous as to let you stay at his place.

His casual, gigantic mansion-y place.

But it was nice. You had your own space, a full fridge, and could still ignore things like work for a bit longer. Plus, Johnny was a surprisingly great host, hosting movie nights in his private theater. Everything was great, except…

You always felt like someone was watching you. As long as you weren’t in your room or the bathroom, it felt like there were eyes on you. Getting a drink of water? It’s there. Sitting on the couch? Being watched. Just wandering into a room? Oh yeah, you for sure feel it. But you brush it off and don’t bother to say anything to Johnny. You figure it’s just dumb paranoia.

After about 2 weeks without any work from Johnny, you’re getting bored. He’s never home, he has work to do and a movie to plan. So you sit around the mansion all day, waiting. Usually, you read, watch stuff, or even just take laps around the house for exercise. But today, you’re just scrolling through social media. Even that is boring to you today. You decide that, hey, you can think of a good way to pass the time. For a quick moment, you forget about feeling watched. Your fingers dip below your waistband, shivering at your touch. It’s been a long time, you’ve been training and then living in someone else’s house. When would you have the chance?

Slowly, you begin to tease yourself, fingers circling your clit. It’s quite embarrassing how much it affects you, but you’ve lost your ability to feel shame. You lose yourself in your actions, whimpers and moans echoing through the empty house. Unable to stop yourself, you finish with an almost violent snap, panting harshly. Pulling your hand out, you finally feel embarrassed, with how fast you were, and how hard you came. Shakily, you stand up and walk towards the bathroom to wash your hands.

You've forgotten what you did by the time Johnny gets home that evening. Smiling as he walks in, a grocery bag in one hand. “Here comes Mr. Celebrity to pass out treats to us poor folk,” you throw your hands out in a joking manner. But there’s a weird look in his eyes, not matching his characteristic smile. “It’s movie night, I had to make sure we had enough snacks,” he walks towards the kitchen, you shortly behind. “Oh yeah! What’s the movie tonight?” You lean against the counter, searching through the bag.

“The Thing. We haven’t done any horror movies yet.” He grabs a glass of water, drinking deeply. But that look is still there. It almost scares you away at how sharp it is. “Ah, ok. Well…I guess I’ll see you then.” You back out of the room, almost running when you’re out of his sight. Catching your breath in your room, confusion floods your mind. Did you do something wrong? Is he tired of having you here? All you can do is wait and wonder until tonight.

And tonight comes much too fast. You find yourself stumbling into the theater room, meeting Johnny’s eyes as you walk in. But he seems much happier. Maybe he was just tired after work. As you get settled, a bag of snacks next to your leg. As Johnny starts the movie and turns the lights down, you start to get nervous. What if he’s mad at you? He is pretty rich, if he wants you dead, it wouldn’t take long.

But Johnny sits next to you, settling down and looking towards you. You try not to look at him, fearing that you might meet a cold gaze. Unable to stop yourself though, your eyes meet his. The weird look is still there, no longer hidden under sunglasses and smiles. Ever the considerate movie-watcher, he leans in to whisper in your ear. “So, did you have a good day? It must get lonely here.” Trying to stay calm, you whisper back, “It was ok, I can’t complain. Was your day ok?”

“Yeah, more progress made on my movie. Studios are eating it up. But…” He pauses, looking at the screen shortly before looking back to you. “I did see a very interesting movie on break.” Turning fully, you look at him confusedly. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh yeah? What was it?”

“Well, you know, I do have cameras set up like everywhere, right?”

Oh shit.

Your entire face drops, frozen in shock. You finally remember the fun you had earlier on the couch. The watched feeling finally makes sense. “O-oh…” You stumble over yourself trying to think of excuses. This is humiliating. But Johnny doesn’t falter like you. He pauses the movie, reaching his hand out and taking yours to pull your focus back to him.

“You put on quite a show for me, you know?” You finally recognize the look in his eyes. It’s intense curiosity and...lust? “Only wish I knew what you were thinking about. Care to enlighten me?” He leans slightly closer, hot breath fanning over you. Swallowing hard, you try to avoid his intense stare. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was just…bored?” He laughs slightly, holding your other hand. “Really? I was sorta hoping you were thinking of me, but that’s a little selfish, huh?”

“H-huh? What? Do…do you think of me like that?” You fluster further at his words. “Maybe…does that bother you?” He falters slightly, realizing that he might be making you uncomfortable. But you can't stop yourself from blurting out, “No! It doesn't bother me. I-” Cutting you off, Johnny leans in closer, lips an inch apart. “Then what's the problem?” You swallow hard, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, and finally answer.

“I just don't know what to do when fantasy becomes reality.”

Luckily for you, Johnny knows.

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you like your life depended on it. You wrap your hands behind his neck and lean back, pulling him impossibly closer. Your tongues dance against each other, lips crashing. Suddenly, you get a surge of confidence, one that defies your previous apprehension. One of your hands slips down his chest slowly, inching along until you reach his growing bulge. He pulls back slightly, panting and staring directly into your eyes. “H-hey now, you’re not playing fair,” he manages to get out, slightly whining at your touch.

“You started it, watching me like that,” you whisper in his ear, fingers slowly rubbing along his waistband. He gasps lightly, head turning away from you. “You liked it, right? Did you touch yourself watching it?” Your fingers move further past his waist, inching towards his cock. “C’mon, you can tell me,” your voice almost sing-songy and teasing. He manages to stutter out a shaky “y-yeah” as you continue down. But you suddenly stop, much to his disappointment.

Instead, you move to kneel in between his legs, looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looks slightly confused until you undo his pants button. Biting his lip, he watches you with intense, pleading eyes. You lean up, taking the zipper of his fly in your mouth and undoing it. He looks like he could honestly cum right now, but you won't let him. As you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, his cock springs up, the tip angry and weeping. He blushes at the sight of himself like this and you, looking up at him with his hard dick right in front of you.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, stroking him a few times. You just want to watch him squirm and squirm he does. He is whining, head turning back and forth, with one hand on his thigh and the other over his mouth. You kiss the underside, looking up at him through your lashes. With a muffled moan, he looks away again, face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. Slowly licking at the tip, watching as he continues unraveling, you finally take him in your mouth. You fit as much as you can at first, reveling in the loud gasp you earn from him. You continue a relentless pace, gently massaging his balls as well.

This pleasure is intense for Johnny, so much so that he’s starting to tear up, eyes welling up as he holds back as many sounds as he can. But that only lasts so long as you lift your head off him, taking a deep breath and rasping out, “Do you wanna come, baby? Huh? Then come on, fuck my face like a good boy.”

You go further down this time, causing him to jump at the feeling. Scurried hands grab at your head as he's bent forward, bucking at a frenzied pace. Loud, slutty moans roll from his lips as he loses himself in the feeling. And as you kneel there, trying to stay there for as long as possible, you feel yourself growing wetter. You did this to him, got him so riled up that he could barely control himself. Amongst his hurried moves, you manage to push past your gag reflex and fully take his entire cock down your throat. A loud, long breathy moan is all Johnny can get out as he almost immediately cums at the feeling. Focusing on holding your breath until you can no longer feel him pulsing in your throat, you savor his sounds, his whines, whimpers, moans.

As you move up, taking a deep breath, you admire him in the lowlights. His face flushed and sweaty, eyes rolled back in his head, usually perfect hair messed up. Beautiful. But he only stays like that for so long, because you move up to kiss him. As if his body is reacting without him thinking, he wraps one hand behind your back and uses one to tangle in your hair. After a short kiss, he pulls away. You manage to half-whisper “That was quite a show you put on,” chuckling afterward.

Johnny lazily motions for you to sit next to him, and you oblige. But before you’re even fully down, he's on you, kissing and pulling you closer. Now it's his turn to tease, fingers traveling under your shirt to play with your nipples. You let out light gasps at the feeling, as Johnny starts to bite and suck at your neck.

Mumbling against your skin, you can hear him say, “I'll give you a show.” He manages to pull your shirt off before you even realize what's happening, his eyes still desperate and wanting. He has no grace or subtlety as he pulls your pants and underwear off, he doesn't want to wait any longer than he has to. Shrugging his shirt and pants fully off, he stares at you intensely. He moves a finger to swipe across your wetness, knees buckling slightly as he feels you. He leans in against your chest, beginning to beg. “Please, please, I wanna be inside you, love. I wanna give you a real show, show how good I can be. Please?” God, he's kind of pathetic like this. It's hot.

With a quick nod, he springs up. He wastes no time as he practically lifts you and turns you around. Now, with your hands grasping the back of your seat and ass in the air, Johnny leans over you and presses against your back. Kissing between your shoulder blades, he slowly moves his hips to yours, cock gently rubbing against your wet pussy. Unable to control himself, his hips buck at the sensation, earning a groan from both of you. Face still against your back, you feel him lightly bite you, trying to ground himself.

Finally, he manages to calm himself, standing up and taking a deep breath. After a pause, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly. With a long whine, he manages to bury himself inside you, pausing to adjust. With a strained voice, he quietly says, “Oh god, you feel so good, squeezing against my cock like that. I’m already sensitive, you know.” After a short pause, he starts to move, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces against him. “Shit, I should’ve fucked you earlier. I’ve been missing out,” he manages to get out as he speeds up, reveling in the way you mewl under him.

He’s moving at a breakneck pace now, gripping your hips desperately, and sputtering out praise. Without slowing, his hands shoot out, wrapping around your neck and grabbing your jaw. He’s using your head as leverage, but he manages to fuck you even deeper. He gently turns your head to the back corner of the theater, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention. “See right there? That’s where the camera is. Go ahead, put on a show, baby.” Despite his confident words, his voice is higher than normal and breathy. His words shoot straight to your dripping pussy, clenching even tighter around him. His hips buck in as he laughs slightly. “You like that? You like being my own personal pornstar? Then come on, let me see it. Get louder, these mics only pick up so much. Don’t hold back, yeah?”

You decide that he’s getting a little too cocky, and decide to shut him up a bit. Moaning out obscenities, you begin to bounce back against him. His hands shoot back to your hips, using you to stabilize himself. Gone are his confident words, replaced with the most gorgeous whimpers you’ve ever heard. His head dips lower, resting once again against your upper back. You can hear his quiet whispers of “Oh fuck” repeated over and over again like a prayer.

With scrambling fingers that dart under you, he starts to play with your clit, bouncing at the same rhythm of his thrusts. “What fun is it if I’m the only one cumming? Besides…” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I studied the game tape.” He begins moving in circles, and suddenly it’s like you’re fucking him for the 50th time. He knows exactly where and what feels good, what directions, and how much pressure to use. But you have no time to wonder how many times he watched you before his hips started snapping in shaky thrusts. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and with the energy you have left, you decide to put on a major finale. Head tipped back, you begin pleading with him, crying out, “Please come for me, please, please. You’ve done such a good job, I need it, I need you, please please please…” Unable to hold back, he cums with a harsh final thrust. But even in the throws pleasure, he manages to continue to play with your clit. You cum shortly after him, he whines at the feeling of you spasming around his extremely sensitive cock. He slowly pulls out, taking a long second to admire the sight of you bent over and dripping arousal.

He guides you into the chair, helping you sit down and catch your breath. He sits next to you, snuggling into your side and planting his face against your neck. He breathes deep, inhaling your scent and kissing lightly against your sensitive skin. He manages to mumble into your neck, looking up with sweet, half-lidded eyes, “So...there’s about 56 cameras in the house. You mind sticking around for an extra few weeks?”

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk x reader #johnny cage mk1 #mk1 smut

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justlemmeadoreyou · 5 days

Text

3. protectively watchful (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here)

summary: you take up on the mantorship offer, but it creates more tensions and turmoil within you than were before. an incident in the kitchen makes harry go into protective mode, and you can't help but get turned on by this man more and more.

words: 4.8k

warnings: sexual tension (like A LOT), inappropriate behaviour, protective!harry.

***

"You wanted to see me, Chef?"

You gave a light knock on the open door of Harry's office, trying to sound polite and professional. It had been a few weeks since you had that talk with Harry about keeping things strictly business between you two. During that time, he had been a perfect mentor - giving you advice and guidance without any flirting or suggestive comments.

His coaching had really helped improve your cooking skills as you soaked up all his knowledge and experience. You were grateful to have a normal working relationship again, focused solely on culinary training. And yet...you couldn't ignore the faint lingering tension between you, that subtle underlying charge.

Harry looked up from the notebooks on his desk, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile when he saw you. "Ah, there you are. Come on in, have a seat."

You sat down in one of the chairs across from him as Harry neatened up the loose papers into a stack. Up close, you couldn't help noticing how well-fitted his black button-down shirt was, or how his tousled hair looked very touchable.

Firmly reminding yourself this was just a professional meeting, you averted your eyes politely until Harry cleared his throat.

"So as you know, the big Martin gala fundraiser is coming up in a few weeks," he began, shuffling through some folders. "It's one of the biggest events of the year for underprivileged culinary education programs. I'll be preparing the featured dish for their live auction, and I'd love for you to assist me on it."

Your eyes went wide with surprise at this prestigious opportunity. The Martin gala was a hugely famous event in Chicago's culinary scene, attracting all the wealthiest and most notable diners. For an up-and-coming chef to collaborate on the centerpiece dish was an amazing honor and chance to get exposure.

"Wow, yes of course!" you replied enthusiastically. "I would be absolutely honored, Chef. Thank you for this incredible opportunity."

Harry's dimples deepened as he smiled approvingly. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be under a huge spotlight to deliver an amazing showstopper dish. I expect you to rise to the challenge."

You quickly nodded. "You can count on me to give it my absolute best effort. I'm ready to do whatever work is needed."

"Excellent," Harry said in a slightly lower, huskier tone. "That's exactly what I like to hear."

For a moment, his voice had a heated quality that hinted at other situations where your eagerness might be welcome. You ignored the shiver it sent through you, reminding yourself this was strictly business now between you two.

Harry seemed to realize he was skirting the line, as he abruptly straightened up and all hints of flirtation disappeared as he switched fully into mentor mode. "Right, well let me walk you through my basic vision so far..."

You leaned forward attentively as he outlined preliminary ideas for a highly ambitious and avant-garde dish blending molecular gastronomy techniques with classic French cuisine fundamentals. It was wildly cutting-edge, even for a showpiece event like the Martin gala. But the more details Harry provided, the more that same thrill of adrenaline rushed through you whenever presented with a new culinary challenge to conquer.

For the next hour, the two of you bounced ideas back and forth in that unique creative flow state that chefs share. Harry's presence was magnetic, but you refused to get distracted by more physical aspects - like the stretch of his biceps against his crisp sleeves, the hint of toned abs beneath his open collar, or the raspy timbre of his voice dipping into that lower register as he passionately discussed certain techniques.

And oh, his damn tattoos.

No, you sternly told yourself as the conversation began wrapping up. Those days of getting flustered around him were over. Harry had made it clear where you stood, and you fully accepted those boundaries. Anything else was just self-torture.

"...but of course, those are just preliminary thoughts," Harry was saying as he collected the scattered folders into a neat pile. "We'll have plenty of time to refine the details over the next couple weeks."

You nodded, filing away the mental notes you'd taken during the discussion. "Absolutely, Chef. Just let me know whatever you need for prep or testing different ideas to get a head start."

"Will do." With an air of finality, Harry gathered up the pile and rose from his seat. You quickly stood up as well, not wanting him to loom over you in the enclosed space. For a beat, you both hovered awkwardly, the air seeming to thicken between you.

"Well then," Harry said, making no move to step past you towards the door. "I'd say this calls for a drink to celebrate our new collaboration, wouldn't you agree?"

Before you could reply, he turned and went to a small antique cabinet tucked in an alcove you hadn't noticed before. With a practiced hand, Harry selected a heavy glass decanter and two tumblers, placing them on the cabinet and expertly twisting off the stopper.

"Let's go with Lagavulin," he mused aloud, carefully pouring two generous glasses of the amber scotch whisky. "A good Scottish whisky seems appropriate for the occasion."

"I really shouldn't, Chef," you said reflexively, already picturing your lightweight self getting sloppy and unprofessional after even a single drink.

But Harry just chuckled softly. "Loosen up a little. It's a celebration, after all."

He emphasized this by bringing one of the heavy tumblers over and pressing the cool glass into your hand. You frowned down at the coppery liquid, worrying your lower lip uncertainly. But before you could protest further, Harry gently clinked his glass against yours in a silent toast before taking a sizable sip.

The whisky's smoky, peaty aroma seemed to wrap around you intimately. Despite your hesitation, you couldn't help giving an appreciative inhale before taking a small, tentative sip yourself. Bold, layered flavors of vanilla, caramel, and charred oak underscored by an earthy smokiness burst over your tongue. You let out a soft sigh of indulgent pleasure at the decadent taste.

"Good, isn't it?" Harry's gravelly voice made you start slightly. He was watching you with amusement, whisky glass dangling casually from those large, handsome fingers. "It really hits you in the back of the throat, makes you slow down and savor it fully."

You suddenly realized the suggestive implication behind his phrasing and felt a flush of heat bloom across your face and chest. Harry watched the play of emotions flickering over your features with relish before taking another indulgent sip. This time, you noticed the way his full lips pursed delicately to drink, the tiny furrow of concentration between his brows as he savored the flavor before swallowing.

Unconsciously, your eyes tracked the mesmerizing flex of his throat as he swallowed, the hint of stubble grazing along his chiseled jawline. A twinge low in your abdomen accompanied the thought of feeling that scratchy burn of beard between your thighs, that talented mouth working magic elsewhere on your body.

Mortified, you shut down that wayward trail of thought through sheer willpower. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized Harry had caught you staring, his own gaze darkly amused.

"Easy there," he murmured huskily, stepping a bit deeper into your personal space. "This dish is a marathon, not a sprint. Best to learn to savor every indulgent morsel along the way."

With a pointed look and arched brow, Harry raised his whisky to those plump lips once more, holding your gaze as he placed the rim against that full lower lip and let out an obscenely gratifying groan of pure delight.

Moments after, the tension had subsided, but the flush and blush that had creeped up your cheeks wasn’t going away anytime soon–you were sure of that.

***

You tried to push aside the lingering thoughts about the “Celebration” that were now implaed into your mind, and the way tiny droplets of the drink remained on his lips till he licked them off with his tongue–

You wanted that tongue to be yours.

Shaking your head, you focused on prepping the ingredients for the evening service. The dinner rush would be starting soon and you needed to have everything ready. As you worked, you were vaguely aware of the dining room filling up with patrons being seated. The sounds and aromas of the bustling kitchen surrounded you in a familiar, comforting way.

You were so engrossed in your tasks that you didn't notice the man approach until he cleared his throat loudly. Looking up, you saw a smartly-dressed diner smiling at you in a way that made you instinctively uncomfortable.

"Well, hello there," he said in a syrupy tone. "I was just admiring the delicious-looking fare over here." He raked an obvious look up and down your body. "The menu selections have my mouth watering already."

You stiffened, recognizing the overly familiar leer. This wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an obnoxious patron hitting on you. Keeping your expression neutral, you replied in a polite but firm tone. "I'm afraid you'll need to return to the dining room, sir. The kitchen is off-limits to guests."

Rather than taking the hint, the man leaned nonchalantly against your prep station. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I was just hoping you could suggest something...special for me to sample tonight." He punctuated this with an exaggerated wink.

Suppressing a grimace, you turned away to continue your work, hoping he would give up and leave. No such luck. The lech sidled closer until he was nearly pressed against you. "What do you say? I'd love for a tasty little thing like you to--"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen area immediately." Harry's firm baritone cut across the man's words like a whip crack.

You looked up in relief to see your boss standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched as he glared at the offending patron. Even from several feet away, you could sense the potent force of his displeasure rolling off him in waves.

The diner seemed to shrink slightly under Harry's censorious scowl. "Oh, uh, my apologies. I was just trying to get some personal recommendations--"

"The kitchen is off-limits and you're making my staff uncomfortable," Harry interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I won't ask again. Return to your table or you'll be asked to leave the premises."

Looking sufficiently cowed, the lech swiftly retreated with some mumbled apologies. You exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the anxiety brought on by the unpleasant encounter. Harry stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked you over with concern.

"You okay? That asshole didn't go too far, did he?"

You managed a faint smile, oddly touched by the protective edge in his voice. "I'm fine, Chef. Just another boorish customer thinking the uniform is a dinner invitation."

His jaw tightened again as he scowled in the direction the man had gone. "That type of behavior is completely unacceptable. You let me know right away if anyone hassles you like that again, understand?"

Nodding, you found yourself blinking rapidly against the unexpected prickle of grateful tears at having Harry firmly in your corner, despite the complicated dynamics between you lately.

For a long moment, he watched you carefully as if gauging your equilibrium. Then Harry surprised you by reaching out and briefly squeezing your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. The warmth of his large hand seeped through your uniform, leaving a tingly imprint even after he pulled away.

"I've got your back, [Y/N]. You focus on doing your job and let me deal with any assholes who get out of line."

The gruff tenderness in his words made your heart do a traitorous little flip in your chest. You nodded again, not trusting your voice enough to respond properly.

With one final pointed look, Harry turned and headed back out to his front-of-house duties. As you watched his broad-shouldered form disappear through the swinging doors of the kitchen, you felt a complicated tangle of gratitude, protectiveness, affection...and yes, a lingering undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't seem to fully extinguish despite your best efforts.

You spent the rest of the dinner service determinedly pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Harry or the earlier incident. Focusing fully on your work was the only way to get through these confusing emotions that had you all over the place..

The rhythm of prepping, plating, and coordinating with the other line cooks settled into a familiar, reassuring routine. The constant flurry of chopping, sautéing, and barked orders provided a sort of meditative escape from your muddled headspace.

By the time the last diner had been served and the kitchen was winding down for the night, you felt pleasantly drained in that satisfying way that comes from a job well done. As you began breaking down your station for cleaning, Harry emerged from his office looking satisfied.

"Excellent work tonight, everyone," he called out in that effortlessly commanding tone. "Front-of-house said the new salmon dish was a huge hit. We'll definitely want to keep that one on the seasonal menu."

A chorus of tired but pleased murmurs went around the kitchen at the praise. Harry's eyes found yours amidst the small crowd, holding your gaze a beat longer than strictly necessary before moving on to the other cooks. You tried not to read too much into it.

With the nightly pep talk concluded, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white chef's coat, joining everyone in the evening breakdown and cleaning duties. You watched surreptitiously as he expertly broke down one of the grill stations, muscles in his broad forearms flexing enticingly with each efficient movement.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, quickly refocusing on scrubbing down your own prep area. This was exactly the kind of distracted, unprofessional behavior you were trying to avoid lately around Harry.

Despite your best efforts, however, you couldn't fully ignore him moving about the kitchen, checking in with each station to oversee their sanitation. At one point, he paused to examine some utensils that hadn't been properly cleaned, tsking in displeasure before batting them aside to be re-scrubbed.

"That's never going to meet inspection," he chided the sheepish-looking young line cook in his trademark gruff tone. "Do it again, and do it properly this time. We're not running a greasy spoon here."

As much as his uncompromising attitude could be intimidating, you also found it oddly...thrilling to witness Harry taking charge so authoritatively. Not to mention the visual of those powerful hands deftly at work was sending your thoughts in an unprofessional direction yet again.

Sternly redirecting your focus, you turned your back to give the area behind the grill station a thorough scrubbing. You were so engrossed that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Harry's low voice sounded directly in your ear.

"Everything looking good over here?"

You whirled around to find him looming directly behind you, near enough that you could smell the spicy notes of his subtle cologne mingling with the lingering kitchen aromas clinging to him. Up this close, you couldn't help noticing how the top buttons of his coat had come undone at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of the toned chest beneath.

Trying not to stare, you quickly averted your eyes as you nodded. "Y-yes, Chef. All clean on this side."

"Hmm." His assessing gaze slowly raked over your work before returning to your flushed face. The tiniest of smirks played about his lips as if he could read the direction of your thoughts.

"Well, then. Carry on," was all he said before turning and strolling unhurriedly back towards his office, burgundy cargo pants slung enticingly low on those lean hips.

You let out a shaky breath, mentally cursing how easily flustered you still became around this man, no matter how much you tried to enforce boundaries. Resolutely, you refocused on finishing your cleaning tasks, determined to get out of there before any more distracted lapses in professionalism.

By the time the kitchen had been scoured from top to bottom, you were one of the last few staffers remaining. Wearily peeling off your apron, you were just reaching for your bag when Harry reappeared, looking unhurried and relaxed now that the nightly duties were done.

"Heading out?" he asked as you approached, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.

You stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. "Yeah, I'm beat. Gonna try and get some extra sleep before the morning prep shift tomorrow."

He made a noncommittal sound, falling into step beside you as you headed for the employee exit out back. For a few moments, you walked in silence, oddly aware of the warmth radiating off his body this close to yours.

When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what you expected. "You did good with that asshole customer earlier."

Your steps faltered slightly at the praise before quickly recovering. "Oh...uh, thanks, Chef. You really didn't need to step in like that."

"The hell I didn't," he countered gruffly. There was an edge to his tone that made the tiny hairs at your nape prickle. "No one treats my staff like piece of meat, especially not in my own goddamn kitchen."

Harry shook his head in disgust at the very idea, causing a lock of mahogany hair to fall rakishly across his furrowed brow in a way that really shouldn't have been as distracting as it was.

Swallowing hard, you refocused on the matter at hand. "I've dealt with guys like that before. Just comes with the territory sometimes, y'know?"

"That doesn't make it acceptable," he insisted, mouth setting into a grim line. You found yourself unable to look away from the sharp angles of his frowning profile, chiseled jaw ticking faintly with irritation, that he tried to mask.

He fixed you with those intense pale eyes, all traces of humor gone. "No one - and I mean no one - gets to treat any of you with disrespect while I'm in charge around here. I won't stand for that shit under my roof."

The ferocity in his tone sent an involuntary shiver rippling through you, though from wariness or...something else entirely, you couldn't say. All you knew was the low, authoritative resonance of Harry's voice carried an unmistakable air of command that raised goosebumps along your arms.

Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact you were walking in such close proximity out of public view. Or hell, maybe it was just the sheer presence of this man who could flip between stern taskmaster and something rawer, more carnal in the blink of an eye.

Whatever it was, you felt that subtle spark between you ignite and suddenly, you desperately needed to be alone to process the yearning that flickered to life low in your belly. Before you could consider the impulse further, you were blurting out the first excuse that came to mind.

"Well, thanks again for that. And for the whole mentorship thing too. I, uh...I actually have some errands to run, so I'll just catch you tomorrow morning, 'kay?"

You didn't even give Harry a chance to respond before ducking through the exit, muscles taut with confused tension. As the cool night enveloped you, you drew a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to steady yourself.

Whatever weird atmospheric flux had momentarily enveloped you back there was too dangerous, too distracting from the tenuous balance you and Harry had only just reestablished. No, it was better to put some space between you before things got muddied again.

With a fierceness born of sheer force of will, you wrestled your turbulent, wandering thoughts back under control. You were a professional, with goals to work towards. Getting pulled into Harry's electrifying orbit again would only derail you.

Still, as you hurried to your car, his shape-shifting countenance kept flashing unbidden across your memory - the dazzling smile, the brooding intensity, the simmering promise of authority barely restrained. All of it provided an infuriatingly potent combination that had your body humming with repressed longing despite yourself.

This was going to take more effort than you'd anticipated.

***

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of grueling practice runs and preparation for the Martin gala. You and Harry spent nearly every waking hour in the kitchen, iterating endlessly on his showpiece dish concept.

With the prestigious event date rapidly approaching, any lingering awkwardness or tension between you had been shifted firmly into the background. The shared urgency of perfecting this culinary masterpiece became an all-consuming focus that left little room for anything else.

Still, that didn't stop you from noticing...things.

Like how the sleeves of Harry's whites had an endearing tendency to get shoved up his forearms in a way that displayed those tanned, sinewy muscles to distracting effect as he worked. You definitely didn't linger over the sight of his strong hands deftly wielding a knife, making precise, practiced cuts. And you absolutely did not imagine those dexterous fingers trailing across your skin instead of the cutting board.

At least, that's what you sternly told yourself in an ongoing effort to maintain focus.

For his part, Harry was all business during these preparation sessions - issuing clipped instructions, evaluating ingredients with a critical eye, pushing both of you relentlessly to get every component just right. Only rarely did you catch hints of something more underneath that professional veneer.

Like the time you were bent over a burner, carefully spooning out the orbs of flavored olive oil onto the waiting plate. Harry stepped up behind you to examine your work, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. As he leaned in closer to inspect the delicate orbs, his low murmur caressed the fine hairs at your nape in a way that made you shiver.

"That's it...go nice and slow with a deft touch," he rumbled in that raspy timbre that never failed to send tingles shooting straight to your core.

Heart pounding, you risked a sidelong glance to find his pale eyes already locked on yours, glittering with an intensity that contrasted sharply with his deceptively neutral expression. A charged moment stretched between you as that underlying spark you'd been determinedly ignoring flared, sudden and molten.

Just when you thought you might spontaneously combust, Harry blinked and cleared his throat brusquely. "Carry on, then," he instructed in his normal crisp tone before turning away to focus on another component.

You stood motionless for several heartbeats, fingers clenched around the spoon, skin flushed and tingling in equal measures of arousal and disbelief. Did that really just happen or had the endless hours in the kitchen started affecting your mind?

Too skittish to ponder it further, you dove back into your tasks with even more single-minded focus, the uneasy moment shelved and locked away tight. No matter what fleeting tension arose in isolated pockets, you couldn't afford to unpack it right now - not with the enormity of what was at stake.

The days ticked down in a relentless march until finally, you and Harry stood in the solitude of his spartan office the night before the big event, taking a breather from your marathon final prep session.

An ungodly number of mise en place containers filled every available surface, each holding fussed-over components of the highly elaborate and conceptual dish that would make its debut tomorrow. Harry had pushed you both to your physical and creative limits, drilling the execution repeatedly until he was satisfied you could plate it flawlessly under the anticipated scrutiny.

Now, having quality-checked and prepped every last possible element, there was nothing further to do except rest up and bring your sharpest mental game tomorrow. Harry seemed to deflate slightly as the backdrop of mounting pressure decreased for the first time in weeks.

Propping his hip against the desk with studied nonchalance, he quirked one eyebrow in a sidelong glance. "You ready for this?"

Despite your weariness, you felt that familiar thrill of adrenaline stir at those simple words - as well as a contradictory quiver of nerves. This event was a make-or-break opportunity of the highest magnitude, especially for someone like you just starting out. Either you nailed your responsibilities tomorrow, or it all came crashing down in front of Chicago's most elite gourmands.

Shoving aside the sudden flutters of doubt, you met Harry's inscrutable gaze head-on, straightening your spine. "You know I am. We've put in the work, and this dish is gonna blow them all away."

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his sculpted mouth as he studied you appraisingly. "That's what I like to hear. Just remember - all the technique practice in the world won't mean a thing if you panic out there."

The subtle warning made you bristle defensively, never one to back down from a challenge. "I'm not going to panic," you scoffed. "I eat massive amounts of public pressure like this for breakfast."

Harry's eyes danced with amusement, and not for the first time, it struck you how effortlessly he could switch between imposing and playful. "Is that so?" he drawled easily. "In that case, would you care to make things a bit more interesting?"

Before you could respond, Harry kicked off from the desk in one sinuous motion to prowl closer. Despite your weariness, you felt your heart rate kick up several notches as he invaded your personal space, long body coiled with a loose, predatory grace.

"Let's say we raise the stakes a little," he proposed in a tone of studied nonchalance that was completely belied by the heated glint in his eyes boring into yours. "If you can prove you've got the chops to keep a cool head under fire tomorrow, I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Just you and me, anywhere you want to go."

Your mouth went instantly dry at the implications behind his offer. Were those...the unmistakable undertones of flirtation coloring his invitation? After the weeks of him keeping things strictly professional between you, the sudden shift was dizzying - and left you dangerously intrigued.

"And what if I choke?" you heard yourself countering recklessly before you could reconsider. "What do you get out of it then?"

His answering smile was pure blistering sin. "Oh, sweetheart. If that happens...I get to take you out too - but somewhere a bit more private."

Harry paused to let the suggestive proposition linger, backing it up with a slow, heated raking of his pale eyes over your body that left zero doubt as to his implication. Heat bloomed furiously across your cheeks as forbidden images flooded your mind unbidden - flashes of tangled limbs, straining muscle, sweaty exertion of a far different sort...

Then, just like that, the provoking spell was broken. Rocking back on his heels, Harry shrugged one broad shoulder in an easy, dismissive gesture. "But that's not going to happen, is it? You've got all the skills, you've put in the time - no reason to buckle tomorrow."

He threw one final weighted glance in your direction before pivoting on his heel towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you at the venue early to do our final walkthrough before we get this show on the road."

And with that parting comment, Harry strode casually out, leaving you rooted there in dumbfounded silence. What the hell had just happened? One moment, you'd merely been steeling yourselves for tomorrow's high stakes challenge - and then suddenly he was issuing some bizarrely flirtatious...proposition.

Or was that really what it was? As you stood there chasing replays of his words, his tone, his body language - the whole previous interaction kept taking on a slinkier, more salacious cast. Like maybe your presence of mind was slipping already, causing you to read into things that weren't really there.

No...no, you decided as you hefted your bag, determined to put it all out of your head for now. Harry was just his usual aggravating self, trying to rile you by dangling some imagined reward or punishment to keep you on your toes before the big event. This whole...suggestive semiflirtation thing was just the product of your own exhausted mind playing tricks.

Firmly shoving aside all unsettling thoughts, you focused on the immediate challenge awaiting tomorrow. You would plate Harry's showpiece dish to absolute perfection, prove yourself under the brightest lights, and decisively seize this career-making opportunity.

Everything else could be dealt with later.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this!

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tsukii0002 · 2 months

Text

A young adult Yuu II

Yuu is isekaied into twisted wonnderlar, but they are a "independent" adult in their 20's, college ended and who is fighting for finding a job and survive.

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Having the vision about the queen of hearts

Yuu: *waking up all of a sudden* I think I should put down that herbal tea…..

Ace: *after almost knocking the door down* I need you to let me stay here.

Yuu: *with squinted eyes* If you wake me up again at this hour you'll stay out, I'm in an age and if I don't sleep I don't yield.

Ace: Ah! whatever, from today on I'm part of this dorm!

Yuu: I don't feel ready and I'm not old enough to have a teenager in my charge. ….

Ace: *wearing Riddle's collar*

Yuu: What weird discipline methods are used in the magical world.

Ace: This was done to me by my housewarden!!!!

Yuu: …

Yuu: What weird bullying methods you guys use in the magic world.

Ace: NO IT IS NOT!!!

Deuce and Ace discussing about Riddle

Yuu: *to Grim* I think this Riddle guy is going to be a problem child.

Grim: Technically he's our superior.

Yuu: ...

Yuu: There goes what little authority I had left….

Entering Heartslabyul dorm.

Grim: This place is incredible!

Ace: *smiling* This is much better than that dump you call a dorm.

Deuce: What do you think Yuu?

Yuu: My gosh to clean all this… so much ornamentation, what a lot of dust that has to accumulate…

Ace and Deuce: …

Yuu: And so many rosebushes, damn, how much water has to be spent on watering.

Deuce: Looks like we're all going to the same class.

Grim: I'm going to outdo all of you.

Yuu: I'm practically your legal guardian already, no one can convince me otherwise at this point.

Crewel: …

Yuu: …

Crewel: You-

Yuu: Don't say another word, I've got enough on my plate.

Crewel: Let's get together once in a while after class, it'll be good for you.

Yuu: Thank you, I could really use someone who isn't a mess of hormones.

Crewel: *putting a hand on their shoulder* My condolences.

In the cafeteria.

Yuu: The food is good!

Ace: Of course this a prestigious school!

Yuu: And it's free!

Deuce: A-are you ok?

Yuu: *almost crying* I won't have to break my head thinking about what to eat every day.

Yuu: So the students are separated into dorms according to their abilities?

Cater: That is.

Yuu: My 10 year old self is shaking.

Cater: ?

Yuu: I'm in a magical school separated by houses, suck on that reality!!!

Riddle: Rules must always be obeyed!

Yuu: *sarcastic* Yes, of course, because people in positions of power always follow the rules.

Riddle: The world works because of the rules!

Yuu: Oh my boy, what a beating you're going to get when you leave school *sighing*

In the botanical garden

Grim: Are you the gardener?

Yuu: Grim!! this kind of work is very hard, *to Leona* you must be very tired, I apologize.

Leona: Tsk, I'm a student.

Yuu: *confused* And shouldn't you be in class?

Leona: And shouldn't you be out of school and working?

Yuu: Ouch.

Trey: You're pretty good at cooking.

Yuu: Ha, ha, ha, I've been living on my own for a long time, although this sweets thing is new.

Trey: Why?

Yuu: I didn't have the time or money for that many ingredients.

Deuce: *believing that chicks can born from any egg*

Yuu: My maternal instinct is getting triggered again?

Yuu: *seeing Cater's ability* I could really use that ability, fuck magic with fire and lights, I want to do several things at the same time.

Riddle rejecting the cake

Ace: All our work!

Yuu: Ha ha, how nostalgic…. this reminds me of my first job, the exploitation….

Deuce: What ??

Yuu: *with an empty stare* Yeah, you know, all your hard work and dedication thrown away, like this cake.

Ace: *to Deuce* Are we going to become like this when we grow up ???

Deuce: React yuu!!!

Yuu: *come to their senses* How can you throw food away? I can tell you've never been hungry!

Ace: Aaaand back to "responsible" adult mode.

Trey after explaining Riddle's past

Yuu: So mommy issues? Ha, ha, welcome to the club.

Yuu: Do you think it's okay to have students fighting with magic in this way?

Crowley: It's a healthy duel.

Yuu: How can you still be the director of a place full of minors?

Yuu: Today's teenagers are scary!

Crowlwy: Not all our students are like that!!!

Yuu: Are you implying that you're scared of Riddle too?

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Today's teenagers are scary.

Yuu: Please, somebody stop him, the kid is going to get a stroke, he won't make it to 20 if he keeps going like this.

Deuce: Do something Yuu!!!

Yuu: And what do you want me to do? I haven't inherited my mother's chancla ability yet.

Riddle overblot

Yuu: This change can only mean one thing… I don't know if I'm ready for this... but as an adult I have to take care of it…

Grim: ??

Yuu: * to Riddle* I know you're going through a difficult time, it's normal, but it's also natural. We all go through these changes in our body

Ace and Deuce: That's not !!!!

Yuu: Isn't that puberty in the magical world?!?!!!!

Trey and Cater: NOOO!!!!

Yuu: *after seeing Riddle's flashback* Someone please bring the little boy a strawberry cake.

Riddle: *apologizing and saying everything he wanted to do*

Yuu: That's it, get me on that mother, let's have an adult to adult talk.

Crowley: Yuu no.

Yuu: I'll show her what respectful parenting is NOT.

Riddle: I want to apologize for what happened.

Yuu: Oh, don't worry, it's okay, although I still don't get that magic thing.

Riddle: It was childish behavior.

Yuu: …

Riddle: I wish I could be as mature as you.

Yuu: Hey, don't be in a hurry to grow up. That adulthood thing is a scam, you never feel mature enough.

Riddle: But-

Yuu: What matters is not to be more grown up in certain situations, it's to learn from them and take a note for the next one. And even if I seem more mature as you say, I'm just as lost as you are in some things, don't let anyone fool you, adults don't have everything under control.

Riddle: Thank you…

Yuu: And let me give you some advice, the family tree can also be pruned.

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blackopals-world · 8 months

Text

(The horny has taken me)

Nsfw:"What are the Yuus' sex life with their partners"

(Fem!Yuus because the male dynamics are completely different)

After this we go back to regularly scheduled wholesome content.

Riddle Rosehearts x Maid!Yuu-

Very vanilla. They are satisfied with missionary and cuddling after. You'd think they'd have a master/servant vibe but they don't bring that into the bedroom. Light flirting and teasing in public but they won't ruin their image with indecency. But Riddle does have a mommy kink and a praise kink. Yuu takes full advantage making Riddle lose his mind.

"It's okay baby, you can cum. Cum for mommy sweetie."

"Yesh, mmmnn! Mummy!~♡"

Leona Kingscholar x Vet!Yuu-

Leona doesn't initiate sex. He does however bother Yuu when he's in the mood, which is alot. Yuu will wait as long as possible because of their work. She isn't worried about Leona losing interest because he won't. Leona wants anything he can't have. Yuu waits until the end of the day to give her partner what he wants which leads to rough sex. They love rough sex with biting and scratching. They will go at it like animals and you'd think they hate each other. Whether fighting or making up the answer is sex.

"Where do you think you're going? You said you could take it. You sounded so cocky a minute ago. Now take it!"

"Shut the hell up! Unng~ If you'd just slow down I could adjust-nmm!"

Ruggie Bucchi x Chef!Yuu-

Food and fucking, what better than that. Yuu has a slight feeding kink. Not a fattening kink though. She just likes striking the moment Ruggie is full and relaxing. Ruggie doesn't try to escape at that point all he wants is to use Yuu's thighs as a pillow. I know the question. Do they do the thing? Yes, they do the syrup and whipped cream thing.

"Ayanfe? You're giving me that look."

"Mahal, get the chocolate syrup. I think you deserve an early dessert."

"Yes, Ma'am!!"

Jack Howl x Writer!Yuu-

And they call it puppy love~

But seriously they are too saccharin-sweet for kinky business. They are too pure! Too innocent! Too loving!

Until Jack gets in the mode and desperately clings to Yuu. He gets all whiney and tosses his tough guy persona. Lots of nudging and cuddling his girlfriend as she focuses on typing. He literally gets so horny it hurts as he waits as patiently as he can. He tries not to bite when he can finally mounts Yuu but he can't help it.

"Ja-akk please slow down! You're too big to-oo go this deep! I'll cum if you-ah!"

"Sorry...it feels so good. So tight. Please let me mark you."

Azul Ashengrotto x Marine Biologist!Yuu

Extremely kinky. They both understand how mentally fragile the other can be when it comes to love. One wants to be loved the other wants to love. Yuu is a bit obsessive which translates to body worship. Azul's controlling nature leads to using Yuu. They both are obsessive actually. Sexually Yuu will sit on Azul's lap while he talks to clients, kissing and nuzzling him while he pays no attention. When guests leave she will switch to blowing him under his desk. Yuu loves cock warming but Azul knows he won't be able to focus the entire time. He ends up breaking character every time and fucks Yuu over the table.

"Pearl, you look amazing wrapped around me. You'd look better with a collar and a leash wrapped around my hand. It will be easier than pulling you by the hair."

"Mmmn~♡"

"Sorry, I forgot how much you love that."

Floyd Leech x Orca!Yuu-

You ever seen a small dog on a big one? Sorry. Had to say it.

Biting so much bitting. It's just natural for them. They will also go it at a moment's notice. No fuss. No build up just raw animalistic fucking like nature intended. They aren't kinky because that implies that they aren't just fucking. They don't even care if they get caught, at least Floyd doesn't.

"Floyd! What the hell! Can't you two do it in your dorm? I sit there!"

"Fuck off! Can't you see we're busy."

Jamil Viper x Dancer!Yuu

Too tired to put extra energy into fucking. Unless Jamil is particularly agitated. Then he's rough and possessive. God forbid Yuu has a competition and is practicing with someone else. They love having sex when one of them feels jealous and let it be known Yuu gets jealous especially when others talk about how hot Jamil is.

"Do. You. like. It. When those girls complaint you when I'm right there?"

"Do you when you have your hands all over your partner? Do you think he'll care if I send him a picture of you riding my cock right now?"

"Only if you send it to your fan girl too. You're mine hibibi~"

Rook Hunt x Special Forces!Yuu

Insatiable. Fuck more than Yuu's prized rabbits. Kinky is a word they redefined. Really into BDSM but surprisingly they also switch roles alot. Enjoy predator/prey play, degradation, and bandage. While they aren't in an open relationship they have had threesomes. Vil can pretend all he wants but he has slept with them.

"Rat, if you make another sound I'll be forced to strike you again."

"mon amour, s'il te plaît, frappe-moi plus fort-ackk!!!"

Vil Schoenheit x Gardener!Yuu

Hate sex. I mean if you can't stand another person's personality but still find them extremely attractive you might just have fuck about it. Spiteful biting, clawing, and cursing. Vil may be prim and proper in public but this is different. He actually enjoys letting loose and Yuu doesn't complain about being held by the throat. Their little tryst will devolve once all the anger is gone to actually making passionate love.

"You were so mad earlier, you even broke broke skin this time. Now you're acting like a mother hen."

"Silence. Stop moving you are going to get the ointment everywhere. Do you want a scare?"

"Yes! I thought I made that clear. I can't wait to wear it everywhere and explain how I got it."

Idia Shroud x Otaku!Yuu

Toys. So many toys. They can't do it without edging, vibrators, pocket pussies, or dildos. God forbid they find something new to try out. They also love dressing up in cosplays. You don't want walk in on them, their is bo telling what they are doing. And yes to those wondering Idia does get pegged.

"Idia don't pout. I said clip-on not strap-on. I know you are disappointed but we already had plans."

"I know, but I thought I was my turn."

"Okay fine, but I still get to edge you."

Ortho Shroud x Dolly

Malleus Draconia x Noble!Yuu

What do you do if you need to save a dragon from a princess? Honestly, Yuu is very proper and keeps Malleus on a short leash. Premarital sex? Scandalous! They still do it in secret which leads to stealthy sex where they avoid getting caught. This is different because a railed-up dragon is hard to control but getting the even more stubborn control freak princess to back down is harder. It's a battle of stamina from there. Yuu hangs on out of spite.

"I'm...surprised you've lasted...my love."

"I'll pass..out after you...do."

Lilia Vanrouge x Celestial!Yuu

"Me and my wife saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe."

Okay, seriously they are a bisexual couple who are no strangers to a bit of fun. They just don't have lovers around the kids. They are still very committed to their marriage. They have never told Malleus what their relationship with his parents was behind closed doors. Or Silver about his mother in Yuu's case. And yes that does make them brothers. It's complicated.

"We can always see if Crewel is willing to join us."

"Dear, I think as long as you're posing as a student it's illegal no matter how old we are. Plus I doubt the boys will forgive us if we go that far."

"I guess I have a goddess all to myself then. What a selfish man I am."

Silver Vanrouge x Odette Crowley

Well technically she's a dullahan, so.... Removable head. So you know.

I doubt he'd do it though. It would be pretty hot though. But he's on that respect woman mindset.

Sebek Zigvolt x Disciplinary Officer!Yuu

He's guilty of disturbing the peace officer! Please punish him! She has the crocodile in a chokehold and he ain't going nowhere. Sit.Stay.Beg. He follows orders like a puppy dog. That riding crop isn't for show and yes it's charged. But if he's a good quiet boy he gets rewarded.

"I'm glad we finally got to put that loud mouth of yours to good use. I'll keep my promise, if you make me cum I'll let you out of the cage."

(Okay, the last one has me sweating.)

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kaciidubs · 9 months

Note

KACII BABY COMPOSER CHAN IS STUCK IN MY HEAD i miss him so much, like imagine walking in on him hard at work<3 he's such a genius and so fucking professional :( and and hes so focused :( and and he's wearing his black hat :(

its so hot and i wanna sit on his cock

and that rhymed which is even better :(

anyways, love you kacii baby<3

ESTEE BESTIEE PLEASE, COMPOSING MODE! CHAN IS SUCH A CONCEPT!! Girlie i miss him too it's insane :((

You come by his studio for a surprise visit, ready to offer him a quick lunch date when you hear the rhythmic ticking of the digital metronome and see his hand flexing around his mouse as he edits a track.

He's working, of course.

And honestly you should have called beforehand, but you don't always get the chance to see your lover doing what he does best, and you're honestly excited to watch him now.

He pauses mid-movement and turns to you with a look of confusion, "Baby? Hey, what're you doing here? Did I forget a date or something?" A flash of worry streaks across his face, "I mean- Not that I'm not happy to see you! I love seeing you, it's just-"

"You didn't forget anything, Channie, don't worry," you cut off his rambling with a smile, letting the door close behind you as you walk toward his chair, "just wanted to pop in for a visit and see what you and the boys were up to."

A soft, relieved smile grows on Chris' lips and he tugs you closer into his bubble, his hand wrapped around yours with a light swing. "Ah, well, I'm a little in the middle of making a track so I won't be as entertaining as I usually am - if you wanna find the others-"

"Can I watch?"

"Huh?"

You raise your free hand to twirl a stray curl that's sticking out from underneath the brim of his black cap, "I wanna watch you - I'm not in a rush, plus I can't remember the last time I actually got to see you make the next Stray Kids masterpiece."

His eyes crease as he laughs that little high pitched giggle you've always loved, a tiny squeak accenting the end as he tilts his head away. "Masterpiece is a stretch, but you can watch me if you want to - if you get bored and wanna leave, I won't be offended."

Taking that as your offer accepted, you pull up the spare computer chair and sit next to him, watching diligently as he readjusts his hat and fluffs up his hoodie before hopping right back into the world of tempos and samples.

And, honestly? You love it.

You love seeing the shift from your giggly, adorable boyfriend to the focused, goal oriented leader of the fourth generation; the unwavering focus of his eyes on the computer screen in front of him as he drags and drops various sources with abbreviated file names you couldn't even begin to guess.

Once he's edited the background beat to something you think he may be pleased with - for now at least - he slides his midi keyboard over and plays with a few chords, his long, pretty fingers dancing along the ivory-plastic keys.

It's intoxicating, truly, the way he licks his lips as he finds the progression he's looking for, but struggles to navigate where it ends - the soft huff when he plays it over and over so his short term memory won't forget the notes.

Slowly, you've gone from watching him make music to simply watching him, studying him in his element, observing him and the habits you've seen in other settings. You can't help but squeeze your legs together, your breathing subconsciously slowing as you watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, the column of his neck stretching as his head moves to search the large monitor.

"I can feel your eyes on me, baby girl." He murmurs, a sideways smirk tugging his lips, "You're gonna burn a hole into the side of my face, you know?"

"Can't help it," you breathe softly, eyes now tracing the sharp angle of his jaw, "you look so fucking sexy when you're making music."

A squeak of confusion resonates from him as he makes a change in the file, "Really? I'm just sitting here, what's so sexy about that?"

Usually, if he were truly busy, he'd pass off your fueled comment with a shy chuckle, but a few hours have passed and he'd gotten a lot further than he expected - a short break was definitely earned.

"The way you look at the screen, like nothing else exists around you, and the way your hands move when you know you've got something good going and you can't waste a single second," licking your lips, you tilt your head slightly, "or the way you bite your lip when you're really into whatever thought's running through that genius brain of yours- just makes me wanna..."

"Wanna what?" He turned to face you, lidded eyes flicking between your own lust-fogged irises and your slightly parted lips. "Wanna what, baby girl?"

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, a rush of heat washes over you under his intense stare.

"Wanna sit on your dick and have you record some sounds of our own."

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ Estee Bestiee #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #estee & kacii era

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avocado-writing · 6 months

Note

Hello! Today is my birthday (well, in one hour it will be) and I was wondering if you could write a story with Crowley and Aziraphale with reader perhaps set in the tltdatsib series/world where it’s like the past sometime (whenever you’d like) and maybe Aziraphale (or Crowley) gets jealous that reader is paying more attention to the other and angst to fluff perhaps with makeup sex? Thank you! New to the fandom and love your work!

notes: I’m certain it was your birthday like two months ago by this point but uhhhhh enjoy!

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley (tltdatsib-verse)

rating: E

Crowley is jealous.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at conveying it: huffing, sitting down heavily, crossing his arms (though definitely not pouting) but you and Aziraphale haven’t picked up on it.

For the amount of time you’ve been together, sometimes it does end up that two of you will spend more time together than all three. He’s had countless times when he’s headed off with Aziraphale around the world for work reasons, and he can firmly remember some stints in the seventies when the two of you hit the road to follow your favourite bands on tour.

Still, though. He doesn’t like it when it happens to him.

You and Aziraphale have been going to night time classes. He’s not quite sure what classes, neither of you have let that slip, but what it has meant is that you and the angel have been around each other incessantly. Together. He feels a bit elbowed out of it all, like the two of you have some little secret to giggle over.

Crowley swirls his wine in his glass and mopes a bit before swallowing it down, harrumphing quietly to himself as he hears the two of you open the door to the shop and walk in laughing. Probably at some private joke that he won’t be privy to.

“And I was just— oh, hello, Crowley. Why are you sitting in the dark, my love?”

He looks over to you and notices for the first time that he’s not bothered to put the lights on. He flinches as Aziraphale hits the light switch and the bookshop is bathed in a warm glow. The two of you carry on as if nothing is amiss; Aziraphale puts the kettle on, you hang up the coats.

“Have you just been there since we left?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Crowley takes another quaff.

“Maybe. Not sure why you’d care.”

He sniffs loudly and out of the corner of his eye he can see your confusion.

“Love, what’s the matter?” you ask, crossing your arms, fully in no-nonsense mode. Aziraphale pokes his head out of the kitchen.

“Is something happening?”

You gesture for him to follow you. The kettle sings and turns off, ignored, and the two of you plonk down on the sofa either side of Crowley.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, gently but firmly, laying your hand on his knee.

“Well, maybe you’d know if you weren’t constantly disappearing off to your evening classes without me…” he knows he sounds petulant but honestly he sort of doesn’t care. He enjoys being petulant sometimes.

“Oh, Crowley,” you say softly, “we didn’t think you’d want to come, my darling.”

“I don’t want to come!” he snips, then deflates a little, putting down his wine, “But I would have done it if you asked.”

You and Aziraphale exchange a look. Ah. There it is. You’ve been around long enough to know that misunderstandings happen when communication doesnt. Either side of Crowley, you both take one of his hands.

“Crowley, dear. We weren’t excluding you to be unkind. We just didn’t want you to come because… well…”

“Look. We’ve been going to swing dance classes. And we’re really bad at it,” you finish. Aziraphale shrugs and nods. Crowley furrows his brow.

“What?”

“We’re so utterly pants. We can’t swing dance to save our lives and we’ve been going for weeks now.”

“We’re getting better!” Aziraphale says, “We don’t stand on each other’s feet half as much any more. But truth be told we are the worst in the class by a large margin - and we don’t want you to watch us dance until we’re worth watching.”

“It’s pretty humiliating. We were hoping one day we’d be able to show you properly. We wanted you to be impressed.”

Oh god. Crowley feels awful. The two of you weren’t trying to exclude him, you just wanted to be good enough to show off. He groans and buries his face in his hands.

“I’m an idiot,” he sighs.

“Well…”

He shoots you a withering look, but ends up smiling.

“My dear, you have to tell us if something is bothering you. Neither of us would want that,” Aziraphale says.

“If you’re feeling neglected you just need to say, and I’m sure we can make it up to you…”

This is all the incentive Crowley needs to allow the two of you to begin to touch him.

You kiss him first, long and slow, before freeing his lips for Aziraphale. Crowley loves the slick slide of his husband’s tongue along his, the way the angel’s warm hand skims the plateau of skin revealed as his shirt is lifted up. You work your way down Crowley’s body and end up on your knees between his legs, your hands making light work of his jeans.

“Ahh, there we are,” you sigh, finding him half-hard and stroking him to his full length. You take a moment to inhale the musky scent of him before you touch your tongue to the tip of his cock, and he bucks as if you’ve run a thousand volts through him.

“Shit—!”

“Language,” Aziraphale mutters against his lips. The demon’s shirt is hitched higher, Aziraphale begins to run his thumb in a circle around the peak of his nipple.

“Such a lovely boy,” you hum as you press kisses down the length of his shaft. Crowley doesn’t identify as male necessarily, but he does enjoy hearing you call him a ‘lovely boy’. It makes him feel small and safe, adored.

He relaxes into the couch and lets you both take care of him. By the end of the evening, and several orgasms later, he can tell you’re both very sorry for making him feel ignored. But if this is the way you make it up to him, maybe he doesn’t mind too much…

tags: @angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound@a-mediocore-writer@darktealrat @chaospossum @belilwen @rex-ray @hunterispunk

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #Request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

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murfeelee · 1 month

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Aquatic INSP Set Pt1 (Objects)

🥳 It's my birthday and I'll sim if I want to! 🥳

This set includes 11 recolorable Buy Mode objects directly inspired by an IWTV Mermaid AU I'll be posting gameplay for next month.

EA Kelp as Edible Raw Meat for Vampires (Nona Dried Food Mod REQUIRED)

Severinka Hippocampus as IP EP Jetski (IP EP REQUIRED)

TheVintageSim Fringe Hammock REDONE (Functional Loveseat)

Pocci Ceiling Lamp Jellyfish 01 & 02 REDONE (Stringless)

Pocci Jellyfish as Teddy Bear

Venus Girdle Inspired Table Light

Wall Mosaics 1x5

Ivy as Ceiling Light

Simszoo Tree REDONE (RECOLORABLE as Outdoor Light)

Pocci Sakura Vase REDONE (Translucent)

Enjoy!

Download (package files): Mediafire | SimFileShare

Descriptions & preview pics under the cut:

EA Kelp as Edible Raw Meat for Vampires (Nona Dried Food Mod REQUIRED)

If you use the Nraas Hybrid mod to make mermaid-vampire sims, it's a headache getting them to eat a effing thing that's not plasma-based. So I took EA's Kelp mesh and slapped Nona's script on it, to make it "raw food" that can fill a vampire's Thirst need. (I HIGHLY recommend also using Nona's other raw foods--there's a nice juicy fish vamps can eat, which I used in my IWTV post here.)

Severinka Hippocampus as IP EP Jetski (IP EP REQUIRED)

(The harness mesh was shamelessly ripped/reshaped from Mermaidia's Seahorse Taxi. I didn't place the handles as well as I probably should have, but oh frikkin well.) I was too lazy to make this fully recolorable (you can kinda sorta recolor it, since I put the textures in the Multiplier not the Overlay)--but it does come in 4 color variations:

TheVintageSim Fringe Hammock REDONE (Functional Loveseat)

I've been wanting this decor hammock as a functional loveseat for frikkin ever. This gameplay gave me the perfect excuse to bite the bullet and make it. The mesh is rescaled to fit EA loveseats. Fully recolorable, comes in multiple variations, like the original.

Pocci's Jellyfish

I was so jealous that Pocci remade their TS3 Jellyfish ceiling lights for TS4 without the obnoxious strings dangling from the ceiling, so I went and made their Jellyfish 01 & 02 stringless myself. Then I made the Jellyfish as a Teddy Bear. The clipping & joints aren't great, but it works and I'm tired.

Venus Girdle Inspired Table Light

It's amazing, the kind of IRL deep-sea critters you learn about, just by reading mermaid fanfiction.

Wall Mosaics 1x5

They come in a bunch of variations. Two are based on IRL portions of the Madaba Map, for no good reason, other than I just needed a medievalesque mosaic map #ForReasons.

Ivy as Ceiling Light

I made sure there were no backfaces on the ivy mesh, so you could still see inside the lot from a bird's eye view. (I used these with the TW3 Bulb Lights I converted here.)

Simszoo Tree REDONE (RECOLORABLE as Outdoor Light)

I made this tree recolorable and an outfoor light--I wish I knew how to make only the leaves glowe, not the whole frikkin trunk. Ah well.

Pocci Sakura Vase REDONE (Translucent)

All I did was change the texture of the flowers so they were crystal/see-through.

And that's that!

______________________________________________________

Enjoy!

Download (package files): Mediafire | SimFileShare

#sims 3 cc #sims 3 mods #sims 3 foodstuffs #sims 3 transportation #sims 3 lighting #sims 3 toys #sims 3 comfort #sims 3 wall art #sims 3 plants #sims 3 island paradise #sims 3 fantasy #sims 3 animal parts #it's my birthday and i'll sim if i want to #sims 3 loustat

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absolutebl · 2 months

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Hi P'ABL. Not sure if you have answered something like this before, I couldn't find it with search, but what are your favorite "Oh" scenes? Either "Oh I'm (or he's) gay" or "Oh I'm in love with this person". Asking this question after rewatching Ep 4 of Bad Buddy and watching Qian's reaction to seeing BL novels in Zhi Yuan's room.

Light Bulb Moments in BL!

Ooooh, good question. And no I haven't answered it before. You mean specifically the viewer coming to this realization?

My Favorite: Oh HE V GAY!

Takara just looking at Amagi.

A reading K's mind in the elevator in either Cherry Magic.

The New Employee at the dinner party across the table from the boss with the two queers being like: "Us? Dating? Are you cray, we hella rainbow."

This moment in Jun & Jun:

And then the "not instantly moving away" utterly flirtatious response.

City boy finding the hot farmer's little box of Pride on the shelf in Some More

To My Star - surprise robe flashing moment (I also love Addicted's execution of this one but it doesn't count as an ah-ha moment, just a big fat tease - pun intended)

This character's admission in Nobleman Ryu's Wedding:

MinSung on that train with the earbuds in Wish You.

Solo walking into that cafe in Oxygen.

Fighter meeting Tutor in Why R U?

Step by Step at the gay club, I mean FINALLY.

I'll just call him my wife in SOTUS.

This scene in I Feel You Linger in the Air:

My Favorite: Oh I'm in love with him

Eternal Yesterday, that damn look in the rain, holly hell (the cool thing about this one is ... it's mutual)

Aoki climbing into the plastic bag in My Love Mix-Up - I mean, COME ON, how gay is that? "oh no! I'm into love with him, I am trash, must be ultra dramatic about it"

Unintentional Love Story the agony of realizing he's in love with someone he has to deceive and betray - those EYES

Mark running after the Taxi in Love is Science?

Ai's "what is going on" in Love By Chance

Pete's AH HA moment in Kiss Me Again

Pretty much most of Love Sick. It's kinda the point of the show. But you can never get away from this one:

Possibly one of the most iconic moments in all BL.

Anytime the character starts swearing and is mad at himself when he realizes he is in love: Semantic Error, The Eclipse.

Pretty much all 3 leads swapping both of these "ah ha" moments back and forth in Light On Me

Honorable mention: Someone ELSE in the story's "oh HE'S in love with him?!"

PitchBank, need I say more? (Golden Blood)

Takara's bestie just focused in on Takara's actions around Amagi for the whole day at school and then being like, "Oh I was teasing them but my friend is IN LOVE. Activate WINGMAN mode."

Are we surprised Suzuki Jin appears twice on this list?

Also no shocker this list is full of JBL, they very good at this kind of thing since a lot of it is eye work and thirst.

(source)

#asked and answered #favorite AH HA moments #favorite gay lightbulb moments in bl #japanese bl #takara and amagi #jun and jun #korean bl #Wish You #Why R U?#FighterTutor #my love mix up #Thai BL #PitchBank #Suzuki Jin #i feel you linger in the air

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milla984 · 7 months

Text

And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants.

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked.

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock.

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit.

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.”

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.”

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on.

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.”

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure.

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you.

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke.

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name.

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member.

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

“When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud.

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—”

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering.

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you.

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you.

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do.

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #my gifs #milla writes stuff #mentioningmargins #there are references from a couple of other tv shows hidden in this work #feel free to let me know if you can find them #quot “i understood that reference”

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 3 months

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Imagine if reader was a big fan of this series/movie/show or smth, that they'd see and be an absolutely die hard fan about the whole thing about it whether the chars, plot, the story's style, you get the gist yknow

So ofc along with being die hard fan mode is obv indulging in its book, movie, musical, heck, even fanfics lmaoo

Andddd when there recently was play adaptation of the story showing, reader would absolutely go fan girl mode for the starring actor/s about them and their performance/portrayal of their favorite character/s

so I'm wondering how a certain actor would react to this..

Yandere! Theatre actor x gn! Technical team! reader

What if: Reader is an otaku?

Oh god. I don't know a show that well to be that obsessed. Videogames, sure, but shows or books? Uh... Have a manhwa, I guess? Beware of the Villainess go.

SINCE the ending of the main fic had darling kidnapped, we'll change this one to where Ignatius hasn't done that yet.

You were so intent on looking at your phone reading a chapter of your favorite manhwa, Beware of the Villainess. You heard it's going to have a play adaptation.

Sure, you don't know how that would work, but you know damn well you won't pass it for anything!

You don't really care for plays, but this is going to be an exception.

Especially as you pass by the panel where Nine, the male lead of the manhwa. You had a silly grin on your face as you looked at him.

A lot of people don't like the manhwa, cuz it's apparently boring, Melissa, the FL didn't have that much chemistry with Nine, etc.

You didn't care though. This is your comfort manhwa. So why would they care? You absolutely adore the characters, loved how strong Melissa is and is not a pushover, Yuri for breaking away from the stereotype of being a two faced bitch, and Nine for breaking away also from the stereotypical "cold and harsh" male lead.

This may not be everyone's cup of tea, but it's yours. And you're content.

As you read, your director painfully jabbed your side, making you sharply intake a breath.

"What the f... Oh." You flinched from your director's pointed look as he pointed at the stage where the actors are waiting for the lights to go out. "Sorry..."

The director rolled his eyes (unaware of somebody's gaze that was about to kill him on the spot) before berating you.

"Pay attention! We're literally on the last week of our rehearsals! You better keep your phone..." Your director grabbed your phone away from you, making you yelp in surprise. "... Away from you!"

You pouted, suddenly feeling sad before paying attention to the technicals in front of you, turning off the lights.

The scuttling of feet on the stage were heard as you put your chin on your hand, and your free hand on the lever to turn on the lights on a dim.

Hours later, when rehearsals are done, you stretched your body and snatched your phone away from the director.

Giddily hopping away, you got to one of the seats on the theater and snuggled up. For the next rehearsal set, you were not needed since all they had to practice was lines. So, more time for you to read.

As you scrolled down on a forum about the play for BOTV, you felt a presence beside you and you flinched again, not expecting company.

When you looked up, you were surprised to see the genius of the troupe.

"Oh, Ignatius." You were baffled. "Uh, hi."

Ignatius smiled calmly. His eyes didn't express that much, that's for sure. It was almost eerie how he's always so calculated. He's talented, and fools everyone with this main persona of his. But you know that he's more to it. That he's actually quite the--

"You got in trouble?" He asked in a light, amused tone. "That's new. What happened?"

You flushed red. "Ah, uh... Well, I was reading this."

You raised your phone, showing the forum you're reading.

"Well, there's this manhwa... I mean, like it's a webcomic? A Korean webcomic. It's named Beware of the Villainess and it's having like a play adaptation. It's like my favorite manhwa ever and it's so mindblowing that... Uh... Sorry."

You slowed down from babbling about BOTV when you realized you were rambling to Ignatius of all people.

But he looked like he didn't mind.

He really didn't. He knows all about your obsession with it after all. Even getting irrationally jealous of Nine.

"I know right! It's amazing. I've been reading it too! But it's kind of weird. I mean how are they going to do it? But it's quite nice to see such a cute manhwa getting a play adaptation of all things!" Ignatius started to ramble too, making you gasp in the sudden newfound camaraderie. "But it's in Broadway. It's really hard to get an audition..."

Ignatius jolted, realizing he let that slip out. "I mean.. I wasn't thinking of auditioning..."

You, in your buzzed high, held his hands tightly with a sparkle on your eye. "Yes! Audition please! You would do an amazing Nine!" You were practically beaming from the news.

Ever since you heard Ignatius being interested in the same thing as you do, you forgot that he's fake, and all you could think about is that you found a shared interest with the troupe's star.

Ignatius heart almost stopped. You were so close to the point that he can smell your scent. It smelled heavenly, and his shocked face almost cracked and slipped. His resolve dissolving as fast as salt on hot water.

"Y-yeah? You think so?" His voice, breathy and light, felt so distant from your happy ones.

"Yeah! I know you could! You're really insanely talented!" You grinned, before standing up to gush more. "You're like really handsome too, and has this air the same as Nine, so yeah! You will pass it!"

Ignatius, for the first time, clammed up from the compliments. And it's coming from you too.

"I-I will audition then! Sure, why not." Ignatius smiled, heart pounding. "I'll do it."

Then maybe you'll idolize me like those others.

He watches you gush and excitedly bounce in place.

Put your attention on me. More. More of it.

He clenches his fist.

He has to land that role. No matter what.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

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starryficsfinishwen · 4 months

Text

“C'mon, Punchy! Sit!”

“Commandant,” the man sighs, metallic hand covering his handsome face, “Punchy is not a pet. It does not know any pet commands.”

At the Gray Raven lounge where you were residing for a well-needed break, Lee sits across you, intently watching as you curiously eyed the new, tiny visitor.

A small CUB, about the size of your head. You saw it in action a few times; he may be tiny, but he can morph into a large hand, capable of moving from an interdimensional hole, assisting Lee in his battles. In combat mode, you were certain it was made out of Entropy's hand, as you've held his hand a lot of times before. Punchy's screen reflected his usual expression, stoic and unamused.

“Really?” Your face contorts into a baffled expression, eyebrows knitted together and mouth pouting, “I assumed they did. Bianca's CUB knows a lot of pet commands.”

“Like what?”

“Like 'fetch'!”

You gaze expectantly at the stoic-faced CUB, assuming he'd move and do something. Instead, the screen reflected a big [?]. Pouting once more, you opted to scratch his chin— or whatever the edges of his screen were called.

“You treat it like a pet, Commandant.”

“Well, he's a new addition to the family,” you coped, tenderly caressing Punchy, “isn't that right?”

[¬､¬]

The screen reflected the emotion. Pouting once more, your resolve did not waver. Instead, you were determined to make it work.

“Oh no,” Lee sighs once more, before chuckling as he shook his head, “I shouldn't have it brought here. Asimov insisted-”

“-it's actually a great idea that Asimov brought him here,” you quickly interjected, opting to pat the CUB's head, “while Punchy is connected to you, we can at least learn now how they work! Besides, I have a theory.”

“Do tell.”

You look at Lee, beckoning him with a small gesture on your hand (which Lee thinks is too adorable), asking him to sit next to you. Although Lee had a neutral expression on his face, you looked beside you to see Punchy's screen changed.

[>///<]

Even if just for a flicker of a moment. Aha. You grin sinisterly.

“What's that look on your face, you look like you've thought of something.”

You look back to Lee, smiling genuinely. “Oh, nothing. But I did think of something.”

“What is it?”

Before you said anything, you gently took Punchy and put him on your lap, visible enough for Lee to see his expression. Like a villain, you thought, as you caressed Punchy's surface.

“Does this have something to do with it?”

“...do you remember when Noctis was summoned to Murray's office?”

That caught his attention, his eyes wide open and an eyebrow raised. It may seem that Lee was unamused with whatever was happening with Cerberus and Murray, or even with people in Babylonia, but Lee was one who liked gossip apart from anything else.

“As it turns out, Noctis had to beg in front of Murray so he can be forgiven. Do you know what he did next?”

“What?”

“Noctis had to clean every nook of Cerberus' lounge for weeks!”

A deadpan. But you know it wasn't. No, not when you noticed Punchy's screen light up.

[≧⁠▽⁠≦]

“Commandant, it's not funny,” (said he, even though Punchy's screen didn't change from the expression he had yet), “What does this have to do with-”

“-and how about Kamui, you know? He went back to Asimov to ask him to get another port so he could play, but as it turns out, the only available slot was in his forehead.”

[≧⁠▽⁠≦]

Your grin widens. Ah, the clear path to victory when you notice Lee trying to cover his laughter. You decided to throw in your other cards.

“You know, Lee, I asked about Lucia and Liv about us.”

[☉⁠｡⁠☉!]

The shock is evident also in Lee's face. You carefully say your words.

“They think that both of us are cute together,” you wiggle your eyebrows, “they wanted to know when our wedding is.”

[>///<]

Lee's face is only neutral, apart from the slowly creeping blush on his cheeks. “You do realize that weddings are a bit pricey lately.”

“Mm, yeah, but I think it's nice. I do want to get married one day.”

You lightly pat on Punchy's head, still aware of the expression on his screen. Looking down, on your ringless finger, you somehow envisioned what it would look like, should a ring be placed there. Your heart is seemingly full— a fleeting vision, that one day, you'll get married, and the groom would be...

You looked up. Looking into Lee's curious cerulean eyes, you beam a smile at him. “I hope we can get married someday. I really want to be with you, Lee.”

You don't know about the emote on Punchy's screen, but the blush and answer is already evident on Lee's face. You should be teasing more, as you normally should, but right now, you wanted to savor the moment as he took your hand, him unconsciously rubbing your ring finger.

“It would be nice,” he whispers, “as a way to show union, that is.”

Ah, never in your wildest dreams did you think the answer was already evident.

Your heart is overwhelmed with the answer.

“Kiss me, Lee.”

He does not hesitate. Lee leans forward to close the gap, soft lips eagerly kissing yours. It's soft, it's sweet, it's perfect enough to bridge your overwhelmingly full heart of love, poured over his empty cup. Both of you compliment and fit each other.

When Lee pulls away, your foreheads touch, seemingly not wanting to pull away. But he does, hesitantly so, but the blushes on your faces seemed to copy one another.

“Ah,” Lee shook his head, but the blush was still visible, pointing at the CUB in your arms, “w-what does this have to do with it?”

You lift up Punchy. And you grin menacingly.

[ ๑/////๑ "]

“Right, he's quite expressive, unlike his construct.”

Realization dawns on Lee's face.

“Despite Construct Lee's stoic expression,” you began your conclusion, “Punchy taps in his innermost feelings, thus reflecting what he has been feeling over the past few emotions.”

“Perhaps Punchy does know about you anyway,” you shrug, “since he's part of you.”

“I see,” Lee sighs, squeezing your hand, “Thank you, Commandant. I will write a report on it, then.”

“Don't call Punchy an 'it'!” You pout, pretending he has ears as you covered his side, cuddling in your arms, “he's part of you!”

Another realization dawns on you, gasping.

“Punchy is your child!”

“W-what?!” Lee sputters over your words.

[◎⁠д⁠◎!!]

The collective shock from the CUB and your lover made you laugh so hard. It didn't even need to be tested out, you should have done this in the beginning.

“God,” you wheezed, “I didn't know you were a daddy already, Lee.”

“Commandant,” Lee covers his red face, groaning, “please, no more. Don't call me that.”

“Whatever you say, Daddy Lee. We should take care of your child~”

“Commandant, no. Please.”

[ ๑/////๑ " ]

You patted Punchy's surface, before reaching out to cup Lee's cheeks, grinning. “I love you, Lee~”

Your lover only sighs, but you don't miss the smile on his face. “I love you too, [Y/N].”

shoutout to my best fwen @katsuonemars for inspiring me to write about this. they gave me a screenshot of Punchy's story, and motivated me to pull for Punchy as well as write about studying about him.

HEHE

— starry

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #pgr global #pgr lee #pgr hyperreal

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glamrock-azbear · 10 months

Text

My ✨Ruin✨ Experience (Story Spoilers, be forwarned)

Lobby

God damn Gregory, wasn’t enough to damage to animatronics you had to light the bitch ablaze too?

Ooo, HUD looking fine

Who needs a flashlight? I’ve got light up shoes!

Ah, yes, I remember breaking Chica’s ankles in this lobby…

Gregory kinda sounding sus

Okay, now super sus

Of course I’d have to go the long way around. If I were Gregory, I’d be at Roxy Raceway in half a minute (adjust crocs)

Cassie could’ve died counter: 1

Ladders are a really interesting addition… but the ability to look around concerns me

Vent… Tiny Music Man?

Cassie could’ve died counter: 2

Atrium Kitchen

This kitchen dirty af

Cassie could’ve died counter: 3

Chica there is no need—

Nevermind, she cool… for now

How’d this area get so messy? When the Pizzaplex crumbled there was nothing here

Welcome back to “Kids becoming technicians” Today’s guest: Cassie!

Two hands are better than one (Why didn’t you think of that Gregory?)

Backstage Area

Oh, hey, this looks familar… where’s Monty?

Oh sh—

Cassie could’ve died counter: 4

Found Monty BTW, me and the homies hate Monty now

Monty Golf

Lovely, 5 minutes in the Pizzaplex and not a single pizza, but I’m almost killed four times

I’m definitely down here with Monty, aren’t I?

Map Bot’s been rebranded, Map Bot will be missed 😔

I wish my virtual plushies were real

I refuse to believe an AR mask that should only let you see AR elements would allow someone to phase through objects

Must look super trippy to people observing from a different POV

“Look mom—” (Clips through wall)

Surprising the other animatronics are event still alive given it seems most charging stations have been decimated

Freddy’s probably still in Low Power Mode, unless Gregory jailbroke him

Gregory search history: How to jailbreak Freddy Fazbear

Of course the only surviving thing in all of Monty Golf would be the Monty Golf Arcade Game (I’m not telling you how long I played)

Can I take my chances with the electric door?

Something tells me a rabbit is behind all this…

So can Monty crawl through this area? I hope not, I’m not that fast

LSD jumpscare! Too bad I say “no” to drugs (takes off Vanni Mask)

Oh shit— Monty quiet af

What? I already deactivated the nodes so open up— Oh… I deactivated the Wet Floot Bot… oops

I don’t care that Monty crushed himself with a wood plank, I’m running and not looking back

The Daycare

So is Moon gonna be hunting me? Cause like none of the ending explicitly showed him being destoryed so—

Well there he is

Oh, he’s insane

And he’s Peter Pan

Can I get my free weapon now?

I’m surprised the Generators are still around

You know, if Gregory had a FazWrench, maybe he wouldn’t have to have gotten physical

So Eclipse is real? Check that off the list, now where’s Ballon Boy?

He really loves slamming them doors

One thing I’m grateful for is Moon not being a menace this time around

Theater

Ah shit— the night ticklers

Nu Uh— they give eye contact 💀

I thank the Basement for reminding me that the night ticklers are not to be trifled with

They killed Comedy Bot 😭

Vanny Cameo, she is literally getting more screentime than in SB here lol

Also damn, from another POV she was literally chasing Gregory in broad fluorescent light

Oh sh— he got m— wait it’s and Endo?

WTF happened?

Oh sh— oh it’s a giant Endo… welp, into the throat

Girl being dramatic for what

Bruh I can’t run—

Hm, so the Monty Carts still work… interesting

GASP— LORE!!!

Confirmed, Monty is the Band’s adopted child

Bonnie passed the torch fam— HE PASSED THE TORCH—

Oh yeah… the Pizzaplex is run down…

Monty Golf Catwalks

Cassie could’ve died counter: 5

And I’m back

Another Monty fight up here and Monty finna lose more than his bottom half this time

Navigating this area reminds me of something… (Insert ToTK Fire Temple)

Proof all comic endings were drawn by Gregory

Suddenly: Portal 2

The Pizzaplex is out to get Cassie— I’m convinced

Portals don’t transfer velocity do they?

Oh my—

Don’t rush me, Gregory, I’m doing the best I can (Misses another target)

“I’m sorry little one…” (Deactivates Wet Floor Bot)

Wait, if the Monty Cart I was riding in to get here derailed, then why isn’t this one?

Basement Kitchen

R. I. P. Pizzabot, he didn’t make it to Ruin

Chica’s Bakery

Chica in a silly, goofy mood 🤭

The cupcake does not approve of the vibe

Chica, honey, you’re being a bit too silly now

Ok, someone here is shitting battery acid all over the Pizzaplex and didn’t tell me, not cool dudes…

Cassie knows the drip must stay clean

Fire has done a number on Chica’s awareness

Chica’s Feeding Frenzy!

Server Room

Okay, so, where exactly am I?

Freddy Foreshadowing

So if I could take off the mask right now, what would I see.

How’s LSD Trap gonna be all big and do nothing

Roxy’s Salon

They really said “Feel free to play our arcade games! Just not princess quest…”

Oh shit— wait, so like after Roxy antagonized Gregory in the Afton Battle, she leaves and comes here?

Legit proof that when Roxy said “You have no friends” to Gregory, she meant it

This area is actually much better than its counterpart with all the staff bots

Yeah, “Gregory” saying not to get police or adults involved is sus

Absolutely valid reason to be mad but how would Roxy know Gregory took her eyes, what did she see him do it?

Apology accepted

She’s totally gonna save me later isn’t she

Sewers

Bruh, he’s a real gator now

You know, with how high I’ve seen that demon jump, I would’ve though jumping on a floating piece of debris would be nothing

Wait, so if he was in the water the whole time being a menace, then why did he die now?

Roxy Raceway

Ok but with this place in such a destroyed state, who’s to say I couldn’t just break the floor to the sinkhole?

Roxy!

Roxy no— I thought we were friends! 😭

Als what was that hitbox

Runaway go-kart—

Cassie could’ve died counter: 6

Bonnie Bowl

The Mystery Mix is gone 😫

So… we gonna work with Bonnie? That little show earlier feels like a sign 😏

Oop— Mini Music Man… looks like he’s gonna be here, but I mean I can step on one—

Oh… He joined a gang

And with amazing strategy I lure the gang away— and there’s still one here!

Ok fair, it’s more believable that it takes 3 to take down a child

Gasp— FredBonnie? In my Pizzaplex?!

They were sadistic for giving these robots feelings

Fazer Blast

Vanny’s hideout is wrecked

And they said “No Princess Quest!” again

What are the chances of me getting a FazerBlaster?

0 apparently…

There’s Daddy Deady

Wait— “Prototype?”

Mmm… so… yeah… that thing Freddy said about other Freddys… yeah… yikes

Ok but why tho—?

He got a present inside him

Yes, I tried to claim the present, didn’t work

Uh… wait, so he wasn’t real?

Oh lovely… the Mini Music Man’s back

Bruh, I was already out of the vent, how’d he kill me

Roxy Raceway Sinkhole

The Plushies show the future

That “Save me Cassie” sounding kinda skinwalker-y

Was there always a vent there?

Oh lord

Well to be fair, deactivating her seems to be the only real path, don’t think I can lift a forklift (I’m not forklift certified)

She probably can’t either (Roxy not looking too forklift certified either)

Ok, but, how did Roxy get pinned?

With all the destroyed locations, this area looks the least destroyed now

You know, with how weak the fence seemed, did we really need Monty’s claws?

How is the elevator back?

Holy shit, the legend— Candy Cadet!

Yep, that story checks out for potential skinwalker ending

Afton’s Lair

It be so wild to run into Afton’s corpse corpse here

Wonder if the Blob is still hanging around

Also now being in this side it’s actually strange that there’s working cameras and a flame button on the other side

So you’re telling me villainy is stronger the lower you go

Ooo— the boss fight—

Nevermind, he ded I guess

Haha! Now I’m forklift certified!

Gregory, I didn’t kill you with the Forklift did I?

Yep, definitely a skinwalker

Ooo— called it!

Also, hey, didn’t I deactivate you?

Cave

Yep, Fuck that

Ok but I’m still using the same walkie the fake was contacting me with so who’s to say there aren’t two fakes?

R. I. P. Roxy, hope you get to see Monty again

If I had my crocs in sports mode, I could total dust you

How do I know I can trust you (Goes opposite direction, find dead end) ok fair

Do I really have time for this?

So like where is Gregory contacting me from

Or even how?

Also another level to this place, what?

Oh, guess she just dead then

Oh fuck she’s fucking dead

So you’re telling me Chica and Eclipse are still alive

Y’all can’t do that— Roxy is too?

Wait, where’s Vanes/anny in all this mess?

191 notes · View notes

matenrou-fan · 1 year

Note

May I request fem!reader teasing Doppo until he goes into his 'berserk' mode? 😳

Fem!reader teasing Doppo until he goes into his 'berserk' mode

Ahhh Doppo and his wild side.. Love to see him as a bottom but sometimes.. 🤭🤭

femreader, teasing, begging, masturbation (giving), humping;; 1226 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

"Sh.. Doppo, don't be so shy now, alright?"

Ah.. It's even hard to say what titillates his body even more - such light playful touches on his waist as you slowly take off his jacket, or this tease that you whisper right in his brain, making his already melted brain turn into a complete mush.

All your poor boyfriend wants from such a long work shift it's to feel warmth of your hands, your touches, your attention. And you're willing to give him these, just not in the needed proportions - with such games you just increase his appetite, not calming it down.

"Mm, you work so hard today, it's time to have a reward, don't you think?" - the way you pin him to the wall right in the corridor, rushing things yet still being so slow with your touches makes him whine.

"S/o.. Please.." - his jacket already on the floor, and oh how much he wants to pull his pants too, but instead all that he receive it's your arms playing with his tie, boiling his imagination.

"No no no, dear.. Be a good and patient boy, okay?" - your sweet coo makes him whine, already in such a needy, weak tone..

Patient.. Your hand slipped under his shirt, tickling his tummy, and Doppo can't help but jut his hips upwards, wishing to feel this contrast of softness of your hand and hardness of his dick. Just how can he be patient if you know how to heat his whole body up with just a few touches..?!

It's unbearable, and his own hands moved to your shoulders, grasping you with another whine, with another beg. But you really love to see him like this, do you? As your movements still so slow and steady, and your whisper still so devilish, incandescent his nerves. The more he whimpers, the more playful you get, teasing your boyfriend with small brushes of your knuckles to his belt buckle.

"Already so needy, my darling? You always so sensitive around me.." - you can't help but giggle, enjoying every whisper and gasp from Doppo. You're not a sadist, but sometimes it's so hard to control yourself when his reaction is so amusingly sincere, he's too weak to even try to hide how easily aroused he gets. - "Okay, okay, don't get too whiny.."

Finally, you unzip his pants, letting his now exposed dick twitch a little in the cold air of the corridor, before gently wrapping your fingers around flushed head. Another trembling gasp breaks from his lips as Doppo tosses his head back with shued eyes. There's no need in actually jerking him off to pull more sinful sounds from him, even such small lazily movements with which you continued to tease him were enough, and the corridor quickly filled with more whimper and moans.

Still.. His cock spasming, asking, begging for more, but.. All he receives is your nimble fingers up against the tensed length, then upwards, enjoying every centimeter in torturing speed, making his hips shake. And every time Doppo starts rubbing himself more against your palm, whining for more friction, you just keep moving your hand away with a sweet scold in his ear.

You just love when your boyfriend loses his mind, when his weak, thin body overstimulates to the point where he can't even stay straight or think about anything but pleasure. And when your free hand reached to unbutton his shirt, just to play with his sensitive small nipples, that's it.. Your smuggy visage started to warp, blackness crowding in on his vision as the only thought that pulse in his mind was 'I want more'.

"S/o.. Ah.. faster, please, faster.." - he sobs, holding your shoulders in such a pathetic, desperate manner. - "I.. I wanna cum.. I wanna cum s-so bad.."

"Mm? Who said I will let you? We just started, my boy.." - your words always make him grow hot, but this time Doppo froze, still panting and sobbing but with widened eyes.

"B..but.. But.. s/o.." - his arms lowered to your waist, so helpless..

"Shh.." - you let go of his dick, instead placing both hands on his chest that heaves with deep, unsteady breaths. - "Don't rush things, okay?"

Then you latched around his neck.. Very timely, when the grasp on your waist suddenly gets so firm as Doppo quickly takes his weight off the wall and pins you instead, almost pounding you to the hard surface.

"Don't rush things..?!" - his whole body pressed to yours, and you mewl, feeling the pressure of his dick against your stomach. - "You cling to me like that before I even take my shoes off, and you ask me to not rush things?!"

The way his whiny quiet voice gets so low and husky makes your insides clenched and tingle. Oh, you absolutely forgot about how wild your boyfriend can be.. Or maybe there was your plan from the very beginning? Anyways, now you were sandwiched between his hot body and wall, at his whole disposal.

"Oh, be a good boy, be a patient boy.." - he repeats your words in some parody tone, grasping your hips and spreading your legs so aggressively. - "It's YOUR turn to be good and obedient, and let ME use you as I want, understand?!"

His hips slaps to yours as he lets his dick slip under your skirt and press to warmth of your folds. Doppo leans to your neck, and your hair stands on end from such a satisfied guttural growl so close to your skin.. he suddenly starts moving, thrusting his twitching cock against the thin fabric of your panties.

"Fuck.. I can feel how wet you're.." - just how you tickle him with your sweet mumbles, he pays you a favor with some mockery, chuckling. - "Acting like you're in charge but get so drenched when I use you like that.. You were waiting for it, weren't you?"

All the response that you were capable of right now was a small moan, but it's exactly what Doppo wants to hear - how powerless you're now, just squirming around to feel harsh strokes of his dick on your folds more. He holds you tight, pounding in the wall with all his strength, not even controlling neither his hips nor his voice.

"How pathetic, can't even talk back? But we just started, aren't it your words..!?" - his thrusts get more sloppy but no less fast as he presses his glans to your entrance through fabric.

Your thighs squeezed around his waist, and you whine again, feeling how needy your pussy clench now, begging to feel this strong pressure more closely. Ahh, just how good it would feel, to be manhandled by your absolutely feral boyfriend. These thoughts just make you bite your lips as you start gyrating your hips around his cock.

"Fuck.. Like this, that's the right.. ah.." - in one moment his voice broke, and you felt slick thick warmness on your pussy and inner thighs. For a few moments Doppo keeps moving his hips, spreading his cum on your folds, before slowly pulling away. His trembling but strong hand grasps your chin, making you look up at his darkened eyes that gloves with some wild hungry lust.

"We just started..I will make you pay for all these stupid games for a whole night.. and don't you think it would be an easy lesson."

#hypmic x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic smut #doppo kannonzaka x reader #hypnosis mic doppo #hypmic doppo #doppo x reader #doppo kannonzaka #Doppo Kannonzaka smut #【🍓】

215 notes · View notes

bts-0t-7 · 5 months

Text

Midnight Chimes - New Year's Special | OT7

Pair: OT7 x F Reader

Summary: As the New Year reaches, the boys gathered together to reminisce the past and grow for the future. The promises they make - the essence of their friendship and growth - will only continue.

Genre: Fluff, Idolxreader

A/N: This is not their end, and therefore, this is not our end. Let’s raise a glass (of anything HAAHA) with the boys and welcome the New Year. I wish all of you, a happy new year filled with love and hope.

WC: 1275

The sounds of cheers and laughter filled the air. Everybody had a space in the living room - whether it was the sofa, the floor, or the wall. Namjoon was in an armchair with Jimin leaning on it as he sat on the carpeted floor. Jungkook and Tae were huddled under the blankets together. Seokjin was whipping up dessert in the kitchen together with Hobi and you were leaning on a sleepy Yoongi.

His legs were wrapped around your waist, his chest to your back. Turning behind, your hands reached up and tangled themselves in his hair as you gently massaged his head. Soft grumbles sounded deep from his chest and he pulled you up, cuddling against you for the extra warmth.

“Jungkook ah, gimmie the other blanket.”

But he wasn’t really listening.

“Faster, faster!”

“But Hyung!” Jungkook whined. “It’s not easy! He’s going too fast!”

The sudden ‘bam!’ made you peek open an eye. “Nooooo!” Seokjin raised his voice from the kitchen.

Everybody grew silent and Jungkook rolled his eyes and trudged out of the comfy confinements of the sofa. Dragging his feet into the kitchen, he looked around to see what happened. You got up from Yoongi and followed Jungkook, eyebrows raising high as he came out with bowl after bowl of dessert. Popping your head through the threshold of the door, you tiptoed to the main chef as he meticulously placed the garnish.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your head as you leaned on his back. “Whatchu making?”

“You’ll know when you eat it.”

You pouted as he placed the big bowl to the sink, nudging it to Hobi. You opened your mouth as Soekjin sneaked a piece of apple to you. The crunch and sweetness of the apple had you opening your mouth, demanding for another one when Hobi came over and flicked water from his wet hands to you. Whining, you turned your head to him and glared.

“You’ll have your share later, Jagiya.”

Hunching your back, you flopped back down onto Yoongi, harshly waking him up from his little cat nap. Grunting, he flipped a leg over your hip, pushed his head to your neck, and fell back asleep. The room was filled with warm lights of the fairy lights placed around the room and the christmas tree. But it wasn’t the warmth of the lights or the heater from the room that it made your insides tingle. No, it was the warmth that came from the boys that slowly penetrated you without you even knowing.

Namjoon’s knowledge and words, always found a way to allow you to see the world in a different light. His clumsy self is just as adorable as everyone tries to keep him away from fragile items.

Seokjin with his allergy to seriousness, always laughing and cracking jokes. But he has times when his sterness is hot as shit. Sitting there, biting his lips as his brows raise and ensuring that all the boys are settled down.

Yoongi’s energy level that just matches up to yours. The both of you were the perfect cuddle buddy pair. You would fall sleep in his studios, listening to him work.

Hoseok with his forever ray of sunshine, bright and warm regardless of the external weather. Even when he is in strict ‘dance teacher mode’ - oh, you’ll have to hope he doesn’t go too hard that day.

Jimin’s angel-like features certainly doesn’t stop at just his features. He embodies the love and care of one. He would always be there when you had a bad day, always finding ways to do things that the both of you love together.

Tae’s nature is forever bubbly. From the way he wakes you up to the way he walks and cooks, even the way he tries to learn you hobbies so that the both of you can do more things in common. And whenever he can’t get it, he pouts so much you just had to move on or you may get a heart attack.

Jungkook would alwyas include you in things that he was doing - whether in his lives or just simple doing laundry. He is an adventurous soul, so when he asked you out to go motorcycle riding after he gotten his license, you nearly fainted.

But all of them, coming together to the life that they provided you - showed you. The light that you see when you are with them. The warmth that you feel whenever they are near you.

“Let’s count down!” Jimin cheered. “One minute!”

The desserts were on the table and it was promptly grabbed by everybody. The fairy lights that you have insisted on putting on, made the living room twinkle.

“Seven!”

“Sixxxx!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Threeeee.”

“Two!”

“One.”

The party bombs were put out as confetti exploded, its reflections colouring the room in a myriad of colours.

“Happy new year! Let’s make this one better than the last!” Everybody was huddled together in a group hug which soon turned into a comfortable big cuddling session. The others sounded their approval, raising their glasses in unison. The room was soon filled with sounds of lcinking glasses and joyous laughter.

Each of them took turns to share their favourite memories of the oast year, reflecting on their high and lows - as an individual and as a group.

A mischievous smile appeared on Jin’s lips as he exclaimed, “Remember that April Fool’s that we pranked Yoongi by hiding all his snacks? We told him we dumped them away cause they were expired! He was so mad but it was so worth it!” His laughter told the story more than he did as he tried to breathe through his wheezes.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and playfully scowled at him. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait and I’ll come up with something better. Then you can shit in your pants.”

The room erupted in laughter as they continued to reminisce, their stories intertwining - each one as if it was a new page of a book. Taehyung shared about the times when he went up to stage with Yeontan, his music videos, his first times as a solo artist. The other boys shared their own stories and experiences on that too. Jimin said, “There was this one fan duing the call, her words really made a lasting impact.”

As they all sat together, the conversations shifted to the future - their dreams and aspirations. Namjoon, one for an ever-lasting optimism, suggested that they each share a New Year’s resolution.

One by one, each member shared their hopes and dreams - from practicing harder to improving their skills, to taking care of their mental and physcial health, to using their platfrom to make a more positive impact of their fans and society.

“And food!” Jungkook shot up. “Can’t forget having more yummy food!”

Everybody burst out laughing. “Yeah Kook, we’ll have more food this year.”

As the night wore on, you found yourself watching them with a smile on your face. They found comfort in each other’s presence, embracing hte joy of being together as a family. They laughed, danced, sang, and made hte beginning of new memories for the year.

Finally, as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the windows, they gathered for their last toast. With their glasses raised high, they made a collective vow ot support and love each other and their fans no matter what challenges come either way.

As the room filled with the sounds of their voices, they knew that together, they could conquer anything. With hearts full of hope and joy, they welcomed the New Year, ready to face the future hand in hand.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x oc #bts x fem!reader #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios

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