#Stylish Chandelier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kissatoru · 6 months

Text

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

pairing. sub!vampire!levi ackerman x dom!gn!reader

synopsis. in 19th century society, everyone has secrets they want to keep from seeing the light of day — so what will happen when you unveil levi’s?

content. implied virgin/touch-starved!levi, ooc levi at some points cause of vampire hormones, plot before porn, blood/blood-drinking kink, oral fixation, dry humping, handjob, inappropriate use of cravats, petnames (dearest, darling)

notes. first fic of hornyween!! the others won’t be as long lol this took FOREVER. anyway, please consider reblogging if you enjoy it<3

wc. 5k

Sparkling chandeliers adorn the ballroom’s high ceilings, making the polished floor gleam like honey as stylish figures twirl and glide across it. The rest of the guests are gathered by the walls in clusters, their lively chatter and chuckles mixing in with the night’s melodies.

You stand by one of the pink brocade curtains, sipping a glass of champagne. Your stance is relaxed but mannerly; not seeking nor avoiding attention, just observing and occasionally humouring a fellow guest that takes notice of your presence. Among those who approach you, admirers are plentiful, with faces of various qualities and contours, and characters both pleasant and not, but none who gain more than a few minutes of your time before you’re politely concluding the conversation or excusing yourself entirely.

As you’re meandering through laughing circles and swaying couples, away from yet another adamant admirer, you scan the room for him: the main reason you attended this ball at all. He rarely arrives for the banquets, and when he does, he even more rarely eats more than is expected of him. Now that the dancing has begun, he should be here, but you’ve yet to spot a single trace of him. It has made you restless, your eyes desperate in their pursuit. Each time you catch a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin or a short stature and a neatly tied cravat, you’re just as suddenly disappointed when you realise it’s not him. Eventually, you fall back into the same routine as before — entertaining married couples, faking laughs at bad jokes, listening to shallow gossip.

“Goodness, me,” Baroness Azumabito gushes at you, “you are as charming as they say, Your Grace.”

You chuckle courteously. “You’re too kind, Lady Azumabito.”

She offers you a closed-eye smile, her crow’s feet pinching together. “I truly must ask,” she begins, unfolding her peacock-feather fan and speaking a little quieter now. You already know it’s certainly not something she must ask. “What are your plans on marriage? You have no small number of choices, I’m sure!”

She giggles a little too hard for your liking, and you are reminded of the not-so-pretty piece of gossip you heard only a mere ten minutes ago — her husband’s gambling problems, her unmarried child. Quite the ideal motive for her to talk to you; someone who has both higher status and greater wealth. Of course, you know not all hearsay is true, but with a smile like Lady Azumabito’s, cunning as a fox and twice as sneaky, trust is a risk you’re not willing to take.

You laugh again. “Oh, none at the moment,” you say, feigning ignorance, “I’m so busy these days, I feel as though a partner might be…”

At the edge of your vision, a dark-haired silhouette passes. Your head moves in search of it, your eyes following, flicking this way and that. However, amidst the sea of extravagant gowns and upscale suits, the glimpse you had managed to catch slips from your grasp all too soon.

“Might be what?” Kiyomi asks.

An uneasy sense of disappointment hollows in your chest, but you ignore it. “Uh, a distraction. Would be... a distraction.”

Another flash of shadowy hair, porcelain skin.

Kiyomi clears her throat. “Do you care to elaborate, Your Grace?”

Just as you’re about to turn back to her, a figure stops in clear view before you: a metre and a half tall, raven black locks, eyes as sharp as falcon talons, an intricately tailored waistcoat — and the swan-white ruffles of a linen cravat.

A huff is your only warning before the short woman is stepping in and obscuring your line of sight, her round eyes now pressed into slits by her strained smile. “Please forgive my impudence, Your Grace, but what has you so–”

You abruptly but gently take her hands into yours. “Pardon my manners, Lady Azumabito,” you say, already shifting on your feet in preparation for your departure, “but I’ve spotted an acquaintance of mine with whom I’d like to discuss some private matters with.” You let go of her hands and give a curt bow. “If you’ll please excuse me.”

Her dumbfounded expression is the last you see of her before you swiftly take your leave. You track the person with your eyes and feet in tandem, each step purposeful and your eagerness barely contained. Once you’re in arm’s length, you cheerily call out:

“Viscount Ackerman!”

Several people turn their heads. The Viscount in question stops no later, though seemingly reluctantly. He turns to face you, a question perched on the peak of his raised eyebrow.

Your shoes clack as you stride the rest of the way up to him. Once beside him, you lean over and flash him a cheeky smirk. “Fashionably late as always?” you remark, but it fails to prompt any sort of perceptible reaction. The only change in his expression is his eyebrow returning to its relaxed position.

“And I see you are…” Silver blue eyes wash over you, up and down, in a single steady motion. “In attendance. As always.”

“Of course,” you reply with a practised smile. “I would not dream of missing one of the Duke of Trost’s parties.”

He hums. “I don’t doubt that.”

You hum back, thoughtful. “And what of yourself, my Lord?” you ask. “What brings you here?” You pause to smile knowingly. “Certainly not the food, seeing as you were absent for that.”

His eyes narrow and his lips press together in a firm line. “If you must know, the Duke was very insistent that I attend,” he explains, eyeing a passing servant before picking up a flute of champagne from their tray. “As for my tardiness… I prioritised taking care of some business affairs, first and foremost. Though I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand.” He swirls the liquid around in his glass and takes a sip.

You chuckle heartily. “Oh, come now!” you exclaim. “Why so hostile? Are we not friends?”

“Only in public,” Levi corrects in a low tone.

You turn to face the room, smirking against your glass. “That’s not true and you know it.”

A newly-engaged couple you were conversing with earlier passes by, waving. You smile and wave back at them.

Levi makes an exasperated noise. “Do you never tire of that?” he grumbles into his glass.

You bring your own glass up to your lips. “Whatever do you mean, my Lord?”

He grimaces. “That.”

You giggle. “Keeping up appearances is just the way I was raised,” you reply with a gesture of nonchalance, “but not all my smiles are fake, you know. It’s quite pleasant, smiling.” You beam at him, as if to prove your point. “I think you ought to try it some time.”

Levi scowls. “I know how to smile.”

“Oh, I never said you didn’t, my Lord,” you quip. “I have no doubt that you understand it in theory, just that you should try putting it into practice.” You point to the corner of your mouth, lifting it to mimic a smile.

He sucks his teeth and tears his gaze away from your own. “You’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say, stepping closer. “For longer than ten seconds, might I add. Surely a feat, no?”

Levi scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He raises his glass, speaking over the lip of it. “You just happen to be the least infuriating one here.”

You bite your tongue — “Well, by your standards, being the least infuriating is, in fact, quite flattering!” — and instead, you glance around and lean in. “In that case, what do you say we go find a place away from all this poor company?” Your voice takes on a lighter yet all the more meaningful tone. “Perhaps somewhere just for the two of us?”

There’s a glint of interest in Levi’s eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you pull away to look at him. “I would say that’s highly inappropriate,” he says, hushed, but not in a way that matches his words; hushed in a way that suggests intrigue.

“Inappropriate?” you echo, lips curving into a smile. “You really needn’t worry so much, my Lord! We shan’t be away for long, I promise.”

Levi’s thin eyebrows angle up. After a moment of contemplation, he closes his eyes and sighs. “If you insist,” he concedes.

Without further discussion, you set aside your and Levi’s drinks, then go ahead and stroll over to the arched doors with Levi not far behind.

With how often the Duke hosts such extravaganzas, you’ve had plenty of occasions to become familiar with the layout of their home, hence why you know where all of the rooms are. You navigate through the narrow hallways with an air of confidence, occasionally stopping to praise or snicker at family paintings and decor choices, much to Levi’s chagrin.

“What is it now?” Levi asks, attempting to pinpoint the subject of your attention this time.

You stand by a window that faces the rear garden, peering through the glass with squinted eyes. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that the Countess of Ehrmich and her handmaid kissing out in the gazebo?” You turn to Levi with a theatrically outraged jaw-drop, making him roll his eyes.

“You are no better than those gossiping simpletons we left in the ballroom,” he scolds as he draws the curtains shut.

You chuckle. “Apologies! Only a jest!” He glares at you but otherwise doesn’t complain. You watch him for a moment, how his nimble fingers tug and adjust the curtains, how he mutters expletives under his breath at the dust that transfers to his hands from the curtains.

Feeling mischievous, you lean in, so your lips are almost touching his ear. “It’s just so fun to tease you, I can’t resist.”

Goosebumps raise on Levi’s skin as he flinches away from you, fingers hovering over where your breath brushed his earlobe. He swallows. “Maybe you ought to practise some self-restraint.”

You smirk. “Maybe you ought to have less of it.”

He frowns. “How would that benefit anyone?”

You take a step closer. “Try it and find out.”

Levi takes a step back, but you take another step forward. His back bumps into a solid surface as your hand reaches out. He freezes in anticipation.

The click of a door handle, then a quiet creak.

“I believe,” you say, smiling cattily and circling around him, “I have found the drawing room.”

Levi huffs. “Finally,” he mumbles and pushes past you through the door. You follow after him, shutting the door behind you.

The room is a size you’d expect given how large the rest of the residence is. A ceiling mural depicting an Ancient Roman legend; tall windows and velvet curtains. At the centre of the room, atop a patterned rug, gold and beige furniture is arranged in a thoughtful composition. Dainty — yet no doubt expensive — decorations and trinkets adorn various corners, shelves and walls.

In one of the armchairs, Levi sits down, exhaling long and heavy, as if he had been holding his breath all night. You, on the other hand, decide to explore the room first, ambling between the furnishings and admiring the cosiness of the space. Absent-mindedly, you run a finger along the spines of some books piled on top of a small table, tracing the ribbed leather and embossed text.

“At last, some peace and quiet, hm?” you say, mostly just to occupy the air with something of substance, as you glance at Levi.

He’s sitting with one elbow resting on the seat’s floral print armrest, the pads of his fingers massaging the area between his eyebrows. “Until you spoiled it, yes,” he grunts.

The beginnings of a witty remark form, then just as quickly dissipate from your tongue. The corners of your lips sink, the lines in your face waning into nothing.

With his face cast down, Levi is oblivious to the change in your expression. It isn’t until you take two, five, ten or so steps — when the silence drags on without a response of your own — that he raises his head.

“Actually,” you start, standing by the armchair across from him, only a few feet away, “I brought you here to discuss something with you.”

His reaction is stalled but still comes in the form of a puzzled frown. “Go on, then.”

The floorboards squeak under your weight as you take another few steps forward. Levi shifts in his chair. “We agreed to be honest with one another, Levi. To not keep secrets,” you say, “yet I have good reason to suspect you haven’t entirely been maintaining your end of the agreement.”

As he opens his mouth to defend himself, your approaching footsteps finally seal the remaining distance between you. You step in to occupy the space between his knees and the contact is enough to make them jolt away as if from flames. Levi stares down at them until he catches the movement of your arms in the corner of his vision.

In your hands is a book, presumably from the stack you were observing earlier. He had been so absorbed in the shrinking space between you that he didn’t stop to consider that perhaps the arms linked behind you might be holding something.

His eyes roam the book, then fall on the shining yellow words etched into the front cover:

The Vampyre

by John William Polidori

Electric impulses fire through his body. His mouth goes dry. “I told Hange to get rid of that.”

“Really? Why is that?” you ask, turning it over in your hand. “I hear it’s quite good.”

Levi can’t stop the irritation from showing on his face. “The problem is not with the book itself.”

It’s the influence it has on imbeciles like Hange, he finishes in his head. Imbeciles who’ll believe anything with enough coincidences and paranoid witness accounts. Sure, Hange is a special case, because they’re not so much afraid of the rumoured existence of ‘vampires’ as they are curious, which is arguably worse — especially since, for once, the imbeciles are right.

“Then what’s the problem?” Your frown seems to be of genuine confusion, but Levi knows better. There’s an underlying something just waiting to reveal itself.

Levi folds his arms across his chest. “What does this have to do with our agreement?”

The smile returns to your face, but it is unlike any that Levi is used to seeing; not fake, but not entirely trustworthy either. “Surely you’ve figured out that much by now.” You set the book aside. “Really, Levi. Do you take me for some kind of fool?” Your hands come forward and clasp the armrests of his chair. “Did you really think I don’t know that… you’re a vampire?”

Levi scoffs. “Do you hear yourself?” He narrows his eyes at you. “Vampires are a baseless conspiracy. A ludicrous superstition fabricated by the English that only a credulous halfwit–”

A hand grabs him by the cheeks, cramming the rest of his words back behind his teeth. “Open your mouth,” you order.

The suddenness of the command evaporates any and all thoughts from Levi’s head, replacing them with a purely chemical reaction in the form of heat striking through him. Gradually, you push his head back — and he lets you — while a hard mound he can only assume is your knee eases between his parted legs, coercing a gasp from his mouth. As soon as his jaw loosens, your fingers are poking through the gap between his lips, moving as if hunting for something. They settle around his upper canines, sliding over and prodding at them, over and over, until eventually they begin to grow, extending down, down into a sharp, tapered point, much too long for what can be considered human.

Levi groans, but the sound is much too airy for pain or discomfort to be the cause of it. Drool is gathering beneath his tongue and blood in his cheeks. How humiliating it is to have his fangs coaxed out by the close proximity of his carnal weakness — by someone who should be his prey in this dynamic — and how all the more humiliating it is to have the strike of heat from before already invading the rest of his body.

Only once the fangs have stopped growing do you cease your petting, opting instead to drag a single fingertip along the newly-revealed length of bone. “My, my,” you coo, “it seems that the truth has spoken for itself.” You remove your fingers from his mouth, but Levi’s head remains in its position against the backrest. “Whatever shall I do with you, now that I have you at my mercy?”

Your fingers travel down his exposed throat. Like a frightened prey animal, Levi’s body digs into the cushioned upholstery, trying to comprehend the foreign feeling of being touched in this way. Breaths beat out through his nose in quickening puffs and miniscule tremors rattle through his chest as he attempts to control, or perhaps conceal, the frantic rise and fall of it. Beneath your fingertips, you can feel his heartbeat, the pulse so solid that if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was hitting his ribcage with every beat.

“Are you afraid?” you ask him quietly, your fingers continuing their path downward.

Levi swallows, lets out a heavy breath but doesn’t answer. You watch him, analyse him. His tightly closed eyes, the sweat coming through his clothes… “Then perhaps you’re—” His unsteady breaths, his contracting muscles— “aroused?”

His Adam’s apple lifts and then drops. You follow the motion with your eyes, then lower, lower and lower, until you find the answer you’re looking for in his oh-so-conveniently open thighs. He immediately attempts to shut them, but your own prevent him from doing so.

“No need to be ashamed,” you assure him as you smile that knowing smile and carefully climb on top of his lap. “I can help to relieve you. If you wish.” You rub your bottom half against his hardened groin as a testament to your words.

Levi’s neck stretches over the backrest, an open-mouthed moan escaping him, then retracts back to his chest. His eyebrows cinch together in thought, but the way his hips rut into you has already declared his decision, so when his eyes finally flutter open and peer up at yours, you are unable to suppress your look of delight.

“Please,” is all he says — and all he needs to say to send your mind and self-control reeling.

You pounce forward, ravaging his lips with your own, while you grind down again; harder than before, and with more finesse. The noise that Levi makes into your mouth is much too heavenly for a creature of such damnable origin, yet as addictive as if it had been produced by a devil of temptation itself.

The swipe of a sleek surface has you parting from him on instinct. “Careful of your teeth, darling,” you warn and he nods as if in a daze before pulling you back in. He paws at your clothes, helpless and wanting, as though he aches to bring you closer. You let out an enraptured sigh at his aggressive gesture. After all, what an honour it is to have the stoic Viscount Levi Ackerman falling apart and moaning pathetically beneath you; what sacrilege to be a mortal defiling its natural predator. You feel as though you’re going mad, losing all sense of self from the sheer thrill of it.

You drag yourself away from his lips, only to see the full effects of your actions. Strong features softening as though he’s melting from the pleasure. Eyes squeezed shut while his glossy black hair, usually so perfectly combed, fans out in loose strands over his forehead. Razor-sharp nails mauling the armrests. Two fanged teeth poking out from under his lip.

In minutes, Levi is curling into you and crying out against your skin. You guide him through his climax, raking your fingers up from his undercut and through the strands at the top while whispering caring words to him, in soothing repetition. He collapses into you, his arms limp at your sides and his panting breaths warm on your neck. Before you can push him away, he’s mindlessly nuzzling and lapping at your throat like a dog, coating your skin in spit, sucking and occasionally catching his fangs on the fragile flesh. It would be a lie to say you aren’t enticed by the prospect of them breaking through; moving with more purpose and sinking into your–

Levi whines against your shoulder. “Please, let me have a taste. I’ll do anything, please,” he mumbles. “It’s been so long, I– I cannot wait any longer, please, I beg of you…” He pulls away, licking his lips, as if the taste of your skin is enough to last and cherish. “Please,” he begs, “let me drink your blood.”

You smile, wide, and brush back the hair tickling his eyes. “Only since you asked so nicely.”

As soon as the words enter the air, Levi lunges at you. You’re almost not fast enough, but manage to get a hold of him.

You pin his wrists on either side of his head, and the tightness of your grip seems to snap Levi out of his ravenous trance. “That wasn’t very polite,” you reprimand. Levi only looks up at you regretfully, which is likely the closest thing you’ll get to an apology from him. You sigh. “Don’t worry.” You let go of him and slide your palm under his chin. “Open–”

His jaw falls slack in an instant, granting you access to the inside of his mouth. You trail your fingers around his wet lips first, this way and that, slow and soft, just to hear him whine. You giggle but finally slip a finger inside and Levi groans in time with it. His tongue is the next thing to fall from his mouth, hanging over his lip and dripping saliva onto his shirt.

“What a sight,” you breathe. “I wonder what our fellow nobles would think.”

Levi moans softly as you poke your fingertip into the point of one of his fangs. You hiss as it pierces the skin and wait for the blood to collect before turning your finger over.

“Tilt your head back, dearest,” you say, and Levi does so with haste. You dangle your finger above his eager tongue and watch his eyes roll back as the first drop hits his taste buds. He savours the flavour like a man starved of water, his mouth pooling with drool, and whimpers in anticipation of the next drop.

Your eyes are fixated on him, as if hypnotised, and engulfed in sick amusement from the power you have over him. Your thumb sits under your fingertip, forcing out the liquid with steady presses, but for Levi, it’s still not enough. Animalistic hunger and impatience possess him. His arms come to life to grab your wrist and yank it toward his mouth. He manages to swallow your finger whole before you can react, though the sight is much too precious for you to deny or scold him anyway.

The grip around your wrist turns vice-like as he feverishly sucks the blood from your finger. His closed eyelids twitch and runny spit oozes down his chin. You look on in adoration at the sweetly depraved state you have him in. Who would think that a blood-sucking monster could be this docile and helpless?

Levi’s panting grows heavier until you begin to feel him rutting against you. When you look down, the lump of his crotch has regained hardness, already straining against the dark material. “Aroused again so soon?” you taunt.

He is so engrossed in sucking that he doesn’t seem to hear you, so you tug your finger out of his mouth and hands. He grunts in protest, but you ignore him and try again. “Would you like me to take care of that for you?”

As if freshly woken from a daze, or perhaps still in one, those folds you’re so used to seeing between his eyebrows take shape in a show of gentle confusion. “Take… care of what?”

You bring a hand down to his lap and lightly tap the bulge that’s formed there, making him tense and spasm under you. He must still be sensitive, you think with a smile.

“Of this,” you clarify.

He swallows. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You stifle a chuckle. “It’s a yes or no question, Levi, so answer with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.”

He sighs and evades your eyes as he hisses out a reluctant “Yes.”

“Good boy,” you praise and begin to make quick work of the buttons on his trousers.

Levi frowns. “Don’t call me that. I am not a dog.”

You laugh through your nose, amused. “Yet you drool and whimper just like one.” You playfully stare up at him through your lashes. He doesn’t say anything back, just blooms a deeper pink, so you accept your win and finish unbuttoning his trousers. Next, you unfasten the strings of his undergarments, freeing his leaking length.

As soon as your fingers make contact with it, Levi writhes. His legs squirm and his hips buck up into your touch. In seconds, the wet head of his cock is dripping with bead after bead of precum. In your awe of his intense reaction, you find yourself experimentally toying with it; squeezing, tugging, kneading, fingering. Obscene noises created by the remnants of his previous release make colour fill Levi’s usually colourless cheeks. His glinting grey eyes are lidded, his head dizzy and delirious. His mouth is hanging open in surrender to the erotic sounds he cannot help making, tongue dyed scarlet from your blood and glistening with saliva. You adore it — are spurred on by it, even — but his volume is now teetering on too loud, and the last thing you want right now is to be caught.

So with one hand on his dick, keeping him distracted, you hurriedly untie his cravat and stuff it into his inviting mouth. A startled, confused but thankfully muted moan rumbles through the cloth. You grin at the conflicted eyes and knitted eyebrows you get in response to your actions, entirely unbothered as you continue to take him apart with your touches, to watch him become the embodiment of debauchery. Moonlight skin shiny with sweat, teeth gnawing around his makeshift gag, pelvis involuntarily meeting your movements, elbows pointing to the ceiling as he desperately scratches and claws at the back of the chair, surely ruining it beyond repair with his needlepoint nails and vampiric strength. So effortlessly picture-perfect.

No more than a few seconds later, he’s arching his back against the chair and wailing into his linen gag. The wood of the backrest splinters and the upholstery tears loudly under his fingernails. Warm fluid gushes out over your fist and dribbles down it as you continue stroking his length. Your other hand takes out the cravat from Levi’s mouth and wipes up the mess. He lets out a few wet little warbles and whimpers at the overstimulating feeling, but quietens down once you finish.

You don’t allow him a second to recuperate from his high, instead satiating your own desires; snatching his face up in your hands and latching your lips onto his in one smooth motion. Tongues curl together and the metallic tang of your own blood swarms your senses. Levi keens and grips the fabric at your waist. By the time your mouths separate, you’re both breathless and gasping against each other, and the allure of his dishevelled state has you unable to resist trailing a few extra kisses on his skin; from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, on the soft spot behind his ear and down his delicate neck. Levi grabs at your shoulders weakly, but when you pull back to check on him, his gaze drops to your laps.

“How did you find that?” You tilt your head. “Good?”

Better than good, so much better — is what he thinks, but what he settles on saying is “Yes, it– it was good.”

The smile that stretches across your cheeks is inevitable, and the most sincere one you’ve had the entire night. “Well… as much as I would like to keep going,” you say, chewing on your inner lip corner, and making Levi flush, “I think it’s time we go back.”

You climb off of the chair and straighten out your clothes. Meanwhile, Levi tries, and fails, to stand up, his knees buckling and sending him flopping back into the seat.

You sigh sympathetically and caress the side of his face. “You should rest for a moment,” you tell him. Your fingers glide down to his chin, take it into your hand and wipe the spit, along with the traces of smeared blood, from his lips. “Perhaps neaten up your appearance, in the meantime?” you add with a smirk.

Some awareness seems to have awoken in him, perhaps as a result of your teasing, because he pouts and replies with, “I was planning on doing so anyway.”

You don’t say anything else, taking that moment to appreciate the silence, just the distant echo of music and the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece. Luckily, it does not take long for Levi’s ragged breaths to calm, and for his thighs to reclaim their strength. You help to clean up his image, fastening up garments, flattening out creases and wiping away or concealing the evidence of your activities. Kisses are exchanged in between; some of them stolen, some of them followed by giggles, and some by lustful gazes.

Once you’re ready to leave, you head for the door, but you only go as far as clasping the gold handle before stopping and turning to Levi. His eyebrows shift in that way they’re so good at, speaking when words don’t need to. Your eyes sketch out a path down his face, all the way to his lips, where you find yourself already missing the blood, drool and pearly fangs…

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching for his nape and wrapping your plush lips around each other.

“If you’re well-behaved tonight,” you rasp against his lips, “I’ll treat you to more than just a finger next time.”

taglist. @jazzyluuv <3

551 notes · View notes

biteofcherry · 9 months

Text

Shiny Trinket

Heart of Ruby Masterlist

part of Ruby Garden series

Dom!Ari Levinson x submissive female reader

summary: Don't ever think that your Dom doesn't take your opinions into consideration. Ari's about to thoroughly review your small suggestion about the Ruby Garden club's interior.

warnings: Dom/sub dynamics; bdsm; Dom!Ari Levinson; power imbalance; safe, sane and consensual; established relationship; mild bondage; use of sex toys; explicit s**ual content; very light objectification;

word count: 3.6k

In response to the pleading I wrote something with Dom!Ari to start the weekend. So grab a drink, don't drink it while reading, but hydrate afterwards as aftercare is important even for readers 😂

Head resting on Ari's shoulder, you mindlessly play with the button of his partly-open shirt as your gaze trails across the space. Soft timbre of Ari's voice as your Dom talks to another member is soothing enough that you let your thoughts simply wander.

Dark tones on the walls, which at first sight may look like simple black paint, are in fact a velvety wallpaper encrusted with decorative swirls. BDSM equipment in red leather and old-wood styled designs is mixed with black, French-style furniture; like the curved dresser which drawers are filled with small fun implements, from nipple clamps to gags.

Ornamental iron hanging from the ceilings in various spots around the club serves as rafters to which poor bottoms can be cuffed. The chandeliers, most in red or reddish-gold, a decorative echo of old French districts.

No wonder Ari feels here so at ease. Not only because he owns the place, but because he made it a much kinkier, lush reflection of the New Orleans, which used to be his home.

You like the quite luxurious feel of the Ruby Garden, with the enticing shades of black and titular red, wood and upholstery that sometimes make you fantasize about past century brothels or private clubs where kink started to bloom amongst bohemian passions.

But there's something missing. At least according to your eye.

"It could use some sparkles," you mutter under your breath, not fully aware you said it out loud.

Ari's legs beneath you jerk up slightly, nudging you as he tilts his head and glances at you.

"Hmm? What were you saying, mon Chérie?" He asks.

Ari never loses his focus on you, even if he's engaged in a conversation with someone else, his instincts are always zeroed in on you.

It's endearing, but sometimes also scary. Especially in moments when you'd rather not have your Dom sense you're about to get into trouble.

"Nothing important," you shrug. "Just that something shiny could be added to the club's interior."

"What?" Ari arches a single brow, now fully looking at you.

"Hey, I find the club very chic and stylish," you playfully tug on the collar of Ari's shirt, "but even with the addition of red it's still mostly masculine. A few shiny trinkets here or there could level it up."

Okay, so maybe you like sparkling things a bit.

Maybe a lot.

Maybe the vanity at your place is stacked with four jewelry boxes that beside your usually worn jewelry contain lots of broken strings of colorful beads, which you didn't have a heart to throw away because they were so pretty and shiny.

"Shiny decorations?" At first Ari looks at you as if you lost your mind, but his eyes slowly darken as he deliberates on something.

You tilt yourself back warily, as much as Ari's heavy arm securing your back allows. You don't trust that look on his face, when his features harden and evil kind of mischief ignites in his blue eyes.

When he gives you that look, it usually means you're about to suffer his wicked ways.

"I think I have to seriously consider such a proposition." Ari hums, tracing his fingertips down your arm.

He gently takes your fingers in his and lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles like a gentleman. Reminding you of the movie vampires you once compared him to, saying he had that southern charm blinding his victim into compliance so that he could rip her apart and leave her body in the bayou.

Ari had laughed then; rich and genuine amusement that carried through his apartment and made your heart flutter in happiness.

Then he'd tied you to a reupholstered Bergere chair and wrecked you to a point that you prayed for being dumped dead in the bayou.

So now that he's dropping into his charming deception again, your heart jumps in reasonable fear. And your pussy clenches.

"Stand up for me, Chérie." He helps you up on your feet, moving along with you, until he's towering over you.

"Remove your clothing, please." Though he's polite, you know it wasn't a request, but an order.

One you don't have much trouble complying, despite there always being that first wave of embarrassment when you undressed fully in the club, since there were always curious eyes around you.

"Wrists, please."

It's an instinct, to place your hand in Ari's grip without hesitation. Even if you're wary of his creative type of evil, you trust him deeply.

Ari's leather cuffs are already in place, always put on before you enter the club floor. Now he links them together, binding your hands. Then he lifts your arms above your head.

Your eyes follow the line of Ari's arms as he stretches them - one hand holding your bound wrists, while the other reaches for a chain hanging from the rafters above.

Uh-oh.

He chains you in place, pulling you up 'till you're balancing on the balls of your feet.

Ari tenderly runs his fingertips along your arms and down your sides, reminding you of his presence and care, despite having just thrown you off balance.

"A second, if you please." He smiles at you, but it's not really reassuring. Not at the moment when you see the wicked hunger gleaming in his eyes.

Ari sways you gently, chuckling when you squeak as your feet slide across the floor.

He moves past you, walking a few steps away. You can hear amused huffs coming from the few people who are around, including the Master with whom Ari was speaking before.

You try focusing on the sounds of what your Dom may be preparing, but the mixture of the club's noises drowns out the quiet slide of a drawer being pulled open.

Ari doesn't take long, but enough for you to start stewing in images running wild.

There's always an element of surprise (to not say shock) when being with Ari. No matter how many details you talk over before starting some scenes, your Master always twists it up and makes your head spin.

He stands in front of you again, steadying your body with a hand on your hip. He lets his gaze roam over you; slowly, so that you feel the burning attention rousing each part of your body.

"I'm always open to suggestions," he says, squeezing your flesh, "so I'll happily consider the option of adding more sparkling elements to the interior."

"But I'd rather keep with the color scheme, okay?" He asks you, as if he was really talking about simple interior design.

You know he's not. You can practically see the cogs in his devious mind twirling rapidly, creating a plan of your demise to the tune of his evil laugh.

You swallow nervously, nodding your head hesitantly.

Then Ari takes something out of his pocket and your eyes widen.

The chain that dangles on his finger isn't long. It has three red, crystal hearts placed evenly across it. And a pair of biting as fuck nipple clamps - each on one end.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" You shake your head, scrambling away as far as your chain allows, which isn't far.

Ari sighs.

He takes one step to the side. Then lands a slap on your ass so solid, that the crack of it echoes through the club and the painful sting makes you jump forward with a shriek.

Rough fingers squeeze your chin harshly when Ari faces you again. his eyes hold a reprimand that's a hair away from punishment.

"Nipple clamps are not on your hard limits list." He reminds you. "Or has that changed?"

"N-no, Sir," you want to cast your eyes down, but with the way Ari's holding your chin you're forced to withstand the eye contact.

"Do you perhaps need to safeword?"

Though his voice is a low graze of displeasure, you know it's at your antics, because Ari is always - absolutely always - serious about consent and safewords.

"No, Sir," you don't hesitate in your answer, even though you know it's sealing your fate.

"Are you in the yellow range? Do we need to pause and talk?"

He would. Immediately. If you hinted at actual discomfort beyond what you could take for your Master.

But you were nowhere near that stage. You were simply fussy and maybe the tiniest bit bratty, which meant you were getting yourself in even more trouble.

"No, Sir," you grumble in defeat.

"Ah, so you're being whiny just for the sake of it?" Ari releases your chin, but his fingers curl instead around the back of your neck as he steps so close to you that his clothes graze your naked skin.

"I don't like nipple clamps!" You blurt out, unable to stop the petulance from spilling.

"Tough." Ari shrugs. "Because I like putting them on you."

"I like how you squeak when I attach them," he murmurs, running his fingertips under the swell of your breasts. "How you pant as you breathe through the pain for me."

"I love how wet you get from them," he pinches your nipples, at the same time capturing your lips in a kiss.

Your yip melts on Ari's tongue, dispersing into a moan the longer he holds your nipples between his fingers.

You'd tell him it's not the clamps themselves that do it to you, but the fact Ari makes you suffer them. Also because his voice, warm and raspy, is like prelude to sex itself and you would get wet and needy from his talk alone.

But any coherent thought leaves your brain when Ari's mouth descends down your neck and onto your breasts. He cups each in his big hands, squeezing. Then his mouth is on one of your nipples, sucking and tormenting it into a stiff point.

He lavishes the other tit with the same voracious attention, tugging on the stiffened peak with his teeth, before releasing it.

Straightening up, Ari holds your gaze as he rubs your poor, tortured nipples with his fingers, wiping away excess of his own saliva, so that the clamps would hold on better.

And then he's attaching the first one; impish glee lighting up his eyes at your hiss.

By the time he secures the other clamp, adjusting the tightness, you're trying to steady your ragged breath and not close your thighs, because your folds are getting puffy and wet.

"See? Shiny." Ari mocks you, flicking one of the crystal hearts hanging from the thin chain attaching both clamps.

The impact, however minimal, tugs on your nipples, sending another zap straight to your core.

"But I think, if we're going for a proper shiny ornament to decorate my club-" Ari's mouth curves in a smirk as he reaches into his pocket once again- "it needs to be opulent."

He lifts his hand up and the first thing that you see is a red crystal heart between his fingers.

Ari turns his palm up and a wave of heat washes over you. A butt plug. Very reasonable in size, but it doesn't change the fact you're still squirmy and shy when your Dom initiates anal play.

You almost caused him a laughing hiccup when you tried to talk your way out of it, by blurting out it's unhygienic.

In moments like that, when you knew Ari was going to push against your resistance, you considered moving everything into a hard limit list. Though Ari had the skill to use kissing alone as a damn torment.

You curse under your breath when Ari moves to stand behind you and kicks your feet wider apart. You catch a small audience glancing your way, quickly shifting your own gaze to the floor.

There's a snick of a bottle being open and then Ari's finger slides between your buttcheeks, smearing a dollop of lube around your rim.

The plug is coated in lube as well, easing its way inside.

Your breath quickens, a whimper spilling on your lips when Ari pushes the toy in.

"Push back, Chérie. That's it," he encourages you.

While his voice is soft and the hand steadying your hip is reassuring, the pressure against your tightest hole is merciless.

“There you go,” Ari forces the whole thing in, tracing the heart-shaped securing end with his finger. “So pretty and sparkly.”

He pats your ass lightly, rounding you again. A glint of recognition in his eyes tells you that he's acutely aware that you’re settling into every sensation, every part of the scene that’s unfolding.

Ari knows your body is throbbing with growing need, that you’re focusing on the feeling of your nipples being crushed and your ass being stretched; as well on the helplessness of being bound and naked in front of him. In front of other people, too. And he knows being at his mercy (while also deeply certain of remaining in his care) tops your arousal.

Your gaze is a little dazed already as you look up at him, a blissed sigh leaving your lips when Ari’s touch marks your body.

He’s tracing lines along your sides, moving closer to caress your back and then up your arms. He draws patterns with his fingertips, then squeezes your ass with both hands.

Breath hitches in your lungs as Ari crouches down, his hot breath tickling your belly while his large hands grip your thighs.

For a long moment nothing happens, just Ari keeping his mouth an inch from your wet core as he slides his hands up and down your legs, each time moving them a little higher, a little further between your thighs.

When his tongue flicks against your clit, your whole body jerks with sensation. The chain clinks, your feet scrambling against the floor, and the heart-shaped weights on the nipple clamps tug harsher.

“Shh,” Ari coos, wrapping his arms around your thighs to help you steady.

He works wicked eights on your swelling nub, his tongue putting spells that drive you surely to the edge, but keep away from finishing your torment.

When he pulls back, you have half a mind to glare at him. The fact he doesn’t immediately retaliate with a swat to your clit only increases your worry. Turns you on even more, as well.

Ari reaches into his pocket once again. It takes your glazed eyes a few seconds to make out the glint of the implement within his palm. Similar to a minimalistic, curved brooch, with a single red, crystal heart.

“Oh God, Sir.” You nearly weep, tugging on the chain binding your hands. “Please no, Sir, please, please.”

Ari doesn’t show an ounce of irritation this time, he’s too smug about drawing reactions from your body. Though you are certain that the clit clamp he has prepared for you is for his own amusement, not your own pleasure.

“Color?” He simply asks, referring to the traffic color system that’s the classic and most basic form of stating your state when in a bdsm scene.

You whine again, because you can’t lie to him and because you’re not even distressed.

“Green,” you admit, pouting.

You try tilting your ass back, moving your sensitive parts away from the wicked Master with his stupid implements of evil. A smack on the back of your thigh has you yelping and scooting back forward. You earn another slap for glaring.

“FuckjesusohgodSirfuck-” you babble, eyes screwing shut as Ari pinches your puffy folds together and clamps them.

Your engorged clit is fully exposed in the tear-shaped hole, its sides squeezing it only a tad lighter than the torture devices do your nipples. The heart shaped crystal falls right atop your exposed clit and you know it will bump it with every move.

Sucking in a breath, you press your lips together and still your body. If you won’t move a single muscle then it will be alright.

Moderately alright, since you’re suffering already, but better than the-

Your mouth falls open on a cry and your whole body jolts when Ari pats your clit with an open hand.

Your core burns, walls fluttering rapidly. Your ass clenches too, which in turn leads to a dirty reminder that it's stretched around a plug. Movement causes the chain between nipple clamps to sway, tugging on your abused peaks.

The heat inside you grows, blood rushing through you and buzzing in your head.

Lips parted, as moan after moan trickles out, you fall deeper into sensations spreading through your body. Your mind gets a little cloudy, shutting out everything that isn’t connected to your body.

Ari’s touch becomes a beacon, drawing your attention to wherever he points. Light strokes of his hands, instead of soothing your body, escalate the madness. His mouth joins the torment, kisses and bites overloading your senses.

You keen loudly when he brushes the back of his hand against your trapped, swollen folds. You don’t even register the hum of delight from your audience when Ari taps the crystal over your clit and it bounces, making you cry out.

“Who would’ve thought that a shiny trinket is so whiny?” Ari mocks.

You, amusing him further, whine again, your head lolling forward.

Ari’s fingers push between your lips, coarse pads rubbing against your tongue. He drives two, then three, almost to the back of your throat. Then withdraws them, a string of saliva stretching between your mouth and his fingers.

He brings his wet fingers to your clit again, circling it oh so slowly, then flicking the crystal over and over again.

He gives you short reprieve, enough for the pulsing in your clit to marginally subside. Enough that when he finally takes the damn clamp off, you don’t come immediately from the sheer return of blood to your sensitive parts.

You’re nearly panting and doing your best to keep your legs spread, because if you closed your thighs an inch, it surely would be a stimulation enough you’d orgasm.

Which, actually, is tempting as hell…

You don’t get to try it, however. Ari is pushing between your thighs; pants undone and cock sheathed.

He grips one of your legs below the knee and pulls it up, wrapping it around his hip. Bending his legs slightly, Ari guides the head of his cock into your pussy. Standing still for a moment, he moves his now free hand to grip your ass and then plunges in one, swift stroke.

The stretch is maddening enough to have you push up on your tiptoes, but Ari drives in to the hilt, sinking himself so deeply that your oversensitive clit crushes into his pelvis.

You come with a scream, body convulsing in pleasure so high it’s almost painful.

Ari holds you through it, a vein in his neck pulsing as he forces himself to stay still and not fuck into the clenching heat of your cunt.

When you slump forward, head resting in the crook of Ari’s neck, he teases loud enough for your hazy brain to register and for your audience to hear:

“So much trouble with shiny trinkets. You poke it and it immediately breaks apart.”

Your incoherent mewl against his neck makes Ari huff a laugh.

He kisses your shoulder softly then starts moving. He keeps the few first thrusts slow, finding the best angle for his own pleasure. Then steadily increases the pace and the force.

You start responding, as each push jolts your body and the embers of arousal ignite into flames again. The clamps on your nipples are still attached, pulling on your peaks with each roll of Ari’s hips. His hand on your ass angles, long digits resting atop the crystal of the anal plug and tapping it repeatedly.

“Oh! Ohh!” Your head tilts back, cheek squishing into your outstretched arm.

Ari tugs on the butt plug, cock driving into you harder. Among the fizz in your head, you can hear faint jingling - of the chains on the rafter, of the chain swaying between your tits, of the buckle in Ari’s belt.

There’s also the pitiful babble coming from your own mouth: begging and prayers, all at once.

Ari’s grunts elicit a special type of pleasure, a certain fulfillment at knowing your Dom is satisfied. That you give him this pleasure. For a submissive like you it’s a gratification greater than your own orgasm.

Though you sure love the shattering climax that Ari rips from you when he rams into your pussy at a particular angle.

The squeeze of your walls topples him over soon after you. The feelings of his cock twitching inside you makes you sigh in contentment. It always does, whether he finishes in one of your holes, or in your hand.

You don’t fully register the tenderly spoken “I’ve got you, mon amour,” when Ari slides out of you a few heartbeats later.

It’s the rush of blood returning to your nipples after he takes off the clamps, that shakes you out of daze. The zap of pain surges to your core in a twisted ripple.

Ari rubs your nipples gently, easing the ache. Kisses each tip.

He eases out the plug from your hole, then gathers all the toys into a small zip-lock bag to take it cleaning later. One strong arm around your middle, Ari uses his other hand to unchain you. There’s no stumbling as you sink boneless into his arms, Ari's an expert in catching and holding you.

With your head resting against Ari’s chest when he sits down on a small sofa, after wrapping you in a soft blanket, you focus on the pounding of his heart beneath your ear and don’t hear the passing comment of one of the Masters about it being a fun idea to have someone be made into a trinket once a week.

Ari doesn’t mind this type of recurring decoration at the club.

As for the kind of shiny trinkets you liked, Ari decides on buying you a few sun catchers to hang in the windows, so you could chase the shards of rainbow scattered on the floor and walls.

#Ari Levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #dom!Ari Levinson #dom!Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson imagine #ruby garden #heart of ruby #ruby garden series #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #ari levinson fic

552 notes · View notes

gammasnippets · 16 hours

Text

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

fromis_9 Lee Seoyeon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is that?" she asks curiously.

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

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

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: LOVE IN THE CLUB

Learn how to be the best bartender!

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

You have 3 hours to prepare your drink.

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

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Got it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seoyeon then ponders his question, scratching her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not sure if this is correct, but let's see," Seoyeon tells herself as she tests the concoction.

After tasting her work, a delighted expression appears on her face.

"Mmmh. That's pretty good," she exclaims, looking rather pleased.

"Is it? Let me try," the bartender says as he takes the glass from her.

He then samples her creation and a pleased expression appears on his face as well.

"It is quite good. Good job," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth.

"Really? Thank you," Seoyeon smiles happily.

"However, I believe you missed a few things," the man says, his voice laced with a bit of teasing.

"Is that so?" she asks, a mix of interest and intrigue.

"What you just recreated is a Long Island iced tea. Very popular in the US," he explains, a smile tugging on his lips. "You missed adding a bit of gin."

"Ooh, that's what it is," Seoyeon responds, sounding impressed.

"Yes," he replies, nodding his head. "So how do you feel after learning a bit about mixing drinks?"

"It was quite fun," Seoyeon remarks, her face flushed with excitement. "I enjoyed it."

"I'm glad to hear it," the man tells her. "Should we proceed to your challenge? Maybe you would like to learn more, perhaps?"

"Can you teach me more?" Seoyeon inquires, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"I could," the bartender answers with a smile. "But you look like you had enough drinks."

The camera focuses on her face, showing her rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, signs of being drunk. She scrambles to check his claims, putting her palms on her cheeks.

"I'm fine. I'm not drunk yet," she retorts, laughing, as if embarrassed.

"Are you sure? The ones you drink are pretty strong," he asks, his eyes narrowing at her, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm sure," she answers, her voice tinged with certainty. "I'm fine—hic!"

She covers her mouth, embarrassed, hiding her hiccup.

"There we go," the man tells her, his voice soft yet firm.

"N-no. I'm not..." she stammers, trying to hold back another hiccup.

"Well, you are," he insists, his tone playful.

"I-I'm not... Agh!" she tries again as she slowly shows frustration in her state.

"It's alright, Seoyeon. You can be honest," he encourages her, his voice gentle and kind.

"But I'm not. Really," she tries to convince him.

"You sure you are not drunk, yet?"

"No. Yes. I mean—hic! Aww, man!" she hiccups again, a small smile playing on her lips.

The bartender laughs lightly, amused by her stubbornness.

"See, Seoyeon. You're not fine at all," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth. "You've had enough."

"But I want to learn more!" she insists, her voice filled with determination. "We still have some time left."

"We can do that later, okay?" the bartender assures her. "After all, you can't mix drinks if you're drunk."

"Hmmm... I guess you're right," Seoyeon replies, nodding slowly.

"Alright. Let's take a rest over there," he points at a plush couch placed in a corner of the room.

"Okay… Nghh…" she replies, groaning.

"Come, follow me," he says as he gestures for her to walk.

They then make their way towards the couch. Despite having a few drinks, she moves steadily yet he follows closely beside her, supporting her as she goes. Soon after, they both take a seat on the couch, sitting closely next to each other.

"This couch is nice and comfy," Seoyeon observes, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"It is, isn't it?" the bartender comments, his tone soft and warm.

"Yeah," she nods her head.

He then offers her a glass of water, which she accepts gratefully.

"Thank you," she tells him, her voice tinged with gratitude.

"You're welcome," he replies, his voice gentle and soothing.

Seoyeon takes a sip of water and leans her head back against the couch.

"So... How do you find bartending?" he asks her, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Well, it's been fun so far," Seoyeon tells him, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Glad to hear that," he replies, his eyes meeting hers.

"I'm learning new things with your help," she adds, her tone grateful.

"Anything for a cute customer like you," the bartender compliments her, and a warm smile can be seen on his face.

"You flatter me," Seoyeon responds, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey. Your face is getting redder," he teases her.

Embarrassed, she tries to cover her cheeks with her hands. "That's because you're flattering me!"

"No need to be embarrassed, though," he tells her, his voice gentle and understanding. "It's the alcohol's doing."

"Ah, yeah... I'm a little bit tipsy, I guess," she admits, her voice filled with sheepishness.

"Just a little bit?"

"Yeah! I'm not drunk!" she argues.

"Really? Because you're hiccuping a lot."

"But I'm not—hic!"

The bartender laughs. "There it is again."

"Ugh. I can't help it," she groans, sounding frustrated.

"Well, I'm sure you can," the bartender counters. "Maybe you just need some help."

"Help? How?" she inquires, her voice curious and hopeful.

"You see... They say kissing helps stop hiccups," the man replies, his voice low and suggestive.

Seoyeon chuckles at hearing his explanation. "Is that so?"

"It does," he insists. "But only if you want to stop it."

"I don't believe you," she retorts, her voice playful.

"Well, then... Shall we find out?" the man offers.

"Fine. Go ahead," she gives in, her voice tinged with a hint of teasing.

The man then leans closer, his face just inches away from hers. You can see her blushing cheeks and biting her lips. He then slowly brings his lips closer to hers, stopping just a hair's breadth away.

"Ready, Miss?" he whispers.

"Mhmm," she nods her head. “Go ahead.”

Seoyeon closes her eyes, waiting patiently for the kiss to happen. But the bartender has other plans. He moves his lips to the side of her mouth and kisses her cheek.

"Ah?" she sighs, her eyes fluttering open.

"Not there, right?" the bartender teases her, a playful grin appearing on his lips.

"Oh, you!" she giggles, slapping his arm playfully.

"My bad," he says, giggling. He then leans in once more. "Here, let me try again."

His lips finally land on hers, kissing her. They start slowly, moving their lips against each other gently and sensually. The two of them eventually get lost in the moment, enjoying the taste of each other's lips. After a while, they pull apart, gasping for air.

"There. Better?" the bartender asks.

Seoyeon examines herself, finding no more hiccups. She then smiles, looking at him with bright eyes.

"Yes," she breathes out, her voice filled with relief. "I think it worked."

"Well that's great," he responds, a pleased smile forming on his face.

The two looked at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence falling over them.

"I hope it won't come back," she says, her voice low and soft.

"It won't," he assures her, chuckling.

"Are you sure?" she asks him, her eyes locked at his’.

"Maybe... But why don't we make sure it won't?" he suggests, smirking.

Seoyeon's face flushes even redder, and she quickly averts her gaze.

"Hmmm…" she trails off, a slight tremble in her voice. “I guess we can try.”

The bartender's eyes then travel along the contours of her face, his gaze settling on her lips. He then leans closer, his nose brushing against hers.

"Shall we try it again?" he asks, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Seoyeon's breathing hitches and her heart pounds in her chest.

"Sure," she answers breathlessly.

He then brings his lips to hers and begins kissing her deeply. Their tongues immediately tangle together as their lips move in sync, like a romantic dance. His hand caresses the nape of her neck, while her hands rest on his shoulders, holding him close. As their lips continue to collide, their bodies become even closer. He gently pushes her body down, making her lean on the sofa, his lips never leaving hers.

"Mmmh... Fuck," she moans against his mouth.

The bartender's kisses eventually trail down her chin and neck. The sensation of his lips against her skin sends her shivering, and she can't help but whimper softly.

"You like that?" the bartender murmurs against her neck, his voice deep and seductive.

"That feels good," she breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire.

"Want me to do it more?" he asks, his lips tracing a line along her jaw.

"Yeah... Mnhh…" she nods, her voice heavy with lust.

As his lips trail down her neck, he gently bites her skin, eliciting a soft moan from her.

"Ah! That's... Ohh!" she cries out, her voice shaky and breathless.

He continues kissing her neck, leaving small bite marks all over her.

"You smell so good, Seoyeon," he breathes against her ear, making her shudder.

"Thank you—oh fuck!" she moans, her head rolling back.

His hands then begin exploring her body. They caress her curves and trace the outline of her breasts. He gropes and fondles them through the thin fabric of her shirt, making her whimper in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice dripping with lust.

"Ahh... I was about to say the same thing," she responds, her voice laced with desire.

"I'm happy to please," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear.

"And I'm glad to be pleased," she whispers back, her eyes locking onto his.

He then kisses her passionately, his tongue pushing inside her mouth.

"Mmmh!" she moans, her hands tangling in his hair.

Like a hungry animal, he hastily unbuttons her blouse, revealing her luscious breasts hidden behind a red lace bra.

"Shit, Seoyeon... These are perfect," he whispers, his voice hoarse and thick with desire.

"Looks like you're loving the view," she purrs, her eyes locked onto his.

"Oh, yeah. You're a fucking goddess," he replies, his gaze full of lust.

He then places his hand on her breasts and squeezes them, making her moan in pleasure. He then kisses her neck and licks the shell of her ear, his tongue flicking and teasing her sensitive skin.

"Mmmh! Fuck... Yes," she moans, her breathing ragged and labored.

"Do you like that, Seoyeon?" he growls, his lips trailing down her neck.

"Yeah! I love it," she moans, her voice heavy and desperate.

"Then let me show you something else you'll love," he growls, his eyes glinting with lust.

He then moves his hand between her legs and gently separates her thighs, revealing the matching red panties underneath.

"Oh fuck," she mutters, her voice filled with anticipation.

He slowly runs his fingers over her panties, teasing her through the thin fabric.

"You're so wet, Seoyeon," he whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

"You're the one who did this," she retorts, her voice filled with desire.

"Blaming me for it, huh?"

"Y-yes," she breathes out, her voice weak and shaky. "You're the one who has his hands all over me."

"Well, you're the one who looks so irresistible," he counters, his lips tracing the outline of her ear.

She moans, her voice quivering and breathless.

"Ah! Ohh... Fuck me," she whimpers, her voice heavy and pleading.

"Gladly," he growls, smiling.

With her permission, his hand dips between her legs and pushes her panties aside. Her partner is left breathless at the sight of her wet lips. But that didn’t stop him from rubbing his thumb against her inviting folds, making her whimper to his touch.

"Oh! Fuck, you're such a tease," Seoyeon comments, a slight snicker forming on her face.

His fingers continue to attack her sensitive bud, her toes curling as her grip on the couch tightens.

"Mmmm... Fuck," she mutters, her voice strained.

"You like that, huh?" he growls, his eyes dark and filled with lust.

"Oh, yeah," she moans, her body squirming and trembling.

He continues rubbing her wet folds, his fingers expertly pleasuring her.

"You're so fucking sexy, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

"Aah! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries out, her body writhing in pleasure.

"On your limit already?" he smirks.

"N-no! I'm just—ooh... So good," she whimpers, her voice breathless and shaky.

He chuckles at her reaction and continues pleasuring her, his fingers rubbing her sensitive flesh.

"Ah! Oh fuck," she cries out, her body writhing in ecstasy.

"My... Aren't you sensitive?" he teases, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Fuck off... Mhnn..."

He then slips a finger inside her wet pussy, making her gasp and moan.

"S-shit! That feels good!" she breathes, her voice shaky and weak.

"Looks like I hit a spot, huh?" he whispers, his voice thick with lust.

"Yeah! Mmmm... Don't stop," she moans, her body trembling and quivering.

He slides his finger deeper into her, his thumb rubbing her sensitive clit.

"Fucking hell! Oh shit," she gasps as her hips buck in the air.

"How does that feel, huh?" he growls at her, his voice thick with lust.

"W-what do you think? Mmmh!" she moans out.

"I bet it feels good," he says, his voice dripping with lust.

"Yeah! It does," she gasps out, her body squirming and trembling. "Now, hurry up and make me cum."

He smirks.

"With pleasure," he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

Suddenly, the camera cuts to a wide-angle shot, and you can see both the bartender's and Seoyeon's expressions change dramatically. The man's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open as he stares at the beautiful sight before him. Meanwhile, Seoyeon's face is contorted with pleasure as she moans loudly and squirms on the couch, her body arching and writhing uncontrollably. They look like they're in a state of pure bliss, a mesmerizing scene of intense intimacy and raw desire.

"Aah! Your… Your thing is—oh fuck!"

Seoyeon's loud, sensual cry fills the room as her body trembles and quivers, her pussy clenching and convulsing around the bartender's fingers. The bartender looks down at her in amazement, his face flushed with arousal and his eyes dark with lust.

"Getting close, are we?" the bartender asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum soon," Seoyeon breathes, her voice shaking and quivering.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Fuck yeah... I do."

"Damn, you're incredible," he whispers to her ear, his voice hoarse and strained.

She lets out a weak, satisfied chuckle.

"I aim to please," she tells him, a playful tinge in her voice.

The bartender chuckles and leans down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues once again meet in a passionate dance, their bodies pressed close together. As their intense make-out session goes on, so do his fingers, pumping in and out of her pussy.

"Oh shit… Let it out, Seoyeon," he commands her, his voice husky and thick with lust.

Seoyeon's breathing becomes heavy and erratic, her body quivering and squirming under his touch. She whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

"I-I'm so close…" Seoyeon whimpers, her voice filled with desire.

"Then come for me," he growls, his voice dark and husky.

He pumps his fingers in and out of her pussy faster and faster, making her body tremble and convulse.

"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!" she screams, her body arching and quivering in ecstasy.

"There. Let go, Seoyeon," he encourages her, his voice low and commanding.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna—oh fuck! I'm cumming!"

Seoyeon's body suddenly shudders and convulses as her orgasm hits her hard, sending her reeling in ecstasy. Her pussy clenches and convulses around his fingers, her juices spraying everywhere. She can be naughty at times, especially around her fellow members. But her current display of eroticism is on a whole different level.

"Mmmh! Ooh! Ohh! Fuck! Oh fuck!" she screams, her body writhing and shuddering in pleasure.

Her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open as she loses herself in the throes of pleasure, her body spasming and quivering uncontrollably. Her loud cries of pleasure and ecstasy fill the room as she rides the waves of her orgasm, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

After what seems like an eternity, her orgasm subsides. The bartender looks at her, his eyes dark and lustful, while Seoyeon's are glazed and unfocused. They remain motionless for a few moments, both catching their breath.

"How was that, hmmm?" the bartender whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"Oh f-fuck... It was incredible," Seoyeon tells him, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"You were amazing, Seoyeon," he responds, his voice heavy with desire.

"Thanks. You too," she replies, her breathing still labored and uneven.

"I'm glad I was able to please you," the bartender murmurs, his lips brushing against her neck.

Seoyeon shudders at his touch, her body still tingling from her orgasm.

"Nghh… Y-you definitely did," she breathes, her voice quivering and weak.

"Well, it's only natural for me to reciprocate," he chuckles, his voice low and seductive.

"Is that so?" she asks, breathless and husky.

"Mhmm," he hums, his lips trailing down her neck.

"I guess I should pay back the favor, then," she tells him, her voice heavy with desire.

The bartender then lays himself back on the couch, his hands crossed his head.

"Go ahead, then," he whispers, his voice dark and husky. "The floor's yours."

A smirk then forms on her face, her eyes burning with lust.

"Gladly."

Without hesitation, she proceeds to unbutton his pants. She works slowly and methodically, teasing him through his boxers. The bartender's breathing hitches and he bites his lip, watching her intently. Once she has unbuttoned his pants, she slides both his pants and boxers off, freeing his hardened member, already glistening with precum.

"Oh my," she coos, her voice dripping with lust.

She then leans down and takes a close look at his cock, her eyes studying it intently.

"See anything you like?" the bartender teasingly asks.

"Yeah, I do," Seoyeon answers, biting her lips.

"Why won't you indulge yourself, then?"

"If you insist," she tells him, her voice low and seductive.

Without hesitation, she begins playing with his dick, stroking and squeezing it with her hands. She licks her lips and leans down, kissing his shaft from top to bottom. Her movements are slow and sensual, making sure he feels every single one. He gasps and groans, his cock twitching and pulsing. She then takes the tip of his member into her mouth, planting a kiss before sucking on it gently.

"Mmmh, yes... That's it," the bartender murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"You like that?" Seoyeon asks, her voice low and husky.

"Yeah. Keep going," the bartender breathes, smiling, his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

Seoyeon giggles and resumes her actions, slowly sliding his entire length into her mouth. She gags slightly at first but quickly recovers and starts sucking and licking his cock, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Fuck... You're so good at this," the bartender grunts, his hands gripping her hair.

"Mhmm," she moans, the sound vibrating against his member. "Dho yu luhv ith?"

"Fuck, yeah. Don't stop," he growls, his voice husky and full of desire.

As instructed, Seoyeon increases her speed and sucks harder, taking his cock as deep into her mouth as she can. The bartender groans and grunts, his body twitching and spasming.

"Ooh, Seoyeon. Just like that. That's so good," he pants, his voice heavy with lust.

Seoyeon hums in acknowledgment, sending a pleasurable vibration against his cock. She continues sucking and licking his hard shaft, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Shit, Seoyeon. You're amazing," the bartender groans, his body tensing up.

She keeps her pace and continues sucking and licking his member. The bartender seems to be getting closer and closer to climaxing, his body twitching and his cock throbbing. Suddenly, he grabs her hair and forces her head down, making her take his entire length into her mouth, taking her by surprise.

"Mbph? Mphh?!"

"Yes. Just like that. Suck that cock," he growls, his voice heavy and strained.

"Mmmh!! Mlph! Mlrgh! Mrrrh!"

She gags and coughs, but continues sucking and licking. She places her hands on his thighs, holding on tightly, determined to make him cum. In response, the bartender's hips begin thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, fuck, yes. That's it, Seoyeon. Just like that," the bartender grunts, his voice low and strained.

He continues fucking her mouth, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. The room is filled with the ecstatic sounds of Seoyeon choking and gagging on his cock, their bodies twitching and writhing.

"Shit, Seoyeon. I'm close," the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

"Mrph?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum. Get ready," he groans, his hips thrusting and spasming.

The bartender then slows his movements, letting her suck his cock at her own pace. With one hand on her head, he guides her head up and down, almost at the same pace as his', taking his member into her mouth with ease. Her tongue swirls around the tip of his member, making him grunt and groan. This synchronous motion of pure pleasure unravels in front of the camera, the erotic act being captured in all its glory.

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Keep going. I'm gonna cum," the bartender growls, his breathing erratic and labored.

"Mhmm, mmmh," Seoyeon nods, her eyes closed, her mind focused on her task.

"Here it comes! Urgh! Fuck!" the bartender cries out, his body trembling and shuddering.

Seoyeon's movements become more frantic and desperate, her pace matching the bartender's. Suddenly, the bartender grabs her head with both hands and pulls it towards his body, forcing his cock deep into her throat. She gags and chokes as his cum sprays into her mouth and down her throat, making her eyes roll back in her head.

"Hahh… Fucking hell," the bartender pants, his breathing heavy and uneven.

He thrusts a few more times, emptying his load into her mouth. You can see in Seoyeon's face that she's swallowing his thick, warm seed, not letting a single drop of it go to waste. But it seems too much for her and she pulls out, coughing and gagging, cum spilling out of her mouth.

"Mmph! Ghck! Gah!"

"Fuck! Sorry, Seoyeon. I couldn't help it," the bartender says sheepishly.

She continues to cough and splutter, the bartender patting her back.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Y-yeah. I'm… I’m fine," she replies, a bit of frustration in her voice.

"I may have overdone it," the bartender laughs, his tone light and cheerful.

"No kidding," she chuckles, her voice raspy. “You almost choked me.”

Seoyeon then swallows what's left of his cum inside his mouth, a satisfied smile on her face. He looks at her with utter awe, amazed at how a small lady like her was able to take his load.

"Fuck. That was hot," the bartender compliments her.

"Thank you," Seoyeon says, licking her lips. "That was quite fun, you know?"

The bartender nods in agreement. "Fuck… You're just making me want you even more."

Seoyeon chuckles. "Looks like someone wants more."

"What can I say? Thinking about what else you can do... It's making me crazy," he tells her, his voice husky and seductive.

She blushes and bites her lips. "I guess I'll have to find out for myself, huh?"

"I can help you with that," the bartender smirks as his hand reaches for his dick, stroking it back to life. To her amusement, it doesn’t take long before her shaft stands up on its own, tall and hard as it was.

She lets out a soft, breathless chuckle. "Well, aren't you energetic?"

"For you? It's a given," he replies, smirking.

"That flattery will get you anywhere," she grins.

"I'm sure it will," the bartender replies. "But for now…"

He suddenly leans in, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. His hand lands on one of the buttons of her blouse, ready to unclasp it. Their breathing becomes more shallow, adding to the tension in the room.

"This is where I want to be."

Seoyeon is seemingly satisfied with his response, evident in the slight curve of her lips as she looks into his eyes, anticipating his next move.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she hums, her voice soft and sultry.

The bartender's finger slowly slips through the first button, and the second one, then the third. The thrill makes Seoyeon shiver in excitement, reaching for his lips with hers. Eventually, he reaches the last one, and the bartender finally opens her blouse, revealing a red lace bra as her blouse slides down her shoulders, the thin fabric caressing her skin.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with hunger. He immediately cups one of her breasts, massaging it, his lips then trail down her neck.

"Mmmh!" Seoyeon hums, her body quivering.

He then reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, making her gasp in surprise.

"Red suits you, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice heavy with desire.

"Really now?" she chuckles, her voice low and seductive.

"I mean it. You look stunning."

She blushes. "Well, thank you—wah!"

The bartender then interrupts her by pulling off her bra, his eyes gazing upon her bare breasts. They're full and supple, perfectly proportioned for her size.

"Oh, wow…" he breathes out in wonder of the mounds of flesh before his eyes.

"Why you..." she chuckles, still shocked by his sudden move. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

The bartender smiles sheepishly and leans forward, his face hovering above her breast.

“You look good, Seoyeon,” the bartender comments, his voice dripping with lust. “They really look good.”

"They're not much, really," she shrugs, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Are you kidding? They're gorgeous," the bartender counters, his tone sincere.

"I guess..." she trails off, biting her lips.

"Do you mind if I touch them?"

"And what will you do if I don't?" she challenges him, her eyes burning with desire.

He doesn't answer her and instead proceeds to grab one of her breasts, kneading it softly.

"Mmmh," she hums, her voice heavy and sultry.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

"Maybe… For now," she answers, giggling.

His fingers pinch her nipple, a soft moan escapes her lips. His other hand then massages her other breast, making her gasp and whimper.

"Aah... Y-you're a bit rough, aren't you?" she mutters, her voice strained.

"Am I? I'll try to be gentler, then," he responds, his voice low and husky.

"Don't even try," she says, her voice hoarse and strained.

The bartender smiles and continues playing with her breasts, his movements becoming rougher and more aggressive.

"Hah! Aah!" she cries out, her body arching and shuddering.

His lips then find their way to her breasts, leaving kisses and bite marks all over them.

"S-shit," she moans, her voice quivering and weak.

"Does it feel good, Seoyeon?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"F-fuck yeah," she breathes, her voice heavy and strained.

"Do you like it when I play with these?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.

"O-of course," she moans, her voice hoarse and breathless.

"Would you like me to do it some more?"

"Fuck yes..."

"As you wish," he replies, a sly grin forming on his face.

The bartender then places both of his hands on her breasts, squeezing and groping them.

"Mmmh! Ahh!"

"Your breasts are so soft, Seoyeon," he coos as he firmly gropes them, his voice low and husky.

"Ooh! Oh f-fuck," she gasps from his touch, her voice strained and shaky.

"Tell me how it feels."

"Amazing... Mmmh, yeah," she breathes, her eyes fluttering. "I love it."

"That's good," the bartender grins, his voice low and sultry.

His lips then trail down her body, his hands exploring her curves. He eventually stops at her skirt, his fingers slowly unzipping it.

"Let's get this off, shall we?"

"Yes, please," she nods, her voice weak and breathless.

He removes her skirt and panties in one go, leaving her fully naked in front of him. He tosses it high in the air, his gaze fixed on her pussy.

"Now, that's a sight," the bartender growls at the marvelous view, his eyes wide and filled with lust.

"You like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

"You know I do," the bartender replies, his voice thick and husky.

She chuckles. "I figured you would."

He takes a step forward and runs his finger along her slit, making her whimper and squirm.

"You look breathtaking," the bartender murmurs, his eyes filled with hunger.

"Mmmh, yeah. That feels nice," she sighs, her body squirming.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his finger slowly tracing her wet folds.

"Y-yeah... I need it," she moans, her voice breathless and desperate.

"Tell me what you need," the bartender asks, grinning.

"I need you. I need you inside me," she whimpers, her face flushed and her breathing labored.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I fucking want it,” she begs, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Hmmm... Well, then,” the bartender grins, satisfied by her response.

“Please… Oh fucking please…”

Before he gives in to Seoyeon's pleas, he looks at the timer displayed on the monitor. There's less than an hour left before the challenge begins.

"Well, I guess we have some more time," the bartender tells her, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"Then why don't we make the most of it?" she asks, her voice low and seductive. She spreads her legs wide open, showing him her glistening wet folds.

"Why, that’s a good idea."

He then stands up and starts taking off his clothes, wildly throwing each piece aside. Soon, he's completely naked in front of her. Seoyeon's eyes widen and she bites her lips as she watches this display, her gaze travels along his body. She takes in his muscles and broad shoulders, his strong arms and abs, and finally, his cock, already hard and twitching.

"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Definitely," she answers with a devilish smirk.

The bartender smirks and leans forward, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers'. His hand finds its way to her hair, tangling in her long black locks.

"I can't fucking wait any longer," he growls, his voice husky and filled with lust.

"Me neither," she pants, her voice heavy and breathless.

"How do you want it, Seoyeon? How do you want me?"

She bites her lips and smiles.

"Surprise me," she challenges him.

"Oh, I intend to."

Without another word, he pushes her down, making her lay flat on her back. He then climbs on top of her and positions himself between her legs. He leans forward and grabs her wrists, pinning her down.

"Oh fuck," she breathes, her body trembling.

"Ready for this?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"Yes... Fuck me like you mean it," she commands him, her voice filled with desire.

He prepares himself, pressing his length against her wetness.

"As you wish," the bartender tells her, his voice low and husky.

Without further hesitation, he plunges his cock into her pussy, making her scream in pleasure.

"Ahh! Oh shit!"

"Yeah, that's right," the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Yes... Oh, you're so big," she groans, her voice strained and shaky.

The bartender then thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside her, making her scream in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're tight," he breathes, his eyes filled with lust.

"Mmmh, yeah... Give it to me," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

He grunts and continues pumping his cock in and out of her, his hips slamming against hers. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and convulsing.

"Ohhh... Yes, that's so good," she moans, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Liking it?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"O-oh, yes," she nods, her face flushed.

"I'll make you feel even better," the bartender promises, his voice low and sultry.

He places his hands on her waist and grips her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. He amps up his speed, pounding into her harder and faster. She gasps and arches her back, her body squirming and quivering.

"Ohh fuck... Oh fuck!" she screams, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Yeah. That's it, Seoyeon," he growls, his voice low and husky.

"Fuck... You're wrecking my—nghh!" she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

"I'm gonna destroy your pussy," the bartender tells her, his voice thick and hoarse.

"Ooh, f-fuck me..." she whimpers, her eyes rolling back.

He then grabs her legs and lifts them, making her wrap them around his waist. He thrusts his cock deeper into her, his pace relentless.

"There we go," he grunts, his voice hoarse and heavy.

"Fuck, yes! Harder!" she cries out, her body arching and spasming. "Fuck me harder!"

He continues his assault, his hips slamming against hers' repeatedly, his cock pistoning in and out of her.

"Yes... Oh fuck... Mmmh, just like that," she whimpers, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Ugh... Your pussy is getting tighter," he growls, his body tensing up.

"Y-you... Your cock..." she stutters, her words failing her.

"Yeah? You like my cock, huh?"

"I-it'sh getting... Even bigger inshide me... Mnhh," she mewls out, her voice starting to become slurry.

"Yeah. Take that fucking cock," he growls, his voice filled with desire.

"Yesh... Oh fuhg..."

Her eyes roll back, her body twitching and spasming. Seoyeon starts to drool from her mouth, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Her hands grip his arms tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Nghh... You're close, aren't you?" the bartender asks, his voice gruff and rough.

"Hngg! Oh s-shit!" she cries out, her body arching and squirming.

He suddenly slows down his pace, making her whine in frustration.

"What the fuck—Mngh?!"

He then leans forward and kisses her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. He keeps a steady pace, his cock moving in and out of her slowly, driving her mad. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and trembling.

"I fuhging lhuv dish," Seoyeon says, her words slurred, her voice barely audible.

"Oh? And what else do you love, hmm?"

"F-fuhking me... Fuhking my pushy," she tells him, her voice breathless and shaky.

"You love this, huh?" he asks, teasing her with slow yet powerful thrusts.

"Yesh... So m-mush," she moans, her voice weak and strained.

"I'll make you love it even more, then," the bartender growls as he pounds her harder, his pace becoming rougher and harder.

"Oh god... I lhuv you," Seoyeon mumbles, her voice weak.

"Mmhm. I love you too," the bartender replies, kissing her again.

Seoyeon wraps her arms around his neck, her nails clawing his skin. Her legs wrap around his waist, her heels digging into his back. The room is filled with the sounds of their flesh slapping together and their lust-filled voices, moaning and groaning as their bodies writhe and grind against each other.

"F-fuck... Oh yesh!"

"Yes. Fuck yes," the bartender growls. "You know you love it."

Despite their paces amping up, their bodies move in perfect sync. Their hips rocking against each other, their rhythm perfect. Non-fans wouldn't think it's their first time being intimate together, their actions are fluid and natural. It's a spectacle to behold.

"Fuck, fuck... Mhhh! I'm gonna..."

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon?"

"Y-yeah. I wanna cum so bad!"

"Then come," he whispers into her ear. "Come for me, Seoyeon."

"I'm... I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm c-cumming!"

Her body tenses up, her back arching. She screams in ecstasy as her orgasm hits her, her pussy clenching and convulsing as she displays another intense orgasm, her juices spraying everywhere.

"Ohh! Oh f-fuck! I-I can't stop cumming! Mmmmh!"

"Fuck yeah... Squirt all over me, Seoyeon," the bartender growls, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Her whole body trembles and shakes, her limbs flailing around uncontrollably. The immense pressure of her orgasm causes his cock to slide out of her.

"Oh, shit! I-I'm cumming again!"

"That's it. Let it all out," the bartender growls, his cock throbbing with arousal.

The petite vixen continues to scream and wail as she climaxes, her body trembling and convulsing. Her juices gush out of her pussy and splash onto the bartender's abdomen, soaking him in her sweet nectar.

"Fuck, you're incredible," the bartender tells her, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Eventually. Seoyeon's fantastic waterworks show subsides, leaving her a trembling, gasping mess. She can barely reply, her mind still hazy from her orgasms.

"Hngh... Mnhh... I..."

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he responds, his voice thick and hoarse. The bartender smiles at her, his eyes burning with hunger.

"You... Y-you're..." she mumbles, her words failing her.

"Amazing, right?"

"Y-yeah. You are..."

"Again, I aim to please."

He then leans forward and kisses her once again, softly, his lips brushing against hers. He grabs her breast and squeezes it gently, making a soft moan escape her lips. His tongue gently enters her mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting her sweet juices. Albeit weak from the multiple orgasms she just experienced, she responds in kind. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues dance around each other, their kisses deep and passionate.

"Mmmh… So good," she moans, her voice weak.

His hands roam her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts. His fingers pinch and rub her nipples, making her gasp and whimper.

"You really are gorgeous," he tells her, his voice low and husky.

"Why, you're quite the charmer yourself," she chuckles, breathless and husky.

"Only because you bring it out in me," he grins, his eyes filled with desire.

She giggles. "Why do I think it's not the first time you said that?"

"What makes you say that?" he asks, his voice heavy and seductive.

"I don't know, really," she laughs weakly. "You look like the player type."

He chuckles at her. "I promise you, I'm not a player."

"Whatever you say," she says, giggling.

"But I'd love to play with you," he tells her, his voice low and sultry.

"Mmhm. I'm sure you would," she replies, still catching her breath.

The bartender then leans forward and kisses her again, their tongues dancing around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. They lose themselves in the moment, their movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Mhnn... It's your turn, mister," Seoyeon coos, her voice low and seductive.

The bartender smiles and nods, his cock throbbing with arousal. He then carries her to the table next to them and lays her down on it. He positions himself between her legs, his cock pressed against her pussy.

"This is gonna be fun," he growls, his voice low and husky.

Seoyeon smiles at him and wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Do your worst," she tells him, her voice low and sultry.

The bartender then grabs her hips and slides his cock into her wet folds, making her gasp and whimper.

"Mmmh... Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice heavy and strained.

The bartender then begins thrusting his cock in and out of her, his pace relentless.

"Ahhh! Yes! Oh, fuck..." she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

He continues to pound into her, his hips slamming against hers. He grunts and groans as he fucks her even harder, his movements becoming faster and more frantic.

"Oh, shit! You feel so fucking good," he growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Fuck yeah... Give me that fucking cock," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

"As you wish," he growls as he amps up his speed, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Yes! Oh fuck... Yes!" she screams, her voice strained and shaky.

Her eyes roll back and her body trembles, her orgasm building up inside her.

"Fuck... Oh fuck! Sho beeg!"

The bartender laughs. "I know. You love it, don't you?"

"Yesh! Oh fuck... Yesh I lhuv ith!" she screams, her voice weak and almost incoherent.

He laughs. “I thought so."

He then places his hand on her neck, gently pressing down on her throat.

"Nghk... Mnah!" she yelps, her eyes widening.

"You like this, huh? You like when I choke you?" the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

She nods, weakly. "Oh yesh... Choke me hard—Nghh!"

He squeezes her throat tighter, making her gasp. He then leans forward and goes for another passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. Seoyeon can't help but accept it, her lips parting. Their tongues dance around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. As it happens, he revs up his pace, pounding into her harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers.

"Oh shit! Yesh! Jusht like that!" Seoyeon screams, her voice is strained and shaky.

Her body arches and spasms, her nails digging into his skin. His grip around her throat tightens as he continues to fuck her, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Ohh! Oh fuck... Yesh... Yesh! I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm cumming!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon? You wanna cum all over my cock?" the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Y-yeah... I wanna cum... Oh fuck..." she moans, her voice breathless and strained.

"Let's cum together, then," he growls as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hips slamming against hers'.

"Yesh... Oh yesh! Ghiv it to me!" she screams, her body writhing and convulsing.

"You want my cum so badly, huh?"

"Yesh, pleash!" Seoyeon begs, her voice weak and shaky. "Fill me up with your fucking cum!"

"With pleasure," he breathes out, his tone desperate.

The bartender then repositions himself, he squats on top of Seoyeon with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands on her knees, pulling her legs up against his shoulders, allowing him to thrust deeper and harder. This speed is unlike what he’s done to her earlier, this time he's more brutal and animalistic, and his grunts are guttural. Add Seoyeon's wanton screams of pleasure to the mix and it creates an audio-visual treat.

The cameras are capturing such an incredibly indecent act. It's nothing like you've seen in any porn or erotic media. It's primal, it's savage, it's visceral. It's fucking hot.

The bartender's cock pounds into her tight little pussy relentlessly, her body trembling and squirming beneath him. Her eyes roll back and her mouth opens wide in a silent scream, her orgasm building inside her.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Urgh... I'm close, Seoyeon. You ready?" the bartender grunts, his voice heavy and husky.

"Cum... Ghiv me your cum," she breathes, her voice heavy and sultry.

"You fucking slut," the bartender growls.

"Y-yesh..." she stutters, her eyes rolling back. “I’m your fucking shlut.”

He thrusts his cock into her even faster, his hips slamming against hers. He pounds her as hard as he can, his thrusts becoming rougher and more brutal. His breathing becomes more ragged and erratic, his body tensing up. While Seoyeon lets out an animalistic howl, a guttural noise from the back of her throat, the bartender grunts and groans.

"Here it comes, Seoyeon! I'm gonna—Nrgh!" the bartender growls, his eyes rolling back.

"Pleash! Oh, pleash!" Seoyeon screams, her voice hoarse and shaky.

He lets out a loud groan as his thrust his cock deeper inside her, spurting white stuff all over her pussy’s walls.

"Argh! Take it, Seoyeon!"

"Ohh! Oh fuck, yesh!" Seoyeon screams, her eyes rolling back.

After a few strong thrusts, the bartender's hips come to a sudden halt, then bucks them, as he pours his load inside her. Seoyeon can't do anything but lie there and take his load, her body twitching and shuddering, her moans hoarse and shaky.

"Ooh... Fuck yeah," the bartender groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Ahh... Your cum... Sho mush... Nghhh!" she moans, her voice low and sultry.

"So tight, Seoyeon…" the bartender whispers, his voice thick and husky.

He thrusts his cock in and out of her several more times as if milking his cock dry. Each time he withdraws, a mixture of their fluids coats his shaft before being pushed back in, creating wet sounds as the excess spills out of her.

After a while, the bartender withdraws from her, a large amount of his cum dripping out of her abused pussy. She moans and writhes as he removes himself from her warm folds. And once free, she starts to squirt uncontrollably. Her lewd juices, mixed with his seed, splattered everywhere. She moans and whimpers as she experiences an intense yet silent orgasm, her body convulsing and twitching like something similar to an X-rated movie. It's obscene and vulgar.

"Shit, you're letting out a lot," the bartender breathes.

"Ohh! O-oh god!" she cries out, her body spasming.

The bartender just chuckles and looks at her, a satisfied smile on his face.

After what might be a minute of her uncontrollable orgasm, Seoyeon collapses onto the table, gasping and panting. She's completely spent.

"Damn, that was hot," the bartender breathes.

Seoyeon desperately catches her breath, her chest heaving up and down. Her mind is hazy and cloudy, her thoughts jumbled and unfocused.

"You did great, Seoyeon," he says, patting her head.

Seoyeon doesn't respond, her eyes fluttering.

"It's okay, you can rest now," he assures her.

Suddenly, a loud ring emanates from a distance. The bartender looks at where the sound came from. The camera then switches to the view of the timer. It's up.

"Damn. Time's up," the bartender sighs.

One of the staff members can be heard speaking up.

"Mister bartender... Seoyeon... It's time for the challenge," the staff member informs them.

"Understood," the bartender nods. "However..."

He shifts his attention to Seoyeon, who's still a picture of a blissful, fucked up mess.

"I don't think she can right now," the bartender chuckles.

"But the challenge," the staff member reminds him.

"Well, I don't really have a say in this," he shrugs. "It's her challenge to do, not mine."

The rest of the staff then discuss the current situation with each other. Meanwhile, the bartender checks up on Seoyeon. He cups her cheek, causing her to open her eyes slowly.

"Hey. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle and concerned.

Seoyeon just responds with a weak smile.

"Can you still do the challenge?"

Looking disappointed, Seoyeon shakes her head, still weak.

"You'll fail the challenge if you don't do it," the bartender warns her, a calm tone to his voice.

"I—ugh... Hahh... My body's too weak to move," she admits, still catching her breath.

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "I didn't mean to get that rough."

"No, it's alright. It was fun, anyway," she tells him, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Thank you," the bartender smiles, relief evident on his face.

"I… I aim to please," she jests, a weak smirk forming on her lips.

The bartender laughs gently.

"So... Are you forfeiting the challenge?" he asks, his tone worried.

"Yeah... I guess I am," Seoyeon admits, looking down.

"That's unfortunate," he sighs.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice low and timid.

"Don't be," he replies, his voice kind and reassuring. "It's not your fault."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," she nods.

The bartender then turns to the rest of the crew, telling them what they just discussed. The staff nods in response.

"Unfortunately, Seoyeon has failed the challenge," the staff informs everyone.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Seoyeon weakly says.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," the staff member tells her. "We hope you still had fun."

"That I did," she smiles. "Thank you."

The timer on the monitor then disappears, followed by a message showing up:

"Sorry, Seoyeon. You failed the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area."

Seoyeon sighs. "That sucks."

"At least you still got to have some fun," the bartender replies.

"Fair point," she smiles. "You sure rocked my world, mister bartender."

"Why, thank you," the bartender chuckles. "But again, I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice filled with guilt.

"Again, it's fine," she reassures him, her hand reaching for his.

The bartender looks at her hand and smiles. He squeezes her hand lightly in return.

"Well, I'm sure you're still tired from all of that,"

"You got that right," she chuckles.

"Then why don't you get some rest?" he asks, his voice gentle and soothing.

She nods, weakly.

"Thank you," she smiles.

He returns the smile and gently pats her head. Cradling her in his arms, he carries her over to a nearby couch, unblemished by their earlier debauchery. As Seoyeon settles into the plush cushions, she closes her eyes and succumbs to fatigue. Sitting down beside her, the bartender's hand rests on her thigh as he observes her drifting off to sleep. Even as the video fades out, the camera manages to capture Seoyeon's captivating figure; and you can't help but admire every inch of her nude body looking serene in sleep.

A few minor adjustments and another video is ready, revealing their intimate moments for the world to see. As you wrap up the video editing, hunger finally hits you after delaying it for so long. You quickly prepare the next episode of the show before going out to grab a well-deserved meal.

Pretty sure everyone will love to see the “captain” in action.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

Another Spotlighting chapter down and many more to go! Thinking of a plot is easy with Seoyeon, but executing it is what's challenging. Not only am I clueless about her drinking habits, but I'm also clueless how people "make love in this club". 😅 So I might have to apologize if some (if not most) parts of the story are hard to read. Though I still hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter nonetheless.

And again... I would like to thank @digipigichopshop for lending his time in helping me writing this one. As well was @braaan for this really awesome poster. This might be my favorite so far, to be honest. I like what you did with the spotlight effect. 👍

Once more, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #fromis9smut #seoyeonsmut #leeseoyeonsmut

164 notes · View notes

pennylanewrites · 11 months

Text

sur le fil [levi ackerman x f!reader]

chapter 1: la vie en rose

moving to paris, you get to meet a set of interesting neighbours; one talkative, bubbly, exciting and kind. one reserved, serious and tortured. the first will be your guide through life in paris; the latter, you soon find out is your colleague.

a/n: reader, hange, moblit and petra are 24-25 years old. erwin and levi are both 28 in this fic. erwin gets introduced soon so dw heheh

masterpost | next

packing up your whole life and moving to paris was sort of on a whim. you really only realized it when you were on the plane, and you could spot the eiffel tower, the arc de triomphe, the notre dame. oh, you were going to have so much fun.

it wasn't hard to find your new home -after taking a taxi and two buses from the airport. you had booked a room from an old lady living in a haussmannian building. three rooms were already occupied, and a kitchen, common room, library and terrace were included in the low price of 250€ per month. you assumed that the old lady simply wanted company; it wasn't easy to find something that cheap, right in the heart of paris.

"madame dubois, so nice to meet you!" you greeted the lady rushing out of the building with a handshake, but she opted for a hug and a kiss on each cheek instead. how european.

"call me paulette, darling, please." paulette was pushing 70, tall, slim and stylish. she held a slim cigarette between fingers decorated with gold rings; she wore a long linen shirt over matching pants and ballerina shoes. very french, you thought, as you followed her inside.

as you stepped inside, you were greeted by high ceilings, ornate moldings, and large windows that allow an abundance of natural light to fill the rooms. the kitchen, located at the heart of the house, had marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and custom-made sage-coloured cabinets. you could tell you would have a lot of fun in this kitchen. as you left the room, you noticed a wide selection of teas, a whole countertop in fact, dedicated to them. adjacent to the kitchen was the common room, knick-knacks and books filling every surface and empty corner. The baby-blue coloured room was adorned with plush beige and off-white furniture, intricate chandeliers, and a majestic fireplace, creating a cozy and sophisticated atmosphere. the library, opposite to the living room, housed an extensive collection of books, with floor-to-ceiling shelves that exuded an air of intellectual refinement. a cozy reading nook by the window invited you to spend many afternoons with a cup of coffee and your nose in a book.

"your room is on the first floor, along with two more. then there’s mine and one more on the third, and of course the terrace, that you’re free to use whenever.” you were admiring the paintings on the walls as paulette guided you to the first floor and to the second door on the left. you wondered who the other two rooms were occupied from, but you guessed you would find out soon.

paulette unlocked the white door and handed you the key. you entered into a mainly beige and lavender-coloured room, small but efficient; the boxes you had packed were sitting in front of the bed, arriving just before you. a double bed with two nightstands stood in the middle, a large wooden dresser on the side, with intricate golden details. two wicker sitting chairs by the window and an empty desk and small bookcase. paulette was showing you the bathroom, but you were too busy admiring the notre dame from your dusty window. despite it being half-burnt, it remained beautiful.

“my room is on the top floor to the right. anything you want, i’m just a knock away.”

“thank you. you said something about other people leaving here?”

“oh, yes! moblit lives on the third floor, he’s a nice and quiet guy. zoe lives right across from you, she’s a little feisty, i guess.”

“and next door?”

you swore paulette’s face dropped when you asked.

“oh, that would be levi, my nephew. he’s a bit…reserved.” was all paulette said about your mysterious neighbour before leaving you to unpack.

you fell on the bouncy mattress and let out a content sigh. the ceiling above you had a cracked lavender and lilac tapestry with golden swirls. the walls matched it perfectly, and the curtains, though faded, were a beige to match the wood of the furniture.

why unpack now? the sun was setting and a deep purple hue played on your stretched legs. you grabbed your purse and headed for the terrace, but your journey was cut short by a loud screech.

“levi, give me my key!”

“i don’t have your key, you lost it, you idiot.” the manly voice came from next door, you noticed. you decided to step out carefully.

a tall woman turned to look at you through round glasses.

“bonsoir! we didn’t know you were coming tonight!”

“hi! zoe, right? i’m y/n.” you took a few steps back when the brunette attacked you with a warm, tight hug.

“pleasure! are you heading for the terrace? that’s the first thing i did when i came here too.”

“seems like a cozy place for a cigarette.”

“you read my mind.” she turned to your other neighbour’s door again. “levi, sors de ta chambre!” come out of your room, your high school french classes came to your rescue.

as you waited for the mysterious neighbour, you inspected zoe. her rich, chocolate-brown hair cascading down her shoulders, framed her face and round golden glasses. she wore a flowing, forest green and brown maxi dress with intricate patterns that catch the eye. completing her ensemble, she adorned herself with eclectic accessories. a collection of beaded bracelets adorned her wrists, each one telling a story of its own. around her neck hung two pendants, a round blue evil eye, and a wooden symbol of piece. her ears were filled with gold studs and the picture ended with pink delicate feather-shaped earrings, whispering a hint of whimsy.

“hange, i just came home. what could you possibly-”

“we have a new neighbour, levi. remember?” zoe motioned at you with her head and a smile, obviously not caring that she was interrupting the man’s personal time.

“okay?”

wow. rude.

“so, you should come to the terrace for a smoke. maintenant.” now.

you expected the man to slam the door in her face, but he stepped back in to grab his jacket, and came back out.

levi stood at average height, with sleek black hair reaching his nape, a fresh undercut showing underneath and a few strands shaping his face and accentuating his piercing gray eyes. he was wearing a fitted maroon t-shirt and dark gray jeans, the look finishing with all black vans and the black leather jacket in his hand. you noticed a tattoo hiding under the sleeve of his shirt. interesting.

“hi, i’m y/n. it's so nice to-”

“levi. pleasure.”

“for fuck’s sake.”

“what? i said pleasure.”

"okay,sure. go make us some tea. y/n, how do you drink yours?" you looked between the pair. why did it feel like they were about to judge whatever you said next?

"oh, i don't really like..." you trailed off because levi had only rolled his eyes at you before storming down the stairs, mumbling in french. you followed zoe to the top floor. a pair of white french doors opened to a spacious terrace, with a set of wicker couches, cozy floor pillows and a tarp-covered bar. all kinds of flowers filled the corners and a vegetable garden took up most of the space on the left.

"you'll have to forgive levi. he's a bit..."

"uptight?" zoe snorted at your comment, and you had a feeling she agreed.

"passionate about tea. he's going to bring you a cup anyway. levi has a recipe for every kind of person, and he's certain he can make everyone like it."

you took out a pack of marlboro golds and offered one to zoe. she politely declined, opening a leather pocket of tobacco to roll her own cigarette.

"so, what brings you to paris?"

i had to run away from everything and everyone in my life.

"oh, it was just time for a change. i had enough money saved up, so i thought why not?" zoe lied down on the couch opposite you and nodded in acknowledgement. "what about you? have you lived here long?"

"levi and i were born and raised in lyon. we moved here around seven years ago, for college."

"what did you study?"

architecture.

"the plan was liberal arts, but i changed to architecture my second year."

bingo.

"i never finished college. i was a history and archaeology major, but it never really...spoke to me, you know?" you put the cigarette out on the clay ashtray on the table, "so, i attended a few barista and bartending seminars, and i actually fell in love with it."

"you don't say...have you got a job yet? i'm pretty sure the café down the street is looking for someone." you could faintly see the shop zoe was talking about in the distance.

"oh, i already found something nearby. i'm starting tomorrow."

"thats brilliant, i'll have to-oh, levi, you're here!" levi stepped out to the terrace, skillfully holding up a tray with three cups. he placed an intricate one in front of you; it was a midnight purple, square mug with engraved golden stars and constellations all over. you held the steaming mug and smiled gratefully at levi. you could smell raspberry, apple and-

"tell her what it is!" zoe jumped up and down excitedly, spilling some of the hot liquid on her dress and phone. "putain." she exclaimed and wiped her phone screen on the couch pillow.

"it's black tea with raspberry syrup, apple, lemon and rhubarb."

"excellent choice of a cup too." zoe poked his side with her elbow. "what's mine, shortie?"

"it's piss." you snorted into your cup, blowing some of the liquid on your lap. you hissed and wiped it away quickly, looking up at the bickering pair.

you brought the cup to your lips, tasting it carefully. you almost winced; it was the sourest tea imaginable, and if not for the syrup, it would be bitter too. you had to admit, you got used to it after a couple of sips, and you liked it enough to keep drinking.

"did levi magically change your opinion on tea?"

"this is really nice," you looked up at levi. his gray eyes didn't leave yours as he took a sip of his own tea, "but i'm a coffee person. sorry." you smiled softly.

"if you like bean water, sure." he scoffed.

"as opposed to leaf water?" you retorted.

why the fuck is he holding the cup like that? show-off.

zoe looked between the two of you, grinning. the comfortable silence was cut short by two message notifications. you and levi took your phones out at the same time.

-you have been added to Le Café Belle Époque’s group chat

-unknown number has been added to Le Café Belle Époque’s group chat

you and levi slowly looked up at each other.

“you’re the new barista?” he scoffed.

“you…work there too?” you looked at the members of the group chat. indeed, a picture of levi sat by an unsaved number on your phone. zoe peeked over levi’s shoulder to look at his texts.

"aha! this is very exciting, n'est-ce pas?"

you had seven different words in mind to describe this, and exciting was not one of them.

waking up in your new bed, in your little room in the heart of paris, felt like waking up in a disney movie. birds were chirping outside of your window, and a few stray sunrays hit the wooden floor. with a stretch of your arms and a yawn, you looked around at the sea of boxes and suitcases. you really needed to unpack.

after searching for your summer clothes, you finally opted for a pair of white jean shorts, a flowy muted-olive shirt with thin straps and your favorite brown sandals, that strapped around your feet and ankles. you brushed your teeth and hair, and placed mascara on your eyelashes carefully. a warm-toned lipstick finished your look, and you started your voyage to the kitchen with a box in your hands.

damn you paris, with your steep staircases, you tried looking over the box to watch your step, but it was impossible.

"woah, let me help with that." you were met with a pair of dark brown eyes behind rectange glasses.

"thanks." you accepted the offer and walked behind the strange man.

"where are we heading?"

"kitchen."

the man finally set the box down on the round kitchen table, slapping the top of it.

"moblit berner. it's nice to meet you, y/n."

"how did you...?" you shook his hand with furrowed brows. moblit was wearing a well-pressed, tailored navy blue suit, a light blue dress shirt underneath and leather oxfords.

"zoe told me all about you last night. i apologize for the late introduction, but i came home after midnight." he watched as you took a polished red, vintage looking espresso machine out, placing it on the counter right by the outlet. "retro. does, uh, does levi know about the new addition to the kitchen?" moblit laughed awkwardly. you unrolled the cups you had wrapped in paper in your box and gave them a quick rinse, before setting them on top of the machine.

"i couldn't care less. paulette told me i can keep this here." you shrugged and filled the water tank. "want some coffee?"

"yes, please. the only drinks in this house all these years have been tea and alcohol." you pressed ground-up espresso in the group, and waited for the machine to warm up.

"what kind of coffee?"

"surprise me. i like it sweet, with a lot of milk. there's some almond milk in the fridge, so please use that." moblit sat down and lit a cigarette. you inspected levi's selection of syrups, powders and leaves.

"you don't think he'll mind, do you?" you held up a bottle of lavender syrup.

"it will be our little secret. better safe than sorry." you nodded and poured the syrup in the milk, frothing it while the espresso poured into a cup.

"so, where do you work, moblit?"

"i'm a reporter for libération, a news-"

"left-leaning newspaper, i know. i loved that piece on macron, the one comparing the marches to the french revolution?" you placed the cup in front of moblit, who accepted with a grateful smile.

"i wrote that one."

"of course! i thought your name sounded familiar." you chuckled and turned to make your own iced coffee.

"will we be seeing you at the café tonight?"

“i don’t know if i’m working a full shift yet. i’m only going to meet the managers and get an idea of the bar.”

“well, you’ve met one of them already.”

“levi’s a manager?” you rolled your eyes and sipped on your coffee.

“assistant. but he basically runs the place, he’s in charge of the menu, prices, schedule…” moblit grinned. “except for the new hires.”

“guess that’s why he was so surprised yesterday.”

“surprised is an understatement.”

“huh? wait, what did he say?” your eyebrow perked up. moblit just shook his head and got up to leave.

“thanks for the coffee, y/n. see you tonight!” defeated, you sat back on your chair. you slid it closer to the window and opened it wide. a warm breeze hit your face, and you smiled contently.

the rest of your day was spent unpacking, finding a space for every one of your knick-knacks and clutter. you managed to fit all of your books on the three shelves, finishing the image with some fairy lights hanging over them. most of your clothes fit in the dresser, but the rest were left in the suitcase. you really needed to buy some storage boxes soon.

it was now 2:30 in the afternoon, and after taking a warm shower, you desperately needed to eat. you sat on your bed, a towel wrapped around your hair, and pulled your phone out to search for a place to eat.

knock knock.

“come in.” you yelled out and looked behind your phone. zoe came in, looking around your room. she looked different; a tight bun sat at the bottom of her head and a classy white pantsuit hugged her body, before flaring down her calves.

“wow, nicely done. it took me two years to unpack when i got here…hey, what time do you leave for work?”

“i have to be there at six.”

“great! want to grab a bite with me? i’ll even throw in a little tour of our neighbourhood if you make me some coffee later.”

“deal.”

zoe brought you to a small, family owned restaurant cornering a main street. you watched as people walked, playing a guessing game of who was coming back from work, who was late for lunch, who had just had a fight with their partner. people-watching was a favourite of yours. it made you remember you weren’t alone in the world, that other people too had issues and feelings.

“do you eat meat, y/n? they make killer steaks here.”

“oh, i love a good steak.”

“excellent! how about i order for you?”

“yes, please.”

the waiter came to the table soon after, leaving a complimentary basket of warm bread and a butter spread.

“we’ll have two of your bavette à l’échalote, a portion of fries for the table and…two glasses of malbec please.” zoe handed the menu to the waiter and quickly attacked the bread.

“this is my favourite restaurant. it has been in the renard family for almost a century, and their recipes are practically unchanged. now, if you kindly look up, you will see my office on the top floor. i have a kicking view of the notre dame, which is…five minutes from here.” she pointed down the main road. you listened as she explained the secrets of the neighbourhood, the quirky owner of the office building, the drama between the two restaurants opposite each other.

you were so hungry when the dishes finally arrived in front of you, but you let hange do a demonstration of the dish.

“so, skirt steak. they cut it up in pieces so you can pour the sauce between them,” she spooned the golden, buttery sauce over your steak, “and i like to add it to the roasted vegetables too.” she poured the rest of it over the vegetables on the side. “and the rest you use to dip your fries!” she said excitedly, leaving the dip bowl next to the warm salted fries.

“bon appétit.” you raised the glass of red wine, clinking it with zoe’s.

after the delightful lunch, you leaned back on your chair, full and ready to go. you and zoe smoked two cigarettes each over one more glass of wine, before leaving for the café.

“are you nervous?”

“not really, i’ve done this too many times.”

“i would be. levi hates training new people.”

“good thing i don’t need training then.” you giggled and entered the café. a warm smell of cinnamon hit you, and the jazz music created a warm atmosphere around vintage furniture, a sleek dark blue bar with a marble top and the alcohol selection of your dreams.

“you’re late.” levi appeared behind the counter, startling you. you checked the clock on your phone.

“i’m 15 minutes early.”

“that’s still 5 minutes late.” he crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at you. “are you coming in here or what?”

you sighed and walked around the counter. the first thing you did was wash your hands thoroughly. levi appreciated that, but only gave a nod of approval as he walked you through the bar.

“you will be on evening shift for the time being, so here’s the old drinks menu. you’re free to change everything, except for the classic cocktails.”

“great! the last bar i was working, i experimented with tea-based cocktails, so i would like to add that. am i okay to stay after closing and use the bar for practice?”

“tea-based!” zoe exclaimed. you had almost forgotten she was there.

“tea-based.” levi repeated and you had a feeling he would explode then and there.

“ha! his eye is twitching! good one, y/n.”

“anyway, i’m adding that. i also want to make some additions to the coffee menu.” you looked over to the tea corner. “can i use the powders and syrups?”

“you’re going to add flowers and fruit in coffee?”

“is there a problem?” you didn’t even turn around to look at levi. instead, you took a pen and paper and noted down changes for the coffee menu.

“anyway. you can check the prices here, since it’s still the start. the waitresses will help you with anything else, so…”

“so?”

“show me what you got, rookie.” levi leaned back on the counter, with a challenging grin. rookie my ass, who does this guy think he is?

“ooh, ooh! make me an iced coffee, and use like, all the syrups you can.” zoe slammed her hand on the counter.

“you got it.” you prepared two shots of espresso. while that was pouring, you took a shaker, pouring coconut milk, a tablespoon of elderflower syrup and one of vanilla syrup over ice. you shook it around masterfully, making a show for zoe and levi. when the espresso was done, you mixed in a teaspoon of sugar. taking a tall glass, you filled it to the middle with ice and added the milk mixture. you poured the espresso over it, mixing it with a tall spoon carefully.

“whipped cream?” you asked and levi pointed at the fridge under the sink. you spotted a bowl of edible flowers and grabbed it as well. you placed a coaster in front of hange and the glass, spooning some of the handmade cream on top. you took the pinching tool and added three small flowers over the cream.

“et voilà!”

zoe clapped excitedly, accepting the long straw you handed her. she took a big sip, closing her eyes in delight.

“y/n, this is the best thing that has ever been in my mouth.” she wiggled around on the stool.

“i feel offended.” moblit appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around zoe and leaving a kiss on her temple.

huh, i guess they’re dating, you thought.

the café wasn’t really busy, so you spent the next hour making different coffees and teas, for levi to ensure you know what you’re doing. zoe had insisted to drink all of them, so you wouldn’t have to throw them away.

“hange, you’ll spend a week in the toilet if you drink all of those.” levi tried taking the cups away, but zoe guarded them in front of her.

“the toilet happens to be my happy place. maybe i want to stay there for a week.” she made sure to drink a sip from all of them, just to spite levi.

“if you cleaned once in a while, it would be a safe place too.” you chuckled at levi’s remark.

a wave of customers rushed in, and the waiters sent order after order. it was a hectic hour and a half, but by nine o’clock, you had time to clean up the machine and your counter.

“okay, welcome to the team, i guess.” levi shoved a golden name tag and a black half-apron in your arms.

“wow, warm welcome.”

“watch it.” levi grabbed his stuff and walked around the bar. he turned to zoe. “i have to pick petra up from work, do you guys want to do something later?”

“just come back here! we can all try the new cocktail menu.” hange pushed him to the door before he could decline and came back to the bar.

“can i take these away now?” you pointed at the sea of cups and glasses in front of her.

“please do. i feel like i’m going to explode.”

“you really like to get on his nerves, don’t you?” you laughed as she nodded furiously.

“zoe has to make levi have a nervous breakdown at least once a week.” moblit commented. after everything was cleaned, you could finally calm down and work on the cocktail menu. you spotted a small blackboard sitting behind the fridge. you grabbed it and the packet of chalks and handed it to moblit.

“you look like you have nice handwriting. please write these names down for me.”

“what’s in it for me?”

“pick one and i’ll make it for you. on the house.” you grinned as moblit wrote the menu down. zoe made sure to include a few doodles of flowers and a smiley face before setting it on top of the bar, where everyone could spot it.

it was midnight when you had to cut zoe off alcohol and levi walked in, hand in hand with a petite brunette. the girl had a sleek bob with short bangs, and wore a silk pink dress that hugged her waist and thighs. an oversized brown leather jacket, a pink leather crossbody bag and brown combat boots finished the look. her makeup was the perfect mix of edgy and sweet, with a smoky eye, red cheeks and a nude lipstick. the girl greeted zoe with a hug, wincing when the strong smell of gin hit her.

“control your woman, moblit.” she joked and kissed both his cheeks before sitting down. levi took her jacket along with his and handed them to you to place behind the counter. “so, you’re y/n. a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. i’m petra.”

“pleasure.” you smiled as you served two drinks on the sidebar.

“see, she looks just fine.” levi rolled his eyes at the girl. “levi was under the impression that you would crack under the pressure and run off.”

“levi should know that i have been doing this for four years. i’m not that easy to crack.” you placed two coasters and two glasses of water in front of them.

“what are you having?”

“i want…to try one of those famous cocktails.” she pointed at the blackboard.

“famous?” you furrowed your brows.

“oh, levi talked my ear off for hours about them. you’ll have to forgive him. his old age won’t let him accept change and evolution.” she kissed his cheek after the comment, but he only sighed. “anyway, i’ll have the earl grey martini. amour?” she turned to levi, who barely looked at her.

“whiskey sour.”

“one chamomile whiskey sour coming up!”

“i said, whiskey sour.” zoe, moblit and petra were stuck looking between the two of you. you guessed levi wasn’t known for his temper. but, oh, you wanted to crack him so bad. it was so satisfying seeing his neck and ears turn red with annoyance.

“i heard you.” you hummed as you made the brunette’s cocktail in a dainty martini glass.

“so, make that.”

“but i already steeped the chamomile. it would be a waste of perfect tea.” you pouted as you poured the tea over ice. you flipped a short glass over and placed it on the bartop. a strainer on top, you poured the contents in, sliding it to the ravenette.

“just try it, cheri.”

levi brought the glass to his lips in the same stupid way he held onto that cup of tea yesterday. his gray piercing eyes never left yours, and you grinned when his expression fell. he liked it. the fucker liked it, because he took another, full sip, before sliding the glass back to you.

"i asked for a whiskey sour.” this was revenge because you didn’t like his stupid tea. you mumbled something he couldn’t hear over the music, as you made a new cocktail for him.

despite levi's eyes burning holes in you for what felt like hours, the night was going well. you got to know petra and moblit better, work was flowing nicely and a full jar of tips sat on the counter. guess people liked the new, not grumpy, bartender.

taglist: @belovedackerman @bibemiiu @thisisketchy @ch-4-s-3 @kingfleury

156 notes · View notes

underscar · 7 months

Text

THE SCULPTURE & THE SCULPTOR

Pairing: Makima/Female Reader

Summary: The sun was slowly setting on a brisk evening, casting a golden-orange glow over the bustling streets. The air was crisp and cool, signalling the beginning of autumn, and the leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of auburn. You met her that fall evening, and fell in love that October. Warm sunlight elapsed your memories and your love story with Makima and it all felt like a dream, until it erupted into a nightmare. The phrase "separating the artist from the art" is one that dates back long ago. Both the art and the artist can be seen as their own entities; yet, the artist has the control and power to destroy that oeuvre.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST

A/N: finished this oneshot. was shorter then i expected it to be but that’s alright. as always, i’ve been occupied with school and work and volunteering and just…life.

WORD COUNT // 3209 words

The sun was slowly setting on a brisk evening, casting a golden-orange glow over the bustling streets. The air was crisp and cool, signaling the beginning of autumn, and the leaves on the trees had started to turn shades of auburn.

The streets were packed with people going about their daily business. Groups of students hurried home after their after-school activities and cram school, their backpacks slung over their shoulders and their uniforms crumpled from a long day of studying and play.

Workers in suits walked with purpose, their briefcases in hand, eager to catch the earliest subway home to their families. Their fatigue expressions spoke of long hours spent in the office, but they soldiered on, determined to make it home to their loved ones.

And amidst the sea of people were others, simply out to get their shopping done before the night fully set in. The bright lights of the shops and neon signs illuminated the streets, beckoning shoppers to come in and browse their wares.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the city transformed. The neon signs grew brighter, casting colorful shadows on the pavement. The streets became livelier, with people pouring out of restaurants and bars, ready to enjoy the night ahead. Despite the crowds and noise, there was a sense of peace and harmony in the air.

Tokyo was a city that never slept, but on this fall evening, it seemed to slow down just enough for everyone to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the changing season.

The multiple chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling of the pet shop also casted a warm, golden glow over the store, giving it an almost magical quality.

The shop was located just a few blocks away from your apartment in the bustling city of Tokyo, and you often found yourself wandering in on lazy evenings to browse the various pet supplies and see the cute cats and dogs. The puppies specifically were your favorite.

Today, you found yourself standing in the soap aisle, surrounded by an array of colorful bottles and containers. You were looking for a special shampoo for your new puppy, a fluffy golden retriever that you had adopted a few weeks ago, disregarding your father's displeasure. The recent adoption makes your dog duo now a trio.

As you scanned the shelves, you noticed a woman with reddish hair knitted in a braid standing a few feet away, examining a bottle of dog shampoo. A brand you recognized. She was dressed in a stylish outfit, a suit that was as sleek as a cats coat, along with a trench coat that didn’t drown her form, yet instead curved it like a cape, all complete with a perfume that smelled so strong, like greek gardens in heaven.

“That brand is rather cheap,” you blurt out. The snobby words escaped your lips unnoticed.

She turned to you with a raised eyebrow, her expression conveying a mix of surprise. “Pardon me?”

You suddenly realized how snobby and rude your comment sounded, that you even spoke at all. You didn't even know this woman, and here you were, making assumptions about her shopping choices. Feeling embarrassed, you cover your face and you quickly tried to backtrack.

“Um - uh, well this is,” you stop yourself from stuttering and clear your throat. “I actually had to return it recently. Both of my retrievers had an…uh,” you lower your voice, “really bad skin infection after using the soup. I just would never recommend it.”

The woman's expression softened slightly, but she still looked a bit guarded. "I understand," she said coolly. “But just because a product is bad doesn’t typically relate to its affordability, does it not?”

You looked down at your purse, feeling shameful. “Ah, slip of the tongue. My apologies. I misspoke.”

As a child of affluent and politically influential parents, you were constantly surrounded by privilege and power. From the lavish parties and exotic vacations to the private schools and exclusive clubs, your life was a far cry from that of the average person. However, despite the obvious perks of your upbringing, you often found yourself feeling like an outsider, rather than fitting in with those around you.

Perhaps it was the fact that you stood out from the crowd with your designer clothes, expensive technology, and sleek cars. Or maybe it was the subtle differences in your upbringing that made you feel out of place, like the way your parents talked about politics over dinner, or the fact that they were always traveling to meet with world leaders and dignitaries. Whatever the reason, you worried that people saw you as snobby or spoiled, simply because of your background. And to be honest, there were times when you felt like those labels were justified, just like now.

The women smiled. “You’re cute.”

Your face instantly burned with embarrassment.

You weren't sure how to respond, and you wondered if she was flirting with you. You looked up shakily from your purse, your eyes then meeting hers. You gasped when you noticed her exotic eyes. They were a striking yellow color, with multiple red rings within them. For a moment, you were mesmerized by their beauty, forgetting your embarrassment and confusion, being hypnotized.

Nevertheless, as the woman's stare became apparent, you realized that you had no idea how to respond to her comment. You stammered out a few awkward words, trying to come up with an explanation for your sudden embarrassment, but nothing feasible came out.

She quirked her head. “Also slip of the tongue. Apologies.”

She then stuck out her hand to you. “I’m Makima. You?”

Your lip quivered as you spoke her name. “Makima…”

The moment you told her your name, you had become hers.

You embarked on your relationship the following October, and it was during that same month that you found yourself falling deeply in love accompanied by autumn weather.

“Moving fast in your relationship”—your father spat. He wasn’t wrong, but you were loving every moment and day under Makima.

You and Makima spent countless evenings together, her walking you down the vibrant streets of Tokyo, discovering hidden gems, and indulging in the city's rich culture. She effortlessly unveiled a side of the city that had eluded you in your privileged upbringing. Not only were the experiences enchanting, but it was Makima herself who drew you closer. Her magnetic aura captivated you from the moment you met. Makima's intelligence, wit, and care for dogs made you constantly crave her company. She destroyed your perspective, forced you to question your assumptions, and told you to embrace the beauty of imperfection.

As your relationship deepened, Makima entrusted you with a secret—she was a devil hunter. Although she didn't reveal the specifics of her career, you knew she held a high position and enjoyed the benefits that came with it, evident in her lifestyle and the numerous dogs under her care. She had a contract with a Devil, but she didn't disclose the details of this arrangement, nor did she want you to be involved in her dangerous work. Respectful of her wishes, you refrained from prying for more information.

Instead, Makima had you to stay at home and keep your relationship separate from her professional life. Since you had never worked before and your parents supported your financial needs, it seemed reasonable for you to take on the responsibility of caring for her pack of dog, along with your two, now in Makima's home. After all, she had generously moved you into her house. You willingly embraced this role and followed Makima's instructions, appreciating the opportunity to contribute in your own way while living under her roof.

Thus each day fell into a rhythm.

Mornings arrived with the stirrings of sunlight, coaxing you from slumber. Always when you woke up, you were alone. In the corner of your eye you would see the bathroom light on underneath the door, where you could hear water running. This signalling Makima getting dressed. She always woke up early before you could register her leaving the bed at all. In order to not disturb her, you would use the guest bathroom.

Then, afterwards, you’d go downstairs and start to prepare breakfast for you and the hoard of dogs, their wagging tails adding cheer to the steaming kitchen. Makima however never ate breakfast at home, despite her waking up early enough to eat, she always left for work without doing so. Subsequently, as plates were made, Makima would come downstairs, to the dogs and your excitement.

Makima, adorned in her immaculate devil hunter suit and trench-coat, would depart early for her duties, her presence exuding confidence and purpose. Before leaving, she would grace you with a tender farewell before sealing it with a kiss. "Be good," she would softly utter as she crossed the threshold. To whom those words were directed remained a mystery—once you pondered if they were intended for your exuberant four-legged friends gathered by the doorway or if, in a strange twist, they were meant for you?

Once Makima embarked on her work and you found yourself confined within the walls of her home, the hours stretching ahead, blank canvases awaiting strokes of purpose from the artist—you the canvas. Yet, a familiar pattern emerged as her absence settled in.

Thoughts, ceaseless and unrestrained, flooded your mind, overwhelming you, akin to a tumultuous storm brewing within. Pondering became second nature, almost synonymous with migraines. Your rumination meandered through various facets of you and Makima’s relationship, occasionally interrupted with words of your father.

Primarily, your thoughts gravitated towards Makima—inevitable, for love held you captive in this home. In her presence, the mental restlessness waned, and your mind found solace in the assurance she exuded. Thinking less was effortless when she was near, her mere existence a balm for your turbulent thoughts. She found your thoughts cute, thoughts worried so much for her sake.

Your relationship continued to winter, and winter was cold and bleak.

"I'm scared," you admit, your voice filled with trepidation.

The reality of Makima's career as a devil hunter was something that had taken a toll on you more than you had initially anticipated. At first, you had been intrigued by her strength and determination, admiring her for her ability to face the darkness of the world you lived in head-on. However, as time passed, you began to see the darker side of her world, and it started to affect you in ways I hadn't imagined. Death seemed to linger around Makima like a shadow, both in her professional and personal life.

The constant threat of powerful devils and dangerous missions weighed heavily on her shoulders, and that weight often spilled over into your relationship. The nights when she returned from a particularly gruelling battle, covered in blood and forsaken things, were nights filled with worry and fear from yourself. You couldn't help but imagine the worst and dread the possibility of losing her.

But it wasn't just the physical dangers that troubled you. No, it was the emotional toll of her work. The secrets she had to keep, the compromises she had to make, and the people she had to sacrifice for the greater good of her cause began to gnaw at your conscience. It amazed you how she kept herself so disciplined and stable despite it all. Work, with its constant demands and unpredictable hours, easily seeped into you and Makima’s home life.

There were nights when she would receive urgent phone calls, forcing her to abandon our plans, which she did with ease. Though you would lie if you said it did not leave you feeling neglected and alone. Alone constantly in this home, lost with your anxieties and thoughts.

Makima raises an eyebrow, her expression curious. "Oh. Scared of what, my dear?”

"I'm scared of…losing you, Makima," you confess, your words laced with vulnerability. "Lately, it feels like our relationship isn't a,” the fear of possibly offending her scared you more than anything, “uh, priority to you.” You used that word carefully.

Makima's gaze intensifies as she considers your words. "So, you believe I should reassess my priorities?” she asked. “And you think you’re a priority? Is that what you’re saying?”When she worded it like that you felt awful and belittled.

You stumble over your words. "I... I mean, we're dating, and... I just want to feel like we matter to each other.” You were sheepish, like a school girl.

Makima held her chin high, looking down at you through her long lashes. "Darling, don't be afraid to express yourself. If that's how you feel, I want to understand.”

You let out a shaky sigh, your voice filled with resignation. "I understand you're busy, Makima. I just don't… want you to stress yourself too much." You force yourself to say these words to please her and in a way, end this.

“Good. I’ll make sure not to.”

The winter winds howled and pounded against the windows, rattling the panes and sending shivers down your already tense spine. The room was bathed in the soft, flickering light of the fireplace, its crackling providing a comforting contrast to the harshness of the outside world and the void that was inside this distant home. The room was in a void of silence until Makima broke it.

"Look at me," she states, her eyes fixed on the book placed in her hands.

For some reason, despite your dismay, you do what she says easily and look into her eyes.

In the corner of your eye, you could see a flicker of understanding passing through Makima's eyes as she reaches out to gently touch your hand. "I hear you," she murmurs softly. "I may have been preoccupied, but I assure you, our relationship matters to me."

A glimmer of hope ignites within you as you meet her gaze fully. "Really?"

She nods, her expression sincere.

As you take in her words, a sense of reassurance washes over you. Perhaps, in this moment of honesty and vulnerability, you and Makima could strengthen your love. “I love you,” you say with no thought but with hope.

Before she could respond to your heartfelt declaration, a familiar tone chimed from her phone, interrupting the moment like a cruel déjà vu. You hold in a resigned sigh as Makima swiftly rose from her seat, reaching for her trench coat and draping around her, shielding her from the unforgiving cold that seemed to have no effect on her. It was a stark reminder that her duty called her away once more, leaving you alone and vulnerable to the haunting thoughts that seemed to shadow your every moment.

With the slam of the door, she disappeared into the night, and you watched her silhouette retreat into the darkness, a sense of loneliness creeping in. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, a feeling you had faintly hoped would change after the discussion you just had, a recurring ache that accompanied her absence. Once again, you found yourself left alone with your thoughts, the crackling fireplace the only company in this wintry night, its warmth unable to completely dispel the chill that had settled deep within you.

Whining, your pack of dogs circled around your dejected figure, their eyes filled with concern, their tails arched down, dejected.

As you sat there, alone, a whisper escaped your lips, barely audible, “I wonder…if I’ve made a mistake.”

Spring had arrived with its characteristics of humidity and warmth and the scent of freshly brewed coffee, but for you, it brought not the promise of new beginnings but the sting of heartbreak.

You had chosen this place for its cozy ambiance, hoping to find comfort in each other's presence. It had been so long since you both had went on a date, after all, Makima was dedicated to her work, and you spent your whole free time, home alone. But as the conversation grew heavier, the air around you seemed to thicken, and the pleasant background noise became a distant murmur.

Makima's words cut through the serene setting like a bolt of lightning. "Let's end things."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing. The gentle clinking of coffee cups and the chatter of other patrons seemed to fade into the background. Your voice trembled as you choked out a bewildered, "What?"

Makima's expression remained cool and detached, as if the weight of her words held no emotion at all. "Yes," she repeated, her voice devoid of tenderness, she rubbed her chin, as if she hadn’t decided already, "we'll end this...relationship."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break down in the middle of the coffee shop. The woman you loved, who had once meant the world to you, now felt distant and unfeeling.

"Consider this a good deed on my part," she continued, her tone as indifferent as ever. "You were an obedient girlfriend, ______. Be proud."

As her words settled in, you felt a sense of betrayal and loss wash over you. The cozy coffee shop had transformed into a backdrop for your heartbreak, the world around you now irrelevant as you grappled with the end of a love that had once seemed unbreakable. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you couldn't contain the rush of emotions any longer. Your hand moved to cover your face, fingers trembling as you tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The coffee shop around you faded into the background as your grief and sorrow spilled into your trembling hand.

Makima watched you silently, sipping the dark coffee, her gaze unwavering but devoid of any warmth or remorse. In her eyes, this relationship had lost its worth, and she believed that ending it was an act of empathy, sparing you from the emotional decay that had started to seep into your life. Meeting Denji had changed everything for her, and you were left to bear the consequences.

To her, it was a good thing, a release for both of you, though for very different reasons. In her own way, she believed that you had gotten lucky, even if it didn't feel that way in the midst of your heartbreak. She saw it as an act of kindness, despite the undeniable manipulation and use of your emotions. In her eyes, this was her way of sparing you from further deterioration, even if it meant severing the connection that had once meant so much to you.

You knew, deep down, that you would recover from this heartache, that you would eventually find a way to live without Makima. But in that moment, as you wept in the coffee shop, it was hard to see beyond the pain and confusion that had come with the end of a love that had once consumed your heart.

© UNDERSCAR 2023 - All rights are reserved to underscar. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarize, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.

#© UNDERSCAR #not proofread #makima x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x y/n #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x female reader #csm x fem reader #csm x y/n #csm x you #x female y/n #x fem!reader #makima x female reader

77 notes · View notes