#I worked so hard and spent so much money to make sure it was perfect

[bvidzsoo]

Grease and Oil

⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳

TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it

Word count: 5,6k

A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!

            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.

I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.

“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”

Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”

He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.

“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.

“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.

“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”

Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.

“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.

“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.

“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”

Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”

Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.

“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.

“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.

            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.

“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.

“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.

And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”

“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.

“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.

“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”

“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”

Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.

“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.

“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”

“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”

I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.

“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.

“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.

“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.

“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.

“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.

“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.

“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.

“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”

Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.

“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.

            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.

“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.

“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”

My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.

“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”

I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.

“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”

But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.

“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.

“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.

“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.

“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”

Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”

His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”

“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”

“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.

“That we should go for a second round—”

“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”

Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”

“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.

“I thought I smelled hot—”

“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”

“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”

“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.

“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.

“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.

“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.

“Goodbye, Mingi.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.

Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?

Masterlist

#bvidzsoo #cromernet #song mingi #mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi smut #mingi drabble #song mingi drabble #mingi scenarios #song mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #song mingi imagine #ateez drabbles #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez university au #ateez mechanic au

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #valentino x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

[helen-with-an-a]

I need to be perfect

Hi. So I kinda don't like this, but I kinda do at the same time, and I wasn't quite sure how to end it. It was also a really good request so I might use the prompt again in another way. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x Reader (Platonic)

Description: R needs to be perfect and doesn't know how to stop.

Word Count: 2.4k

“When I say ‘jump’, you say ‘how high, coach?’ Got it?” The overweight, middle-aged man with an awful comb-over had shouted to you when you were just 9 years old. His methods were basically abuse, but he produced superstars. And that is what you were going to be. A superstar. It didn’t help that you already had perfectionist tendencies, and your parents were pushy – always expecting brilliance. No, not even brilliance. The best, you had to be the best. Perfect. Flawless. Faultless. Textbook. There was no other choice.

It was no surprise that Barca had come knocking when you were barely 16. You had mixed emotions: elation that Barcelona wanted you, happiness that you could leave the cruel atmosphere you lived in, fear that you weren’t as good as they may have thought, and nervousness that you needed the horrendous conditions to thrive.

Again. More. That wasn’t good enough. You’re not trying. You need to be better. Again. Again. Again.

You had seen the media asking how Barcelona could have signed a 16-year-old rising young talent from a lower league club. The world expected you to be great, Barca expected you to be great, and your parents expected you to be great.

But you didn’t feel great. Not at first. You had turned up to pre-season and noticed how far behind you were from your teammates. You hadn’t considered that it was because they were almost double your age and had been at the club or other high-level ones for years. You were struggling slightly to get the drills – Catalan was the preferred language, and you were still barely competent in Spanish. When the season started, you weren’t used as a sub very much, making your debut in November about 85 minutes into the match. You didn’t get your first start of the season until February. You had gone from being the best in the team at your old club to being a mere blip on the team sheet.

You are useless. You can’t even make it as a sub? You are a waste of time and money. All the effort we spent on you.

Your parents weren’t helping the situation. You already had the voice in your head telling you you weren’t good enough, and the constant barrage of texts, voicemails, and phone calls after another match where you weren’t used was starting to get to you.

So, you started to push yourself. After a season of being on the sidelines too much, you knew you needed to start working harder. You didn’t realise that Jonatan had been hoping to use this first year to let you get accustomed to Spain, the style of play and build your fitness. At first, it was nothing major. You stayed late a few days a week to work on drills, set pieces and technical skills. But then it was staying late every day you had training. And then coming in early. And then you began to run to training, leaving your bags in the locker room overnight for you to go and get changed. And then you began to run back from training, too. And then you added extra at-home workouts (nothing too crazy in the beginning; mainly yoga that turned into Pilates, which turned into an additional 2 hours of bodyweight exercises). For some strange reason, you had been allowed to live by yourself. You think that it was because so many of the girls lived nearby. Ingrid and Mapi lived in the same building as you. Lucy lived on the same road as you, as did Keira, Ona and Aitana. Alexia lived less than a ten-minute walk away, and you were within easy driving distance of everyone else. But because you lived alone, no one noticed how much you were putting your body through, even on your days off and mid-season breaks.

But the hard work was paying off. You started the next season well; pre-season had gone fantastically, and your name appeared on the Starting XI for the first match of the season. It stayed there throughout the year. You had also broken into a constant starter for your national team.

Again. Again. Again. Be better. Do better. Worthless. Poor. Again. Again

You couldn’t see a problem with it. You were fast, strong, technical, good, and great. You were going on two years at Barca, thriving, and playing your best football. You were barely 18, yet you had already been nominated for the Ballon d’Or. Everything was brilliant football-wise. You had to keep going. You couldn’t stop.

Do better. Awful. Again. Be better. Shocking. Rubbish. Useless. Horrible. Again

It was your day off after an intense few weeks when the truth came crashing to the ground. The Champions League had started up again, and a series of away games took place in a short space of time. It was hard with long days away from the comfort of your own home, and your daily routine was not helping the situation. Everyone could tell you weren’t ok – but they assumed it was from the travel. Lucy had picked up a cold or something, Keira was tired, Aitana and Pina were a little achy, and Alexia and Frido were more vigilant over the needs of their bodies. Everyone was exhausted. But you had to keep going. You couldn’t stop.

In your constant pressure to improve, you failed to notice Alexia’s troubled stares, Marta’s questioning looks, Patri’s concerned glances, and Irene’s worried gazes. They knew how hard you pushed yourself … almost. They knew you stayed every day after training, and they were a little concerned. But they didn’t know the extent of it. Not in the slightest.

It was El Clasico. Real Madrid vs Barcelona. A historic rivalry. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep until May, but that wasn’t an option. Everything was fine. You were on the score sheet, winning and playing great football. And then Athenea slid in for a tackle, catching you on your ankle in precisely the wrong spot. You tried (successfully) not to cry, but you couldn’t help the pained gasp that escaped your mouth. Alexia had been by your side instantly, ushering the medics over and holding you in place with her Captain’s stare.

“It’s your ankle, sí?” Alexia knew it was a matter of time before an injury came for you. If only she had stepped in sooner and helped you from overworking yourself. She helped you to your feet and walked you to the dugout.

“What? No! Ale, I’m fine. See,” You stood on your sore foot to prove your point. It hurt like nothing else you’d experienced, but it was fine; you just needed to walk it off.

“No, you sit the rest of this game out, get re-assessed back home and then we see if you can play.” She said with a note of finality as you huffed, turning around and walking off before you could comment.

Terrible. Awful. Be better. Dreadful. Terrible. Hopeless. Incompetent.

You knew it was silly. Your ankle was not ok, but you needed to train. It had been 2 days since El Clasico, and you were forced not to train yesterday, but it had been a travel day, so there wasn’t much you could do. It would be fine; you had trained on injuries before. You had waited until you knew the team would be out on the pitch as you snuck into the gym. Your ankle was heavily taped, but that was fine. You could put some pressure on it – that was all you needed.

You were determined to get at least a little run in. Just a gentle jog, really, barely above walking. Just a quick 5km. Nothing too crazy. You couldn’t afford to stop training, not after everything you have worked for. With your face in a determined expression and the idiocy of a terrified teenager, you got to work. You started on the bike. The movement was a little painful, but it raised your heart rate and got blood flowing. As you moved across the equipment, the door to the gym flew open.

“Qué crees que estás haciendo?” Alexia roared, making you jump out of your skin. Your first thought was that you hadn’t spent enough time on the bike, that she was angry at you for not working hard enough. For stopping. For taking a breather. “You are injured! Why the fuck are you not resting?” Alexia stormed over to you – she seemed angry. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes were dark and stormy, and her mouth was a hard line. She was angry at you. Why was she telling you to rest? Rest? You couldn’t rest. You had to be better. Keep working harder. Push yourself to be the best.

“I …” You couldn’t answer her, you couldn’t make her angrier. You couldn’t disappoint her. “I’m sorry. I just needed some water. I’m starting again in a minute.” You rushed to get your explanation to her. She needed to know you weren’t stopping. You were just moving to a different exercise. You weren’t slacking.

“Again? What have you done already?” She wasn’t calming down. If anything, you were making her angry. With the lack of sleep, the mental exhaustion, the injury, it was becoming too much for you. Tears clouded your vision, Alexia becoming foggy as you tried to stop the emotions from bubbling up.

“I was just moving from the bike. I’ll start running now. I’m sorry. I’m not stopping, I promise.” You were a mess as you moved to start the treadmill.

Alexia stopped to look at you. Really, look at you. Your tired eyes, your dark circles and your sickly skin. The fatigue was evident in the way you stood; your body seemed too heavy for you to hold up. You also looked terrified. She couldn’t work out why, though. Yes, she was angry. A trainer had come into the medical room wondering who had cleared you for exercise. Alexia knew no one had done so; they had told her after the match that it would be 2 weeks or so before you could rejoin training at any level (after the string of injuries, the medical staff were also over-cautious in their assessments of minor injuries). So, she knew you were doing this against their advice. And that made her mad; it was one thing to push yourself in training despite coaches telling you not to overdo it but another to actively go against medical advice. But looking at you, she knew you hadn't asked for medical clearance. You were just a scared little girl.

“No, Chiquita. No, running.” Alexia was a lot calmer now, seeing your lip wobble and your eyes blink rapidly—clearly holding back tears.

“I have to. I can’t stop. I need to be better.” You whispered, ashamed of your perceived weaknesses.

“Cariño,” she cooed, reaching out to you. You flinched, not used to kind touches. Any touches you had received from coaches or captains were ones that would push you into running more, doing more drills, and practicing more set pieces. “Pequeña. You’re injured. You need to rest, mi amor.”

“I can’t rest. I need to train. I need to be better, do better.”

“No, Chiquita. You don’t. You need rest; you need to get well again.” Alexia stepped forward. She could see the war raging in your head – the desire to stop but the need to keep going. “Cariño?” Her kindness made you break. You launched yourself at her, arms wrapping around her neck as you cried into her. “Oh, amor. You’re ok. Está bien. Todo está bien. Prometo. Usted puede parar.” You sobbed into her shoulder, tears dampening her shirt as you howled. Everything was too much. You hurt, you needed to sleep, you wanted to stop, and yet you couldn’t. The voice in your head told you to keep going. Your parents and old coaches told you you weren’t allowed to stop. It was far, far, far too much for you.

“Neña, deep breaths. In … and out … vamos … in … and out.” Alexia instructed as you were becoming hysterical. She made her breaths exaggerated, slow and obvious, helping you to match hers. “Bien hecho, pequeña,” she pressed gentle kisses to your head as she eventually slowed down. “Y/N, I am not angry at you; no one is. But I need to know why you are in here and not at home resting.” Alexia implored, her hazel eyes looking directly at yours.

“I can’t stop,” you said meekly, slightly ashamed of your outburst.

“No entiendo. You can’t stop what?” She spoke slowly, like you would to a child or a scared animal.

“I can’t stop training. I need to be better. I need to do more,” you said, getting agitated—at her lack of understanding or at yourself. You weren’t quite sure.

“Amor, why do you need to be better?” Alexia was truly at a loss. You were so talented; you didn’t need to be better.

“Because everyone says so. They say so.” You looked so fragile and nervous, eyes darting around the room, your fingers twisting around each other.

“Who is ‘they’?”

“My parents … my old coaches.”

“Chiquita, listen to me. You do not need to be better. You are more than enough. You are so, so talented. You work so hard. But pushing yourself will not be good for you, the team, or anyone else. You need to rest, slow down, and allow your body to heal.”

With Alexia’s kind questioning, she soon got to the bottom of everything. You had told her about the harshness you had experienced from a young age, the disappointment and anger your parents had expressed during your first season at Barcelona, and the voice in your head telling you to keep pushing. She knew you had a way to go, but with gentle reminders and constant check-ins, you learnt how to quieten the voices. Training became easier, your home was no longer a place to get more workouts in, and you finally stopped listening to the devils in your life and started paying attention to the angels.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was all they could hope for.

I hope you enjoyed it. It was kinda short and I don't know if I really like the ending but yeh.

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso #womens football #woso angst

[hopeluna]

For the Cupid!! 14 with mammon 18+ fem reader please!!!

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ — Valentine's day event ˎˊ˗

Prompt 14: “i think i deserve a kiss.”

CW: mammon x fem!reader, 18+ mdni!!, gonna be honest this is just porn with little plot, jealous mammon, sex (p in v), oral (f receiving), some mild biting cause its hot shush, overstimulation (m receiving), very slight exhibitionism (Lucifer hears ya'll going at it), also some fluff too <3

Wc: 1.3k

⁀➷ cupid: I hope u like your match!

This was definitely going to go on Mammon's list of worst valentine's days.

But let's rewind a little bit.

Mammon had spent the past few weeks trying to come up with the most perfect plan for the entirety of valentine's day for you. He had even worked his ass off tirelessly for the previous months. First, he was going to take you to breakfast at your favourite cafe; then he was going to whip up the tickets to the fair you had always wanted to go to; buy you gifts with his own hard work earned money. Later, he was going to lead you to the fancy restaurant that just opened a month before, and show you his handmade gifts.

Mammon had every little detail planned out to make this day memorable for you.

The day was going as planned at first. You seemed like you had a good time getting breakfast in the cafe, and the content smile on your face made way for a beaming grin on his. A grin that only stretched more at your excited face when he showed you the fair tickets. Mammon was sure his heart was melting at the way you hugged him, ecstatic.

It was at the fair that things started to go downhill. As much as he loved his brothers, he wished that they would disappear from Devildom for this one day.

You bumped into Beel at the fair, his arms carrying a mountain of food items. He looked so excited to see you and practically dragged you both off with him to try out all the food stalls. Mammon had to pinch himself to keep from whining out in frustration.

Beel was not going to leave the fair anytime soon, that much was clear. So when Mammon made a stuttering excuse and lead you out of there, he thought that would be the end of it. No two minutes later, you ran into Asmo.

He managed to keep you busy for about half an hour with declarations of love until Mammon and you made a run for it as soon as Asmo had his back turned to both of you.

Then it was Satan, trying to pursue you to go to a cat cafe with him; when you finally got home, there was Levi with a gleam in his eyes asking you to play a valentine's day themed game he had just gotten.

You could tell Mammon was worked up when he ignored his brother and swiftly dragged you by the hand to your room, shutting the door with a thud, his back to you.

"Mamm-", you're startled at first, soon melting into the fierce kiss Mammon pulls you in. Its not the usual loving, almost shy kiss Mammon gives you; this one is all tongue and teeth, a gasp escaping you when he bites down hard on your lower lip before swiping his tongue over it. It's a harsh kiss, laced with envy and is possessive. You can't help the moan that escapes you, already feeling heat spread in your body.

"Everybody- ", he backs you towards the bed, "- fucking thinks- ", Mammon nips at your jaw, laying you spread on the bed "- that they can have you." you whimper at the harsh way he trails bites and kisses down your neck. "They can't- you're mine."

You grasp at his arms, one knee hooked around his hip. You flip him, switching positions before straddling his lap. "I'm yours." you smirk at the moan he lets out when you grind on the bulge straining through his pants.

Mammon's hands fall on your hips, ceasing their movements. You're confusion melts away when he gently motions your hips up his body, past his stomach, his chest- settling you hovering right above his mouth.

"Want you- want you soak my face", you feel a hot flush creep up the back of your neck, hips moving on their own in search of friction. You both let out a moan in unison when Mammon pulls aside your underwear, swiping his tongue over the length of your cunt.

His moans soon become muffled as he grasps your hips, eating you out like his very life depended on it.

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut in pleasure when you look down at Mammon. You can see the slick drenching his cheek and chin. His tongue alternating between sucking on your little bundle of nerves and dipping into your clenching wet hole. The sight has your mind reeling, hips grinding harder against his tongue chasing release.

Mammon's muffled moans only spur you on. He seems like he's enjoying this more than you are.

You reach your breaking point when he gives you a particular harsh, lewd suck- eyes flitting down only to see him already staring up at you with lust gleaming in his eyes.

Mammon keeps licking at your cunt even after, only relenting with a whine when you move away to straddle his lap once again. Mammon sits up, back resting on the headboard. Your head swims in desire watching him lick away at your slick on his chin, letting out a breathy moan as if it's the most delectable dessert.

The lust in his eyes gets replaced by something playful for a second. He sends a pout your way, lips jutting out, shining with saliva.

"I think I deserve a kiss, with the day that i've had!"

You laugh at the dramatic way his head rolls back to rest on the headboard, face stricken with fake grief. You decide to indulge him for once without any teasing.

"You know what? I think you do." Mammon's head snaps up, face lit. He pulls you into a kiss, a sweet one this time, laced with adoration, some lewdness seeping in at the way you can taste yourself a little bit on his tongue.

Mammon swallows your moan greedily when he moves his hips beneath you, your head falls limply at the crook of his neck, still sensitive from your last orgasm. You huff in amusement when Mammon hastily pulls away his and your clothes, melting into him with a content sigh at the skin to skin contact.

"Lift your hips up for me, baby"

You moan lightly, the head of his hard cock catching at your entrance, making the wettest squelch sound when you move your hips down and down and down, till you're fully seated, hips flush.

You take a moment before moving, savouring the delicious burn of his cock stretching you out. Desperate moans and curses spill from Mammon's kiss-swollen lips when you start to move your hips, grinding and bouncing erratically. The pleasure too much for you to bear.

Mammon leans in, burying his face in your neck. You think its innocent until you feel a sharp sting that only seems to spur you on even more, bouncing up and down harshly on his cock.

The sound of skin slapping and wet squelches seemed to echo in the room and your mind. What tips Mammon over the edge is when he looks down at where your cunt is swallowing him greedily, a ring of white coating the base of his cock.

You follow right behind him, relishing in the feel of his cum spurting in you-

The sound of knocking on wood intertwines with the quiet laboured breaths in the room.

Lucifer's voice rings out, calling your name. Mammon's lips pull down into a frown at the thought of getting interrupted again. Your own lips pull up into a smirk as a idea crosses your mind.

Mammon lets out a choked noise when you grind your hips against his, a noise loud enough to fill the silence of the room. Loud enough to go through the door. And if that wasn't enough, more moans spill out from Mammon when you begin to bounce on his lap, the noise echoing.

Mammon calls out your name laced in a whimper, "shit- i can't- "

You huff a chuckle when you hear the retreating footsteps outside the door a moment later.

You hear Mammon mumble under his breath, almost not catching what he says-

"Happy fucking valentine's day to me-" you cut him off with another roll of your hips.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

#obey me x reader #obey me mammon x reader #om! mammon #mammon x reader #mammon smut #obey me smut #obey me fluff #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x y/n #obey me mammon smut #mammon x mc #mammon x you #mammon x reader smut #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x you #obey me oneshot #omswd x reader #omswd #om x reader #om mammon #obey me! #om x mc #obey me mammon #mammon x y/n #omswd smut #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me fanfic #♡! 18+

[eddiesghxst]

a very big thank you to my bby @mmunson86 bc she listens and entertains all of my random ass bursts of inspo and helped me decipher the plot to these two babies (and many many others hehe), ilysm stinky 🤍

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: older!NASCAR driver!eddie munson x pop singer!reader

summary: Eddie's a famous former NASCAR driver who now does paint jobs for celebrities, and you just so happen to need a paint job

contains: oral (f receiving), banter, flirting, and eddie being head over heels for reader <3

word count: 2k

| nascar!eddie x pop singer!reader masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Thursday is Eddie’s favorite day.

One more day til the weekend, things are slow at the shop, and Bug, the detailer, usually pays for lunch. So, Eddie’s usually pretty fucking happy on Thursday— usually. However, it’s hard to be happy when you wake up to a music video of a famous pop singer crashing the car you’d just spent weeks working on.

Now, Eddie’s all for creativity and expressing art in different forms of destruction, but it’s hard to see the art in smashing a brand new McLaren, freshly painted and detailed by none other than Eddie Munson himself. Sure, you paid for it, so it’s basically a waste of your money, but it’s also a waste of Eddie’s time and work.

“Turn this song off, Bug,” Eddie grumbles from under his mask, focused on spraying fine lines of paint onto the car in front of him. It’s your song.  The song that you’d smashed Eddie’s car into smithereens for. That being said, even if Eddie is utterly and incredibly displeased with how you’d decided to treat Eddie’s hard work, his heart skips a beat when he hears the familiar tone of your voice, “You don’t like my music, Munson?”

Eddie pauses his task, blinking a few times to clear the possibility of the paint fumes finally getting to his head and making him hallucinate. And if Eddie’s hallucinating, then his brain is quite vivid because the click of your heels is drawing closer and closer with the smell of your sweet perfume.

Eddie puts the spray gun back on the cart next to him and stands up, facing you as you approach him. Eddie sighs, tipping his head to the side as he removes his gloves. This isn’t the first time he’s met you; no, he met you when he dropped the car off at your film set. You were kind and soft-spoken, with a pretty smile and voice that made Eddie’s chest erupt in butterflies he hadn’t felt in years. You were gorgeous then, and you’re gorgeous now, standing in front of him with that sinister little glint in your eyes.

You’re a pretty young thing, that much is obvious, but it doesn’t negate the fact that you crashed Eddie’s car.

“How can I help you, doll?”

You smile, tipping your head as you watch Eddie remove the mask from his face, tossing it onto the tool cart along with the disposable gloves. “Need a paint job for my new car. Wanted the best in town.” You sweetly say.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “A paint job?”

You blink up at Eddie, pretty eyes and cute lashes batting up at him. God, you’re perfect. It's no wonder why the entire world is head over heels in love with you.

“You crashed my car, honey.” Eddie points out.

Your hopeful gaze falters then, lips dipping into a ghost of a frown, “It wasn’t my idea.” You respond. “You crashed my car. For a music video,” he drawls, “Do you know how much time I spent on that car?”

Bug seems to take that as his cue to leave because suddenly he’s tossing his tool in his toolbox and calling over his shoulder, “Goin’ to lunch, boss.” And there goes Eddie’s free lunch.

A flash of guilt passes through your eyes before you huff with a roll of your eyes, shifting to lean on one foot as you cross your arms over your chest, “It wasn’t your car.” 

“It’s got my work written all over it.”

“Again, it wasn’t my idea.”

Eddie tilts his head, lips pouting as he shrugs mockingly, in a way. “But you went with it.”

Eddie had been slowly walking you backward across the empty garage, pressing and pressing until you reached his parked car, your body coming to a sudden stop with a hitch in your breath. You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes for the second time, “Well, I was filming a music video. I just do what they tell me to and look pretty— it’s kind of my job, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes fall to your lips for a split second.

You lick your lips, cocking your head to the side as you gaze up at him, “Obviously.”

Eddie’s lips twitch like he wants to smile, a smirk lingering in his tone as he mocks you, “Obviously.”

“You really don’t like my music?”

You feel like you’re losing your mind. Not only are you standing in the famous Munson’s Paint & Body garage, but you’re standing face to face with the Eddie Munson— famous former NASCAR driver and hot as fuck body man.

It’s like all those Sundays you spent back in high school watching him race as your dad bet money with his friends on who would win are flashing before your eyes. Okay, so you’re fangirling a little bit; who wouldn’t? It’s Eddie fucking Munson.

“Never said I didn’t like your music; I just don’t like the fact that you crashed my car.”

And well, you feel bad. You didn’t know the car would get hurled off a cliff in the middle of the California desert, but it was a little late to protest against that when it was flying through the wind at 90 miles per hour with literal flames decorating the wheels.

“I’m sorry,” you finally apologize. “I shouldn’t have let them destroy your car… which was technically my car for my music video.” You and Eddie share a playful gaze, but it’s soon overthrown with something lustful when Eddie reaches out, fingers toying with the waistband of your denim skirt. “You’re playing with fire, princess.” He lowly says.

You hum, tipping your head as he towers over you, bodies pressing against one another as you dance along the edge of the thick line of tension, “Wanna do something about it?” A sly smirk and glinting brown eyes have you weak in the knees, your body heating up like a fucking furnace as the man silently gazes at you. 

It’s like the spread of wildfire when he presses his lips against yours, a warm hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses you against the hood of his car. Your skirt is short, and it rides up when he maneuvers you further up the hood. You let out a shaky breath against his lips when the cool metal of the car meets the hot skin of your thighs.

You’d be lying if you hadn’t somewhat come here with the intention of getting your hands on the handsome older man— there’s no denying there was some kind of energy bouncing between the two of you when you briefly met him on the set of your music video. Eddie’s got a way of looking at you with daring yet respectful eyes that make you want to pounce— he had it then when you first met, and he has it now.

He’s pawing at you like he’s addicted, big hands grasping at your sides as he practically devours you. It’s sloppy and wet and so fucking addicting you wish you didn’t have to breathe so you could just keep kissing him.

He’s slinking his hands down to your thighs, hooking them into the crooks of your knees and pressing them up, spreading you wide for him as he kisses down your neck. He reaches one hand up, tugging down at your shirt to give him room to mark the swell of your breasts. Your breath hitches when your bare nipple meets the cool air, and he laves his tongue over it, “W-what about— fuck.” You whimper as Eddie hums, kissing further down your body and fully pushing up your denim skirt to mouth at your thighs. You press your thighs closer together, pressing up onto your elbows to gaze down at Eddie as he kneels between your legs.

“What about your employees?” You ask.

Eddie mouths at your thigh, kneading at the fat of your skin as he speaks, “Just me and Bug today. Open up, baby.” His brown eyes are like swirling hypnotic pools, and your body moves in accord with his directions, thighs parting to show him the damp material of your flimsy panties.

Eddie groans, leaning forward to drag his tongue up the damp spot before gently nipping at the material. He’s impatient, so he only hooks his thumb in the hem of the cotton and hooks it off to the side, keeping it pinned beneath his thumb so he has full access to your dripping cunt. He doesn’t waste time, laving his tongue from your opening up to your clit, teasingly running the tip of his tongue in circles over your sensitive bud just to hum at the pitiful whimpers and whines that escape your mouth. 

Your eyes roll when he closes his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking and teasing until you’re fully moaning, reaching down to thread your fingers into his curly locks, knuckles curling at the root to gently tug him deeper into your cunt.

“Yeah, yeah,” He breathes, “Fuck my face, princess, there we go.” It’s so wet, his voice, so wet and eager and mind-numbingly gorgeous.

He teases two thick fingers at your entrance before sinking them into you and curling them in a come hither motion. Your legs twitch to close around his head, “Oh, fuck. Fuck, Eddie, I’m so close.”

You’re teetering on the edge, heat brewing in your lower tummy as Eddie devours you like it’ll be his last fucking meal. The lights overhead are bright, and there’s heavy metal playing from the shop speakers. Still, all you can bring yourself to focus on is the sinful drag of Eddie’s tongue up and down the entirety of your cunt, sticky strings of arousal and spit smearing all over your thighs and his face, and your moans increase in volume when he slinks a hand up to squeeze at your chest.

His fingers are gentle yet overwhelming as they pet at your sensitive spot, and before you know it, you’re body is tensing, and you’re coming around his thick digits, soaking his chin as you fail to keep your thighs open and sounds to a minimum.

Eddie doesn’t mind, though, it seems, because he only moans and nuzzles his face deeper into your pussy, greedily licking into you like it’s his last chance— and hopefully it’s not.

You must have spaced out because, between the immense pleasure and the sinfully beautiful sight of Eddie between your thighs, you seem to only come back to earth once Eddie places your panties back over your pussy, pressing a gentle kiss to your covered and aching clit.

He snickers when you twitch in overstimulation, “You’re real cute when you cum, you know?” He says before pressing a kiss into your thigh. You huff out a laugh, leaning on your elbows to watch as he stands up to hover over you, pressing his palms into the hood of the car on either side of your blissed-out body. “Thank you?” You say. Eddie laughs, eyes twinkling with admiration as he gazes down at you.

“I’ll cut you a deal, alright?” He starts. Though your mind is still foggy with the lingering effects of your orgasm, your eyes narrow in suspicion as you tell Eddie to continue. Eddie sighs, leaning in further, “You let me take you on a date, and I’ll paint your car— I’ll also forget all about you crashing my car.”

Even if you want to point out that the car wasn’t Eddie’s, yet again, you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips as you give in and nod, “Okay. One date.”

Eddie beams, raising an eyebrow as he responds, “Yeah?” You want to lean in and kiss him, but you think the heat of the moment from before had been fuel to the boldness that you’re now lacking.

You nod before holding up your index finger, “One,” you stress, “No promises for a second. I don’t have another car for you to paint.” You joke, but Eddie only shrugs with a smug look.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got enough cars for you to last a lifetime of dates.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things au #nascar!eddie #older!eddie #older!eddie smut #eddie munson x singer!reader #nascar!eddie x reader #older!eddie x reader

[kingkatsuki]

— when you stand up for him

Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+, v v suggestive, Bakugou’s always having nasty thoughts about you, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.9k.

Since you’d started working at Dynamight’s agency you’d found out firsthand how defamatory the media could be. There was often a mixture of positive and negative headlines for all the Pro-Heroes in the top fifty, some more negative than others. Cellophane had been stuck in a messy situation just last week when a saucy text chain had been leaked to the press, the lewd messages accompanied by a rather salacious picture of him in a state of undress. Obviously an attempt by the media to paint him in a bad light, but it actually ended up thrusting him into the top ten.

“He woulda sent that fuckin’ dick pic to anyone that asked.” Bakugou scoffed when you’d told him, grinning at the cheesy headline “Cellophane stuck in a sticky situation.”

But in particular, the media seemed hellbent on making a villain out of Dynamight. A well-known fact that they knew sold papers. His brash personality and fiery quirk made him an easy target for those sleazy tabloids to ridicule. Painting the perfect picture of Number One Pro-Hero Deku, and demonising the Number Two who was always hiding in his shadow.

Of course, the media scrutiny didn’t bother Bakugou much, far used to these words for them to have any real bite. The judgement seemed to have followed him since he was a teenager, and he’d spent the better part of his adult years trying to prove himself through his actions. And although you didn’t know it, your opinion meant far more to Bakugou than a handful of gossip magazines.

It wasn’t unusual for these reporters to call through to the Dynamight agency, especially after a successful mission. Each outlet wanting to be the first to get the scoop hot off the press from the main man himself, but fortunately for Bakugou you were the final roadblock between them and the Pro-Hero.

Most of the time you could weed through the good calls and the bad, finding the best opportunities for Dynamight to showcase himself to the world and add those precious boosts to his hero ranking. Knowing firsthand how much Bakugou hated any kind of interview environment, preferring to showcase himself through his hard work, you were careful with the engagements that you picked. The few he did were always enough to keep him sitting comfortable in second place.

You groaned when you realised who you’d ended up with on the phone, the lead journalist for The Heroic Choice, a controversial tabloid that had just published a rather scathing article about Pro-Hero Welder. And you were certain judging by the “direct” quotes that most had been stretched out of context to fit their narrative.

“Thanks for taking our call,” The voice spoke on the other end of the line, not that you’d had much choice, “Dynamight hasn’t responded to any of our emails, so I thought it best to try and reach you directly.”

“Yes, well Dynamight’s a very busy hero.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh, we’ve heard. We had a very concerned reader call in earlier to tell us that Dynamight almost killed someone again—” You were already seething at the accusation when the reporter continued, “How many totalled buildings is it this year? The budget must be at breaking point by now, or is it less a budget and more hush money for the victims? Almost as bad as a villain, wouldn’t you agree?”

You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment. Some would probably argue that it was the amount of love that you had built inside you for Bakugou Katsuki that made you want to protect and defend him with your life, or it could’ve just been the fact that being his secretary meant you got to see a side of him that no one else was lucky enough to see. The Hero that dedicated so many hours of his life to protecting the city and its residents, putting his own life at risk to ensure that people made it home safely to their loved ones. The countless amount of times you’d visited him in hospital or done a rather bootleg patch up of his injuries in his office after hours. The scars that now littered his body each held their own story of a time where Dynamight put others before himself, and you weren’t about to let some gossipy B-rate magazine besmirch him. Especially to try and call him, the man that would give his life for others, a villain.

So you did what Bakugou probably would’ve done, you exploded.

You weren’t even sure where it came from, certain in the months that you’d been working for Dynamight you’d never once let your temper get the best of you, even with particularly troublesome callers. His personality must have been rubbing off on you, as you continued to argue back and forth with the man on the phone, your voice increasing in power the more he argued back.

The noise roused Bakugou from his mission report, crimson eyes looking up from his laptop as he tried to make out the shouting on the other side of his office wall. Pushing his desk chair back as he dropped his glasses on top of his laptop he made his way towards the hallway, thinking that another person was harassing you for some kind of Dynamight endorsement deal again. Tugging open the door Bakugou prepared himself to tell whoever it was to leave and stop pissing off his secretary but he was shocked to see you shouting on the phone.

“Dynamight is the greatest Hero of our generation and we’re lucky to have someone like him protecting our streets. There’s no telling what could happen if we didn’t have him. Did you know violent crime is down twelve percent since he entered the top ten? And that’s not including the crime syndicates he’s managed to infiltrate in the last three months—”

Bakugou had to stop in the doorframe at the sound of you listing off facts about him so effortlessly. Mouth agape like a fish out of water as he began to wonder who you were on the phone to, and how they had managed to rile you up to this extent.

You hadn’t even noticed him standing there as you continued to berate the caller, asking them whether they had looked up any crime statistics or whether they were just interested in a sleazy headline.

Bakugou didn’t know what to say, standing outside his office as he stared at you between furrowed brows. After hearing shouting outside, he hadn’t expected it to be coming from you, and he definitely hadn’t expected it to be because you were defending him to the media.

It had Bakugou’s chest swelling with pride as he continued to hear you list of reasons why Dynamight would never do an interview with The Heroic Choice, not that he needed you to tell them that. He could’ve easily given them his own list of reasons, the main one being their scathing reviews of anyone other than Pro-Hero Deku. His throat felt dry as he watched your eyes darken as you continued to argue with them on the phone, nostrils flared as he tried to fight the blood rushing directly between his thighs.

God, you were so fuckin’ perfect.

He’d never had anyone defend him to such a level, and it made it even more special that it happened to be you doing it— the woman he was so madly in love with. Even the shy, wide-eyed look you gave him when you noticed him watching you made his heart flutter as you exchanged the last few words with the tabloid over the phone.

You’d been so heated you hadn’t even noticed Bakugou shamelessly ogling you while you were on the telephone, although you were certain he’d heard you. Your voice at least a few octaves louder than necessary, but you couldn’t help it. The realisation you had an audience now dawning on you as you gave your boss a sheepish smile.

“I’m so sorry about that, sir.” You practically gushed as soon as you slammed the phone down, which immediately began ringing again, “It just makes me so mad, they talk like they know you but they really don’t know you at all—”

“Next time, get me.” He rasped, mainly because you didn’t deserve dealing with assholes like that on the phone, but also because Bakugou wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive you taking another call like that without blowing his load in public. The thought of having to spend the rest of the day in damp boxers had him squirming as he turned around.

“Yes, sir. I know I should’ve, but he made me so angry. I’m sorry.” No matter how many times he told you not to call him sir, you would do it anyway and it did nothing to quell the ache in his pelvis.

“Take five.” Bakugou grumbled.

“Thank you si— Bakugou.” You stopped yourself with a smile as you stood up from the desk hesitantly.

Bakugou practically waddled back into his office, trying to conceal the tent between his thighs from your praise. The overprotective words had his cock throbbing as he tried to calm his racing heart, and it didn’t help you’d said his name. Slamming his office door a little harder than intended as he pressed his back to the hardwood. Eyes screwed shut as Bakugou made a feeble attempt at steadying his breathing, before glaring down at the obvious bulge. Silently willing it to disappear as he prayed you hadn’t seen it.

But Bakugou had left so abruptly with barely a word that you began to worry that you’d done the wrong thing, remembering Creati’s words one evening when she had been visiting the agency. “All press can be good press if you orchestrate it correctly.” Maybe Bakugou really was mad at you for losing your temper on the phone to one of Musutafu’s biggest tabloids, you’d definitely guaranteed another negative Dynamight article about him. Your eyes glancing over to the shut door to his office as you gnawed your glossed lip between your teeth, pondering whether you should knock on the door to apologise. The phone began to ring again as you were making that decision, opting to pick it up and hopefully do some kind of damage control for his important public image. Hoping that the PR team wouldn’t find out just how hostile you’d been on the phone to a company representative. You had no idea that on the other side of the door, your boss was losing his cool because of you, but not for the reason you thought.

About a week later The Heroic Choice ended up posting their scathing article about Dynamight anyway, although it did little to smear his hero rating. Instead the article seemed to focus on his fiery little secretary who was seemingly even more tenacious than his newly appointed sidekicks.

“Dynamight’s secretary even more explosive than him? More on page six.” It was accompanied by a picture of you that Bakugou was certain they’d managed to take from one of your social media profiles.

You’d been so embarrassed when Bakugou had shown you the magazine with a smirk, highlighting his favourite parts of the article which happened to be the direct quotes of you defending his tenacity and altruism.

What you didn’t know was Bakugou had cut out this article and pinned it to the fridge inside his apartment, grinning at it whenever he passed. The picture they’d picked of you was real fucking pretty after all— it wasn’t his fault that it brought back the memories of you defending him every time he looked at it, his cock standing to attention when he remembered how irate you’d looked that day. Somehow it made you even prettier… But of course, he’d never tell you that.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader

[mrsparrasblog]

Birthday Girl

Plus size Reader x tf141

Is it my Birthday? Yes , did I Imagine four men making me a Special surprise? Yes.

Will the Reader love the surprise? Yes!

The same procedure as every year, you thought, spending your birthday crying. You weren’t sure what it would be this time. Last year, your boyfriend cheated on you; the year before that, everyone forgot your birthday; and the time before that, a family member died. It's like a curse.

This time, you had your vacation planned for the week of your birthday, visiting your family as always. Visiting your family has been harder these days since you accepted a military contract, working as a nurse on base.

Your parents told you all over again how this would be a bad idea; the military wasn’t a place for women like you: soft, sweet, and innocent. But they were wrong. You never felt better than after joining the military. The nurses on base were so nice to you. You had many girls' nights with them, spending the whole day laughing and chatting. And then there were the soldiers. Four specific soldiers.

Kyle: Kyle was the most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life. His face was literally perfection as if the gods themselves sculpted it just for you to admire. He was nice and polite, never screaming at you, even when you stitched him up. He just sat there and smiled. He was your favorite patient, especially since he always brought you something small back from his deployment, mostly sand. So you had a collection of different sands from a variety of countries you'll never visit in your life. He was the first you crushed on. It was easy to fall for him, but hard to have these feelings. Guys like him weren’t made for you; at least you thought so.

Price: The captain was hardly in the infirmary, even when you could see he needed it the most. His knees and back were completely wasted, and he needed them fixed, but he had so much to do, never taking the time to care for himself. You knew from the gossip among the nurses that the captain had a thing for curvier women, admiring the softness in them. You knew how his eyes lingered on your soft, wide hips or your ass. His fingers always twitched, trying to touch you, but both of you couldn’t. "I'm a captain, lovely. If I weren’t, I would have already put a ring on you," he said one day after drinking a bit too much of his whiskey. But you couldn’t have him anyway. How would you explain that your heart ached for four different men?

Soap: He spent every moment he wasn’t on a mission in the gym or eating at the infirmary, coming to you even with the slightest scratch. You fixed him all the time, gushing over his exposed form. He had the most muscles out of everyone. His biceps could crush you in a second, and god, how you loved it. He was a flirt, always calling you Bonnie or Hen in front of everyone. He probably did this with every female on base. Attractive young guy, why should he be interested in you and not some skinny, pretty girl?

Ghost: Falling in love with Ghost wasn’t something you would have thought of ever happening. When you started, he scared the shit out of you with the mask, his looming glance, and the fact that he was built like a brick house. He never came to the infirmary. Well, he wasn’t hurt like the others, but still. At first, he always side-eyed you for your bubbly personality, but it changed quickly. You knew exactly when you fell in love with him. It was the day a rookie pushed you against a wall, trying to have his way with you. It wasn’t like you were a damsel in distress; you were strong and capable; he was just stronger. Ghost saved you that day and many more. He gave you his number, so you’d call him if anything was wrong.

So why were you hesitating to call him right now? You finally dialed the number you knew by heart.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Just a bad day. Can you maybe pick me up? I’ll pay you the gas money," you sobbed.

"20 minutes, no gas money."

He was there at 15, arriving with his bike. You didn’t know he had a bike, but god, it looked good on him with the helmet. It only added to his bad-boy image, which you desperately loved.

He walked towards you, his arms pulling you into a bear hug, and you started to cry, something unusual for him. He wasn’t someone who comforted people in such weakness, but it was okay with you.

"What's wrong, birthday girl?" He knew he remembered your birthday.

"You remember my birthday," you said, removing your hand from his chest, leaving wet stains on his shirt, and looking up at him with your red and puffy eyes.

"Of course, love. Now, tell me what's wrong."

"It's childish."

"Don't care."

"Mom commented the whole day on my weight, telling me to finally lose it or else I'd never find a boyfriend and die as a spinster with seven cats. Dad didn’t even bother to congratulate me, and when my ex-boyfriend appeared with my sister, I lost it."

"Your mom talks bullshit. Some men like their women with a bit more meat on their bones. I do," he admitted while wiping your tears away with his thumb.

"You do?" You asked curiously. You knew Price did, but Ghost too?

"Mhm. Every big boy needs his big girl," he said, making you blush and squirm.

"Can you drive me back to the base?"

"Of course, love. Me and the boys have a surprise for you anyway."

He pulled you onto his bike, placing the helmet on top of your head, destroying your neatly made hair. And so, this was your first bike ride, holding onto him for dear life. Your breasts pressed against his back while you hugged him so you wouldn’t fall. His broad back and shoulders made you feel things. He was indeed a big boy in need of his big girl—in need of you.

After a bumpy ride, he carried you off the motorcycle with ease. He acted like you weighed nothing, and he could carry you for hours.

"So, what's the surprise?"

"Patience, love."

He led you into his and Soap's barracks. You were shaking, desperate to know what would happen. Inside were all four men you desperately wanted for weeks. In front of them was a birthday cake, which was, to be honest, kind of ugly but homemade. They made a cake for you. You couldn’t believe it.

"Aye, Lt. brought you back safely to us. Happy Birthday, Hen."

"Happy Birthday, babe," Kyle said, his beautiful eyes glistering at you. God, he was too pretty for his own good.

"Happy Birthday, Dove," the captain said, removing his fisherman hat and smiling at you.

"You all remembered?" You asked in disbelief.

"Of course, dove. Now we know that you took a liking to all of us, didn’t you?"

You nodded shyly, getting red. How could you be so stupid and fall for four guys at the same time?

"All these weeks we fought about you, and you wanted all of us?" Kyle laughed.

"You fought over me?"

"Don’t act surprised, love. You know that we all wanted you."

You shook your head, and the guys started to laugh. „Hen, do you think I'll go to that bloody hospital for a scar?“.

You could have imagined Price and Ghost like you, but Kyle and Soap too? You slowly sat down on the bed, looking up at the four tall men.

„Mhm, do you want your present now?“ The captain asked you while tucking a strain of your hair behind your ear.

„Depends on whether I like the present.“

„You will love it.“ So you agreed, curious, when Kyle walked towards you just a few inches away from your face, finally kissing you, making you moan desperately while the other boys watched you with a smug smile on their incredibly handsome faces. You noticed the bulges in their pants, and your mind slowly had an idea of what they wanted from you.

„Are you hard?“ You asked as if you weren’t a medical professional.

All four men chuckled at your dumb question: „Now, no need to be shy with us." Soap said, taking a step closer to you and Kyle. His erection was thick and big, not very well hidden beneath the fabric of his washed-out jeans.

They slowly started to remove their pants one by one, leaving them only with their boxers, and God were they hot. You glanced at four six-packs; each body was still different; Soap was bulky and muscular; and Ghost's body was full of scars, making him look even hotter than you thought was possible. Gaz looked like a Calvin Klein model; everything about him was pure perfection, and Price looked like a ducking bear, hairy, strong, and able to scoop you up without a doubt.

Gaz reached over and began to undo the buttons on your shirt, revealing more of your body beneath. His eyes roamed hungrily over your curves as he whispered softly in your ear. "There's no need to be insecure with us. We fucking love your curves.“

„So soft for us, dove." Price said you looked so different than them, soft and innocent, while they were painted for the war crimes they committed.

The men let out a soft murmur of appreciation as they took in your beautifully curvy body. Price stepped forward, his hands skimming over your smooth skin and tracing intricate patterns on your back and legs. "You really are exquisite, aren't you?

„You think so?“

The men exchanged glances, their eyes sparkling with desire.

"Absolutely," Soap assured you, his powerful arms wrapping around your waist. His erection was now fully exposed, pressing against your leg.

"You're breathtaking.“

„God, you’re big,“ and his cock was thick and deliciously veiny.

Ghost smirked at your words as he moved closer to you. His massive cock, way bigger than Soap's or any you've ever seen in your life, brushed against your stomach. "You like big boys, don't you?" he asked teasingly. Which horse was that? You knew it would be big by the way he walked; he just walked like it was big, but that's massive.

"Every Big girl needs her Big Boys"

The men burst out laughing at your words. Price pulled you closer to him, running his hand through your long hair. "You're one hell of a woman," he said admiringly. "You've got the body of a goddess and the mouth of a devil.“

The four men shared another glance before stepping back into sync. They formed a circle around you, creating an intimidating presence. "Now then," Price said slowly, his voice dropping to a low growl that vibrated through your body. "Are you ready for your gift, birthday girl?“

You only nodded in agreement.

With one accord, the four men moved in towards you, their massive erections bobbing and weaving as they approached. "Tonight," Price began, his voice thick with desire, "we're going to give you the best birthday present you've ever had.“

"I don't know if it beats the doll I got when I was six,“ you attempted to pull a joke.

Gaz, Soap, and Ghost all began to touch you in various ways, their hands roaming over your body as Price started to tease your hardened nipple through your bra. "Oh, trust us," Ghost whispered huskily in your ear. "This is going to be an unforgettable birthday.“

Price unclasped your bra and pulled it off, revealing your big breasts. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand groped your other breast, making you already a moaning mess.

Gaz, Soap, and Ghost continued to touch you, their hands moving down to your hips as they pushed your panties aside. "Spread your legs for us," Ghost commanded. And so you did; you were a good nurse, always listening to her lieutenant.

The man's eyes widened at the sight of your soaking wet pussy. They wasted no time in moving in closer, their cocks throbbing with need. "You're dripping for us," Price commented, his voice laced with lust.

„No, I don't.“

Gaz ran his tongue along the inside of your thigh, making his way towards your soaked pussy. "I think you are," he murmured as he began to lap at your folds. "Mhm, so delicious, Captain. Want a taste?“

And Price nodded, letting his thick tongue glide into Kyle's pretty mouth, both sharing the delicious taste of your juices. He pushed Kyle into the soft cushions with his strength, and by the way, Kyle reacted, you knew this wasn’t the first time both of them got intimate with each other.

Price lifted you up effortlessly, positioning your pussy over Gaz's mouth. "Take her, pretty boy," he said with a smirk.

You tried not to put your full weight on his pretty face, much to the annoyance of the boys. „When we say sit on his face, we mean it; suffocate him with your cunt; he doesn’t mind,“ Ghost said, and Kyle only nodded.

„Garrick would be delighted to die between your thick thighs, hen." Soap laughed darkly while slowly stroking his massive, veiny cock.

Kyle reached up to hold onto your hips, keeping you steady as he took more of your weight. His tongue dove deeper into your wet pussy, exploring every inch of your folds. Meanwhile, Price watched intently, his cock twitching with anticipation. The combination of Gaz's skilled tongue and Price and Soap's attentive nipple-sucking sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You couldn't help but grind down on Gaz's face, feeling the heat from his tongue against your sensitive skin.

Gaz knew exactly what you needed and continued his assault on your sensitive folds. As he lapped up your juices, he began to increase the speed and intensity of his tongue movements. His hands roamed up your thighs, seeking out more of your wetness to consume.

With a devilish grin, Ghost moved towards you, his monster cock already leaking pre-cum. He stroked it slowly, watching your reactions as he brought it closer to your mouth. You opened wide, eagerly accepting the thick, throbbing shaft into your warm mouth, moaning as you tasted his salty precum. „Such a good cocksucker for us.“

As Ghost fucked your mouth with his cock, Gaz continued to feast on your pussy, relentlessly licking and sucking at every inch of your sensitive flesh. Meanwhile, Soap gently massaged your ass cheeks, teasing you with his touch. “You recruited such a pretty soft girl for us, Cap.“

The men could sense your impending climax and redoubled their efforts. Ghost thrust deeper into your mouth, his hips slamming against your face as he filled it with his thick cock. His pubic blonde hair tickled against your nose, making you roll your eyes in pleasure.

Gaz sucked harder on your clit, determined to make you cum all over him.

„Oh god, Kyle“

„Making such pretty nice sounds for us, dove“

As your orgasm washed over you, Gaz didn't pull back; instead, he drank in every drop of your juices. He lapped at your pussy eagerly, making sure not a single drop went to waste.

With a smile, Gaz pulled back, his face glistening with your sticky love. He placed you against the bed again, still shaking from what happened.

Soap quickly kneeled next to you, his hard cock pressing against your wet pussy. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "Your turn to ride, darling.

"Mhm, too heavy to ride your soap.“

„You're not even half my warm-up weight, hen." Soap scoffed, being mad that you thought he was such a weakling as if he couldn’t carry you through the whole world without breaking a sweat.

„Make her ready for me, Johnny.“ Ghost eyes darkened.

„Aye, Lt, going to stretch her out for you.“

Soap moaned loudly as you rode him hard, your fat ass bouncing against his balls. He grabbed onto your hips, guiding you up and down his thick cock. Price and Ghost watched in awe, their own arousal growing with each of your movements.

„Change position, Sergeant; I want her to take care of all of us." Price commanded, and of course, like the good boy Johnny, he listened.

Soap picked you up effortlessly, your body wrapping around his cock as he laid you down on the ground. He continued to pound into you, his hips slamming against yours as you stroked Price and Ghost's hard cocks in unison.

"Fuck me harder," you moaned as he pounded into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Soap smiled devilishly as he obeyed your command, thrusting deeper and faster into your wet pussy."Cum for me, baby," Soap panted between thrusts as he felt your walls clenching around him. He couldn't wait to empty his balls inside of you while watching Price and Ghost cum all over your beautiful face.

„Hen, you’re killing me with that thighs little cunt." Soap growled as he finally let go, unleashing his hot cum deep inside of you. You could feel his muscles tense and release as he shot rope after rope of semen into your wet pussy, filling you up completely. You were now lying on the bed like a painting, and the boys were the artists drawing their semen on your face and your gummy walls.

Gaz immediately took his place, positioning himself at your entrance. "Come on, babe, you can take me," he said as he lined up his incredibly long cock with your dripping pussy.

He thrust into you slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being engulfed by your needy hole.

„Need her again, Lt.“ Soap whined, missing your wet heaven again.

„Such a needy, but get on your knees and spread your ass for me, Johnny." Ghost barked at Soap

Price smirked as he watched Soap's ass cheeks spread for Ghost, anticipation building within him. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard on it as he continued to lick and tease the other one. Making you lose up the tension from Kyle's dick hitting places in your pussy you didn’t even know you had. Ge laughed at the bulge forming in your belly; he was just too damn long.

With a devilish grin, Price reached down and rubbed your clit, adding to the chaotic mix of sensations overwhelming you. „She's handling us quite well, isn’t she?“ he teased.

„Yes, Captain,“ the boys said in unison.

Gaz moaned loudly as he thrust into you, his hips slamming against yours in a relentless rhythm. He reached down to play with your other nipple, pinching and pulling it roughly while Price continued to rub your clit."Cum for us, babe," Gaz grunted as he felt your walls clenching around him.

He increased his pace, driving deeper and harder into you as Price's fingers worked their magic on your sensitive nub.

Your body shook with the force of your orgasm as you cried out in pleasure. Gaz held you tightly, his cock throbbing inside you as he felt you milking him dry. "Fuck, babe, I love you; you’re addicting.“

He erupted his hot stick seed in your willing womb, painting you once again white from the inside and marking you as theirs.

„That's it, dove," Price praised, his tone low and rough with satisfaction. Ghost leaned down to kiss you gently on the lips, still tasting himself in your mouth. "You were incredible. Best lay we ever had," Gaz groaned out in agreement, still buried deep inside you.

"Mhm, good birthday gift.“

Price laughed softly as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "It will be hard to top this next year," he teased.

Gaz withdrew from you, his soft but still long cock slipping out of your pussy with a gentle pop.

"I feel empty,“ you complained to them, not wanting this to stop.

„Let’s get you cleaned up," Ghost suggested, reaching for some tissues on the nightstand. He wiped away the excess cum from your breasts and belly, leaving you feeling satisfied yet wanting more.

„You know we love you, dove,“ Price whispered as he snuggled against you, pulling you in one of his big bear hugs.

„All of you?“

„Yes,“ Ghost commented to your surprise.

„I love you too, all of you.“

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #tf 141 #call of duty #smut #tf 141 x reader #john price #tf141 smut #john mactavish x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap cod

[lilbitdepressed27]

Lorraine Day/Fem implied G!Preader

Summary: modern AU you're a helping farm hand at the Days

Warnings: death, violence a little bit.

WC: 4.9k

Author's Note: been wanting to do one for Lorraine. So here it is. Ive also got two AUs for Tara almost done:D. Hopefully they’re done soon. Well hope y'all like it. And like always. Not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes.

It was your second week of working for the Days farm. You had grown around horses and became extremely handed in training horses. Even at such a young age you had a connection with animals. You had grown up wanting to be a veterinarian. Now as senior in high school you landed a job working as a horse trainer. Back in your home town you had helped your grandfather train horses. It was a task you loved doing as a kid. You had missed doing that when you moved to the states a month ago. Your mother also worked for the Days and she told Mr.Day about you.

He had given you a chance and for the past week you had heavenly improved one of the young horses that had been very stubborn. The horse still had his moments but you worked hard to make him listen. You always carried sugar cubes or carrots with you. Using treats to make him listen. It was a way that had always worked for you.

It was a beautiful day outside, the weather was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. It was the perfect type of weather to have Dante (the horse you were training) out and about. You were also helping the horse be around other horses. Mr.Day had said that he had bought Dante from someone who had no idea how to care for a horse. Dante had been alone and had been neglected his first year of life. So it was a little hard for him to get used to other horses.

"You're doing good kid. Look at him it's like he knows you'll give him a treat if he's good." Mr.Day had been observing how you worked with Dante. He had watched from the moment you stepped foot into the paddock, how Dante kept his eyes on you. He had watched how you spoke to the horse in your native language. The way you spoke so softly and gently to Dante. Showing him you weren't going to hurt him. He had watched how you would award Dante for the smallest things with a treat. Showing him he was a good boy. But also being firm with him when he did something bad.

It had taken him and a few others to even attempt to put on the bridle. They had all been unsuccessful. But after two days of you being with Dante he had let you put on the bridles with no hassle. He wasn't going to lie. He had been a bit jealous. He had spent so much money on Dante only for someone else to be the favorite. He smiled nevertheless. Once he was done with his other work he would stop by to see your progress. And he was honestly amazed. Dante had taken such a liking to you.

"All he needed was some love sir." You smiled back at him, fixing your hat. You like Mr.Day he was a nice man. Letting your mom and you work here. The way he interacted with every single one of his workers was admirable.

"What have I-"

You turned at the sound of a van coming down the driveway. The van looked out of place in place like this. You turned back to Dante who nudged you forward. He had been wondering around the paddock with the saddle on his back. You wanted him to get used to it first before getting on. It was the second day of him wearing it.

"Great job Y/n keep up the good work." 

You nodded as he walked away. Going back to work. You handed the half of an apple to Dante who happily took it. You patted his head moving to get on his back. You moved slowly and gently. Making sure not to scare the horse. You sat on his back as he stood still.

"Good boy Dante. Good boy." You reached over and gave him the other half of the apple. You held his reins wanting him to get used to following the direction of the pull.

"You're doing great Dante. You're such a good boy." At the sound of his neighing you smiled and continued the process. Giving him small treats in award for his good behavior.

You had just taken off his saddle after putting him back in his stable after a good day of training. "Good job today buddy. You did good. Now get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow." You closed the gate to his stable after petting his head. You left the stables looking for your mom. It was almost time to leave and you were starving.

"Come on honey. Let's go. The Days are hosting a small party and they invited us. Don't worry I said maybe another time. I know how tired and hungry you get."

You sighed in relief. You weren't really up to being at a party. Tomorrow was another day and it was probably going to be harder cause Dante was set to make new friends.

*

You and your mother had arrived early at the Days. The sun was out and you were excited. Dante had come a long way. You knew he was a nervous one, which are usually the mostly dangerous ones. But you had a plan.

"Good morning Dante." You smiled when the horse stuck his head out from his stable at the sound of your footsteps approaching. He neighed excitedly, you chuckled and got his bridle. Putting it on after brushing him down. You lead him out of the stables. Another horse was already out, it was the horse you knew as Princess. It was a beautiful all light brown horse. You could see a girl riding the horse from a distance. They were on the other side of paddock.

You felt Dante nudging you forward with his head. You continued your walk to the paddock. Padding Dante's head as you closed the gate to the paddock. Letting Dante a few minutes to roam as you got everything ready for todays training. You had gathered the treats, along with the saddle. You had a few other workers help you divide the paddock. In the stables Dante was far from the other horses, he had shown signs of aggression towards other horses. Mr.Day had to put him in an other stable to make sure Dante didn't hurt himself.

The more you worked with Dante, the more realized that it wasn't aggression. It was fear. Dante had been by himself since he had been born. He just didn't know how to interact with other horses. You were to fix that.

"So you're the new trainer daddy has been talking about." The sound of a sweet but sudden voice had startled you. Turing to the sound of the voice to be faced with a beautiful dark haired woman. A beautiful smile directed your way, the dimples on display had you weak to the knees.

"Uh yes Ms.Day." You knew Mr.Day had a daughter. You just didn't think she would be so beautiful.

"Oh please, call me Lorraine."

Her southern accent was just so attractive, so soothing. You could hear her talk all day. You smiled towards her.

"Nice to you meet you ma'am." You tipped your hat towards her, smiling bit more when she returned the smile. Seeing the dimples on full display was a sight you'd want to see more.

"He looks more approachable now. You have done such great job. Daddy couldn't even get his bridle on."

You smiled feeling a bit proud of Dante's achievements so far. "He just needed some lovin and a bit of patience."

"Mmh well you done a fine job, I didn't catch your name."

"Thank you and it's Y/n."

*

Lorraine watched from the window as the horse trainer rode Dante. It had been a week since she met you and she couldn't stop thinking about you. The way you spoke to not just Dante but also the other animals. Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your laugh. You. She had spent most her time with you. Getting to know you, how you were a straight A student, how you wanted to become a veterinarian.

She knew that what she was feeling for you was wrong, it was wrong. Cause after all she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend she was planning to breakup with, but a boyfriend nevertheless.

"What are you staring at?"

The sudden presence of her mother had startled her. "Mom! What are you doin'? I was just-Enjoyin' the view?"

"Mama!" The blush on her cheeks had her own mother laughing at her.

"Can't blame you honey. Y/n is very handsome. Gotta say if I weren't married-Mother!"

"Aw I'm only joking. It's a shame you aren't single. You both would make such a cute couple."

Lorraine looked away from her mother to look back at you. You were handsome. You were breathtaking. She watched as you smiled at Dante. There was something about you, something that captivated her. She wanted nothing more than to spend time with you. To know you even more. And if she was own thing, it was persistent.

*

"Who's this church mouse. Hiding her all for yourself?"

You jumped up from your leaning down position when a hand touched your backside. Turning around to see an average height brunette. She leaned into your space as you stepped back you looked behind her to see Lorraine standing there with a scowl in her face.

"Leave her alone Max." Lorraine stepped away from her boyfriend to stand in the small space between you and Max. The way Maxine touched you had her feeling a sense of protectiveness. Especially with how uncomfortable you looked.

"Is that what you want sugar."

"Uh yea." You took a step away from Lorraine when she brushed her back side with your front. You had heard her let out a small gasp as she did. She had been so close to your front, you hoped she didn't feel anything. Afraid of what she might think.

"Okay than sugar. I'll be here when you change your mind."

You watched as she walked away, moving your gaze to a boy with glasses who had been glaring at you throughout the whole interaction.

"I'm RJ. Lorraine's boyfriend. Who are you?"

"Y/n." You couldn't help but to feel the disappointment. Of course someone like Lorraine wouldn't be single. You felt your shoulder slump just a bit. You didn't like the way this guy was trying to size you up. The way he was looking at you was giving you the creeps.

"Say sweetheart ever think of going into the movie business?"

"I'm not really an actress." You said as took off your gloves putting them in your back pocket. Facing the older man that had a cowboy hat.

"Oh we don't really do acting if you're catching my drift."

You furrowed your eyebrows confused. Not acting in a movie? What could he possibly-Oh. You felt your eyes widen.

"There we go. Now, if you're interested in making some extra cash. Give me a call." He winked after putting a small card in your chest pocket. Padding your shoulder as he walked away. You fingers took out the card. Your mom has been needing more money.

Lorraine had seen the whole thing as RJ spoke to her. But she hadn't heard a single word that had come out of his name. The bitterness, the jealousy, the protectiveness. She was feeling too much. Just the thought of one the girls touching in such way had her feeling in such way, a way she had never felt.

*

You never pictured yourself as someone to do...those type of movies. Not to mention the extra appendage you had hanging between your legs. It was something you never really talked about. If you did it, you wondered how much money you'd make.

"Are you considering it?"

The sweet southern voice had startled you. Turning your head to see your favorite brunette. You weren't really good at reading people but you weren't blind. You could see the frown that was on her beautiful face. Even though she was trying to hide it.

"I don't know. Maybe? My mama can use the extra cash." You shrugged looking back at the sunset. You had finished your work a while ago and were now just enjoying the sunset.

"If you're looking for extra cash, I can talk to my daddy-No, you don't have to do that." You refused to accept that. You didn't want them to think that you were using Lorraine for extra cash.

"Would you be comfortable with, doing that?"

You turned your head to look at Lorraine. The sun making her freckles stand out more. "Maybe? I don't know. Have you joined them?" You couldn't help but to ask.

"Me? No. RJ doesn't let me."

You furrowed your eyebrows at her. RJ did seem like a controlling type. "Oh, you should do what ever you set your mind to 'Raine." Cheeks hearing up at the slip of the nickname.

Lorraine also felt her cheeks heating up, no one calls her 'Ranie. She liked the nickname. More than what RJ calls her. He had settled on calling her Lori, which she hated. But Raine sounded so much better. Especially since it was coming from your lips.

*

"Come on Dante be nice. Make friends, who knows maybe you'll find yourself a girlfriend." It was another day and you had another horse on the other side of the fence. Princess. She was Lorraine's horse. You watched as Dante got closer to the female horse. Sniffing her, Princess was nice and calm letting Dante do as he pleased. He let out an excited neigh. You smiled when he didn't show the aggression he once had.

You sat on the fence as you watched Dante and Princess run back and forth.

"Well looks like they are getting along just fine."  Ever since that day you had grown much closer to Lorraine. A lot closer than before. You both told each other everything. Well mostly everything. She now knows about your extra appendage. You had honestly been mortified when she asked. She had been sitting right in front of you while you both rode Dante. It had been truly mortifying. You couldn't keep your little friend down.

Lorraine on the other hand had never felt so hot and bothered. She didn't care about your...extra appendage. If anything she wanted to-, her whole body heated up at just the mere thought.

Part of you had felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Seeing that Lorraine didn't seem bothered by your difference.

Lorraine had never touched her self in such way that night. The only thoughts in her mind as she pleasured herself was you.

You smiled at the sound of your favorite voice. Seeing her dimpled smile as you looked down at her. She looked awful red, the heat of today must be really bothering today. She barely reached the top of the paddock fence. You chuckled as you got off the fence to stand beside her.

"Well hello to you to 'Raine." You tipped your hat, loving the blush on her cheeks. You loved how easy it was to fluster her.

Lorraine had loved the nickname you gave her. It was a name you only used. The warmness that spread in her heart had her almost swooning. "Hi Y/nn." She couldn't help the smile that made its way on to her face. The way you were looking down at her with your arms crossed. Your arm muscles bulging through your tight shirt. She was sure the blush on her cheeks had gotten bigger. She just hoped you couldn't tell.

"So how have you been. I heard you were going on trip with your boyfrie-we leave in two days and I'm not dating him anymore." She gladly accepted the side hug that you offered. Your warm body pressed on to hers. She leaned into your embrace. Feeling herself relax as you ran your fingers through her hair.

"I'm sorry to hear that 'Raine." You weren't. You had met RJ and even though he seemed nice at first. Once you got to know him more, he was a complete asshole. He talked down to Lorraine, spoke to her like her opinion didn't matter. You had wanted to punch his teeth in when he kept degrading her as a person. But a look from her had you biting your tongue.

"No you ain't. You hated RJ just as much as daddy did." She giggled, remembering how you would glare at RJ any time he would cut her off when she was talking.

You let out a small laugh, before letting Lorraine go so you could continue doing your job. Taking some hay from the truck to feed Dante and Princess.

"They want you to come, Wayne said he's been waiting for you to call, you know."

"I got to thinking about that and I don't know maybe I'll give it a try." Your eyes never leaving hers. A confidence you never felt before, flowing off you in waves it felt like.

Lorraine bit her lip to hide her smirk. "Maybe you should."

*

The confidence you felt before had all and vanished. Wayne had been excited when he heard you were tagging along. The vision he was seeing had apparently been upgraded. You were now gonna have a roll of the ranchers helper. One that would have a sex scene with one of the daughters. Which happened to be Lorraine.

Lorraine had asked to be in the movie. RJ had tried to fight it but no one listened to him. The look shared between you and Lorraine had been filled with so much. But yet no words came out. The cabin that Wayne had rented looked like something out of a horror movie. The elderly couple also gave you a creepy vibe.

"Okay, ladies. Are you ready? And don't worry about those old folk." Wayne said in excitement. They had already filmed some scenes, now you were being led into a room. Anxiety slowly making its way through your mind. You saw RJ holding the camera first. He refused look at you. You were nothing but a towel and your sports bra. Seeing as you would be naked, you had to tell Wayne and the others about your little friend. Surprisingly they had taken it well. Maxine making a joke about wanting to see it. A joke Lorraine didn't find funny.

Upon entering the room, you were left frozen on your feet. There near the bed was Lorraine getting her hair done by Maxine and Bobby. As much as you tried not to, you felt yourself harden. She was in just her panties and yellow bra. A sight you were now for sure to fantasize about.

"Wait! Before we begin none of you are virgins right?"

You and Lorraine both shook your heads.

With excitement Wayne led you to the bed and had you lay down on your back. Sitting up on your elbows as Lorraine crawled onto your lap. Your throat dried up at how sexy she looked. The way her steady hands gripped the towel. It had your heart racing.

In that moment it was just you and Lorraine. No one else.

*

Lorraine had never been left so satisfied but yet hungry for more. The way you had left her shaking, seeing stars, the stretch, the places you hit that she didn't even know of. The way you handled her, the way you had looked down her as you railed into her. She never she had never felt so sore, her lower region ached. But it was a type of ache that only one person could fix.

You.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" You had wanted to check on Lorraine the moment Bobby and Maxine helped her after the filming. You never knew you could feel so horny. Even after everything. You wanted more of Lorraine.

Lorraine felt her cheeks heat up, it was way past dark now but she couldn't sleep. "Yea I'm okay." She felt your warmth the second you sat next to her on the bed.

"I-" You both said at the same time, then laughed lightly. You didn't want things to be awkward.

"I like you. As more than a friend." Lorraine blurted out. She refused to look your way. Cursing herself for not keeping her mouth shut. Now she had foolishly thought that you felt the same just because of what happened earlier that day. Now she wanted nothing more than to di-your lips were on hers completely cutting her off. She felt herself lean into your body more, her own hands clutching your shirt to bring you closer to her.

"I like you to 'Raine." You whispered to her. Your lips only centimeters away from hers. You had never felt so happy like you did in that moment. Just before you could continue the door swung open.

"Sorry to interrupt you ladies but RJ is missing."

*

Splitting up from Lorraine had been an awful idea. You shouldn't have listen to Wayne. Cause this elderly people were fucking crazy. You never knew an old man could be so strong. You fought with that old bat as he had tried to beat you with what looked like a bat. He had gotten a few good hits in, including a knife wound to your thigh. He would have won if you hadn't gotten a thick tree branch and swung it. The branch had connected to the old man's temple rendering him unconscious.

You stumbled away. Trying to stop the bleeding on your thigh. You needed to find Lorraine. Praying to the lord above that she was okay.

Crossing the lake to only trip. Falling hard on to the dirt floor. You groaned in pain the wounds you had burning in pain from the sudden movement. You looked back to what you tripped over, your eyes widening in fear and grief. There was Jackson eyes wide open, no life in the eyes that once held so much.

Getting up was harder but yet you still did. The need to find Lorraine was stronger.

Getting to the cabin was closer now. You limped up the steps. Using the wall to study yourself, trying to be as quiet as possible. You needed to find your phone. Wayne had told you not bring it. Said something about disconnecting with the outside world. But you hadn't listened and snuck it into your bag. Calling the police, and hoping that Lorraine was in the cabin.

The phone call was quick. The dispatcher promising to send the police. But you knew it would be awhile before they arrived. The farm was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town being almost an hour away.

Getting into the farm house was your next option to find Lorraine. Upon entering the house, the loud noise of the tv was the first thing you heard. But the more you tried to focus, the clearer you heard someone crying.

With no other option you followed the noise into the kitchen. Seeing a door with some blood on it along with a hole. The crying being much clearer now. "Lorraine?"

"Y/n? Oh thank god you're okay. Please get me outta here. These people are fucking crazy." Lorraine sobbed, she felt relief that you were still alive. But the fear she felt was still there and growing at the sight of your beat up face and body. The pain of her broken fingers making her whole arm hurt.

You moved quickly to unlock the door. Her body falling into yours. You held her making sure not to hurt her.

"We have to hide. The cops are on their way. Here let me see." You took off your shirt carefully wrapping Lorraine's injured hand. Apologizing when she cried in pain. "Come on."

You both froze in fear at the sound of what sounded like Maxine screaming followed by a loud gun shot. You were faster to react, taking a hold of Lorraine's uninjured hand and leading her up the stairs. The more you tried to find somewhere to hide. The more fear you felt like those crazy people would get to you and Lorraine. That's when you saw the door to the attic. You moved quickly to get the rope and pull it down. The ladder falling, making sure to catch it before it made a loud noise.

"Come on. Go." You made sure that Lorraine made up the ladder safely before following her. Getting the ladder back up and closing the door. Lorraine was right behind you her face buried into your shoulder as she tried her best not to make a sound. Her shoulders still shaking form trying to control her sobs.

You heard the old man murmuring to himself. "Damn gun. Damn kids. I'll show them. I'll show them."

At the sound of something hard hitting the floor. You looked down through the small cracks on the floor boards. Seeing that he had dropped the gun. Taking in that he no longer had any bullets.

"I'll find them. I'll find them."

Dread feeling your body when he looked up, it looked like he was looking right at you. "Found you." Gripping the rope to hold the door in place.

"Fuck, Lorraine find another way out." Your grip tightening when you heard the old man trying to pull on the rope that was on the other side. Hearing him hitting the other side with a hard object. You were not going to let this crazy bastard get any where near Lorraine.

"There's a window." Lorraine did not want to die on this farm. And she sure as hell did not want you to either. Ignoring the pain she used both hands to open the window. But it had been nailed shut. So she used the lamp to break the window. Moving faster when she was hearing you struggle to hold the rope.

"Go Lorraine. I'll be right behind you."

"No but I-Go!"

Once she was out you let go of the rope, running the best you could with your injured leg to the window. Lorraine helping you out the window with her good hand.

"We're going to have to jump. Look the bed of the truck has hay. Co-" Your sentence being cut off when a sharp pain came from your back. The blade going in and out, your limbs losing their strength far too quickly. Before being pushed off the roof. Faintly hearing Lorraine's scream. Then gun shots ringing out before your world faded into darkness.

*

Bright lights were the first thing you saw. Sound being muffled, the pain from before being numbed. You looked around to see your mom sitting by your side. At the sight of her you finally let yourself cry. Hearing you cry, your mom looked up. Her own eyes filling with tears.

"Oh my baby." She knew, she knew she shouldn't have let you gone when you had asked to go on that stupid trip. But she had seen how excited you were, you had finally found a good friend in Lorraine. And since Lorraine was going as well, she thought that everything would be okay. It was just a normal trip between friends. But good god had she been wrong. 

"Where's Lorraine? Is she okay? Please tell me-She's okay sweetheart. Three broken fingers. But she's okay. She's been begging to see you." Your mother couldn't stop crying. She remembers the call. How the officers called her telling her how you had been stabbed and beat. How the people that owned that farm had tried to kill you and Lorraine. How that crazy old couple had succeeded in killing Lorraine's friends. Although they couldn't find the body of Bobby's.

"Take me to her please. I have to make sure she's okay."

Your mother nodded. Knowing very well that there was going to be no stopping you. "I'll tell Mr.Day that he could bring Lorraine in."

It wasn't long till the door to room was pushed open and Lorraine came in followed by her dad and mom.

Lorraine cried tears of joy and relief. Seeing you fall off that roof had been the worst feeling. Not knowing if you were dead. She remembers screaming. Before the sirens were heard. Along with shouting from the police and the old man. He had shouted and threatened to kill her. But the second he moved towards her he had been shot and killed. The crazy old lady as well.

Lorraine felt herself shake at the sight of your beat body under bright lights. Seeing you motioning for her to get closer. She wasn't one to deny you. Quickly getting to you and hugging you. Body melting in your embrace, careful not hurt your wounds. "Thank god your alright. I was so scared."

You moved your arms around her waist bringing her in closer to you. You looked towards Lorraine's parents. Who gave you a nod with a small smile before stepping out of the room followed by your mother.

Lorraine got comfortable on your bed. Loving the way your arms wrapped themselves around her. She thankful that you were alright. Her body being able to relax in your warmth. The steady heart beat lulling her into a deep.

:)

#lorraine day #Lorraine day x Fem!reader #x movie #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader

[writerpetals]

artificial heart | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w: android!au

“He’s… a lot taller than I imagined.”

Your heart drums so hard in your chest the thumping reaches your ears as you stare at the machine before you. He's nothing like you imagined after being told you would be receiving an artificially intelligent assistant to handle your schedules, setting up meetings, endorsements, and interviews. You imagined something more… robotic, but the man that stands before you looks like nothing more than human, and you would believe him to be just that if it weren’t for the amount of money you spent on him.

“Yes, well, don’t be intimidated by his size,” Mr. Park, the owner of the company you purchased your new android assistant from, begins to tell you as he circles the robot, hands behind his back and a proud smile on his aged face. “He was made specifically for you to do whatever you wish as well as protect you and keep your best interest in mind. You’re an actress, yes?”

You can only blink as you stare at the android, taking in his soft expression, his eyes, hair pushed back and styled neatly to make a good first impression. Gulping, your eyes scan his jawline, down to his shoulders covered in the soft, silk dress shirt, tie, and suit jacket he adorns. He looks perfect. Too good to be true, if you’re being honest.

“Uh, yes. Yes sir, I am.”

Part of you wants to believe it’s not real, but the dent in your bank account and the fact that the perfect assistant (as promised by Mr. Park) is standing before you forces you to understand it’s real, and he was made just for you.

“This android here is capable of handling important meetings, setting up interviews, and booking endorsements. He knows thousands of recipes and can plan a proper diet if that’s what you wish, as well as different exercise routines programmed into his memory if you need them.” Mr. Park stops circling the android to stand at his side, patting him on the shoulder. The android flashes a soft smile that would be comforting to anyone that wasn’t aware of what he was. To you, it puts you on edge, wondering where is the flaw. How can he appear so perfect? “He can act like a bodyguard, designed to read situations and do what is in your best interest. He is also… a companion of different sorts.”

“What do you mean?” You step closer, furrowing your brow as you look between the two. “I thought he was only an assistant.”

“Well, yes. His first purpose is the protection of his companion, which is you.” Mr. Park offers a smile before your gaze shifts to your new android assistant, and he stares at you with his eyes shifting to white. Only for a moment do they flash bright, as if he’s trying to read the current situation to understand how you feel about him. “Second are the tasks you told us you wished him to complete when we were making the offer. Third is… a more personal relationship. Intimate, if you so wish.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you immediately object with a shake of your head, watching his eyes simmer back to the regular hue you were getting used to. “I just need a new assistant. Nothing more than that.”

“Very well.” Mr. Park claps his hands together and smiles wide. “I hope he is a good fit, but if you have problems or concerns don’t be afraid to get in contact with me. We took extra care in making him just for you, so we want to make sure it works out well for everyone.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Park.” You take his extended hand for a shake, smiling politely before turning back to him. He never took his eyes off of you, the same soft smile on his lips as he stands before you. You can’t calm your racing heart or the way your stomach does backflips.  “I hope it works as well.”

***

“You have a lovely home, Miss.”

He looks around the room to study his surroundings as he enters your condo, two bags of luggage in hand and a smile on his lips that begins to put you at ease. On the ride home, he offered to drive, surprising you that he could drive, but you declined, telling him you already had a car waiting on the two of you. It gave you time to get to know him a little better, though you weren’t sure if there was anything to know considering he is a brand new android.

Still, you tried your best to ease the tension between the two of you, even if you were the only one feeling uneasy and awkward. You asked him a few questions you don’t remember the answer to due to only being able to concentrate on the deepness of his voice. It surprised you the first time he spoke your name, figuring it was probably already registered in his program before you even met.

It has you curious of what else he knows about you, but you assume you will figure it all out in due time. For now, you need to adjust to having an android as an assistant while allowing him to adjust to living somewhere new and handling all the tasks you have for him.

“Thanks. It’s a little too big for just me,” you tell him as you guide him to the hall on the right to show him where he will be sleeping, “but maybe with you here now it won’t feel so lonely.”

“Well, my purpose is to do as you wish, whether it be handling your schedules or keeping you company.” When you enter the spare bedroom, he sets his bags down as a grin crosses his lips, causing your heart to skip a beat. “Whatever you need, I will do it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you tell him, hoping he can’t sense the way your voice wavers a bit from just his presence alone. Mr. Park assured you there’s no need to be intimidated, but with your heels off now, he looks much bigger than he did back at the company you purchased him from. He towers over you, causing you to wonder if you could have chosen a smaller height for your new assistant as well. “I’ll let you unpack your things and get settled in. If there’s anything you need, just let me know, okay?”

“Miss?” he calls for you as you begin to step out of the bedroom. “My task?”

“Huh?” You blink.

“What task would you like me to handle first?” He takes a step closer, folding his hands behind his back and you can’t miss the broadness of his chest as he does so.

“Well, I guess I haven’t thought that far ahead,” you tell him honestly as he chuckles just as a human would. Interesting, you think, wondering if his reactions are based on the fact that he wants to make you comfortable, or if he truly has a mind of his own and thinks of your remark as humorous. “For now, just settle in. Then we can go over my schedule and I can give you all the important information.”

“No need, Miss.” He waves his hand to dismiss any worries. “Your schedules for the next month have already been programmed in my memory, as well as contact information, important business numbers, and a meeting with your agent next Saturday.”

“Oh!” You perk up, smiling at the news though you are surprised he already has everything figured out. “Then I guess you can just make yourself at home.”

“Of course,” he says with a nod of his and his lips pressed in a thin line. Then his expression falls, as if he’s just remembered something. “Dinner is soon. Would you like me to prepare you a meal?”

You realize he’s going to do anything but take it easy for his first night. Of course, that is what he is programmed to do and you decide there’s no use fighting it.

“Sure,” you tell him with a sigh, “I would like that. Thank you.”

He smiles and nods his head. “My pleasure.”

***

“Dinner is ready, Miss.”

He finds you in your apartment’s office an hour and a half later, his voice pulling you from the script you have been reading over to prepare for your next role in a few months. With a smile, you nod before following him toward the dining room that rests between the living room and spacious kitchen. 

“I prepared a meal with the ingredients you already had,” he informs you, sliding out a lush dining chair for you to settle in. Laid out on the glass table is a plate of what appears to be chicken parmesan with a glass of red wine. The smell of the sauce hits your nose in an instant, steam rising from the plate and your stomach growls at the sight. You weren’t even aware you were so hungry, though most of your days lately have been spent diving into your work and not caring too much about meals, or anything else. You aren’t in a position to allow your mind to wander. Suddenly you’re thankful he is there to take care of things for you.

You imagine your last assistant went shopping just before being released if there were enough ingredients to make such a meal. Though it hasn’t been long since your old assistant has been gone, it feels as if it was forever ago since she was the one buying your food and tending to your schedules. She didn’t cook, however, so it’s a surprise he can offer such a service to you. 

“Is everything okay?” He pulls your attention from your thoughts of how things used to be. You glance up to see him eagerly awaiting your approval, so you smile at him with a nod of your head.

“Looks great. Thank you.”

“Of course, Miss.” He offers a gentle smile, just as any human would, and it catches you off guard for a moment. Of course, he was designed and programmed perfectly. He was made with you in mind and so everything he does is what is best for you. You didn’t expect to nearly forget he wasn’t human in moments like this, when he chuckles or smiles or reacts in such a way. “Is there anything else you need?”

Then his programmed responses remind you quickly. You think for a moment, then decide to offer him a seat next to you.

“Would you like to join me?” He blinks for a moment, surprised at the question. You chuckle as you grab your fork from its resting place on a folded cloth. “I know you can’t eat, obviously. But… would you keep me company?”

His expression softens before his smile returns. “Of course.” 

He slides into the seat opposite of you, his back straight and his hands folded in his lap. Now he looks more robotic than human, and you realize it’s going to take some getting used to. Though you remember Mr. Park telling you he will adjust even further the longer he is around real people. Maybe he needs time to pick up on little quirks and gestures of humans just to seem more real.

“I hope I am not out of line by asking,” he begins just as you take the first bite and nearly melt from the tastes bursting into your mouth, “what happened with your old assistant?” 

In an instant, you stop chewing, not expecting to be confronted with such a question so soon. You knew the reason for your old assistant leaving would arise eventually, however. Even if you just met him today, you want to be open and honest with him due to you expecting as much in return.

“I hope I didn’t offend you, Miss,” he begins again when you don’t offer a reply, lost in a whirlwind of your own thoughts once again. “It’s just with the short timeframe I was made, it would seem there was an urgency for my assistance.”

“You’re aware of that?” A crease in your brow forms as you ask. You wouldn’t have guessed him to pick up on his creation process, but he is right in the fact that it was a quick one. You even paid extra to receive him quicker than most. 

“I am aware of how I was made and the reason, yes.” He nods his head gently with a slight grin. 

“Oh, well…” For a moment you bite your lip, trying to get your thoughts in order. “I just needed a new assistant that would be focused and loyal. The old one didn’t work out.” You manage to get the jist of the reason out without too many details, and he nods in understanding. 

“I hope things work out for you this time,” he says as you take another bite of your food, relishing in the taste and deciding if you get meals like this every night, you hope so as well. “My focus is one hundred percent on you.”

You don’t want to acknowledge the way your heart flutters at his words, but you can’t deny it, either. You gulp down the bite in your mouth and force an awkward smile before taking a sip of your wine.

***

“Do you sleep?”

After dinner, he left you to your script while you left him to clean up. The two of you made small talk while you ate the rest of your meal, telling him about what you do as an actress and he listened with honest interest. You weren’t sure of too many questions to ask him since, well, he wasn’t made too long ago, but you left him with the hope of getting to at least feel as if you know him better. 

A little time passed and you grew too tired trying to memorize your lines. You began to get ready for sleep, doing your usual routine of taking off your make-up, cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and it wasn’t until you went to get undressed that you remembered to check on him. You found him tidying up things here and there, taking care of what he could manage until you pointed out something for him to do. He followed you to your bedroom, lingering by the door while you grabbed your night clothes out of a white, wooden chest on the other side of the room.

He smiles at the question you asked, as if it was almost silly of you to ask it. “I rest,” he tells you politely. He always responds in a calm manner, his voice soothing to your ears and though you don’t know him well at all, it makes you feel relaxed around him. “Until you have another task for me.”

You bite your lip while tossing the clothes you wish to change into over the silk sheets of your bed. “I have a few errands to run in the morning. Need to actually buy food instead of ordering take out every night.” Especially if he is cooking, you think to yourself. He smiles at your remark, as if he knows what you’re thinking. “I have to train for my next role as well. It’s an outdoorsy adventure type hiking through trails, so lots of cardio is needed.”

You chuckle as he nods and smiles. “What time would you like me to wake you?”

You hum, wondering why the thought of a personal android alarm clock excites you in the moment. “Seven?”

“I’ll see you as seven, Miss.”

He offers one last smile, reaching for the door handle, and shuts it behind him. You’re left wondering how you will manage to actually fall asleep with someone new in your home, but you were promised by Mr. Park he is harmless. You don’t doubt it with how you feel so comfortable around him, if only a bit curious and intrigued. Still, having such a drastic change so suddenly does make it more difficult to drift off to sleep. Eventually you manage with the thought of being woken up early by him in the morning.

***

He knocks softly on your bedroom door right on schedule. You blink a few times to adjust to the light spilling through the windows before stirring beneath the covers.

Five more minutes, you want to tell him, having had a harder time falling asleep the night before than you would have liked. With your mind spinning from thoughts of your new assistant, to your old one, to trying to adjust to life as it is now, you can’t really be blamed.

You also can’t stay in bed, you realize, as he knocks again and informs you it’s seven a.m. You assume you take too long to get out of bed or even answer him when you hear the twist of a handle before the door slowly opens. 

“Miss? Are you awake?” You hear his voice without seeing him, assuming he’s respecting your privacy while keeping your task of being your personal android alarm clock in mind. 

“Mm… unfortunately…” You never were a morning person, but you can blame long schedules, weird filming hours, and jet lag for that. Still, you try not to make the impression of a grumpy, diva actress as you clear your throat and slip out of bed. “Sorry. Yes, I’m awake.” You rub your eyes and blink a few times while finally adjusting to the morning sun. 

“Is it alright if I step in?” he asks, and you’re thankful of it. You wore warm, silky pajamas to sleep the night before, looking down at the pink and white pattern on your top and pants, and then shrugging to yourself.

“Sure,” is all you say, then you yawn and stretch your hands over your head. He steps in a second later, back straight, looking poised and proper. You take in his styled hair just the same as the day before, though he’s only wearing a white dress shirt and slacks today. You almost want to laugh to yourself at the image of “waking” from his rest and getting dressed in the morning, finding the thought of him as any other human quite humorous. You’re simply too sleepy to give it another second on your mind, however. 

“I have scheduled you a car to drive you to your preferred gym. It should be here in approximately thirty minutes. Would you like me to lay out appropriate attire for you?” 

As he talks, you make your way to the bathroom connected to your large master bedroom. Grabbing your toothbrush from the marble countertop, you turn the water on and begin freshening up while giving him a nod of approval. He hangs by the bathroom door, averting his eyes while turning his shoulder to you, but you can hear the polite smile in his voice.

“Great. Would you like me to begin preparing breakfast for you?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, mouth full of toothpaste and normally you wouldn’t let anyone see you in such a state, but you’re far too sleepy and your mind is exhausted from running wild the night before. 

“Okay. I’ll lay your clothes out on your bed for you,” is all he says before turning away to begin his tasks. 

By the time you’ve washed your face and pinned your hair up for your work-out, you can already smell the aroma of bacon seeping from the kitchen and filling the bedroom. Your stomach growls as you look over the gym pants and tank top he laid out for you. A smile springs to your face before you begin getting dressed, realizing that he would do any and everything you asked of him. Part of you feels less like an actress with an assistant and more like a spoiled child, but the sensible part tells you he’s just being thorough and doing his job. After all, he was made just for you to meet any need you could ever have. 

***

After a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast with a glass of orange juice, he leaves you to head to your work out with a long session of cardio while he stays in your apartment to clean up. You know you should feel at least a little uneasy with a stranger in your home while you aren’t there, human or not, but it comes easier than you imagined to be off on your own while he stays behind. He was made just for you, you keep telling yourself. Mr. Park has never had an unruly android sold to a client, or one that went off the rails as far as you knew. There’s no reason not to trust him. 

When your workout is finished, the car he called for you takes you back home, and you arrive just in time to spot him shuffling about and busy in the kitchen. For a moment you watch him, placing new ingredients in the cabinets and putting things away in the fridge and the bottom freezer drawer. When you let him know you’re home by asking where he got the groceries from (already assuming he had them delivered), he surprises you by telling you he went out and got them himself. 

He continues to surprise you in the following weeks. He cooks for you for every meal, and you admit you’ve gotten too spoiled too fast with the delicious food he prepares. He even had some of your favorite recipes programmed in him before he went home with you, preparing them with ease each night for dinner. He spends his days cleaning up and tidying when you are busy tucked away memorizing your script. You sometimes smell a few of your favorite aromas that remind you of home with your family when you were younger, realizing he lit a candle just to relax you while you worked. After work outs, he even offers to run you a bath, but you quickly decide that you can definitely manage on your own. Even if he does your laundry and readies your clothes in the morning, which is something no assistant has ever done for you before, you tell yourself there are still a few things you will always handle yourself, never wanting to feel helpless instead of just taken care of. 

Not to mention what comes as even more of a surprise is the way he grows on you, and your human characteristics begin to rub off on him. He picks up little quirks and gestures from being around you as well as all the people he comes into contact with while running errands for you. His expressions become more personal, realistic and it’s as if he loosens up a bit in the short time you’ve known him. He still remains proper with his calm tone and he is always professional with you, but he chuckles more and asks questions about your work, your past, and even sometimes the two of you have conversations about what you wish your future would be like. 

You grow to enjoy his company more than his help. Even in such a short time, you start to think of him as a friend. You tell him when you’re feeling stressed and the burden of work is too much to bear. He responds with a hot cup of tea and an ear for you to vent. It comes easier than you expected to talk to him. And he listens. Truly listens, hanging on to every word you say and you aren’t sure if it’s because he cares for you (if he can care for someone since he isn’t even human) or if he only wants to pick up on more things. Still, you decide it’s nice to have someone to confide in when you need it. 

His gentleness comes in handy the day you spot a vicious headline about yourself in a tabloid magazine. He and you were supposed to be out for the day as a way to take your mind off of work for a while after meetings with your agent and another script being sent in for a guest appearance on a TV show. He suggested it might help to get some fresh air, coming up with the idea to walk down to the coffee shop on the corner to clear your mind. He offered to order you a coffee and a strawberry pasty once you arrived, but you insisted you could manage yourself with a chuckle. 

Sometimes, you quickly realized, you just enjoyed his company. So you ordered your drink and food, sat in the corner of the shop after he took your coat from your shoulders, and talked for a while. You admitted it did help ease your mind and on the walk back to your apartment, you were feeling lighter, more at peace.

That was until you spotted the headline on a street newsstand. 

UP AND COMING ACTRESS STILL HEARTBROKEN OVER EX-FIANCE RUNNING AWAY WITH HER BEST FRIEND 

The words caught you off guard, only because for once after the entire painful ordeal, your mind was the furthest from your pain. Not to mention the picture they chose to include on the front page of the magazine. It was the furthest thing from flattering, a scumbag paparazzi having taken the shot a few weeks prior when you were out at a restaurant with a friend, spilling your heart out to leave cheeks stained with tears, and the entire thing seemed to break your heart all over again. 

“Is everything okay, Miss?” He asks when you finally arrive back home. In silence, he took your coat from you as you slipped your boots off at the door. The walk to your place wasn’t much better after seeing the headline. You fought back the tears. You pushed away the anger, but it was mostly due to you being mad at yourself for getting upset in the first place.

Things were getting better, you told yourself as you walked in silence next to him. I was getting better. 

“Uh, yeah, I-I’m fine,” is all you tell him, quickly rushing to your office to shut the door behind you. You don’t even move from the spot, knees feeling too weak while your head falls back against the wood panel. Your eyes close, but tears still manage to reach your cheeks. You don’t know if you’re hurting, or just angry, or maybe a mix of both. It only takes something so small to bring all the feelings rushing back. It just takes one stupid little headline to bring that night back to life, where you found out the man you were supposed to marry in only a month was sleeping with your old assistant, your best friend. 

Disgust rises in your chest because you thought you were over it. Insecurities and doubts suddenly fill your mind  because of course you blame yourself and now it becomes harder to breathe in the moment. The tears continue to fall. You clutch your stomach and slip to the ground, anger bubbling right along with it to have you a mess of confusion and not understanding the sudden overwhelming emotions flooding you. 

There’s a knock on the office door a moment later. Of course he would check up on you. It must have been surprising to him for you to suddenly be so cold, so out of it. 

“Miss? Are you okay?” His voice is gentle as it comes from the other side of the door. For a moment, you still can’t move, but you take a few deep breaths and try to wipe your eyes. You’re sure your mascara is running, so you give a few extra swipes with the sleeve of your sweater before crawling to your knees. 

Another deep breath and you’re on your feet. You pull the door open slowly, coming face to face with your android assistant looking more human than ever. His brow is wrinkled and there’s a deep blue hue in his eyes. For a second you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen his eyes shift to such colors before, blinking once, twice, and again to make sure you’re not imagining it. 

“Are you okay?” He steps closer, somehow his voice even softer, more gentle than before. Part of you wants to collapse in his arms, though it wouldn’t be appropriate. His demeanor would make it so easy, so comforting, the perfect shoulder to cry on.

But you try to toughen up and force a smile.

“Yeah, sorry… just… allergies.” The way he stares at you tells you how terrible you are at lying. For an actress that would normally say far more than you would like but who could blame you after having a panic attack. 

“Please tell me if something is troubling you.” He steps closer, confirming with words he doesn’t believe the horrible allergy lie. He places two large, gentle hands on your shoulders, thumbs massaging through your sweater. “I’m here to help no matter what it is.” 

For a moment you only look up at him. The tears fill your eyes once more, chest aching so much it leaves you nearly breathless. Before a single drop can hit your cheeks burning hot, you crash into his chest, collapsing into his embrace just like you wanted to do. “Oh…” 

He says nothing, only wrapping his arms around your body to hold you close. The warmth of his hold engulfs you as you cling tightly to his dress shirt. Tears fall to your cheeks and even soak into the fabric your head rests against, but he doesn’t let you go. He lets you feel how you need to feel, and he keeps you close. His hand begins to stroke your back, calming your cries and your body down from its overwhelming state. You push into him, allowing him to ease the burden, clinging to him to hold onto reality so your mind doesn’t drift too far away. 

A minute passes like this, wrapped up in his comforting warmth. Finally the tears stop falling, though your head begins to pound from the pressure. Your cheeks still burn hot and when you pull away from him, you quickly wipe them with the sleeve of your sweater once again. 

“I’m… sorry.” You sniffle and look away, never wanting him to see you like this. Never wanting anyone to see you like this, but how can that be when paparazzi takes pictures in your most vulnerable state and sells them to gossip magazines. 

“Please, don’t apologize,” he says, placing a gentle hand beneath your chin so you’ll look him in the eyes. There you spot a different hue, a flash of blue and then pink, finally settling on purple. A second or two passes before you realize they nearly had you in a trance, watching the waves of colors. It somehow comforts you in the moment, staring into his gentle eyes, feeling his warmth, his careful touch on your face. “Are you feeling better now?”

You can breathe, so it’s a start. You refrain from telling him that, however. Instead, a weak smile forms on your lips and you nod your head.

“Would you like to talk about it?” The question isn’t pushy and doesn’t pry. You know he would have no need for such things. It comes as a genuine concern for you, wanting to help and make you feel better just as he was designed to do. 

All you can do is wrinkle your brow and bite your lip as you keep your tears at bay, nodding your head to tell him yes. Gently, he guides you from your office to your living room to have a seat on the sofa. He sits close to you, without a word reaching to take your hand still trembling from your emotions in his own. Then you take a deep breath, trying to get your thoughts under control.

“I… saw a headline while we were walking home.” You pause, wanting to make sure the ache that was settled deep in your chest didn’t return. Of course, the feeling still lingers but as long as you can form the words, as long as you can breathe and speak without breaking down again, you want to keep going. “It was a stupid, dumb headline on a stupid, dumb magazine and I… I just didn’t expect to see it so suddenly. Not when I wasn’t thinking about it. Now when I… when I thought I was getting over it.”

“What was it about?” He never pulls his eyes away from you. Normally it would make you insecure. Even for an actress sometimes the thought of eyes on you constantly can be frightening, especially when you feel so weak, so vulnerable. As always, he puts you at ease. Everything he does is for you. 

“I…” You bite your lip, wanting to tell him, just not knowing where to start. You decide you should start from the beginning. “I had this guy… my… fiance.” The last word releases in a whisper, as if it’s poison on your tongue. It stings in your chest at the thought. The thought of giving your entire life to someone that could crush your heart so easily. 

“Oh?” he asks when you take too long of a pause. 

“We were all set to be married a month ago. We were supposed to be married now.” The images come flooding back, the memories filling your mind one by one. The thoughts of testing cakes and picking out a wedding dress with your mother and best friend arise and nausea sets in. “A few weeks before the wedding I-” You gulp, hard, swallowing the words because you know if you speak them the voice that comes out will sound nothing like your own. 

He gives a little squeeze of your hand, encouraging you to continue. He tells you without words he’s right there for you, whatever you need.

“I found out he was cheating on me.” For some reason, the words are a sudden blow to the chest followed by a weight from your shoulders all at the same time. You haven’t talked to many about your recent heartbreak, though you feel as if the world already knows everything thanks to “close sources” and nosy paparazzi. Though, telling him now feels as if it’s the one thing you needed to begin healing. You aren’t sure if it’s due to finally coming in check with the reality of what happened and how you feel, or if he is somehow so intent on helping you it suddenly makes you feel better about it all. You can’t seem to care either way. You’re thankful to him. 

“He was unfaithful to you as a companion.” You chuckle with tears welling in your eyes at him making sense of it. 

“That and a whole hell of a lot more.” Before you can wipe the drops that fall against your cheek, he reaches for you. His thumb brushes ever so lightly against your skin, ridding you of the tears and soothing you. “The person he decided to cheat on me with was also my old assistant. My… best friend.” 

The words sting just as much as the first time you found out. Not only did you have to face the reality of your fiance no longer wanting to be with you, you had to come to terms with being backstabbed by the one person you thought would always be there for you. If that wasn’t enough, the two of them came to you later, informing you they wanted to be together and you needed to find a new assistant. As if you would somehow approve of their relationship. As if somehow you could ever want your best friend to assist you anyway. 

In the end, you tried to convince yourself it was better this way. Better to find out before the wedding your ex was a total scumbag than after you were already married. It didn’t ease the pain any, and so you threw yourself into your work, studying scripts, signing another movie deal, pretending as if you weren’t completely shattered inside. Maybe it’s part of the reason you’re still taking things so hard, and something like a magazine headline could break your heart all over again.

“I am so sorry these people caused you so much pain.” His calm, yet deep tone brings you back to reality from your own thoughts. You look to him for the first time since you sat down, staring into the comforting eyes that shine a deep blue hue once again. He doesn’t say it, and you don’t question it, but it somehow feels as if he is heartbroken right along with you. There’s pain on his face, surprising you that for an android he has such a wide range of emotions. He feels for you in the moment, taking your heart ache right along with you, and something inside of you tells you he would take all the pain if he could. 

“Well, it was a while ago,” you tell him, shrugging and forcing a small laugh to fall from your lips. Not that long ago, you remind yourself, but you try to put on a strong face for him. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.” A strained smile forms on your lips, trying to ease the situation. His expression doesn’t change, however.

“Please don’t apologize,” is all he says, reaching to wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks. “Don’t ever feel ashamed of your emotions. You never have to hide them from me. I’m always here for you.” 

For a moment, you allow yourself to forget he is an android programmed to say the perfect things. For a moment, you tell yourself it’s all real, your feelings and his own. And for a moment, you allow him to comfort you not as an assistant, but someone that’s grown close to you in such a short time. You allow him to be your friend.

***

A few days after your panic attack and spilling your heart out to him, you begin to feel better. A weight was lifted off your chest when you were open and honest with him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable to the one person you are convinced could never hurt you. Well, the one android who could never hurt you. 

You’re suddenly okay with that thought. He isn’t human, but as the last few months have gone by, you started to lose faith humans were any better. You couldn’t imagine him running off with your next partner. The thought even leaves you giggling to yourself. 

Of course, good things don’t always last. One Sunday afternoon there’s a quick knock at your door, and your stomach feels heavy in an instant. Maybe it’s due to you always expecting things to go wrong when they seem right, but as your heavy feet carry you toward the door, your heart races while preparing for the worst.

The worst comes in the form of your ex-fiance’s sudden appearance at your home. He looks disheveled, longer hair than you remembered him having dangling in his eyes to almost cover the bags beneath them. Rough cheeks prove he hasn’t shaved in a while and his clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans, look like anything but the normally put together dress shirts and slacks he wears. 

“Sweetheart,” he says casually, as if just months ago he didn’t rip your heart into pieces. “It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful.” 

You scoff. Normally you would be civil at the least, but just the sight of him draws back so many memories and feelings to the surface you didn’t want to deal with. 

“What are you doing here, Brody?” From your words with your icy tone, he steps back. Did he really expect a warm welcome? 

“I came to see you, sweetheart. It’s been too long and I…” He pauses, rubbing a hand behind his neck. “Well, I miss you, baby. I know things ended on bad terms, but I-”

“Bad terms?!” You don’t mean to, but your voice raises as you repeat his words. Anger bubbles in your chest to grow in your expression. You take a step forward, hands clenching into fists at your sides. “Bad terms? That’s what you call it?”

“Sweetheart, I-”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupt, raising your chin proudly. You have too much respect for yourself to stand there and allow it. You may still have emotions you haven’t dealt with properly, but you won’t be a doormat. “Don’t call me anything. Just leave. I never, ever want to see you again, Brody.” 

“Baby, listen,” he continues, stepping inside your apartment and closing the door behind him. Your mouth falls open, deciding if you’re either two seconds away from calling security or slapping him in the face. Of course, you’ve never been the violent type and couldn’t actually see yourself hurting someone, but if anyone can bring it out in you, it’s him. 

“Brody, leave,” you repeat, tone more stern so he will get the hint. Even though, you realize, if he hasn’t gotten it by now, you aren’t sure what it will take. 

“Just listen to me, I-” His words fall short, and suddenly his eyes dart to something behind you. In an instant his expression switches from nothing short of pitiful to almost offended. He straightens his back and wrinkles his brow, and it takes one quick glance behind you to spot your android assistant and see why his entire demeanor has shifted. “Who the hell is that?”

“That’s my new assistant.” You aren’t even sure why you answered him. He doesn’t deserve any explanations from you, but you guess maybe you’re a little proud of the fact you have him. 

“Is everything okay, Miss?” He doesn’t hesitate to step behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of him on your back. When you turn to look at him, however, he isn’t looking down at you, but he is staring a hole into Brody. 

“Everything is fine. Brody was just leaving.”

Your ex’s eyes bounce between the two of you. Suddenly he’s at a loss for words. You guess he’s feeling intimidated by the android’s size, or maybe it’s just his cool, calm, and collected attitude that makes him even more mysterious to strangers. But soon that intimidation turns to jealousy and anger, not wanting to feel weak in the moment, wanting to make himself bigger than he really is.

“I see what’s going on,” he begins, chuckling darkly and shaking his head. “You found someone new to fuck so you don’t need be anymore.”

You want to laugh at the ridiculous accusation, but you refrain. “Sure, that’s it,” is all you say with a roll of your eyes. A part of you wonders how you could have married someone like that, but jealousy is the ugliest trait. You decide you don’t care what he thinks. He’s no one to you anymore, and you only want to get rid of him. “Leave, Brody.”

His gaze switches between the two of you for a few seconds later, nostrils flaring, jaw clenched. For a split-second you’re worried he will lash out even more, but all he does is huff, shake his head, and turn around to leave with a slam of your door. 

Finally you let out the breath you were holding. Turning to your assitant, you notice the ice cold expression he was giving Brody suddenly softened. His eyes fell to his usual color, easing the tension in the room as you looked into them. 

“I’m so sorry.” You shake your head while sighing. “God, he’s such an asshole.”

“Are you alright?” He leans closer, placing his hands on your shoulders as if to inspect you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” You take a huge breath to exhale in a puff. You hate how worked up he can get you. Even after not seeing him for so long, all the old memories mixing with the anger to spiral into tense aggravation has you on edge. “I can’t stand what he does to me. How upset he can still make me.” You bite your lip, harder than usual, as your brows furrow and your foot taps eagerly on the wooden floors.

“May I suggest a method of calming you down?” he offers. “I want to help you relax.”

You ponder the thought, then eventually give in with your shoulders slumped. “What do you have in mind?”

“A massage. To ease the tension in your body and stress you’re currently under.” The suggestion has warmth blossoming inside of you. Such acts have never came up in the time he’s been with you. Though, you’ve never had to deal with your ex before, either. You do recall Mr. Park saying he could read situations and come up with solutions to help you. 

Though, the thought of him touching you makes you feel… well, you aren’t really sure. Of course you feel safe with him. You’re convinced he could never hurt you, and would never be inappropriate with you. Everything he has done from the moment you got him has been professional, kind, and courteous. Still, a massage seems so personal. So intimate. 

“Just your shoulders, Miss.” You assume you’ve been lost in thought for too long. “I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I just want to help you.”

“Oh, I know.” You chuckle more to yourself than to him. “I trust you. I really do, I just… you know what? Okay!” What the hell, you tell yourself. How many people get the opportunity to get a skilled massage from an android? Considering all the programming he has with cooking, you’re sure his knowledge in massages can’t be far behind. 

A smile forms on his lips. “Great. Why don’t you get undressed and get ready for me on the bed. I’ll get a few oils and lotions I have.”

Your eyes grow wide. “Undressed?” You assumed it would be a simple massage. Nothing is simple with him, you think. Of course he would want to do it the proper way. As if you were getting a professional massage at a spa, something you have done hundreds of times. It’s no different with him. 

He raises a brow. “Would you like to keep your clothes on?” 

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly nod and smile. 

“Okay, I’ll grab a towel for you so you can cover yourself.”

With a nod, he’s off grabbing a fresh towel from the linen closet and you’re making your way to your room. Before he grabs his oils from his own room, he knocks gently on the door before passing off the towel to you, making sure not to step in too far in case it would make you uncomfortable. Then he steps away to give you privacy, and you begin stripping down to nothing but your panties. There’s no need to take them off, of course, and you wrap the towel around you while waiting for him to return.

“Are you ready, Miss?” you hear his voice through the door, and all you can manage is a hum of ‘mhm’ before he steps inside the bedroom. “You can lay down, if you’re ready.”

He remains calm and professional, but your heart feels as if it will beat right through your chest. Relax, you tell yourself, it’s just a massage… I’ve had hundreds of them. None by any androids, however. None by him.

The thought sends your body reeling. Warmth builds in your chest, feeling the jittery nerves of excitement and anticipation mixed with the heart racing insecurity. You tell yourself to get it together, it’s no big deal. Part of you wants to believe it, but as you lay down on your stomach in nothing but your towel with panties underneath, you know it’s a new experience for the both of you. 

“I’m going to use a calming oil that will relax your muscles. It’s lavender scented. I hope you enjoy it.” He talks as you hear the sound of him rubbing the oil in his large palms, and there’s no doubt inside of you that you will enjoy it. That’s what has you on edge. “I’m going to begin with your shoulders now, is that okay?”

Your heart flutters in the way he asks permission. He is always taking care of you, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Mhm,” you hum, scared if you actually speak your voice will be unsteady as it falls from your lips. A few seconds later, you feel his hands on your body. His palms press so gently against your shoulder blades as his fingers ghost over the sides of your neck you want to melt right into the mattress. He takes his time, easing you into the moment by caressing your skin, and when he hears the softest whimper leave your lips, he deepens his touch.

God, you think, his hands are so warm. So big and warm and touching you. You feel like a silly little girl for even caring, but his touch is so gentle, so careful and soft for a robot that can be so intimidating. He works the tension out of your shoulders, easing you into a relaxed state of bliss as your eyes begin to flutter. He takes his time and your body has his full attention. You feel him caress your shoulder blades, the sides of your neck, even a little farther down until you decide you don’t care at all where his hands go, you just want him to touch you. 

You call for him, voice so airy and light with his name you almost didn’t recognize it.

“Yes?” he replies, not taking his attention away from his task. 

“You’re so… gentle.” You giggle to yourself, suddenly on a natural high from feeling so at ease. It’s clear you haven’t felt so relaxed in months. “I didn’t expect it.”

“You expected something different?”

“Well, no,” you say, chuckling again, then whimpering when he begins working down your back. You hate to acknowledge the way your body reacts to him. You can feel your nipples hardening from his touch, pressing into the silk sheet beneath you to add even more friction. Your body is so hot beneath his hands, so worked up you begin to form an ache between your legs. You’re sure if you were to check, there would be a darkened spot on your panties from your arousal. Your cheeks burn at the thought, embarrassment flooding you all at once before it’s replaced by need from the tender way he touches you, but you can’t help it. His hands feel too good. It’s been too long since you’ve even been this personal with someone. “I guess I never expected you to be so… so careful. I’ve never… never been touched like this.”

“Does it feel good?”

You swear you think you heard a darker hint to his tone as he asked, sending a wave of heat through your body bursting from your core. You gulp, trying not to let the thoughts overwhelm you as he deepens the massage, his large, skilled hands working over every inch of your back.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, then you bite your lip to keep yourself from making any more noises. You shut your eyes tight, but that doesn’t help, either. Instantly images of him pop into your mind, him going further, him touching you in different places. 

You try to shake them from your head, but the longer he touches you, the worse it gets. You can just imagine his hands if you were on your back, massaging your breasts, toying with your hardened nipples by rolling the erect bed against his fingers. His gentle, careful hands would ease down your stomach, slip deep into your panties to feel how wet you’ve grown for him. Would he like it? You aren’t sure, but you can’t imagine him disappointing you if just his back massages feel this good. 

You can only imagine what he could do between your thighs. Stroking your slit, teasing your clit, easing his long fingers inside your dripping heat to make you come against his hand.

Instantly it’s too much. You push the thoughts from your head before beginning to stir on the bed.

“I’m feeling better!” Carefully, you pull the towel up to cover your breasts before you stand. Your face is burning hot, body feeling so weak with need you suddenly feel lightheaded. 

“Is everything okay?” Concern strikes his features. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

No, you want to tell him, my own thoughts made me uncomfortable. God, how could you get carried away like that? It was only a simple massage. How could you start having a full-blown fantasy of your assistant? He’s not even human.

“You’re fine. I am feeling much better now, thank you.” 

He hesitates like he doesn’t believe you. But you’re sure he can sense you’re trying to convince him anyway. He doesn't push any further and you’re grateful.

“I’m glad you feel better, Miss.” He nods and steps back. “How about I get dinner started for you?”

“That would be great, thank you.” You can barely look at him as he walks out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Once you’re alone, guilt instantly weighs heavy in your chest. You hate yourself for allowing your imagination to run wild. How could you think such things of him, especially when he has always been kind and professional? The question runs through your mind again and again, and you have no answer. You only know you don’t want him to get so close and personal again. 

***

For a while after the massage from him, you keep any and all physical contact at bay if only to keep your own emotions in check. Even if you still feel safe and comfortable around him, knowing he would never do anything to bring you harm, you suddenly don’t trust yourself as much.

As the days pass, even if you keep your distance, you can’t help but to notice him more. You catch yourself staring when you think he doesn’t pay attention, realizing just how handsome he is. Of course, you knew that from the beginning, but it’s different somehow. As if when you look at him, you completely melt on the inside. His laugh has become all the more human, all the more real, and it has warmth blossoming in your chest when you hear it. Just being around him puts you in the best mood, and your troubles before with your ex-fiance and old assistant seem like such a distant memory. 

It makes getting back to work easier, knowing he will always be there for you right by your side. You feel secure as long as he’s close by, and you even brought him to a party the director of the last movie you starred in was throwing. You decided to bring him as your unofficial date, even though only the two of you knew about it. To anyone else, he was just your assistant, but to you, you brought him along as a friend and someone to look out for you. 

You dressed up in your favorite black, sparkly cocktail dress, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw him ready to go in his 3 piece suit and his hair combed back and styled perfectly. For a moment, you could only stare, suddenly feeling warm from how good he looked, and you couldn’t help but feel prideful in the fact that he was yours.

Your assistant, you quickly reminded yourself, shaking any other thoughts from your head as the two of you made your way to the party. Once you arrived, the lavish room of his home completely decorated with golden balloons, streamers, a table with expensive treats and his very own bartender to make you wide-eyed, the director pulled you away to gossip with this new actor and that one. You tried to be polite and make acquaintances, shaking hands and getting kissed on the cheek, but really all you wanted to do was know where your android was. It took a few glances around the room to spot him close by, keeping an eye on you as you politely downed another drink someone shoved in your hand and carried on the conversation with a chuckle here and there. You felt as if the room was spinning in no time, though that’s how these parties usually went. You were never one for this side of the business, but of course to get gigs you had to show up with a friendly face and make nice. 

So you chatted some more with people you barely knew, always looking every once and a while to make sure he was close by. At one point, you turned to notice a few drunken d-list actresses clinging to him, and you could only imagine the conversation.

Thought it didn’t bother you. Once you met his eyes, he gave you a reassuring look to let you know his focus was on you, and you went back to listening to a boring actor talk about the last movie he worked on. You really didn’t care, but thankfully you had alcohol to make it seem like you did.

“So, like I was saying,” he begins again after finishing his shot, “I was on set with two tigers, and they warned me not to get too close, but I was like “Hey, I’m me!” and did it anyway, and then…”

His words drowned out. He has to possibly be the most boring, conceited actor you have ever met. He should get an award about having a story with tigers and you somehow still want to fall asleep listening. But you smile and nod, just like you are used to doing. By now, your face burns hot from the alcohol, feeling a little drained and ready to get out of the dress and heels. 

“...so what do you say, sweetheart?” Your attention turns back to the man before you, watching him flick his hair from his eyes and sport a cheesy smile. “Wanna get out of here?” He reaches to place a hand on your shoulder, giving it a little squeeze with a lick of his lips.

Before you can tell him absolutely not, your assistant appears before you, his big body stepping in the way of the actor to block his view of you.

“Let’s go,” he says in a whisper, but you’re curious and the alcohol is causing a bit of confusion with you. Though, his stern tone makes your heart skip a beat, wondering if he knows something you don’t. “Please, come with me now.”

“Hey, we’re talking here…” The actor tries to shove him by his shoulder to get him out of the way, but your android assistant doesn’t even budge an inch. It was like a child trying to move a fridge, which irritated the man further. “Did you hear me?” The actor comes to his side, and you assume this can’t be good. He’s probably had too much alcohol and the last thing you want is to cause a commotion in the director’s home.

“This is my assistant,” you quickly tell him with a giggle. He finally acknowledges the actor, and for a moment you notice the shift in his eyes. The hues switch from a soft hue you’re used to into a fiery red in seconds.

“Oh…” It’s clear the man noticed the androi’s eyes, taking a step back. “Oh, your assistant is one of those.”

It’s not unheard of for androids to take on everyday roles now. They came into the limelight just a few years ago, and it seems every other person has one. The actor’s surprise of him shouldn’t come as a shock, but the tone in which he addresses him fills you with irritation.

“Funny,” he begins, becoming bold knowing the androids don’t have any violent tendencies. Well, as far as this guy knows, but you don’t doubt he would go to great lengths to protect you. “I thought it was supposed to take orders from you, not the other way around.”

The last thing you want is to put him in such a situation, however. You quickly apologize to the boring actor before your assistant guides you out of the party, already having called a car to pick the two of you up. 

You call for him after slipping into the backseat of the black limo and feeling the car pull away to head home. The solid black partition was already raised, giving the two of you privacy. “What was that about? Why did you want to leave in such a hurry?”

“I noticed a shift in his tone and body language.” He says, turning to you with his soft eyes once again. Though his tone hasn’t eased any, and you wonder if the man inside the party somehow got to him. “He had impure motivations with you, Miss. I felt it was my duty to get you somewhere safe.”

Suddenly you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. “Is that all?” For some reason, you can’t stop laughing. He remains confused, brow wrinkling as his eyes flash between the normal hue and white, as if he were trying to understand what was so funny. “Most of the men there have those intentions. Not like they had a chance, anyway.”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe. You were intoxicated and your judgments could have been impaired.”

As he speaks, your laughter settles. “Oh well,” you sigh, getting more comfortable in your seat while drunkenly resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes close, listening to the hum of the engine mixing with the tires on the road, suddenly so sleepy. “I was growing bored. My feet hurt.”

“Would you like a massage?”

If you didn’t drink so much, just the mention of the word massage would have made you a mumbling mess thanks to the last time he performed such an act on you. But you are too drunk to care, and too comfortable to move as you lay against him. 

“No, thank you,” you tell him, snuggling closer and resting your arm around his stomach. “Will you hold me instead? Just until we get home?” Though it’s breaking your rule of no physical contact, you grow awfully needy when you’ve been drinking. Not to mention how warm he always is. It nearly puts you to sleep just laying beside him, and even more so when you feel a strong arm wrap around your body. He holds you close without hesitation as the two of you ride home in silence. 

When you stumble inside your apartment, he helps you take off your heels at the door. Your hands fall to his shoulders to keep from being so wobbly, and he is gentle as he slips each one off with a grip on your calf. Before he stands, he looks up at you, his eyes meeting your eyes to see a soft, pink glow.

“How are you feeling?” The question makes your heart burst with warmth. He is always so attentive, so careful of you and what you need. He always says the perfect things at the right time, always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable. 

“I-I’m okay,” is all you can manage, watching a smile form on his lips. 

“Want me to help you to bed?”

You hesitate for a moment. That would also be breaking the rule of no physical contact, but you’re still feeling the effects of the alcohol and nothing sounds better than being taken care of in the moment. All you can do is give a quick nod and he’s rising to his feet. He takes your hand in his own, guiding you to your bedroom.

Once inside, he steps toward your bathroom to leave you lingering by your bed, the pillows and sheets looking ever so inviting in the moment. Then he returns, a few fresh make-up wipes in his hand. You almost want to laugh because of course he’s thought of everything, but all you can do is smile at him. Tenderly, he begins swiping the wipes over your face, cleaning the foundation and eye shadow, and even taking extra care going over your lashes. Once again, he’s as gentle as ever, taking his time to do it properly. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never even had a boyfriend so attentive. It’s easy to feel spoiled with him. It’s even easier when you’ve been drinking. You allow him to pamper you for a moment, clearing away the make-up and when he’s done, he steps behind you to tug on the zipper to your dress.

You call for him, feeling hot beneath his focused gaze.

“Yes?” He pulls his hands back, waiting on your voice to guide him.

“I think… I think I’ve got it from here.” You don’t know why it was almost difficult to tell him to stop. Maybe because part of you wants to see how far he will go, what lengths will he reach to please you. The other part is scared, but not of him. You’re scared of your own feelings, and your own heart, knowing how someone like you, once so broken and alone, could begin to fall for someone like him. 

You don’t give yourself the chance.

“Goodnight, Miss,” is all he says, offering a smile before stepping out of your bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

***

They say when it rains, it pours, but they don’t tell you that there are moments of sunlight between the storms. You feel as if that’s what the past year has been for you. From finding out your ex-fiance was cheating on you with your best friend, you went into a spiral of overwhelming workloads to take your mind off of it. Then you met him, feeling as if there was a little hope for you to get your life back on track with having someone to actually assist and be there for you. 

From tabloid headlines to bring all the memories back to finding comfort in his arms, all the way to feeling as if the storm was finally over just to be reminded of it all with a visit from your ex. In one way or another, life remains a rollercoaster for you, and now that you’ve had too many good days, the storm begins to roll in once again.

“I just can’t believe she could ask me that!” You pace back and forth in your living room, seething, on the verge of tears once again due to your past. Funny how you can hurt so much and it’s not even your fault. “She sat there and just said it! Flat out asked me how I feel about them getting engaged!”

He remains quiet, allowing you to pace, and vent, and do whatever you need to do, as long as you remain safe. He is settled on the couch, watching you stomp around in a circle, throwing your hands up in the air. It’s almost as if you’re having a conversation with yourself, but it’s not like you’re giving him much chance to speak, anyway.

“I spent months filming a movie and working my ass off only for them to want to bring up the fact that my ex-douche of a fiance cheated on me with my best friend and now they’re getting married.” 

You huff, and groan, and eventually you fall next to him on the sofa. He says nothing, waiting until the time is right to speak, so you begin talking to yourself once again.

“Not to mention I no longer have the two people I was closest with in my life. I feel so alone sometimes even though it feels as if the whole world is looking in on my personal life and having opinions!” Leaning forward, your head crashes into your hands. “I thought at least the interviews and the press would take my mind off of it, but how could it when they only want to mention the one thing that absolutely crushed my heart. And you know what… it’s not even like I care! Let them get married. Whatever! But why is that all anyone wants to talk about? Why is that all anything everyone thinks of when they think of me? They are the ones that fucked up and I am the only one facing the consequences of it.” 

Finally, it all comes crashing down at once. You realize how exhausting venting is, crumbling into the cushions to bury your head like a child. The tears well into your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. Not anymore. You’re too tired of crying over them. And it’s true, you don’t care they are getting married. You’re only upset that it keeps haunting you and not allowing you to move on. Not to mention how you felt like an idiot having to sit there and smile through the interview, letting the hosts get away with nosy questions they shouldn’t have asked in the first place. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally say, pulling yourself from the pile of cushions and turning to face him. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I just… well, I don’t have anyone but you.” 

“There’s no need to apologize, Miss.” He reaches to take your hand in his. “Your comfort is my top priority and as I understand it this ex-douche and your old assistant continue to cause you distress.” 

You can’t help but to chuckle at him repeating your newfound nickname for your ex-fiance. He truly does know all the right things to say, even if it’s by accident. 

“How about I run a hot bath to help you relax?” 

At first you want to disagree and tell him that’s not necessary, but the idea of soaking your tense muscles in steaming water really does sound appealing. After a moment, you agree, and he is off to start running the water after telling you to wait just a moment. You remain settled on the couch, minutes passing until you hear him entering the living room once again.

“It’s ready,” is all he says before you rise to your feet and he guides you to the bathroom in the hall with a large jacuzzi tub. The smell of vanilla enters your nose in an instant, realizing he has dimmed the lights before placing a few candles around the bathroom. The water still runs gently into the tub, continuing to fill up while waiting on you. There’s a clean town ready for you on the side, along with a washcloth, and a fresh change of clothes for when you’re done. 

“I added some drops of relaxing oils to the water. They should help sooth your muscles and make your skin feel soft.”

He’s thought of everything, you think, grinning to yourself. “You did all this just to help me?” He nods, flashing a bright smile you suddenly can’t seem to keep your eyes off of. You don’t remember ever seeing him grin so wide, as if he were proud of himself. The sight of it melts your heart. 

“I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” 

“Thank you.” You smile in return, heart fluttering while feeling weak in the knees. 

“Of course. It’s my pleasure. Would you like me to help you undress?” 

Your eyes grow wide for a moment. Of course your first instinct is to shy away from him and tell him no. Though suddenly something deep within you is tempted to say yes. Maybe it’s the frustration you’re feeling, so tired of all the bad news, the heartache, the sudden emotions that come bursting to the surface. Maybe it’s in the way he always puts you at ease, and you just don’t want to be alone in the moment.  

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll leave you be. Just know that I only want to help.” You hesitate for a moment longer, flipping back and forth between saying no, and begging him not to go, not to leave you. Eventually, the need to have him stay outweighs everything. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you tell yourself. He’s there to help. 

“I would like that.” Your voice seems so small in the moment, so shy and insecure at him helping you. He understands your hesitation, not daring to move too fast or too sudden as he reaches for you. He begins with the buttons of your blouse, plucking them slowly one by one while you look anywhere but at his hands working.

“Your smile earlier,” you suddenly say, maybe out of nerves as he undresses you, trying to think of anything else in the moment but how the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering like crazy. “Sometimes it’s so human... I guess that was the first time you’ve smiled like that.” 

Your heart races as he grins wider, as if to show off the proud, human smile you’re talking about.

“I hear it eases humans and they find kind smiles attractive,” he replies. “Do you?” 

Suddenly, you feel as if your heart will beat right out of your chest. There’s a playful tone in question. Was this an android’s attempt at flirting with you? “Well, yeah of course.” Then you chuckle, shying away from him with a bite of your lip. “You look so believable, yet unbelievable sometimes. Everything about you is so real. Sometimes I forget…” 

“I’m not human?” 

“Yeah…” 

“I was made just for you. To make you comfortable and assist you. All of my features were designed specifically with your satisfaction in mind, even down to the smallest detail. Do you want to touch?” 

Your eyes grow wide for a moment when you turn to look at him just as he peels back your shirt from your shoulders, leaving you in your skirt and silky, black bra. 

“Touch?” You gulp, feeling so exposed, so hot under his gaze but not wanting to stop. The thumping of your heartbeat reaches your ears, already on edge, feeling jittery from the nerves, but you can’t imagine what will happen if he doesn’t continue.

“Yes,” is all he says, “you can touch me if you would like.” 

You never thought about touching him, only what it would feel like if he touched you, but now you can’t turn down the opportunity. As you think it over, he eases your skirt down your hips to fall to your feet a few seconds before you finally reach out to brush the tips of your fingers over his cheek. In an instant his eyes flash, first white, then a pretty, pale pink, before settling back to the usual hue. 

“Your eyes,” you comment. “They change colors sometimes.” 

“Ah, yes,” he begins with a grin, “it’s how I show a response to certain situations. It’s the only way I can communicate without purpose, or to put it simply, a natural reaction to what is happening.” 

“So… the pink? Is from…” 

“Your touch.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t want to get your hopes up that it means more than it actually does, but you can’t help it. You’ve seen his eyes a natural color, deep blue when he comforts you, even red when getting between you and the drunk actor at the party. All the way down to white when he is thinking something over, but pink…

Pink is for when the two of you are close. When he takes care of you. When he touches you. And now, when you touch him. 

Your fingers continue to graze over his flesh, soft and clean and feeling so pure, before your thumb moves to his mouth. You feel the warmth of his bottom lip, the fullness and the way you move effortlessly over his faux flesh. As you touch, you notice the tiny pores beneath his lip. It’s such a small detail but it makes him so much more human. A perfect little imperfection and suddenly there’s warmth blossoming in your chest. 

He’s perfect in every way. You feel like you don’t deserve him, but you don’t want him with anyone else, either. 

“Would you like me to continue?” he asks, and then you realize you’re in nothing but your bra and panties. The tub is almost full by now, so before you respond, he reaches behind you to twist the faucet and turn the water off. You peek into the tub, seeing the steam rising to carry the scent of the vanilla candles on the counter through the entire room and out into the hall. 

“Yes,” you quickly say before you lose the courage. It’s not even like you to be so shy in front of men, having been more than confident in the bedroom. But he is no ordinary man. He’s no man at all. He’s perfect, and he’s yours. 

Without a word, he steps behind you to tug at the clasp of your bra. Gently, he allows the straps to fall from your shoulder before the fabric to the floor. You’re curious of his next move. Will he try to look at you? Try to touch?

He does neither. Instead he carefully tugs at the straps to your panties, slipping the thin fabric down your legs to pool at your feet. You’re completely bare in front of him, exposed, vulnerable.

Yet for the first time in a while, you don’t feel the need to shy away. Your heart is still racing, of course, and your knees feel weak, but the doubts and insecurities have turned to thrill. It’s exhilarating being in front of him like this. So carefree and open, he takes your mind off of your worries. 

He steps in front of you a moment later. Your eyes meet his, but suddenly they no longer shine the pink hue you were getting used to. Now they’re red. A deep red, reminding you of passion and longing. Your heart skips a beat. Could he really be feeling attraction to you?

“Ready to step in, Miss?” he asks, keeping his cool, calm, collected aura though his eyes tell a different story. 

You blink a few times just to make sure you’re not imagining it. “Your eyes…”

All he can do is look right back at you. As if he has no explanation for it himself, and maybe it’s better that way. Though it does leave you curious, and soon that curiosity turns to longing. There’s something igniting within the both of you, even if it doesn’t make sense. There’s no way he could feel anything for you, right?

In a sudden moment of boldness, you find yourself leaning closer, reaching for him, gripping his dress shirt tight in your fingers. You want to feel him near you, feel his soft skin against your own, those perfect lips against your flesh. Without thinking, you close your eyes, pressing your mouth to his, the softness of his skin heating you up, making you whimper against him. You linger for a moment, deciding you could die right then and there and it would be nothing but pure bliss. He’s warm against the kiss and you deepen the gesture by leaning into him. He accepts you, finally placing his hands on your bare hips and you can’t even think of being naked in front of him in the moment. All you can think of is how you have wanted to do this for far longer than you would like to admit.

When you pull away, you’re gasping for breath. Reality quickly sets in as a wave of embarrassment floods you, cheeks burning hot and now you’re too shy to look at him. 

But when you do look at him, you’re stunned in silence. His eyes flash between different colors, white, pink and red. There’s bursts of purple and then they turn yellow, back to white, and then settle. It’s as if he’s overwhelmed and it’s the only way he can let you know, truly know, and your heart races beyond belief at the sight.

“I-I’m ready… ready now…” It takes you a moment for the words to come properly, remembering the steaming hot bath he prepared you. You realize there’s a small burst of pride blossoming in your chest, as if you finally got the answer you wanted all along. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you in the moment, but you admit it feels right. 

He nods and assists you into the tub. You ease your body into the warmth of the water, sighing at the way your muscles loosen in an instant. Though it doesn’t help the butterflies in your stomach any, but you have him to blame for that.

Still, you try to relax considering he prepared this all for you. Your eyes close and you sink lower into the tub, only hearing him shuffling about until his voice finally spills into the air.

“I’ll allow you to rest,” is all he says, and in an instant your eyes open, heart already longing for him when he’s not even gone yet.

You straighten your back and bring your knees to your chest. “Will you stay?”

The way he hesitates for a second would tell you he’s surprised, but then he smiles and nods. “Of course.” You’re smiling as well as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. 

“Will you hand me that washcloth?” You point to the fresh washcloth he had readied for you earlier, and he grabs it without hesitation to hand over. “Actually… will you…” You don’t finish the question, only handing the cloth back to him, and he quickly gets the idea of what you’re hinting at, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to unveil strong arms with veins appearing from his hands and spiraling upward. It’s another small detail to make him more human, but it also makes you more breathless, finding him attractive while yearning for his touch. 

“Sure.” He dips the cloth in the water to wet it before squirting a dollop of soap. He lathers it up for a moment, and you turn back around to offer him your back. Within seconds he’s washing you, rubbing the cloth from shoulder to shoulder, causing you to whimper once again beneath his touch. The memories of the massage come into mind, his gentle hands and the way he was so careful. Heat washes over you, an ache settling between your thighs. 

You allow him to take his time. The feeling of him washing you eases every inch of your body, even if you are becoming aroused all over again from the situation. You try to ignore it, letting yourself be pampered by him. 

When he pulls away, you assume he’s washed all he could reach. So, you lean back against the tub, exposing your chest, your breasts, for him. He waits a moment as you take a deep breath, then he leans in to begin tending to the newly uncovered areas.

His touch remains delicate. He’s gentle as he moves over your skin. You feel your nipples hardening as he brushes the cloth past them, offering a quiet moan in return. You want to know what his expression looks like as he washes you, but your eyes are shut too tight. You’re far too nervous to take a peek, so you keep them closed to focus on the feeling of him taking care of you. Warmth spirals from between your thighs to the pit of your stomach and finally your chest. The ache grows nearly painful between your legs. You lick your lips and whimper beneath his touch, breaths becoming heavy, needing more.

You call for him, but you aren’t even sure what to say. What could you say? How do you tell him his touch does incredible things to your body and you want to get off? Even the thought sounds ridiculous to you. How could he make you ache with need more than any man ever has when he isn’t even human? How could you be so turned on from the simplest of touches from him? “Could you.. I mean… I need…”

You’re a mumbling mess, not knowing how to beg for him even if you could muster up the courage. Your head falls back against the tub, trying to clear your head with a gulp, and he continues to massage your chest though he’s been done washing you for a while.

But it’s as if he can sense what you need. Like he was made to give you what you crave even when you can’t ask for it. He disregards the cloth to the side, allowing his hand to meet your skin and you release a gasp in return. He’s touching you, all of you, running his hand down your chest, over your breasts, remaining cautious the entire time. You can’t help but to whimper while pushing your body into his hand. Even if the words fail you, you realize you can ask in other ways. You can show him what you need. 

“Can I touch you?” he suddenly asks, and the simple question leaves you breathless. His tone is deeper, darker, suddenly needier than you have ever heard him before. Considering he’s already touching you, the question can only mean one thing. “Can I pleasure you?” 

Such a simple question but it leaves you shaking with need. It burns hot inside of you, feeling as if you’ll combust if he doesn’t do just that.

“Please…”

It’s all he needs to hear. His hand brushes past your stomach, fingers dancing for a moment below your belly button. It’s as if he’s giving you a chance to tell him no, to back out. But you say nothing, only parting your thighs for him before he dives deeper into the water.

The moment you feel him brush over your mound, your senses go haywire. A rush of lust and heat overwhelms you, eyes shutting tight as you lick your lips, back arching from the side of the tub. Just the simple touch already has you so worked up and you’re dying for more. 

As his fingers slip down your slit, a gasp falls from your lips. Ever so slightly your hips roll, begging for more without words. He wastes no time giving you what you need, though he does draw the moment out. His fingers caress up and down your slit, working you up further, drawing out a quiet whimper before you’re breathless. He teases and plays between your thighs, surprising you that he can already know how to touch. 

Finally he finds your clit, brushing over the swollen bud to leave you gasping. You bite down on your bottom lip and grip the edge of the tub, feeling his fingers ease over your delicate areas with care. He starts slowly, massaging small circles into your flesh, and your body calms from being tense. You give into the pleasure beginning to build, allowing him to take control of the situation, to make you feel good. He tends to your aching folds as you begin to whimper, heavy breaths falling, hips moving against him. 

You call for him, releasing his name in a breathless whisper. “God, please… please, don’t stop.” No longer are you feeling shy and insecure. He brought out the desires in you and now you only have one thing on your mind. 

“You’re shaking,” he tells you, his deep, needy tone hinting at amusement. His fingers begin to work faster, drawing out each and every bliss-filled moan from your body. You can hold back no longer, letting go of all your worries and giving in to the way he makes you feel. “Does it feel good?”

“Y-Yes,” is all you can manage, biting down on your bottom lip a second later while focusing on the feel of his fingers against your skin. Suddenly, he leans closer, his deep, dark voice a whisper in your ear. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” The question leaves you even more breathless, as if the words suck the air right out of your chest. His tone demands an answer and his fingers work quicker against your clit. 

“God… yes,” you gasp, back arching from the side of the tub, thighs threatening to close around him. “It feels so… so good.”

“Come for me,” he encourages with a low growl in your ear. “Come on my fingers. Let me hear those sweet little noises you make when you come undone.”

God, who was he? He was suddenly a different person, though you couldn’t complain. The words were everything you needed to hear as he brought you closer to the edge. His fingers on your clit felt like magic, warmth bursting through you without warning, bliss finally spilling over and surging through your body. Your head falls back, thighs clasping around his hand, rolling your hips and whimpering, moaning, so breathless all at once. Your body shakes beneath him, trembling with pure pleasure, stars in your eyes from how tight you’re squeezing them shut. 

Then you begin to come down, still shaking, still breathless. He soothes your body with a gentle kiss to your temple, making your eyes flutter open to look at him. There you notice the hue of his eyes, a color between pink and purple, almost as if it’s melting between the two. You look at him for a moment, so at peace, so relaxed and on cloud nine. He grins in return, only staring back at you for a moment before he leans in to press his soft lips against your forehead. 

You don’t say much as he helps you finish your bath. You realize you’re too exhausted for words. Instead, you allow him to take care of you. He pulls the drain to the tub before helping you out, grabbing the towel to begin drying you off. He remains careful with his every motion until you’re dry and he wraps the towel around you. Then he guides you to your bedroom before you crawl into bed, tossing the towel to the side and slipping beneath the covers.

You call his name.

“Yes?”

You bite your lip to hide your grin. Somehow you’re still on cloud nine. “Will you stay here tonight?” you ask him, feeling shy with your voice low. “With me?”

His smile flashes once again. “Of course.”

***

In the morning, the memories of the night before hit you like a ton of bricks. It feels like a dream at first, only hints here and there of what happened. Images of him helping you undress fill your mind first, then you touching his face comes next. What follows is a quick sequence of you stepping into the tub and then suddenly you’re begging for him to touch you.

Your eyes pop open, heart pounding against your ribs. Suddenly you can’t breathe, but for different reasons. Suddenly embarrassment floods you, feelings of guilt weighing on your heart, wondering how you could be so stupid to do such a thing.

He isn’t real.

He’s not human.

How could you use him like that just to feel close to someone after so long? Have you really gotten that lonely? Has your heart been broken beyond repair?

The questions run through your mind one after another, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach and needing to get out, away, anywhere but there. Luckily, he isn’t next to you when you hop out of bed.

Good, you think, you can maybe sneak past him to head out. You aren’t even sure where you’ll go, you just need to get out. Clear your head. Take time to think away from the enticing android probably in the kitchen making you breakfast.

The thought sends your stomach churning all over again. You aren’t sure if it’s because it makes you feel so pathetic in the first place, or if it’s because part of you feels as if you have somehow taken advantage of him. He has been nothing but kind and professional since he arrived. How could you start to feel so many things for him all at once? How could you ask him to perform such an intimate act on you?

You can’t give the thoughts another second of your time. At least not right now, deciding to rush to the bathroom to freshen up as quickly as you can before getting dressed. After washing your face, brushing your teeth, and managing your hair enough so it doesn’t actually look like you just woke up, you throw on a simple t-shirt and jeans before sneaking out of your bedroom.

You peek into the hallway first, spotting him nowhere in sight and not taking a moment to realize how ridiculous this is. You shouldn’t be sneaking around. You should face your problems head on, admitting to what you actually did with him.

But it’s all too overwhelming, and you can’t even understand your emotions at the moment. How could you face them?

Tip-toeing into the living room, you finally notice him in the kitchen as the smell of breakfast hits your nose. His back is to you, guilt weighing you down all over again as you think for a moment about if you could sneak past him. Just slip on by, grab your shoes and bag, and run out the door.

Before you have the option, he turns around to spot you. Instantly, he brightens the entire room with his smile. “Good morning,” he greets you, as if nothing is wrong. As if what happened the night before didn’t actually happen. “I’m making you breakfast. Toast and eggs, just how you like.”

The sight of him instantly has your heart crumbling into pieces. You want nothing more than to pretend nothing is wrong, but the guilt and embarrassment won’t allow it.

“Sorry,” you quickly say, turning away from him because you’re afraid if you stare at him any longer, you’ll be tempted to stay. “I have to go.”

“Go?” he asks, but you ignore him to slip on your sneakers resting by the door. “You didn’t have anything planned for today. Would you like me to-”

“No!” You turn around, shaking your head and clearly leaving him confused. He blinks a few times, eyes flashing white while trying to read your mood, but you have already stayed longer than you would have liked. “No, sorry, I just really need to go…”

With that, you rush out the front door without another word. You’re rushing too fast toward the stairs at the end of the hall to focus on the guilt building in your chest, the way your stomach churns. On top of coming to terms with what happened the night before, now you feel worse for brushing him off as you did. 

He didn’t deserve that, you tell yourself, he did nothing wrong. It was all me. 

Tears begin to well in your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. You blink them away while rushing from the apartment to the sidewalk, ignoring the looks a few pedestrians give you while making your way to the only place you can think of in the moment.

***

It’s been a while since you’ve been to Mr. Park’s office. The furniture in the lobby is rearranged from the last time you were here picking up your new assistant, and he even has a new secretary settled behind the desk. The secretary that is now rushing to you, informing you can’t possibly barge into Mr. Park’s office, but that’s exactly where you’re heading. 

“I need another assistant.” The words come bursting out the second you walk in, spotting Mr. Park behind his desk, glasses on his face that are now lowered to see his brows raised.

“Ma’am, you can’t be in here!” the secretary continues to tell you, but Mr. Park shoos her away, telling her it’s okay. 

“Something wrong with your android?” he asks, setting down the papers he was reading to give you his attention. “Was there a malfunction or-” 

“No, no that’s the problem… he’s perfect. Too perfect!” You sigh in frustration, sinking into a leather chair on the opposite side of his desk. “I need someone not so… young, and good-looking, and someone that doesn’t say exactly what I want to hear and do everything I want him to do in the moment, and someone…” 

“Someone that’s not perfect for you?” Mr. Park interrupts, a coy smile on his lips. You aren’t even sure why he’s humoring you considering you barged in. Reality sets in and has heat bursting into your cheeks, wondering what has gotten into you lately. You would normally have never been so rude. “He is everything you asked us for, isn’t he?” 

“...and more,” you admit in a low, hesitant voice, slumping down in your chair with a frown. Mr. Park laughs, ridding the room of tension even though you feel completely miserable inside. 

“Having second thoughts about an android as an assistant?” 

“More like too many thoughts, and feelings, and even more I should not be experiencing.” 

“Who says?” He frowns with the question. 

“Me! I say! He’s not even human, but I’m…” You pause mid-sentence, causing his eyes to grow wide. “He’s perfect. He’s too good to be true, honestly. I don’t know how to accept how I am feeling for him when I feel so ashamed because he isn’t even real. He’s perfect for me because he was only programmed to be. Nothing more. It’s not actually real.” 

“Well, that’s only partly true.” 

Your eyes flick toward him with a furrowed brow, a sudden spark in your chest. “What do you mean?” 

“Sure, this android might not be one hundred percent human, but he once was.” Mr. Park pulls the glasses from his face before rubbing his eyes, making it clear he has been reading his paperwork for too long. Maybe that’s why he’s humoring you. He just needed a break, and maybe some entertainment considering you’re a second away from a meltdown. “Many years ago, the first ever android made by our company was modeled after a real human being.” 

You blink, mind already spinning with questions and curiosities, but you say nothing and allow him to explain. 

”Real human, real personality, characteristics, history, feelings and responses to situations. We have even had androids who once were thought to be malfunctioning because they expressed their own desires and emotions, and were eventually thrown out. Turns out, after a few years we realized we could use that mistake to better them.” He offers a smile at the thought, as if he is proud of the progress his company has made. “Since then we have, of course, advanced our technology and creation of the androids for many purposes, but the core of what makes our androids special will always remain the same.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Park?” You sit up in your chair, giving him your full attention as you hang on to every word.  

“He is as real as you want him to be. He grows with you, learns from you. After a while, though our important programming and data will remain functional, he’s hardly our creation. He’s yours.”

“You mean…” You feel as if your heart will stop beating at any second. “He can feel things for me? He can grow to…”

“To care for you and eventually love you?” He chuckles, and your mouth falls open the moment he nods his head in delight. “Of course. The technicalities of what makes him run may not be human, but what he develops to feel for you certainly is. It came from a real place, after all.” 

There it is. The main thing holding you back from him. After months of ignoring your feelings and desires, Mr. Park tells you in a few words it was all pointless anyway. There’s no need to worry over him not being real when the things he can feel (and it surprises you he even can feel things) are very much real. The way he responds to you is real and is natural. It’s the reason his eyes shift colors. It’s the reason it makes it so easy to fall for him. 

“But I… I mean I did… things…”

Mr. Park smiles, getting the hint from your shyness and the way your words fall that you are hinting at the physical relationship with him. “Do you feel guilt because of it? Because you allowed yourself to be loved? You allowed yourself to be shown pure affection?”

“Well ,when you put it like that…” You bite your lip, images of the night before flashing in your mind. He took such good care of you, and it’s hard to deny how much you needed it. Your body craved him, but even more, your mind deserved release and your heart was dying to feel something other than pain and distractions. “I guess I feel like I did something wrong because I didn’t think he could feel things. How could he agree to do… that with me when he’s programmed to do whatever I want? I didn’t want to force him. I didn’t want him not to have a choice.”

“Oh, believe me,” Mr. Park begins, throwing his head back with laughter, “an android will never do something it doesn’t want to. They have a lot more free will than one would like to believe. Trust me, I could tell you a few stories.”

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little more at ease over what happened. 

“Yes, yes, I could, of androids hating their original purposes and picking completely new ones all on their own, but we’ll save that for another day,” he says with a smile. “Your android was programmed to do what you wanted, that’s true, but it’s not the specific actions that are just some simple tasks his processor handles. He was programmed to be your companion, your protector. What that means for him is ultimately up to him, do you see?”

As he speaks, the guilt weighing you down like a thousand pound weight feels lighter with every word. He was created for you, to be perfect for you, but the relationship the two of you have is real. What he feels for you is real, and what you feel for him in return is not wrong. Maybe the parts aren’t human, that’s true, but the experiences the two of you shared, the way he makes you feel warm and safe, your happiness when he is near, it’s incredibly real and nothing to be ashamed of. You see that now. 

“Thank you, Mr. Park.” You quickly stand with a smile before your emotions begin to overwhelm you.

“Of course,” he says, standing to walk you to the door, “but how about a phone call first? You bursting in here nearly gave me a fright and I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Oh, right,” you begin, giggling in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Thank you!”

You leave his office while giving an apologetic glance to the secretary to finally make your way home. 

***

“You’re troubled.” He sits with you at dinner, though the two of you haven’t spoken much. When you arrived home, you admit you were feeling better thanks to the talk with Mr. Park, but you still had to deal with actually facing your emotions. It’s one thing to talk about it with someone not involved, and an entirely different thing to be face to face. 

You apologized for running out on him, and of course he told you it was nothing to apologize for. He asked if everything was okay, and you lied and told him you were fine, only to sneak away to your office to clear your head before dinner. A little while later, he called you when it was ready, realizing he had another one of your favorite meals laid out on the dining room table. 

“I just have a lot on my mind,” you tell him, and it couldn’t be more of an understatement. 

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” he says, just like he always does, and no matter what you do or how you act, he is always there to comfort you. The thought has you both the warmth spiraling in your chest and guilt weighing you down, but it’s only from not knowing how to tell him what was bothering you. You want to be open and honest with him. He deserves that much.

A few moments of silence pass, and he doesn’t push any further.

“How do you feel about me?” you suddenly ask before you lose the courage. You look to him, staring into his eyes as if it will help you find the answer.

“My purpose is to assist you and be there for anything you need,” he replies, and you almost want to laugh at his proper, programmed response.

“No, I know, but I mean… how do you feel about me?”

He pauses for a moment and you grow more anxious with every second that passes. Your heart beats quicker, harder, nearly on the edge of your seat until his calm, soothing voice brings you back down. 

“Being with you makes me happy. I don’t want to be anywhere else if it’s not by your side. Seeing you every day gives me purpose. You put meaning into my life, and I hope for it to be that way for as long as I live.” You have no words the moment he stops speaking. All you can do is stare at him, blinking, lips parted, on the verge of tears because his words wrapped around your heart and nearly squeezed all the life out of it before receiving you once again, but you don’t allow them to fall. His confession overwhelms you, not knowing exactly what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. He notices he left you speechless for a moment, so he continues with a smile, eyes falling to his lap as if he’s suddenly in his own little world. “Seeing you happy makes me happy, but more than that… I feel complete. You’re the reason I exist. You’re my reason for everything. So I want to be with you, not only because it’s my purpose, but because I love you.” 

The first tear hits your cheek when he stops speaking and by the time you call his name, they fall freely. You can’t hold them back. You can’t hold yourself back, either.

You rush to him, wanting to feel him close, wanting him to hold you. And he does, wrapping arms around you as you settle in his lap, lips crashing into his as you clutch his shirt tight in your fist. The tears continue to fall, but you don’t pull away, so overwhelmed with relief and so full of love for him.

You love him, and he loves you, and it’s completely, entirely real. There’s no explanation needed beyond that. You don’t need a reason to feel the way you do, you just need to love him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when you pull away. “I went to see Mr. Park today because of what happened. I was so scared of how I was feeling and I was so worried I did something wrong. I felt so ashamed for feeling the way I felt and I just wanted… I just…”

You’re breathless by the time your rambling words fail, and all he can do is pull you close. Your head falls against his shoulder, allowing him to hold you as you cry. 

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me.” He begins caressing your back to soothe your tears. You can only clutch him tighter, never wanting to let him go in the moment. “I understand. There were… moments when I felt confused as well. I can only imagine the emotions you were experiencing.”

Pulling away from his chest, you sniffle and while wiping your cheeks of the tears. “You were confused?”

He grins and nods. “I wasn’t prepared to feel the things I felt for you. I was tested a lot when I was made. I was given instructions on how to do many things, but falling in love with my human was never brought up.”

His way of speaking, his serious tone and matter-fact-words as if everything has to be textbook definition explanations makes you begin giggling. He chuckles as well, pulling you to him and wrapping both arms around your body now. You can’t resist leaning in and giving him a peck on the lips because God, you’ve wanted to do it for so long and be like this with him you feel as if you have to make up for lost time. 

“But they said you were a companion… able to get, uh, physical if the person wanted.” You aren’t sure why it still makes you so shy to think about. Maybe it’s because it’s all so new or maybe it’s just because he is perfect, and you never want to be anything less than that for him as well. 

“That’s true, I am capable of responding to my human’s needs after reading their body language.” Your cheeks are suddenly hot with his words as he speaks, wondering just how far he could go. “Physical relationships are different from emotional ones, however. They told me you needed an assistant and nothing more. I never expected to get so close to you. I never expected…”

“To do what you did last night?” For a second his eyes flash that dark, deep red that makes your body burn, and then they settle. “I didn’t expect it either. Any of it, honestly, but I can’t help it. I love you, too. I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I want to be with you.” 

His eyes shift from his default color to yellow as you speak, and your chest blossoms with love all over again. It fills you up just to look at him, so in love and for the first time, it’s all you feel. You feel his love and he feels yours, and for the first time in a while you’re truly happy.

***

A few days pass while getting comfortable with your new relationship with him. Even if you aren’t ashamed anymore, it does take some getting used to. You’re less shy around him, allowing him to run your baths and pamper you without worries. He even sleeps in the bed with you. Well, you sleep, and he rests, and you enjoy his warmth all night long while he lies next to you, holding you, keeping  you safe and comfortable in his arms. 

You don’t bother pushing the relationship any further because it’s all so new and enjoyable to be with him as simply as that. He still cooks for you and manages your work schedules just like he was programmed to do, but there are times when he feels more like a boyfriend and less like an assistant. The thought always makes you giggle, and you want to bring it up to him one day, wondering what you are to one another, but in the end you decide it doesn’t matter. He’s your android, and you’re his human. It doesn’t need any more explanation.

Eventually, the desires do rise again. Especially in the moments when he offers to give you a massage, or tends to you in the bath. When he kisses you good night, holds you against his chest, and does all the things a proper boyfriend would do. You fall even more in love with him and with nothing holding you back, each day that passes you grow more curious about his response to your needs, as he put it. Your body begins to grow hot at the simplest of touches. It’s clear you crave to get closer to him, going further than you went before when he touched you between your thighs. He never pushes, however. He never does anything you don’t want him to, but you aren’t sure how he will respond when you make it clear exactly what you’re wanting. 

You’re also more than curious about him, seeing and tending to his body just like he has yours. There’s been a few times during a massage or bath that you’ve wanted to touch him as well, though you never knew how to go about it. Of course, you’re more than confident he wouldn’t mind, but you wanted it to feel right. 

One night while you’re in bed after you’ve showered, the curiosities get the better of you. “What you said about responding to my needs…”

“Yes?” He arches a brow, looking over you tucked beneath the sheets already. He was just getting situated himself when you decided to ask, so he settled for having a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you. 

“What about your needs?” You bite your lip, waiting for him to answer.

“My needs?” His expression twists to surprise, but you can’t blame him. 

“Do you have needs?” you question, voice lowering with every word. “Can you feel pleasure, too?” It’s not that you’re embarrassed to ask him, but more so you aren’t sure how to get the point across. You wonder if it’s silly to think about such things. You imagine most android owners don’t bother with their needs, but you want to be mindful of what he wants as well. You’re also curious. Can he feel pleasure? Can he even get aroused? 

“Of course,” he begins, and you assume he’s going to tell you how your pleasure is his pleasure, how making you happy makes him happy, but that’s not what you want to know.

“I mean… sexually…” Now you’re feeling shy, but you gather the courage to sit up from the bed and reach for him. “Like… how does this feel?” Your hand falls to his thigh, caressing over the blue, silk pajama pants he wore to bed. Suddenly you feel him tense beneath your palm, the muscles of his thighs tightening much to your surprise. You didn’t even know he could react in such a way.

“I like it,” he says without hesitation. “I feel … good when you touch me.” You look up, meeting his eyes to spot a familiar deep red hue within them to confirm the words he tells you. 

“Can you become… aroused?” The last word leaves your lips in a whisper. You feel so silly in the moment, being shy about simply asking questions, feeling like a school girl in sex-ed getting too curious for her own good. “What if I touched higher?” Before he can reply, your hand shifts up his leg, skimming over what feels like a bulge in them. You gulp, never having touched him like this. Suddenly your nipples are hard, pressing tight against your thin nightgown, heat building between your thighs. 

You palm him through his pants, surprised to feel him growing harder beneath your touch. Your heart races but you can’t pull away. You want to touch him, and from the groan he releases, he wants it, too.

“I am currently aroused, so yes, I can become aroused.” You giggle and bite your lip at the way he answers. It suddenly lightens the mood, realizing he is enjoying what you’re doing to him. 

“You’re getting hard.” You meet his eyes again to see the passion burning within them. Part of you only did this as an experiment because you were curious. The rest of you wants to finish because he seems to be enjoying it so much. 

“You’re touching me,” he replies, a smirk appearing on his lips that makes you giggle again. 

“I’m sorry for the questions,” you tell him, “I was just curious. I wasn’t sure… how it worked.” But you don’t stop caressing him. You don’t think you could stop at this point after feeling him grow beneath you and his eyes telling you how much he likes it. 

“How it worked?” He raises a brow and smirks. “I can show you.”

Your cheeks burn hot from his words, knowing he was only teasing you, easing the tension in the situation to make you feel even more comfortable. “I mean, being with you. How all of that works. You responding to my needs. How it feels for you when I touch you.”

“Do you want it to feel good?” he asks, tone deepening to send a shiver down your spine. “Do you want to bring me pleasure?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Images flash in your mind of all the ways you could make him feel good, all the ways you want to make him feel good and all the things you want to do to him.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly. “I want to make you feel good, just like you did for me. Is it possible for you to, uh, for you to… you know.”

“To have an orgasm?” He doesn’t beat around the bush. In the moment, you’re thankful, even if the blunt words catch you a little off guard. You nod your head in response. “Sure, but not in the typical way humans do.”

“How so?” You cock your head to one side, embarrassment pushed away for the moment to fully take in his words. 

“My senses aren’t like yours, but I do have them. They can become overwhelmed in a positive way with certain emotions, certain affections from someone I am fond of. The sensors inside me either react positively, negatively, or neutral to the source of the touch.” Your eyes are wide as he speaks, hanging on to each word because it’s so new and interesting to you. Not to mention it will help you become closer. You’re thankful of that. “If there’s a lot of positive response all at once, which I imagine any pleasure from you would cause, well… you can guess.”

He “comes”, you think, but you keep it yourself. 

“So it feels nice?”

“It’s one of the best feelings I am told, but I haven’t experienced such a thing myself. Some would say it’s close to being in love, but nothing can compare to being in love with you.”

Smacking your lips, you roll your eyes before giggling. “When did you get so cheesy?” Before he can reply, you lean closer, pressing your lips to his, showing your thanks for him putting up with all your questions, and even letting him know you don’t mind his cheesiness once in a while. He pulls away from your lips smiling, and you’re grinning from ear to ear yourself. 

“As I was made to believe, human women enjoy this kind of romantic banter?” 

You burst into giggles at the statement, but you can’t disagree. It does feel good coming from him. 

“True,” you tell him. “There are other things human women and men enjoy that we haven’t went over, yet.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, and in a moment of courage, you go to him. Swinging a leg over his lap, you straddle him, wrapping arms around his neck while looking down at him.

“I can show you,” you tease him just as he did before, watching his eyes flash between pink and red. The sight makes you giggle and bite your lip, realizing it’s his form of being flustered. 

“I would love nothing more than to know.” His response sends a child down your spine while feeling his hands grip your hips. Without thinking, you begin to move back and forth over his lap, grinding softly against him until you feel his arousal once again. 

“Sometimes it feels good like this,” you tell him, voice becoming unsteady due to you wearing no panties beneath your nightgown. Your bare slit rubs against the silk of his pajama pants, feeling his hard and needy cock against you. “I can feel you getting hard. It makes me really wet to feel you like this.”

For the first time he shows with more than just his eyes how flustered he’s become. His lips part and his eyes widen, fingers gripping your hips tighter as you grind against him. Of course, you’re sure if he can know the proper ways to touch you and get you off in the bath, he probably knows anything else you can tell him. But the game of teacher and student is suddenly too thrilling. It has warmth flooding your body, feeling so powerful on top of him, telling him what you like and finally understanding what makes him feel good as well. 

“Does it feel good to rub your clit against my cock like this? To feel how hard you’ve made me?” His expression darkens, deep red in his eyes once again. He plays along with you, understanding in an instant your mood and what your body needs. You bite your lip, nodding and pressing yourself harder against him as the heat rises to your cheeks. Your body aches for him, clit throbbing and dying for his attention.

“It feels so good,” you tell him, breathless from your swollen clit rubbing against silk. “I could come like this, riding you just like this, but there is another way I like to get off.”

“Mm, how’s that?” He can’t help but to groan. Clearly you’re hitting all the right sensors in his body while straddling him. It begins to affect you more as well, feeling your nipples harden, pressing against your nightgown, as well as the arousal that drips from your core. You feel yourself growing hotter, wetter, grinding against him as the bliss fills your body.

“By you tasting me,” you answer, feeling even more bold than before. You’ve thought about his mouth on you, those perfect lips pressing to your slit, giving you pleasure, sucking on your clit. The images flash in your mind and it’s suddenly all too overwhelming. You crave him. You need him. 

“I would love to taste your pretty little pussy, baby.” He reaches to cup your cheek, causing you to gulp from his words and become breathless at the sudden term of endearment. It makes you feel warm all over again, and at the same time, so loved. “I would love to feel you come on my tongue, feel you shaking beneath me as you call my name and I give you pleasure.”

“Oh…” You can’t help but to lean in, pressing your lips to his, showing him passionate affection in the heat of the moment. He grips your body as you lean closer, giving him your all as his hands cup your ass and hold you close. You whimper against his lips, wanting more, needing all of him in the moment. 

You pull away breathless and it only takes him a few seconds to have you on your back, carefully placing you next to him on the bed. Then he crawls to his knees, and you can’t take your eyes off the bulge in his pants. It makes your body yearn for him, to feel him inside of you, but first, he wishes to taste you just like you mentioned. 

“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, voice deep and needy. You do as he says, opening yourself for him as his head dives between your thighs. You feel his lips against your flesh a moment later, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your mound, teasing you, working your body up only for him to offer the release for you to come back down. 

You call for him, reaching down to entangle your fingers in his hair. He groans from the sensation before you feel him part your folds with his tongue. A gasp fills the bedroom, back arching from the bed as he slides his tongue down to your soaked entrance and back up to your clit. Your mind grows numb, body too overwhelmed to think about anything other than focusing on the pleasure, the feeling of him messaging your flesh. He takes his time, starting out slow, teasing you, drawing out a few whimpers and curses beneath your breath. Your hips move to grind yourself against his face, coating his flesh in your slick arousal, hearing him groan from the way your body responds to him. 

Then he drags his velvet tongue down to your entrance once again, dipping inside your heat before moving to your clit in a blissful pattern. Your body begins trembling just like he said it would, so far gone while losing control of your senses. Filling the bliss building between your thighs, you call out his name, breathless, gasping for air and gripping the strands of his hair tight. He groans between your legs while leaving open-mouthed kisses over your clit, all before massaging the swollen bud in circles. 

His mouth drives you wild. Your back arches from the bed, eyes screwing shut, mouth falling open. Whimpers fill the room and he never pulls away from between your thighs even as you cry out to him that you’re coming. The bliss builds and bubbles over to send red hot pleasure surging through your entire body. It builds at your core and reaches your fingers and toes in waves, shaking, rolling your hips, getting every last ounce of pleasure you can from him. 

He doesn’t pull away even after you begin to come down. He offers sweet, soft kisses against your inner thigh to soothe your body, hands caressing your sides as you try to catch your breath. Even if the room is still spinning, your eyes flutter as you look for him. You meet his gaze as he stares up at you from between your legs. His eyes are a pale pink, yet so warm and inviting. Just the sight of him brings you enough peace to feel as if it will last forever. 

You would like nothing more than for this moment to last as long, but you also want to prove you meant what you said about making him feel just as good. As you begin to gain control of your senses, he crawls up your body to rest next to you on the bed. His lips fall to your skin, pressing soft kisses here and there, against your cheek and temple, but it doesn’t take long for you to take control of the situation.

Carefully, you push him down to the bed while settling on your knees. “I want to make you feel good.” The words have his eyes flickering between pink and red, sending another wave of warmth through your body. This time it’s for the love and affection you feel for him, knowing he feels the same. 

“I would enjoy it that very much,” is all he can manage, causing you to smirk. Gently, you tug on the hem of his shirt and he gets the idea. He helps you pull it over his head before you toss the fabric aside, leaving him in nothing but his pajama pants as your eyes scan every bare inch of him. 

Of course, he’s been shirtless a time or two around you in the middle of changing, but you’ve never seen him like this before. You’ve never taken a moment to study the outline of every curve and muscle. You’ve never had him in such a position, lying beneath you and waiting on your next move as you reach to brush your fingers across his skin. You feel his bare chest, the soft flesh beneath earning goosebumps over your own skin as you explore him. He’s still so warm, so perfect and inviting. Your thumb brushes over his nipple and suddenly he tenses beneath you.

“Is that okay?” you ask, wanting him to be comfortable just as he made you.

He nods, never pulling his eyes away from your face. “It feels nice,” he assures you, “I enjoy your hands on me. It brings me pleasure.” His words bring a grin to your lips. You continue exploring his body, running your fingers down his stomach before reaching the hem of his pants. You notice the bulge still pressing tight against the silk, making you feel flushed all over again. 

“Can I touch you here?” Part of you already knows he won’t mind, but you still want to be just as careful with his body as he always was with your own. 

His eyes flash for a moment, lips parting for a split-second as he blinks. “Y-Yes…” The strain in his voice speaking the word takes you by surprise. It’s the first time he’s ever responded in such a way, proving his arousal and the fact that you have him worked up. 

Biting your lip, you push his pants down his hips in a slow, gentle motion. His erect length comes to attention, earning your full focus as you take in the sight of him bare for you. Your eyes scan the length, gulping at the girth and feeling so overwhelmed all in such a short time. Without a word, you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, taking a peek at his face to see his intense gaze focused on you. You watch his eyes as you drag your palm over his silky, hot flesh, noticing the way the hues melt into pink, reds, and even purples. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was malfunctioning, but previous experiences such as your first kiss together convinces you it’s his honest way of proving how much he enjoys your touch. 

“Does that feel alright?” you ask in a whisper, continuing to stroke him, motions slow and steady. All he can do is nod, and eventually he closes his eyes as his head falls back against the bed. Your heart races. You’ve never felt so in charge and so in love. 

You’ve had moments in past relationships where you pleasured your partners of course, but nothing can compare to being with him. Such a new, thrilling experience to get to bring pleasure to someone you love so much, finding new ways to make him feel good. 

“What if I… used my mouth?” Your pulse spikes at the question, becoming bold. Suddenly he’s tense beneath you once again. You assume the images are running through his mind before he can even answer.

“I… uh, God… yes, please.” It’s the most human reply you could imagine him having, giggling triumphantly. It’s easy to admit how good it feels to be needed, and you feel even more powerful knowing your big, strong android becomes so weak at the thought of you simply sucking him off.

“Will you watch me?”

It doesn’t take much more convincing than that. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view just as you grip him tighter while leaning close. Your tongue flicks out first, testing the waters to gauge his reaction. His body tenses as a groan builds in his chest. He really enjoys it, you think, sending a surge of heat straight between your thighs. You don’t dare stop, meeting his eyes while you wrap your lips around him, so hard and needy and hot in your mouth, and his jaw slacks as you do so. Meanwhile, your fist around him pumps slowly, gently, allowing him to get used to the sensations, but you can tell from his creased brow and parted lips, as well as his eyes beginning to go haywire, he loves it.

It fills you with pride and your own sense of bliss. It makes you feel good to give him pleasure, beginning to lower your mouth onto his length while stroking his shaft. Simple groans turn into grunts that turn into him thrusting his hips toward you. Without you mentioning it, he reaches down to grip a fistful of your hair, causing you to whimper against his skin from the sensation. 

You focus on his face while sucking him off. He never tears his eyes away from you. Groans and moans fill the space between the two of you as he watches you go down on him. You can’t put him completely in your mouth, but your tongue massages everything that will fit past your lips. A tight fist around his length takes care of the rest, stroking him, milking him close to his own bliss. 

“Baby,” he groans, and the cute little pet name falling from a strained tongue sends your heart soaring. “I… I’m… overwhelmed.”

You immediately pull back. “You mean…” He’s going to “come”, of course, though you aren’t sure what that means for you. His tone would suggest his wishes for you to stop, leaving you confused considering that was the whole idea. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” he whispers, reaching to wrap fingers around your wrist and pull you closer with a gentle grasp. “I want to be inside of you.”

His words leave you breathless. You feel yourself ache with need all over again. 

“Here,” he says, then reaches for the hem of your nightgown. You help him with the rest by pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor, leaving you bare for him. His eyes scan your body. He’s seen you lots of times by now, but never in such a position. Never so close and intimate like the two of you are now. You feel warm under his gaze, but not embarrassed or shy. You feel his love as he looks at you, and when he pulls you closer to straddle his body, you feel his need, too. “You’re so beautiful.”

His words take you by surprise, but you feel the warmth swell in your cheeks. “You know what that means?” you ask, feeling silly a second later for doing so. “I mean, you know when something is beautiful?”

“I know when I look at you I don’t want to look at anything else,” he tells you honestly, making your heart flutter in your chest. “Isn’t that what you do with something beautiful?” 

Your face grows warmer as you lower yourself to his body. You press your soaked folds against his arousal, watching his eyes light up while his hands fall to your hips. Though they don’t stay there long, beginning to wander and touch every inch of skin he can reach. Large palms brush over your stomach, your ribs, reaching your breasts and cupping them gently in his hands. The sensation has you whimpering, and even more so when he caresses your hardened nipple with the pad of his thumb. 

You can hardly take it anymore, needing to feel him inside of you as you grip his length between your thighs. Aligning yourself against the tip, he brushes against your folds to make you whimper. Without hesitation, you begin to lower yourself onto him, easing him into your drenched heat while keeping your body relaxed. Your eyes flutter closed, pushing the head past your folds, coating his flesh with your juices from the pleasure he gave you earlier, moaning his name softly while sliding down his length.

His hands fall to your hips a moment later. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding you tight while a deep groan builds in his chest. He’s just as worked up as you and needs his own form of release. He makes it clear from the way his hips thrust into you from below ever so gently, pumping his cock deeper inside of you to make you gasp.

Then finally you’re completely wrapped around him, allowing him to fill you up while your mind grows hazy with lust. He enters you so deeply, hitting spots you weren’t even aware you had and it’s all suddenly too much too fast. You bite your lip to begin grinding yourself against him, listening to his beautiful cries of bliss while you ride him. His hands grip you even tighter, guiding your body to a pleasurable rhythm while his hips move beneath you, fucking himself into you.

“God…” All you can do is cry out, a mix of whimpers and moans, curses beneath your breath and calls of his name. He thrusts into you so deep it’s almost mind-numbing. Your body trembles on top of him. Unsteady hands fall to his stomach to support yourself, continuing to rock your hips back and forth, raising your body just a little only to sink down onto him again. 

The sounds of whimpers and moans, flesh pressing to flesh, his cock pumping into your wet heat fill the room all at once. It’s too overwhelming for the both of you. You feel the heat bubbling between your thighs and though your eyes are closed so you can’t see his expression, from the way he holds you to the way he thrusts beneath you and the noises he makes, you know he is feeling the same. 

Goosebumps form along heated flesh as you throw your head back, becoming lost in the pleasure of feeling him fill you up over and over. You press harder against him, rolling your hips so his cock hits the end of your channel. Over and over, just the way the two of you learned to love. 

“I… I’m…” He begins to stutter, and you know he’s getting close to reaching his own end. Slowly, your eyes open as you continue to ride him. You spot his face twisted in pure pleasure, his wrinkled brow, his jaw slacked, his head thrown back. His eyes remain closed but you can only imagine the wild array of hues flashing through them. 

So you push your pleasure aside for the moment to bring him closer. You focus on him, the noises he makes when you move a certain pace, the gasp he releases when you grind against him harder, faster. You keep the pace until he grips your hips so tight you wonder if it will leave a mark. It only adds to the bliss, however, loving the way he holds you tight while you ride his cock. 

“Come for me,” you tell him, leaning closer to press your body into his own. Your lips fall against his. He instinctively wraps his arms around your body. You don’t slow your pace, only moving your hips back and forth, easing yourself up and down his length. You whimper into the kiss from the sensation of him hitting deep into your walls over and over, and just when you aren’t sure if you can hold off any longer, he tenses beneath you.

A wave of overwhelming emotions wash over him as he comes undone. He begins to shake, but he never releases his hold on you. He grunts and groans, eyelids fluttering, nails even digging into your skin. You continue to ride him, trying to focus on his pleasure but the feeling of him being so overwhelmed against your own body brings you closer to the edge. Knowing the pleasure he is experiencing in his own way, knowing you’re the cause of it, has the warmth surging through you. 

A final gasp falls from your lips, feeling the heat spiraling uncontrollably from between your thighs. You quiver and shake, cry out that you’re coming, screwing your eyes shut and giving in to the bliss all over again. Your trembling body collapses against his own, growing too weak to hold yourself up as the pleasure rides through you. Wave after wave of pure ecstasy fills you from head to toe, making the room spin, leaving you breathless. 

And finally you’re coming down right along with him. He pulls out of you but he doesn’t let you go. He keeps you tight against his chest, holding you close, caressing your back and soothing the shaking in your limbs. He kisses your forehead and a sleepy smile forms on your lips. Everything is too perfect with him. You couldn’t imagine anything better, even if you tried. 

The two of you stay like that for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies. Enjoying being held and taken care of, just like he always has, and just like he always will because he’s perfect for you. He was made for you, and somewhere deep down inside of you, you believe you were made for him as well. After all, you are his purpose. 

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #marvel scenarios #stray kids scenarios

[d10nyx]

meant to be yours

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, unwilling cannibalism - reciever doesn't know! self-mutilation. obsessive, creepy, delusional reader. no real sex but masturbation n fantasies. very little smut and also a lil vomit.

a/n: idk why, but i... could not get this out of my head. been writing this the past few hours n it's now 1am... all i'm gonna say is read at your own discretion

word count: 1.9k words

There wasn't much good in your life. Not really. You'd never been one to talk much. No family, no friends. You spent most of your life working, dropping out of school, and saving money from a young age in order to pursue your one true passion - baking.

Opening up your own shop was hard. You went hungry most nights in order to skim a little cash from your dead-end job to be able to afford the down payment. But it worked. You had your own bakery, and business was booming.

For once in your life, you felt happy.

The day Leon came into the bakery for the first time changed everything. A festering desire found its way into your mind, an itch that wouldn't leave. He was your soul mate, you knew it. He was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. So pure and untouched.

He made your skin crawl. You needed to be closer to him, to corrupt him in a way that no one would ever come close to you. You needed to be his, mind, body and soul. His smile made you nauseous. How many others had received that same smile?

No. You had to have him in a way no one else could.

You started experimenting. Simple things, really. Your love for him was all consuming, and you're sure in time he'd come to understand how much you worshipped him. He'd be appreciative of all you'd done for him once he found out.

It made it all worth it as you carved into your flesh for the first time. Your teeth clamped down on an old leather belt of yours to stiffle your screams, a piece of fabric tied tight around your thigh to slow the bleeding as you cut chunks of your flesh out.

The pain almost made you pass out, but you wouldn't let your weakness get in the way of showing devotion to Leon. You swallowed your bile as it rose up your throat, blinked past the blurriness of your tears.

You did your best to treat the wounds efficiently after. YouTube can only teach you so much, and your hands wouldn't stop shaking, so you couldn't wrap the bandage as tight as you should have. But that was okay. You couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk someone stopping your plan.

You swallowed some painkillers and went to bed, content with the knowledge that tomorrow was Saturday. That meant Leon would be coming. You had something really special for him.

You wake up with a hop in your step the next morning despite the excruciating pain you were in. You down more painkillers and pop the pack in your pocket, although it does little to dull your pain.

You grind the carefully harvested flesh down. You had already made the dough which had expanded nicely. This would have to be your best work, after all. You carefully lay out the necessary ingredients, combining them before placing the filling neatly into the dough.

You gather up the edges of the disc you'd made, folding them over the seasoned flesh and tucking them in to form a nice ball. You smile at yourself, feeling like you deserved a pat on the back. Once the egg wash is on, you place them into the oven and glance at the clock.

Perfect timing.

You smile and set up the rest of the bakery for opening. Once the buns are cooked, you take them out and place them in the back. You greet all the customers as friendly as always despite the burning in your thigh and the obsession making itself known in the forefront of your brain.

The closer it gets to Leon's usual entrance time, the more antsy you get. You can't keep still, shifting your weight between your feet as it becomes increasingly more difficult not to snap at every customer that walks in. They were all wasting your time.

Your eyes flick over to the clock on your wall constantly. The quiet ticking makes your eyes twitch and keeps your nerves on edge. You want to rip the clock from the wall and-

“Hey.” Your head snaps to the door. A smile makes its way to your face as you relax. Finally. You lean on the counter, your gaze trailing Leon's face appreciatively.

“Leon. Hi.” You breathe out, all the tension seeping out of your muscles. He makes all the pain you endured worth it, just to see his smile. “The usual?”

He nods softly, and you get to work packing his order. He likes to treat himself to a slice of cake and a pastry at the end of the week. It's the cutest thing ever to you, and you always like to throw in an extra little snack. On the house, of course.

“Hey, I tried something new today. Saved some for my favourite customer. Want to try it?” The festering in your mind returns tenfold. You didn't know what you'd do if he didn't accept. Your mind was screaming at you, wanting nothing more than to see him eat your flesh. To become one with you.

Please. Your mind supplies, your breathing growing shallow as you wait for his reply. The seconds feel like they stretch into hours, your nails digging into your palms and leaving little crescent shaped marks in the flesh.

“Sure! What did you make?” He asks, sweet as ever. The air you suck in after that satisfies your whole body, like the first breath of air after you'd been drowning. Your lungs stop burning, your mind stops screaming.

“I'm trying out some more savoury stuff. Trying to broaden my horizons, you know?” You say with a chuckle, stepping back to retrieve the tray. “I made some pork buns. Saved them just for you. They're all yours, if you like them.”

He lets out a laugh himself, eyes examining the food in front of him. “You're too good to me. These look amazing.”

Take one. Please. Just one.

“Ah, it's nothing.” You say causally, your eyes locked on his hands as they reach out for one of the buns. Your heart beats faster, feeling like it's about to break free past the cage of your ribs. “You're an officer. Just giving back.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” He says with an amused smile, finally picking up one of them.

Yesyesyesyes. Just a little longer.

It takes every ounce of willpower in you not to make a noise as he takes a bite. It's even harder to keep a neutral expression as he chews it, his eyes widening slightly. He swallows the bite, looks at you and grins. You lean forward, watching with morbid curiosity as his Adam's apple bobs, picturing the chunks of your flesh sliding down his throat.

“Wow! These are, like… really good. You should definitely start selling them.” He compliments, taking another bite. You watch him finish up the bun with increasing interest, your eyes practically sparkling with joy and your pussy throbbing with need.

“That's, um…” Your words come out shaky, so you clear your throat and try again. “Thank you. That means a lot. I'm really glad you liked it.”

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed.

If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

“No, no. I think that's it.” He says with a head tilt, not looking unlike a puppy in that moment. You want to keep him in a little room, safe from the cruelty in the world. Maybe a cute little display case you dust off every day.

“Alright, no problem, then.” You say as you start to ring up his order, telling him the price and taking the money. “Let me just wrap these up, and you can be on your way.”

With practised ease, you quickly wrapped the ordered items in paper, making sure the wrapping is secure. Once done, you carefully place them into a brown paper bag, double checking everything was intact. Reaching out, you held it out towards Leon, a kind smile on your face as you tried to ignore the aggressive beating of your heart. Your hand shook slightly, yearning for contact. For just a tiny moment of skin on skin. "Here you go.”

“Thank you so much! I'll see you next week.” He tells you as he reaches for the bag, his fingers brushing yours lightly as he takes it, getting ready to leave the bakery.

"Have a wonderful day." You reply, your voice breaking slightly as you watch him walk away. Your eyes follow his form disappearing down the street until he was out of sight before you let out a ragged breath, collapsing against the counter. Today had been... too close. Too much contact. You needed to calm down.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your mind wanders for the rest of the day, thinking about how satisfying it would be when you were finally his. You'd get him to accept your gifts with open arms. How could he not love you when he'd realised how much you'd sacrificed for him?

You wanted him to dip his tongue in your wounds, to thank you properly for the pain you'd sustained for him. You'd worship every inch of his body, give everything you'd had to him.

Oh, how good it would feel when he sunk his cock into you for the first time. You'd be perfect for him, open up so easily for him. You'd take every inch without complaint, let him fuck you as often as he wanted.

Maybe he'd sink his teeth directly into your neck when he realised how much he craved your flesh. You'd make him crave another taste. The thought made you shiver, arousal pooling into the gusset of your panties, making the fabric stick to you.

You closed up early to return to your apartment. You find your bed instantly, flopping down and stripping within seconds. You shove two fingers deep into your cunt as you pictured Leon fucking you. The sloppy wet noises fill your room as your moans echo off the empty walls.

Your free hand shifts to the wound on your thigh, and you press down harshly. You scream in pain, nausea hitting you instantly at the agonising pain. It's enough to make you cum, your pussy gushing around your fingers. You lean over the edge of the bed, throwing up onto the hardwood floor. You'd deal with it later.

You curl up into a ball, breathing heavily through tears and mucus as the burning sensation worsens. You can barely breathe through the acrid scent assaulting your senses. It was all worth it. You'd tear every muscle fibre of your body apart to show your reverence to Leon. No one can love him like you can.

You wouldn't be content until he devoured you whole. Not until your souls became intertwined and you were sure you'd plague his thoughts like he had plagued yours. His teeth would sink deep into the flesh of your still beating heart, and only then would he understand the extent to which you adored him.

His innocent appearance meant nothing when he could ruin you so completely with one simple look. One touch. One smile.

He already had.

#dark content #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #seriously... don't read this!

[slut4sugu]

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐂𝐒 — MINA ASHIDO

❀ Including: agedup!characters, Mina x black!reader, use of names: mamas, pretty girl, ma, pretty girl, princess, slight suggestion towards the end, mentions of hellva boss, also since its cannon that mina is black im gonna write her as such (im keeping her pink skin tho its so pretty) So if thats a problem please keep scrolling! ❀ Genre: fluff/suggestiveness ❀ kams note: BRO I LOVE MINA SM IDK WHY I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR HER SOONER

Back to masterlist . ♬ : slumber party: ashnikko & bonetown: versokia mayday

[🌸] FIRST WEEKS DATING

Since you guys were close friends before you dated mina felt as though you were the perfect person for her to be with and she was the perffect person for you. She knew what you liked and what you didn’t. What turned you on and what creeped you out, but when it came to actually asking you out she felt a lump in her throat. You helped the pink girl calm down and told her to take her time and just say what she had to say, and once she did as such you were beyond shocked yet happy at her words.

“You like me ?” Your acrylic nail pointing to her than back to your chest, your eyes slightly wide at the news. “Yeah..I’m sorry you prolly don’t feel the same-“ You shushed her quickly by pouncing on her body the bed dipping under your weight slightly as you straddled her waist. Giggling as you shook your head. “Ash don’t be sorry, I like you too. I have since you said i was your quote ‘baby mama’.” She blushed at the confession, sitting up against her headboard hesitantly wondering if she should put her hands on your hips or not. (Despite the fact ya’ll have done gay shit before lol.) “Soo does that mean you wanna date me?” She asked, her eyes looking into your pretty brown ones. “Yesss, of course i wanna date you ash- actually i wanna be your baby mama.” You said teasingly with a slight smirk, causing Mina to loose her once shy demeanor and resort back to her regular self. “Then kiss me, pretty girl.”

You both became inseparable. Never leaving each others sides all day, and going as far to work on combination moves with your quirk (you can imagine that for yourself but if you can’t think of nothing uhh your a winx fairy ion know😭).

Even though mina spends most of her time with you and knows how comfortable you are with her, almost everytime she wants to kiss you she always asks. You say she doesn’t have to but she says that ‘I wanna make sure you wanna kiss me as much i wanna kiss you.’ (And she likes hearing you whine when she takes to long to kiss you back <3)

Loves coming over late at night to sleep in your comfy bed, explaining that she can’t sleep without having her hand on your boob. When you both know that she likes cuddling with you more than anything. Though you also know that you can’t fall asleep without her small soft hand squeezing your soft mound.

On the nights she really really misses you, she does her skin care routine at your place and hangs out with you as much as she can before going back on patrol. Promising to be in bed by your side by the time you wake up.

Always pays for your nails & hair appointments, her hero work pays well and she knows yours do too but she loves the sight of her hard money well spent on pretty hello kitty nails.

[🌸] FIRST COUPLE MONTHS

After a few months of dating you she’ll stop asking you for kisses and just give you surprise ones instead, its so cute how she’ll announce her presence with a giggle before attacking you with kisses. She’ll usually tickle you too just to get your attention for the time being, Mina loves having you all to herself and eating up your precious time when you should be doing something else.

Will gladly braid your hair for you! She’s such a sweetheart too, if you start to get tired she’ll let you lean on the inner side of her thigh and doze off while she finishes up for you. Trust n believe she’s taking dozens of pictures of your sleeping face without your knowledge <33

Definitely has gotten matching braids with you before with little beads at the end, its so pretty how the colors compliment her pretty skin. And you of course go out of your way to tell your pretty girlfriend how hot she looks with her knotless braids <33

Starts to leave her clothes over at your place just to have an excuse to come over and stay the night. And well..she loves seeing you in just underwear and her shirts. She thinks it’s the cutest and hottest thing ever <3

If you have a car/ or ride in hers she insists on driving, saying that your her pretty passenger princess and deserves to just chill and play whatever song you want

Buys matching bonnets with you once she starts to realize just exactly how important you are to her <3

Definitely watches hellva boss and LOVES versokia mayday & queen bee. Mina cosplayed for her on your birthday and lets just say yall had fun with the outfit afterwards <33

Listens to: Odetari, niki minaj, ice spice, Beyoncé, ashnikko, Lizzo, flo Milli, Megan the stallion, Marina, and ofc Summer walker

[🌸] 4+ MONTHS

Starts thinking about marrying you fr

Atp everything is natural with you, ass grabs, neck kisses that end up with hickeys on your neck visible for everyone to see. Speaking of that, Mina’s always liked showing you off even if it was slightly inappropriate when she did. Kissing you in front of others, making out with you in clubs, grinding her ass on you, etc. It doesn’t matter to Mina, she just loves showing her girl off.

Taking showers together becomes a daily thing, wash days are especially fun when Mina’s tired from hero work. Her sweet little girlfriend washes her pink hair for her, her bones turning into mush when you massage your fingers into her scalp.

Makeout sessions every day <3

Loves teasing you by calling you names, the way your eyes dart to the corner of the room just motivates Mina even more. Your facial expressions drive her up the wall, she loves how dominant you can be only to turn around and be submissive when she calls you dirty girl or doll.

You had just finished making your shared bed when you heard your girlfriend ask “Are you wearing those black panties i bought you a week ago?” Glancing over your shoulder to see Mina, who’s eyes were stuck on the visible panties that could be seen slightly below your pink bratz shirt. You hummed in response, “They are comfy as hell and I didn’t feel like putting on shorts so-“ You squeaked as you felt a hand on your lower back suddenly push you onto the bed, your arms being folded behind your back as a hand held them tightly. The other going under your shirt from behind, moving it up to fully reveal the scandalous underwear that hugged your ass. “All of this for me doll? Damn you must want something taunting me like this.” Mina’s voice sent a warmth to your core, her touch not helping as you felt her free hand drift back down to your waist and to your ass giving it a squeeze. A small sigh of pleasure escaping from your lips as you felt a heat begin to throb in between your legs with need. Leaning down against you, Mina’s boobs pressed agaisnt your back. Her breath on the shell of your ear which sent chills down your spine. “Do you want something ma? Hmm?” Her voice like silk as her hand went back to your waist, pulling you by the waist and grinding against you. “Answer me honey, you know I like hearing you say what you want.”

#🌸. 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌 #mha #mina ashido #mina ashido x reader #Mina ashido x black!fem reader #mha x reader #mha x poc!reader #mha x female reader #mha x black female reader #Mha x fem!reader #mina x y/n #mina x you #mina x reader #Mina ashido imagine #Mina ashido smut #Mina ashido lesbian #mha x black reader smut #mha x you #mha imagines

[justagalwhowrites]

HI BESTIE !!! 🫂

i was wondering how Joel would react to Doc spoiling him ROTTEN after she got that big girl money 🫦 (in the lavender au)

(because i know she will spoil him so much as a thank you for his unwavering support throughout her career 🥹)

OMG Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so so SO much. Joel is so soft with his girls and he deserves all the good things, including his wife treating him to all the best things once she's a big time surgeon.

This is just the perfect prompt for our favorite man's birthday, too! I hope this is just what you were hoping for. Love you!

Spoiled

After years of Joel taking care of you, you take care of Joel. A one shot set in the Lavender AU timeline.

Yes I know it's not a Joel gif but it fits the fic so well I had to.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Joel and Doc from the Lavender AU)

Warnings: Fluff and smut, smut and fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4.4K

It started with a shopping trip in Houston for Sarah’s wedding. 

She needed a dress for the rehearsal and her bachelorette party and the malls in Austin just weren’t cutting it. 

“I’m telling you,” she said after coming up empty handed on another Saturday spent shopping as the two of you ate salads and drank sweet tea at a patio cafe. “We need to go to Houston. We haven’t found anything for you, either.”

“I can just…” you began, but Sarah cut you off. 

“Mom,” she raised her brows. “You do not get to say ‘just’ anything about my wedding, come on.” 

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled. 

“Alright,” you put your hands up in surrender. “I’ve got the weekend off again in two weeks, I’ll get us a hotel room in Houston and we can shop til we drop.” 

“I’m going to get you comfortable with spending some of those big surgeon bucks one of these days,” she said. “You need to treat yourself! Live a little!” 

“I live plenty, thank you,” you replied. “And I do it just fine in my Goodwill jeans.” 

“Whatever you say,” she smirked a little, flagging down the server and grabbing the bill before you had a chance to fight her on it. 

Sarah might have had a point. You’d been an attending for the better part of a year now and the jump in pay had been staggering. You were making more now in a year than you had your entire life - or it felt that way, anyway. You’d already made good progress paying off your student loans but you made quick work of the rest. Joel had asked if you wanted to move - something bigger or better somehow - now that you could easily afford it but you’d just frowned at him, almost hurt. 

“This is our home,” you said. “I fell in love with you here, Sarah grew up here, we made Evie here. This is the first place I ever really felt like I belonged, I don’t want to leave.” 

Joel just smiled and kissed your forehead. 

“Then we’ll stay,” he said. “Moving’s a fuckin’ hassle anyway.” 

You’d just been saving money, not really sure what to do with it. You donated some of it, stopped spending time clipping coupons, finally bought a car that was from this decade (but still used). But actually spending it made you anxious. You’d never had money before. You weren’t poor, exactly. You’d always had enough to eat and a roof over your head but you almost never bought new clothes, had never really traveled outside of places that you could easily get to by car. You were pretty sure you’d never even been in a car that wasn’t at least 10 years old before you came to college and your friend Cassie gave you a ride to the store in her new BMW. It was hard to get used to the idea that money could be spent at all, that it wasn’t already earmarked for some bill or, if there was any left, that it had to be saved for a rainy day. 

“You gotta actually spend some of that hard earned money on yourself, Baby,” Joel said as you headed outside to meet Sarah for your weekend in Houston. “Buy some ridiculously expensive dress that I’m gonna want to rip off you in seconds or some purse that’s $1,000 for reasons I don’t understand.” 

“That’s two mortgage payments,” you said, eyes wide. 

“Baby.” 

“Right, right,” you nodded. “On a mission, spend money. Got it.” 

“On yourself,” he added. “Not Sarah. Or not just Sarah, anyway. You two have fun.” 

“You too,” you said, stretching up to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t let Evie con you into giving her candy when she gets home from school.” 

“What wild thing and I get up to when you’re not around is none of your business,” he gave you one last peck on the lips. “Now go, stop worryin’, live a little.” 

The mall in Houston was almost overwhelming. Not in the crowds way malls sometimes were for you, thank goodness, but with the kinds of stores. There were names you recognized from Cassie’s closet and from some of the trust fund girls in your med school program but you realized quickly you had no concept of what things like this actually cost. 

Sarah picked a dress for the rehearsal that was nearly $600 and you choked on the champagne the sales person had given you to sip while Sarah tried on options. 

“You really buy $600 dresses?” You gaped at her as you wandered back into the store from the dressing rooms. 

“Not all the time,” she shrugged. “But we make good money and sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice.” 

She held up a floor length gown to you, the bottom pooling on the ground. 

“That’s too long,” you said. 

“Well we’d get it tailored,” she laughed a little. “Come on, try it on.” 

Another sales person wandered over and offered to set up a fitting room and you snuck a peek at the price tag. Your eyes went wide. 

“That dress is $1200!” You whispered at Sarah as you trailed after the attendant. 

“And it’s for my wedding,” she replied. “And don’t you have that gala thing every spring for work? You can wear it for that, you need a new dress for that anyway. Plus I’m the bride and I say you have to try it on. You can’t disappoint the bride.” 

You sighed and went into the fitting room, feeling utterly out of place in your second hand Levis and vintage top you’d picked up on a shopping trip a few weeks back that felt much more your speed. 

But the dress - outside of the length - looked like it had been made for you. The silk hugged your every curve, the neckline dipping just low enough to display just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it would be scandalous. It was simple, no embellishments beyond the structure of the dress and the deep emerald green of the fabric. Normally you’d have scoffed at something so basic fetching such a high price but, now that it was on your body, you understood it. It was like you’d put on a work of art and, in doing so, become art yourself. 

“OK you can’t laugh,” you said. “But I’m coming out.” 

Sarah was waiting patiently in the little show room attached to your fitting room and you had to hold up the hem of the dress to not trip but she gasped all the same. 

“Oh Mom,” her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “You look incredible.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, turning in the mirrors to look at yourself from every angle. “I don’t look like I’m playing dress up?” 

“Not at all,” she spoke with almost a sense of reverence, looking you up and down. “You’re getting that dress. I’ll buy it for you if you won’t…” 

“No, Sarah,” you protested but she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before you had a chance to really realize what she was doing. “What was that for?” 

“I’m sending this to Dad…” her voice trailed off and she took a sip of champagne just as her phone rang. She smirked and answered, putting it on speaker phone. “Speak of the devil. Hey old man, your wife is trying to tell me this dress costs too much.” 

“I don’t care if that dress costs $200,000 she’s bringing it home,” Joel said. “She hear me?” 

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, a shit eating grin if there ever was one. 

“Good,” he said. “Baby, you look so damn amazing I’m about to jump in the truck and drive over there just to see you in that thing in person sooner. Save me a trip, bring it home, alright?” 

“Alright,” you sighed. 

“Didn’t quite hear that,” Joel said. 

“I said alright you dork,” you said a little, grinning in spite of yourself. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You bought the dress. And a bag that Sarah insisted you needed for work because she was tired of seeing you haul around a canvas tote. And shoes for the dress. 

When you passed the jeweler window, you were on the way to the car after spending so much money you were surprised you hadn’t fainted. You stopped, the hanger with the garment bag for the dress hooked in your fingers over your shoulder, and looked at the watch sitting in the window. 

It was large and silver but not too ornate, no diamonds or anything like that. The face of the watch was black with elegant white roman numerals on the face. 

“What?” Sarah asked, stopping next to you. 

“Do you think your dad would like that?” You asked, head cocked a little, still looking at the timepiece through the glass. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said after a moment. “Seems like a him watch, if he were going to wear a nice watch, anyway.” 

Joel did already have a watch. A simple one with a green strap and silver colored case and a black face. You and Sarah had picked it out together for his birthday one year. She’d been giddy about it, you had to all but beg her to keep it a secret for a few days until it came time to give it to him. He loved the thing, wore it every day, even more than a decade later. 

But your career wasn’t the only one that had advanced. Joel was no longer doing the manual labor of a contractor every day. More often than not, he was going to meet with clients and arrange contracts and make plans. For a lot of those meetings, he wore a suit and, for a lot of those meetings, you saw him stick his watch in his pocket before leaving the house instead of putting it on. 

“Hard sometimes,” he said when you’d asked him about it. “Fittin’ in with these clients.” 

“Let me just…” you doubled back to the entrance to the store and went inside. 

The watch was more than you thought it would be. A lot more. So, so much more. You watched as the sale’s person’s eyes went from encouraging and hopeful to let down when you reacted to the price. 

“One second,” you smiled sheepishly and pulled out your phone, going into your banking app. Even after spending an arm and a leg on yourself that day, the number in your personal checking account seemed obscenely high. More money than you’d ever had at once until very, very recently. You could afford the watch. You looked at the sales person and smiled. 

“I’ll take it.” 

You had several very strong cocktails when out to dinner with Sarah that night to make yourself feel a little better about spending thousands of dollars on things like clothes and a watch and she just smiled. 

“See, Mom? You spent some money on yourself and the apocalypse did not happen, I think you can actually buy yourself things from time to time.” 

“And things for your dad,” you said. “Because he needs nice things, too.” 

When you got home, Joel insisted that you model the dress for him. 

“It needs to be tailored,” you tried to protest. 

“Not for me to take it off you it doesn’t,” he smiled from his spot on the couch, beer in hand. 

“Fine,” you said. “But only if you let me model everything I bought and you can’t return any of it.” 

“Deal.” 

You went to your bedroom and put on the dress and the shoes and took the watch out of the bag, the face almost comically large on your wrist, before going back to the living room, hem of the dress in hand. 

“Jesus Christ Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes wide. “You look… fuck me.” 

“That is the idea,” you winked. “You like it?” 

“Like is a fuckin’ understatement,” he said, getting up and walking around you slowly, his eyes going up and down your body. “You know, Evie’s at a friend’s for two more hours…” 

“So you’re not going to make me return anything I have on?” You asked. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Not this dress?” You started unzipping the side before sliding the straps down your arms. 

“Dress stays,” he said, gently tugging it down and exposing your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts. 

“What about the shoes?” You asked, putting a sandaled foot out from below the hem. He glanced down, eyes ranging over the straps. 

“Those stay, too,” he said, going back to kissing your chest. “Everything you’ve got on stays, already agreed to that.” 

“Good,” you said as he made it to your neck. “Even this?” 

You held up your wrist, the watch sliding down your arm. 

He frowned, looking at it. 

“Don’t look like you’re style,” he said. “But if it makes you happy, Baby, keep it.” 

“Never said it was for me, Joel,” you smiled a little. You watched him piece it together, taking a moment for him to dawn on him. 

“No,” he shook his head, looking from your arm to your face. “No, you were supposed to get stuff for yourself for a change not…” 

“I did get stuff for me,” you said. “And I got this for you. Because you’re wearing suits more now and I wanted you to have the watch for that. So really, it is for me.” 

He took your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, tilting your arm this way and that to look at the watch in different lights. 

“Baby, this…” he shook his head again. “This is too much, this is…” 

“Not for you,” you cut him off. “Not after everything you’ve given me. This is not enough. But it’s a start. Besides, you said I got to keep everything I was wearing. You already agreed to it, Miller.” 

“Baby,” he sighed. 

“Joel,” you smiled a little. “You’re my husband. Let me give you something nice. Please.” 

He brought the inside of your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, making your pulse flutter against his mouth. 

“Already gave me the best thing there is,” he said. “Anything more feels like I’m stealin’ it.” 

“Steal whatever you want, Miller,” you teased. “But you’re keeping the watch.” 

Joel ended up wearing the watch often. Not as much as the Sarah watch - and he stuck with the Sarah watch for her wedding - but at least once a week for meetings where he needed to dress up for. Every time you gave him a little knowing smile and every time he rolled his eyes a little before kissing you goodbye. But you had yet to get him to accept anything like it in the years since, Joel trying to dodge everything every time you spent money on him. 

So when his birthday was around the corner, you were bound and determined to get him something good. 

“Anything you want for your birthday?” You asked as you, Joel and Ellie wandered around a street fair, meandering towards the car show. “Anything you want to do?” 

“S’not like it’s a big one,” he shrugged. “Just 56. Would love to see all my girls, of course. Could use some new tongs for the grill.” 

“Tongs?” Ellie said, brows raised. “Seriously? Old people are so WEIRD.” 

“You know what kiddo?” Joel smiled a little, faking exasperation. “We’ll see how you’re doin’ when you’re pushin’ 60.” 

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and wandered to the first car in the row of vehicles on display. You laughed, strolling along with Joel until he stopped at a beautiful old convertible, giving a low whistle. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Just a pretty fuckin’ car,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly around it. “Always wanted one of these when I was a kid.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, getting an idea. 

“Neighbor had one,” he nodded. “Let me ride in the back once. Coolest fuckin’ car.” 

He looked over every inch of the thing and Ellie caught up with you while he did, pouting a little as she leaned on the door of the car, her chin propped on her folded arms. 

“I’m starving,” she groaned. “Can I go get some fries at least?” 

“Sure,” you laughed a little, pulling some cash out of your pocket. “Grab me a lemonade, too?” 

You watched as she went to the food stands and you and Joel moved on, walking slowly down the row of cars when Ellie caught up with you again, passing you the lemonade. Joel stole a fry from her cup. 

“Hey!” She protested. “Go get your own!” 

“Might have to,” he said, giving her a wink. “Back in a sec.” 

You waited until he was out of earshot before you grabbed Ellie. 

“Do me a favor,” you said. “That car we were looking at? The blue one? Can you go talk to the owner and find out what make, model and year it is?” 

“I guess,” she frowned. “Why?” 

“Because,” you said. “I found something your dad wants besides tongs.” 

You went and stood in line with Joel, keeping him distracted while Ellie did recon. She took some pictures of the car and texted you all the information which you texted to Andrew as Joel drove home from the fair. 

“Can you help me find this car?” You asked him. “One that’s for sale?”

“Becoming a collector?” He texted back. 

“Joel’s birthday,” you added a smilie face emoji. 

“Excellent,” he replied. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry.” 

It took a few weeks but Andrew found the car. A blue 1967 Mustang Convertible that was being sold down in San Antonio. He went down with you to help you test drive it - you didn’t know a damn thing about cars - and you bought it on the spot. 

“He’s going to freak the fuck out,” Andrew said, driving it home since you couldn’t drive stick. “Seriously, you might give the man a heart attack…” 

You rolled your eyes but laughed all the same. 

“I really hope he loves it,” you said, running your fingers over the dash. 

“I’ll take it off your hands if he doesn’t,” Andrew smiled. “Just don’t tell Jess.” 

Tommy agreed to store the car in his garage until Joel’s party at his house in two weeks and you were giddy as you drove home, feeling like a kid at Christmas as you tried to keep the car a secret. 

By the time the party rolled around, even Ellie was excited and having a hard time holding it together. 

“It’s really just a cookout at Tommy’s,” Joel said as the three of you piled in the car to head over. “Not sure why you two are actin’ like we’re going to fuckin’ Six Flags…” 

“Tommy’s cooler than you,” Ellie said. “Nice to spend time with someone who isn’t a total dinosaur…” 

“Alright, in the car kiddo,” Joel smiled and shook his head a little. “Can’t take you anywhere ’til seatbelts are on, let’s go!” 

You texted Tommy that you were on the way and he responded with a picture of the car, shiny in his driveway with a big, red bow on the hood. 

“He’s going to lose his mind, Kid,” he texted back. “Please tell Maria I want this same treatment when I’m old.” 

“Better put in some work to deserve it, Miller,” you replied, smiling a little. 

Joel parked on the street, frowning at the car in Tommy’s driveway. 

“When the hell’d Tommy get a Mustang?” He got out, his frown deepening. You almost laughed. 

“He didn’t,” you smiled, so big it was like your face was going to crack. 

Joel looked confused for half a moment before his mouth dropped open in shock. 

“No,” he shook his head. Ellie leaned between the front seats, grinning hugely, “No, no that’s… Baby. No.” 

“Suck it up, old man,” Ellie smirked as Sarah and Brandon came out of the house, little Carson making a beeline for the car. Sarah and Brandon waved as Tommy and Maria joined them in the yard. Ellie pulled the keys out of her pocket and dangled them between you and Joel. He took them, staring at them in his hand for a second.

“Should take it before I do,” Tommy hollered and you laughed as you got out of the car and followed an almost dazed Joel toward the Mustang. 

He walked, in awe, around the car twice. 

“I…” he said but stopped, staring at the convertible for a moment. “I don’t….” 

“Do you like it?” You asked, coming up beside him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Fuckin’ love it,” he said, immediately looking at you. “But Baby, this is too much, way too much, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you smiled up at him. He looked down at you, the awed expression still on his face. “After everything you’ve done for me? For us? Everything you’ve sacrificed, all the ways you take care of me and our girls? The life you gave me? Still not enough, Joel. Not for you.” 

He pulled you tight to him and kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you,” he said, his voice wet. “So goddamn much, Baby.” 

Tommy set up chairs and a table in the front yard so everyone could sit near the car while celebrating Joel. He kept looking over at it in disbelief before looking at you with eyes filled with gratitude and wonder. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart felt quite so full. 

You drove Ellie home, following slowly behind Joel in the new convertible. 

“OK I know what this shit means,” Ellie said, gesturing between you and Joel after you got home, your husband clutching you to his side. “Try to keep it down and not be gross about it because ugh.” 

“Was actually going to see if you wanted to take the car for a spin,” you smiled up at Joel. “Just you and me. Assuming Ellie will behave herself and actually go to bed at a reasonable time.” 

“Anything to get away from whatever that is,” Ellie said, smiling a little as she went to her room. You laughed. 

“So,” you said, once she closed the door to her room. You looked up at Joel, smiling. “Care to take me for a ride, Mr. Miller?” 

He grinned.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Miller.” 

He took you through town slowly, down quiet side streets filled with sleeping people and past businesses that had closed for the night, until the two of you ended up at a large park on the edge of town where things were a little darker and you could see some of the stars. 

“I can’t believe you got me a car, Baby,” he said, his hands running over the steering wheel. His smile was so big you could see it even in the dim light of the moon. “It’s really…” 

“If you say it’s too much again, Joel, I will go and buy you a second one on principle.” 

He laughed at that. 

“I was gonna say it was the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said, turning to look at you. “Besides you and the girls of course.” 

“Oh, of course,” you smiled. 

He leaned in and kissed you gently. 

“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I sure am grateful for it.” 

Your kiss shifted and you started climbing over the center console, Joel taking a second to move his seat all the way back. You bunched your skirt around your hips and settled over him, kissing him harder, more eager. 

“I’m pretty damn grateful for you,” you whispered against his mouth, his hands going to your hips. You ground down on him and he moaned, pressing his hard length up against you through his jeans. “And I think the birthday boy should get laid in his dream car.” 

“Dream car,” he said, kissing you. “Dream woman.” He kissed you again. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday.” 

You unzipped his fly as you kissed him and tucked your panties to the side, notching his cock against your entrance. He moaned as you sank slowly down onto him, taking all of him inside of you, savoring how he filled you. 

You started slowly, just grinding him deeper into you as you kissed him, his tongue licking into your mouth. 

“You feel fuckin’ amazing Baby,” he moaned, kissing down your throat until he reached your breasts, cleavage bared in your v-neck top. “Always feel so damn good…” 

He was thrusting up into you, trying to set his own pace, and you decided to allow that, matching him stroke for stroke as he groaned below you. His hands ranged up your back, pawing at your shirt until be was able to raise it enough to slide below it and get at your skin with a satisfied moan. He clutched you close, so close that you could hardly move over him anymore. Instead, he fucked up into you, making you whimper and your channel tighten around him. 

“C’mon Baby,” he grunted, voice strained. “Want you to come for me. All I want now is you to come for me, come all over me, fuck Baby…” 

You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas on the air as you came, your sex throbbed around him. You whimpered against him as you came down from your high and he kept working you, his grip on you tightening. 

“Fuck Baby,” he gasped. “Feel too good, I’m gonna… fuck… I’m…” 

He cut himself off with a groan, thrusting deep and filling you, his grip on you relaxing enough that you could sit up a little. You looked at him in the moonlight his eyes closed, a blissed out look on his face. You smiled a little, brushing his more unruly curls back from his forehead. 

“I love you so much, Baby,” he smiled a little, eyes still closed. 

“So I did alright for your birthday?” You teased lightly, his softening cock still buried inside you. 

He laughed. 

“Did perfect,” he tugged you close enough that he could kiss you again, careful to not push you back against the horn. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday, perfect fuckin’ woman, perfect fuckin’ wife.” 

“Good,” you smiled, kissing him. “You deserve it, Joel. You deserve the world.” 

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

There's Beauty in Tragedy: Part Three

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: JJ feels insecure with the amount of money she has compared to you and hates she can't give you what you can give her. So, she decides to show you a bit of her world by taking you on a date.

Part One Part Two

Square Filled: "your laugh is adorable" for @goodthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

JJ walks into work on Monday morning with a slight smile on her face. She had just spent the weekend with you in Milan. You whisked her away for a romantic but expensive weekend in one of the places she’s always wanted to visit. You spoiled her with whatever she wanted, even showered her with gifts she couldn’t possibly accept under normal circumstances. You have all this money you want to spend on someone, and now you do.

She just feels so bad because she doesn’t make nearly as much as you do, so she can’t give you the same treatment. She’s brought up the money concerns even though you’ve dismissed them. You truly don’t care if she has money to spend on you or not. You do, and you love spending money on those you love.

It’s just hard on her because you’re giving her so much luxury and she can’t do the same for you.

Emily and Penelope are in the break room talking about their weekends when they notice JJ walk past them. Yes, she has a smile on her face but it’s not reaching her ears. They know she spent the weekend with you, so they’re not sure why she doesn’t look truly happy. Without a word, both of them follow her to her office.

“Hey, are you okay?” Emily asks.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“Babe, we can sense something isn’t right. Did something happen between you and Y/N?”

“No, the weekend was perfect, actually,” JJ sighs and sits down.

“Then, what’s bothering you?”

“We all know how much money she has. She’s given me so much, and she spoils me even if I tell her not to spend money on me. I mean, she has it. She might as well spend it on everything she can. I don’t make as much money as her, and I don’t want it coming across as me taking advantage of her.”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” JJ blushes. “It could be if given some more time. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months.”

“If Y/N likes you for you, then money shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Yeah,” JJ nods.

“She’s been taking you on all these expensive dates, right?” Penelope asks. “Why don’t you take her on a date? Maybe it’s more mellow and more your style. Show her that you two can still have fun without all that luxury.”

“The Redskins are playing in the Superbowl. I’ve always wanted to go to the game. Maybe I can bring her.”

“Yeah! Like I said, if she likes you for you, she’ll love going to the game. We gotta go but let us know how it goes.”

Once Emily and Penelope are gone, JJ takes out her phone to call you. She has a lot of work to do today but will do it after she’s talked to you.

“Hey, I was just thinking of you,” you answer with a grin. “We spent a whole weekend together and I already miss you.”

“Yeah, I kind of wish we were back on the beach.”

“We could think weekend if you want. I hear Bora Bora has beaches to die for at this time of year.”

“Maybe we can do that, sure. I called because I wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date this weekend with me. The Superbowl is this weekend, and I’ve always wanted to go. I think it could be fun.”

JJ bites her lower lip nervously as she waits for your answer.

“I think that sounds amazing. What time?”

“Two-thirty on Friday. I can pick you up this time.”

“I look forward to it. I have to go now. Have fun at work.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” JJ smiles and hangs up.

If you’re going to go to a football game, then you need to dress the part. All you’ve ever worn are fancy and elegant clothes because you’re expected to dress a certain way. Being a CEO comes with downfalls, so you have to go to the store to buy more casual clothing for the football game. You don’t think you can get away with wearing heels, a fancy dress, and a designer-brand bag at a football game.

Once you got a whole wardrobe full of a new style of clothing, you got dressed in jeans, converse sneakers, and a red and gold shirt to represent the Redskins’ colors. You’ve been looking forward to this date all week because you want to get to know JJ in an environment that’s more her style. Sure, you can take her all around the world and shower her with gifts and luxury, but she won’t fully be herself unless she is in her world.

Two hours before the game starts, JJ shows up at your house to pick you up. Where you have town cars and expensive cars, she has her SUV which is a bit older than the newer models that are on the lot. You get into the car and greet JJ with a loving kiss.

“Hi. I’ve been thinking of you all week. I’m really excited about this game.”

“Have you ever been to a football game?” she asks and starts to drive off.

“Never, but I’m glad my first is with you.”

You know nothing about sports. The only reason you’re going is for JJ because this is what makes her happy. You want nothing more than to see her happy, and you’ll do anything to keep that smile on her face. Once you get there, you quickly find your seats which are in the lower bowl of the stadium.

The frigid February weather bites at your skin but you welcome the cold. It gives you a chance to snuggle close to JJ.

“So, who’s playing?”

“Redksins vs Green Bay. I’ve been a major Redskins fan since I was little. My dad and I would try to make it every game they did.”

“That sounds awesome.”

“Yeah, it was. I haven’t been to a game in a long time, so I’m really happy we’re doing this together.”

You reach over and grab her hand, intertwining your fingers together.

“Me too. Thank you for inviting me.”

“I know this isn’t luxury or expensive dinners, but--”

“No, this is amazing. I’m really glad I’m here with you. As long as you’re happy and we’re together, I don’t care what we do,” you kiss the back of her hand.

There’s that beautiful blush on JJ. The color compliments her skin. As soon as the game starts, something changes in JJ. She becomes more animated as she cheers for her team when they score and growls in frustration when they lose. You’re not sure when you cheer, so you follow her lead. One of the members of her team runs toward the endzone when someone from the opposite team tackles him to the ground.

Someone a few rows down from you stands up and yells at how stupid that play was, and JJ is caught off guard by the outburst. She covers her mouth and giggles but you hear it.

“Your laugh is adorable,” you smile at her.

“You are adorable,” she smiles. “I hope you’re not too bored.”

You let go of her hand to wrap an arm around her back. You rub her shoulder sensually and cock your head to the left.

“I am happy wherever you are. I’m starving.”

“They have food up top.”

“You mean I get to try stadium hot dogs and beer? Sign me up,” you chuckle. “Do you want one?”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You two head to the concession stands where you get two beers and four hotdogs. This is so much different than the elegant restaurants you’re so used to going to, but you love the change of scenery. This is something you’ll have to get used to if you want to continue dating JJ. You can’t expect her to adapt to your lifestyle. That's not how a relationship works.

During a small break, you look over at JJ to see some mustard on the corner of her mouth. You reach other and wipe it with your thumb only to put that same thumb into your mouth to lick off the condiment.

“You got something there.”

“Is it all gone?” she asks after she swallows.

“No. Here, let me.” You grab her chin with your index finger and thumb and pull her into you. You kiss her without caring who is watching you two. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Whatever thoughts and worries she had about you and your money are gone because she really likes you and hopes this lasts for a long time.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she grins.

x

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#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau fic #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jareau fanfic #jennifer jareau fluff #jennifer jareau fan fic #jennifer jareau fan fiction #jennifer jareau fiction #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fic #cm fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fiction #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm #cm fiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

[hamsterclaw]

I want to say that ‘The Vows’ couple are my favourite. I keep reading it again and again. There is nothing better than this. I love them so much. Whenever I see any part of it on my dashboard I read it again along with some other parts. I just love it so much. The reader’s character of being bratty, misunderstood, and not evil is so perfectly balanced. And Yoongi accepts her not just tolerates her, this is my fav part of this fic. He is so much in love with her. And even though she makes him really mad he still loves her the same.

OH MY!!! 😭Thank you so much, this analysis is spot on and exactly why I love writing them and I am so so happy that you're enjoying them.

Here’s another little drabble for you because Min Yoongi has been wrecking me today.

Pairing: Vows! Yoongi x reader

Warnings: Sex, swearing, Seokjin

By now, you're pretty good at recognising when your husband is genuinely angry. He's often difficult to read, but you've been making an effort lately, and you're starting to recognise his tells.

When his mouth is in a straight line and his brow's slightly furrowed, he's bemused. It's the expression he had when you hid all his left shoes.

When his brows are drawn together and his mouth opens slightly, he's irritated. He gets like this sometimes when you and Seokjin are arguing.

When his expression goes completely blank, you look at his hands. When his hands are like they are now, loosely clenched, and he looks at you with heat in his gaze, he's angry. It doesn't happen often, but you're quite sure, that on this occasion, Yoongi is angry.

Scratch that. He looks pretty fucking mad.

You think frantically about all the things you've done lately, trying to remember if you've done anything especially provoking.

He’s looking straight at you across the room, and you can feel his eyes burning into you.

What have you done this time?

Your husband's still staring at you, and if he didn't look so damn irresistible in the sharp black suit he's wearing, you'd already be running.

His gaze flicks down over your body, blatantly looking you over in a way that's unusual for him.

Ahhhh fuck.

You stole his suit.

The last time Yoongi and you had to attend a public event together, you went all out. You'd picked up a vintage gown, had it altered to fit you like a second skin, had spent hours being primped and preened just so you could turn up on his arm looking like the most perfect version of you money could buy.

Yoongi had barely blinked. In fact, he'd grumbled something about you making him late to the event.

And so today, when you'd walked past the suit laid out for him in his wardrobe area on the way to the shower, an idea of immense brilliance had flashed into your mind.

You'd reached out, plucked the hanger off the rack, and marched to your room with it clutched in your hand.

You'd sent him some excuse about working late and had told him you'd meet him at the hotel, and then you'd put on his suit.

Crisp white shirt, a jacket with a subtle pinstripe, and a black tie that you'd had to ask Mrs Gye to help you tie. You'd forgone the suit trousers entirely, and the jacket on you is long enough to cover your ass.

Just about.

The piece de resistance though? The platinum collar bar connecting both ends of the collar, tucked under your tie.

You're not entirely sure how you're going to get it off without help, especially since the look on Yoongi's face makes it seem like he's unlikely to want to help you right now.

You like the suit he has on though, now that you can see it more clearly. It's almost identical to the one you have on.

Trust your husband to have a backup suit on standby.

He even has a collar bar like yours, and damn he looks so sexy you want to jump his bones.

Belatedly, you realise the reason you can see all the detail on his suit is that he's much closer than he was when you last checked.

Shit. He's heading straight towards you, face like thunder.

You squeak and back away, straight into the hard chest of Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin sighs wearily.

'At least tell me what panties you're wearing so I have something to jerk off to later,' he says.

'I'll give them to you if you help me get away,' you say quickly, seeing an opportunity.

'You're not going anywhere,' Yoongi says. His hand closes on your arm like a vice.

***

Yoongi’s driving, one hand curled loosely on the wheel, the other on the centre console of his car, close to your bare thigh.

‘Nice suit,’ he says, the first words he’s spoken to you since you left the event.

You smooth the wool over your thigh. ‘Thank you, it’s Valentino.’

Yoongi looks at you like he can’t quite believe your audacity.

‘It looks like the suit I was meant to wear tonight.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask, all innocence.

‘I didn’t know you could tie a tie that well, I should ask for your help next time.’

‘Mrs Gye helped,’ you offer nonchalantly.

‘Where are the pants?’ Yoongi asks. He glances in the rearview mirror, signals to turn.

‘They didn’t fit,’ you say, shrugging.

‘Because they were measured specifically for me,’ Yoongi points out.

You give him a sidelong look.

‘You don’t like me in womenswear or menswear it seems,’ you mutter.

Because you’re watching, you see Yoongi flick his eyes to you.

‘I like you in everything,’ he counters. There’s a pause before he says, ‘and nothing.’

He slows the car, and you look around curiously at the darkness around you.

Yoongi pulls to a complete stop.

‘Why did you steal my suit to wear tonight?’

You don’t have an answer, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to be waiting for one.

‘Is it because I don’t buy you enough beautiful clothes?’ he muses.

‘I buy my own clothes,’ you point out, defiant.

‘Is it because it wasn’t enough for you that I came so hard when you were wearing that ridiculous dress at the last event, I passed out?’

‘You liked that dress?’ you ask, inordinately pleased.

Yoongi glowers at you.

‘If you didn’t act like such a brat all the time, I’d compliment you more,’ he growls.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘You like it when I’m a brat, Yoongi.’

He doesn’t deny it. Instead he looks out the window.

‘How many times do I have to come inside you before you realise how stunning I think you are?’

He turns back to you.

‘Jagiya, I will always think you are beautiful.’

There’s no heat in his voice now, the words come out with a quiet simplicity that rings with honesty.

You’re still processing when he continues, ‘and I will always think you look irresistible in my clothes.’

‘Are you angry with me?’

‘For stealing my suit and leaving me to have a replacement delivered at short notice?’

You turn to him.

‘I’m not angry,’ he tells you. ‘But if I were, how would you make it up to me?’

You bite your lip, then slide your seat back.

‘May I kiss you, Yoongi?’

He’s staring at your lips. ‘Yes.’

You slip your hand down his chest, past his belt buckle, down to his lap.

‘Here?’ you ask, hand over his lap.

‘Fuck, jagiya, please,’ he breathes.

You lean over and undo his pants, slide his half-erect dick out.

Yoongi reaches out, wraps a hand around your (his) tie, loosely.

‘Hey,’ he says, just as your lips touch his cock.

‘Mmm?’

‘Tap me if I’m holding too tight, ok?’

He waits until you nod before he leans back in his seat. His perfectly coiffed hair flicks forward as the back of his head meets the headrest, and his thighs spread as you lick along his cock.

He’s quiet as you suck him to full erection, the only clues you have that he’s enjoying it are the erraticness of his breathing and the way he’s twitching over your tongue.

‘Fuck,’ he groans, fist tightening in your tie, tugging you down.

It’s making the tie tighten around your neck, but you like how it feels.

‘Fu— uh—- uk,’ he groans again, stuttering as you hollow your cheeks and take him all in, the head of his cock nudging the back of your throat.

You swallow, and he slams a hand against the car window.

You reach under, cup his balls, and his hips jerk against your face.

He’s holding you so tight, filling your mouth with his cock so well you can barely breathe.

‘Gonna cum,’ he warns, ‘fuck, I’m gonna —-‘

He doesn’t finish his sentence, moaning long and deep as he shoots his release down your throat.

The tie tightens again, and then he lets go.

‘Jagi, are you ok?’

He’s tipping your chin up to see your face, and the concern in his expression makes you feel warm.

‘I’m ok, oppa.’

He pulls you up to kiss him.

‘Don’t ‘oppa’ me, brat.’

He’s undoing your tie deftly, unthreading the collar bar so he can unbutton your shirt.

‘Let me see,’ he grunts, unbuttoning your shirt rapidly, pulling the plackets apart to expose your lack of bra, the thin, sheer panties you slipped on.

He presses his thumb over your wetness, places his other hand over your exposed front.

‘What do you want, my love?’ he asks. He slides two fingers under your panties, tugs. ‘Want me to kiss you here?’

His knuckles nudge against your core, and he groans. ‘You’re wet, you like sucking my cock, don’t you, jagiya?’

His fingers slip inside you, stretching, scissoring, his movements fast and insistent.

‘Yoongi,’ you cry, and he laughs, thumb rocking back and forth over your clit, making you buck against his hand.

'You're so easy to please, my love,' he taunts.

A lock of hair's fallen over his forehead now, and he looks so good you could cry.

Yoongi cups your breast, squeezes. 'Your little pussy's so fucking tight, I can barely move my hand,' he tells you. 'Gonna come for me?'

You cry his name as your pleasure crests and you press your face into his neck.

Yoongi leaves his fingers inside you but wraps his other arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

The cool metal of his collar bar digs into your cheek.

'I'm gonna help you get re-dressed, ok, baby?' he says, voice low, rumbling in his chest.

'Then I'm going to take you home and we're going to do this again.'

#vows au #yoongi smut #yoongi fic

[gizmo-writes]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince | wilbur soot

it's you and me

that's my whole world

Being American in a British college was weird. You expected things to be different.. you expected people to be nicer.. less bullying. But you were wrong. People were mean. Not very fond of a smart American in their classes. Especially one that seemed so quirky and loud. But that quickly changed after a month. People were rude, calling you Miss Americana because of your attitude and the clothes you wore.. they called you a spoiled rich kid with daddies money. And they weren't wrong, sure you had daddies money but you also worked really hard to get where you were, but that wasn't worth fighting people over. So you changed, you kept quiet and kept to yourself. You knew better than to fight back, so you didn't. It wasn't worth it. You just wanted to get through college and move on with your life.

Wilbur was the same in a way, he was bullied, people were rude to him. They made fun of him for being a streamer, for playing minecraft and making money on it. They made fun of him for being a grown man playing a kids game. He used to cry a lot.. he struggled with girls.. earning him the name of The Heartbreak Prince. So sad, so alone. He was always alone, he started to prefer it that way. If he was alone he wouldn't hear the rude names. If he was alone, he could focus on his music. If he was alone, things were okay.

You were walking to class one day when Wilbur was rushing past you. He ran straight into you, causing you to drop your stuff. A chorus of laughter rang out in the hallway when the two of you collided. It was sheer embarrassment. Both of you dropping your stuff. "Oh look! Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince!" Someone called out. And that was it. The two of you gathered your stuff and that's when you became, miss americana and the heartbreak prince. An unbreakable pair. Sure wilbur preferred to be alone but with you, the bullying became bearable. You two could ignore the laughs and be okay. You found comfort in his eyes, in his music. It was cliche, sure, but it was better than being alone. He found comfort in your laugh, in your voice. With you, he didn't mind the laughs.

The two of you spent most nights in his apartment. He would sit and strum his guitar as you studied endlessly. "You do know, you don't need to study so much. You're incredibly smart," Wilbur said, strumming a few random chords, trying to find the perfect note for his new song. "And you do know, you might wanna study more if you wanna pass that English exam." You said, jokingly. Wilbur rolled his eyes, ignoring your joke. It was always like this, the jokes, the poking fun at each other. It was nice, it reminded you of home, you and your friends making fun of each other for no go reason. "I don't need to pass my English exam, im starting a band remember? We're gonna make it big and you can come with me." He said, smiling over at you. You couldn't help but blush, playfully rolling your eyes, "but until then, you might wanna study," you said, tossing your English book at him. He sat his guitar to the side, grabbing the book, "it's boring, you know what is fun. Music." He said, tossing the book back. "Wilbur," you whined, "you need to study," you said. "And you need to relax! Take a break, let me play you some songs," he chuckled, grabbing his guitar. You sighed, "actually.. I kinda.. I wrote something, like i don't know if they count as lyrics.. i guess it's more like a poem if it doesn't have music, right?" You asked. Wilbur seemed surprised, his eyebrows raising with curiosity. "You wrote lyrics?" He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes, "you're not the only one who likes music Wil," you said, grabbing your journal from your bag. "Well, i know that! I just didn't know you wrote.. you never told me that you did," he said, setting his guitar down on the bed. "They're never good, that's why I keep it to myself." You shrugged, opening your journal and flipping to the page you wanted.

You stared at the page, maybe the lyrics felt a bit too personal to share. But Wilbur had done this plenty of times, sharing lyrics and songs with you that obviously meant a lot to him, that shared his deepest darkest secrets. "I don't know, now that I'm looking at them.. they're stupid." You sighed, closing the journal. "Oh come on! I doubt they're stupid. Remember that lyric i wrote about squids? I wrote a whole song about a minecraft squid. I really doubt they're stupid." He said. You smiled fondly at the memory, hearing the squid song for the first time and laughing your ass off with him. "I promise you Wil, it's cheesy. It's dumb.. it's definitely not like what you write." You said, looking over at him. Wilbur held out his hand, "show me, I think it would be nice to see some lyrics that aren't cynical or dark." He said and you giggled in response. "But if you laugh, I'm punching you." You said, opening your journal back up. "Well, you punch like a child so i think I'll be fine." He said, making you once again playfully roll your eyes.

Wilbur took the journal, eyes scanning the page. He was quiet. "Okay, maybe you can laugh.. you being silent is somehow so much worse." You said, giving a nervous giggle. Wilbur sat down your journal on the bed then grabbed his guitar. "Wil, what are you doing?" You asked, confused. "Shush," Wilbur muttered. He started to strum, trying to find the perfect tune. Finally he did, then he started singing, "It's you and me, there's nothing like this. Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince. We're so sad, we paint the town blue. Voted most likely to run away with you." He sang. Your heart was racing, he really just used your lyrics, he made his own melody with your lyrics. "You should definitely write more, i can help you figure out the tune. We can record it, maybe you could be the big time pop star." Wilbur smiled. "Oh, no way.. that's all you. You're the lyricist, the singer, the soon to be pop star." You said, shaking your head. "Correction, not a pop star, more of a rock and roll star." He said and you giggled. "Fine, whatever you wanna call it. But that's always been you. Not me." You said. "Well, with these lyrics.. it could be you." He said, closing your journal and handing it back to you. "Whatever you say, I need to study." You said, going back to your work. "Nerd." Wilbur muttered, making you flip him off.

#wilbur soot fanfic #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot fluff

[korkorali]

Oooooohhhh are we talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene? I think we're talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene!

Okay okay this is something I have Ideas™️about- specifically why he told her, and why she believed him.

The answer (as I have so humbly decided is obviously the abject truth) is the same for both: Because he'd been manipulating her for years.

He was trying to be the Emperor Palpatine to her Anakin Skywalker.

Why? Simple: The Papyrus of Truth.

Think about it- it doesn't make sense to immediately go 'oh, only Scrooge McDuck's heir can find the Papyrus? Welp, time to steal some of his DNA and make a kid!' That's supervillain territory, and Bradford isn't a supervillain! (He's just a bit of a scumbag, but that's not a supervillain so it's obviously fine.)

So picture this: he finds out about the wish Scrooge made on the Papyrus, that only his heir could find it, and his thought patterns line up with Scrooge's:

He thinks "Alright, then it has to be one of those rugrats."

The question is, which one? Della, or Donald?

And honestly, when they're both kids- it's not really that much of a question, is it?

Is it Donald, the angry coward who loves to hole up in his room and write songs about eating the rich and basically doing everything that Scrooge hates?

Or is it Della, the adventurous and energetic ball of high-octane excitement and adrenaline, unable to sit still for a single moment, who acts like Scrooge McDuck, who likes all the same things as Scrooge McDuck, who is pretty much every single thing that Bradford Buzzard hates about Scrooge McDuck, all rolled up into a bratty child?

(Nevermind the fact that she isn't actually like that, not entirely. Nevermind the fact that she's doing all that because she feels she has to be useful, to be likeable, and that means mirroring Scrooge McDuck because if he likes himself so much then he must like seeing himself in her.)

Obviously it's Della. It has to be.

Which means, in order for him to get the Papyrus, he needed to get his claws into Della.

Which shouldn't have been hard- you can't tell me that Scrooge wouldn't do the same thing with Donald and Della that he did with Louie. He'd take them to the Money Bin (after all, it's like a second home for him), then head into his office and tell them not to disturb him.

And that'd leave Della in the perfect position for Bradford to begin to wheedle his ways past her defenses.

(Of course, multiple problems arise, not the least of which is she's a child and Bradford undoubtedly hates children. But moreso it's that she's genre-savvy, and also (and we love her for it, but) kind of dumb. It's a very frustrating mix that leads to her very nearly calling him out on what he's doing a lot.

But also, despite all that- she's still a kid.

And despite how much she thinks she knows, he's still better.)

It'd take a while, and I don't think he ever really manages it, but he still gets her to trust him.

Eventually, of course, he learns that Della isn't the 'heir of Scrooge McDuck.'

(Not sure how this happens, but it obviously does- I'm sure that lots of the Adventure Trio's adventures in the earlier days were spent searching for that missing Papyrus, but for some reason they stopped. The whole thing threatened to tear Donald and Della apart, or something.)

And that makes all the work he spent on her useless. All the time spent manipulating her, and trying (and -mostly- failing) to get her to be something he wanted, to push her to break up her family, all for naught.

Or- maybe not.

Because Scrooge keeps a secret. He makes her a spaceship. An untested, unreliable, terrible spaceship that literally runs on money.

It's horrible.

It's a waste.

It's perfect.

All the work doesn't have to be for naught. All Bradford has to do is let Della come to him one day, when she's at the Money Bin (probably because she and Donald and Scrooge were going shopping for baby toys, and she kept trying to get these really dangerous and deadly-looking ones, and ultimately got sent to the Money Bin as a bit of a 'time out'), let her rant and burn herself out to him about how frustrating Donald and Scrooge are being, how unfair they are (how scared she is, how much she just wishes they'd let her actually handle some stuff, how bad they make her feel for still wanting to adventure at a time like this, how much it feels like all either of them care about anymore are the kids and not her), how much it blows to be stuck like this.

And all Bradford has to do is offer up some half-hearted consolement, assure her that (while Donald is definitely being too overprotective) that of course Scrooge still cares about her, is still thinking about her, is still thinking about her, after all he's making her the-

And then cut himself off, like he said too much. That's aaaaallll that's needed to peak Della's interest, after all. And as soon as that's peaked- it's over.

All he has to do is hem and haw back and forth, say 'oh but he made me promise never to say anything' and 'I could get in trouble' and so on and so forth. Make it seem like he didn't want to say anything. Make Della feel like she earned the information, that he didn't plan this from the start.

And when she finally gets the information about the Spear out of him, and her eyes light up like stars and she darts off to go see if he was telling the truth, he can be confident that she'll never remember that he was the one who told her about it. All she'd be able to think about is 'I figured it out.' Because she had, after all. She'd figured it out, all her, he definitely hadn't pointed her in that direction at all.

He got to get rid of a liability and break the family, all in one fell swoop.

#ducktales #dt17 #della duck #bradford buzzard #honestly I hem and haw over the idea that like #he sabotaged the spear #planting a bomb in it or something #or more specifically having black heron plant said bomb #so he can still pretend to himself that he's not evil #but the storm came out of nowhere and stopped the sabotage from actually working #from killing her #just because I like the idea of the storm that took della away from her family #also potentially saving her life #and her hating it for that