Tumgik
#and after everything it just hits ≧ ﹏ ≦
k00sblogger · 2 days
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Summary: So you have a sugar daddy... but you may have forgotten to mention you've never engaged in anything sexual.
Warnings: pwp, age gap, blowjob, pussy eating, dirty talk, virginity loss, sugar daddy obv, they kinda cute ngl.
Pairing: sugardaddy!jk x fem!reader
🔗: m.list
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The bright light from your phone makes you squint as you scroll through chanels website. Your decorated nail constantly tapping against the screen everytime you scroll, none of the bags cute enough to pull your interest yet.
Ten minutes pass before you finally set your tired eyes on something you might like. The mini flap bag, it's nice- you have to admit it.
At first, you were never one for designer items- and you never even bothered to bat your eyes towards a expensive store.
Okay maybe that wasn't completely true.
Technically, you had longed for a expensive bag, jewelery, or clothing before, you'd just never had the money to afford it. Things were different now- and 6'000 dollars for a bag was nothing.
You could thank jungkook for that.
Meeting him at a bar was coincidental, but you were greatful regardless. The two of you hit it off, and talked for months on end after meeting each other.
He was buying you expensive things even before a deal was established between you both. You rejected the little gifts in the beginning, but there was only so much you could do when he started to send things to your house without letting you know.
You don't really remember exactly how you both came across the whole sugar daddy thing, but you were quite drunk when it happened- so you didn't doubt that you actually agreed to the whole thing.
The problem was, you hadn't really done anything sexual before- and jungkook didn't know that. You were to scared to tell him, rightfully so.
You knew deep down you'd have to admit it to him sooner or later, it wouldn't be much longer before he'd expect something sexual from you in return for spoiling you all the time.
For now though.. you figured you were better off keeping your mouth shut about it.
Your fingers press a few more buttons before the purchase is made, and you smile when you see it'll be delivered by next wednesday.
A few moments later, your phone dings. The contact name causes your eyes to light up, and you click on his message almost instantly.
~~~
J: 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎?
You: 𝚑𝚘𝚠'𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?
J: 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜.
You: 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛
J: 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎
You: 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢?
J: 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠.
You: 𝟾𝚙𝚖?
J: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙.
You: 𝚔𝚔
~~~
Gosh, he was in his 30's yet he texted like he was your age.
That's the last thing said before you set your phone down on your nightstand, and flip over onto your side. You don't stay awake much longer, eyes slowly fluttering closed as you drift off to sleep.
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At exactly 8pm the next day, your walking down your long driveway to jungkooks blacked out SUV. You do everything in your power to avoid looking at him, digging through your purse for absolutely nothing.
He unlocks the car as soon as you reach the door, watching attentively as you open the door and step inside.
"Hey." he says, biting on the inside of his cheek as he looks at your relaxed state- hand lazily resting on the wheel.
The smile on your face makes him smile as well. He shows his row of teeth without shame, never failing to let you see how much he loved hanging out with you.
If all "sugar daddys" were supposed to be wrinkly and weird, jungkook definitely wasn't a sugar daddy.
"Where do you wanna go?" you ask, setting your purse down on the floor of his car. Usually, you wouldn't do that- but this man's car was never not clean. You were convinced he had someone vacuum it out at least once a week.
He denied it when you brought it up, claiming it was always like that. Yeah fucking right.
"My place?" he asks, already pulling out of your driveway before you even nod your head. You sneak a gaze at the hand he's using to steer every few seconds, liking the way he does it so casually.
I mean- driving was a casual thing to do obviously. He just made it look hot.
He slightly turns up the music on the ride there, but keeps it low enough to hear you ramble about whatever your little heart pleased. Jungkook was a listener, at least when it came to you.
Hearing you talk about your life and whatever you did that morning made him happy.
Eventually, he moves his free hand to rest on your thigh- softly rubbing it up and down as he keeps his eyes on the road. He doesn't notice how his constant rubbing causes your skirt to ride up little by little, but you do.
Your hands are pressed to your sides, letting him mindlessly roam your skin with his hand. He doesn't acknowledge the fact that what he's doing is making you wet- god if he was to just lean over in the slightest he'd see your panties making a appearance from under your skirt.
You finally stop holding your breath when he pulls into his own driveway, house much different from your own. It takes him a whole minute just to get up to his garage.
When he pulls in, he turns off the car almost immediately- but he doesn't get out. Obviously you don't either, sitting in awkward silence as you wait for him to say something.
He removes his hand from your leg to rub his upper lip, letting out a deep sigh. "Y/n.."
There wasn't a way to explain his tone, you'd never heard him speak like this before. Your name falling from his mouth makes you look at him, just in time to see how he slightly moves his hips upward and then back down to get more comfortable.
Oh. You mentally curse yourself when you see the little bulge in his pants. Clearly the little soft rubs on your thigh were supposed to be a hint, you felt stupid.
"Oh-" you say, hands moving to take off your seatbelt and switch your position. Your knees now dig into the seat, facing him as he moves a bit of your hair behind your ear.
His eyes don't leave your face as you tug his zipper down, slightly tapping his thigh so he'll lift his hips. You pull down his jeans when he does so, taking in a breath when you see the bulge again.
It was a lot more prominent now that he was only in his boxers. Taking what you've learned from the twitter porn you'd watch, you leaned down to press soft kisses along the length of him.
"Pretty girl." he mutters, watching your every move. You hoped he wouldn't be able to tell this was your first time giving head.
Little by little you bring his boxers down, tucking your bottom lipping between your teeth when his dick springs out of the underwear. He was painfully hard, dick standing tall as you bring your soft hand around it.
You do a couple soft jerks up and down, occasionally looking up at his face to see if he was enjoying it. You smile when you notice his eyes are closed, head leaning against the headrest to take in all the pleasure you were giving him.
His quiet grunts make you want to lean down and give it a taste, you're just so nervous. What if he didn't like it? At this point you had to though, little spurts of pre cum were falling from his tip and getting onto your hand.
You take a deep breath before you finally lean down, jungkooks eyes locking with yours again when you lick the first stripe over his mushroom tip. His mouth is hanging open, hand resting lazily on your head.
He doesn't push your head down just yet, letting you take the lead. If you were someone else, he'd be fucking your face by now- but he wanted to get a feel for what you'd do on your own first.
"Oh fuckkk." his deep voice fills the car as you finally slide his tip in your mouth, softly sucking on the warm head. You use your hand to jerk what's not in your mouth, focusing on just his tip.
You weren't stupid, you knew the spot was sensitive for any guy. Maybe a little too sensitive even, because when you don't stop licking his tip he begins to thrust his hip upwards, forcing the rest of his dick into your wet mouth.
"Yeah? You like sucking my dick?" he asks, knowing well that you can't speak right now. Your mouth was so full of him, nose nudging against his pelvis.
After trying so hard not to, you finally gag hard enough for him to stop. Spit dribbles from your mouth when he finally pulls out, scanning your face with concern written all in his expression.
You can only hear your hard breathing for a minute, wiping your wet lips as you stare down at his lap. His length is fully covered in your spit, still hard and waiting for you to give it a release.
When you lean down to take him back into your mouth, he stops you. You sit up, his hand moving up to your face to rub your plump lips.
"This your first time doing this?" well shit, guess he could tell. The question makes you shift in your spot, you almost sit back down properly but he grabs your arm before you can.
The way he raises his eyebrows at you makes you finally give him a answer. "I haven't." you admit, anxiously biting on your lip. The constant biting causes your lip to turn red.
"Shit baby, why didn't you tell me?" he gives a tense chuckle, looking down at his still bare lower half and then back at you. You give a little shrug of the shoulders, muttering a quiet "I dunno."
He gives you a sigh as he rubs your cheek. You can tell he put great thought into the situation before pulling you close to him again. Your heads right over his tip again, waiting for him to say something."
"Put it in your mouth." he instructs, so you do. You slide his length into your mouth once again- much slower than you do the first time. This time around, his hand isn't so lazy on the back of your head, and he keeps a tight grip on your hair.
He toys with his lip piercing as he bobs your head up and down on his dick, you're still gagging but it's a lot softer. "Just like that.. sucking me so good." the praise, it made you squeeze your thighs together.
His moans are loud, massaging your scalp as you twirl your tongue around him. You did it own your own, and he's proud he doesn't even have to tell you. For this to be your first time, you're good at it. The only reason he noticed was because of how hard you gagged.
He brings his tatted hand up to the wheel, gripping it to steady himself. He tries not to fuck your mouth since you were so new at this, but he can't help it. "Need you to be a good girl for me- can you do that?"
You give him the best nod you can since he still deep in your mouth, and that's all the permission he needs. His hand keeps a good grip on your hair to ensure you keep your head in place, moving his hips up and down.
Grunts and little ah's fall from his pink lips, repeatedly pushing all the way into your throat before pulling out. It's rough for a first, but you like it so much. Your eyes are clamped shut, mascara beginning to run down your face.
He starts to bob your head as well, still not slowing his own thrusts. The combination of both is enough to make him bust, and when he feels his orgasm coming on he already knows he wants to cum in your mouth.
"Gonna cum down your throat okay?" he knows you can't say anything, but when you don't try to pull away from him he figures you want it too.
You only notice how soaked your panties are when his cum is shooting into your mouth, painting your tongue white with his seed. His hips finally slow to a stop, letting go of your hair and letting you sit up.
He grabs your chin before you can sit back down in your seat, looking at your messy face. "Swallow it, don't spit it out." you didn't plan on it, but you swallow it so he can see how much you enjoyed it.
You even go to the lengths of sticking you tongue out after you swallow, and once he sees it's empty he gives you a approving nod and let's go of your chin.
"Cmon, let's get in the house."
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It's been a week since jungkook basically found out you were a virgin. You noticed he texted you much less, and you wondered if it was because of that.
It'd be bullshit if you said it didn't hurt your feelings. I mean, you genuinely liked hanging out with him- even if he didn't spend money on you you'd still spend time with him.
Speaking of that, he hadn't stopped spoiling you. Still sending you flowers and letting you buy whatever you wanted on his card. You hadn't bought much though, you didn't want to if he was thinking about ending this whole thing.
The voice of your friend yanks you out of your overthinking spiral, and you look towards her.
Gemma, you guys had been friends for years- rarely arguing and always having fun. The only downside to the friendship was the fact you guys had been friends for so long that she always knew when something was wrong.
Literally always.
"What's going on with you?" she questions, walking towards you as she continues raking her eyebrow brush through her brow.
You shake your head, not wanting to talk about it. You already thought about him enough, what good would talking about the guy do?
Gemma cocks her head to the left, plopping down next to you on the bed. You don't look at her, staring forward with a blank expression. Unfortunately, your forced to look back at her when she blocks your vision by shoving her face in front of yours.
"Cmon- tell me." you shove her out of your personal space, laughing at her attempts to make you talk. "Look gemma i-"
ding
It's your phone, and gemma looks toward it when she hears the noise. Since it's closer to her side, she grabs it, clicking it on & furrowing her eyebrows when she sees who's texted.
"J?" holy shit, of course it had to be him. You reach out for your phone without a word, but gemmas quick- moving out of your reach in enough time to click on the notification.
Nosy fucker, sometimes you regret giving her your password.
"Ooohh wait- he said he's outside!" Your eyes burst wide open, scurrying to your window as fast as you can. You peak through the blind and sure enough, it's his truck.
You couldn't have possibly forgotten that you guys were supposed to hangout, you barely had even talked to him this week. Which meant.. he'd shown up out of the blue.
Mentally, you thank yourself that you decided to do your makeup for no reason today, because it only takes you 5 minutes to throw on a cute outfit and grab a purse.
You stuff your charger and other necessities into your bag as gemma watches in shock, obviously she had no idea who jungkook was- but she figured it was something serious if he had you rushing out like this.
"Let yourself out! I'll see you later love you bye!" you ramble as you head out the door, gemma laughing behind you as she shuts the door.
As usual, you shuffle through your purse as you walk to his SUV, getting deja vu from last week. You couldn't help it, the walk to anyones car was so fucking awkward.
You hop into the car in silence, wanting to give him the silent treatment for just a little bit. He deserved it after putting you through hell the past couple of days. By hell you meant not talking to him every second of the day.
"Baby-" he starts, but you turn your body toward the window- not wanting to hear what he has to say. He understands why your upset, so he doesn't say much else and simply starts the car and pulls away.
~~~
Your doing your rambling as usual when jungkook finally reaches his destination. During the ride he'd explained why he hadn't spoken to you much recently, and you immediately felt like a bitch.
He told you how his work had him caught up, and reassured you that he wasn't out talking to some other girl. (Or any other sugar baby rather). He even brought you flowers, and that was enough for you to apologize for being so rude.
He forgave you instantly, understanding why you felt upset about it. The way he sees it if he was in your position, he'd probably be upset too.
You hadn't bothered to question where he was taking you until he finally put the car into park. You were at a lake, his SUV surrounded by trees and the only thing in front of you both was a wide range of water.
He comes around the side of the car to let you out, grabbing onto your hand to help you step out. He leads you up to two benches, watching you in awe as you admire the scenery of the place.
"So-" he starts, sitting down on the wooden bench as he looks out at the water. Here it was, you knew the conversation about you being a virgin wasn't completely over- and finally it crept back up on you.
"Why didn't you tell me hm?" he places a comforting hand on your thigh out of habit, the touch not sexual at all. You stare down for a long time before you answer, finding the right words to say.
"I just.. i was scared.. that you wouldn't want this anymore." it was quite clear that he was more than a sugar daddy to you, and you were more than a sugar baby to him. You had real feelings for him, you just couldn't actually say it.
"Sweetheart.. y'know i don't care about that right? I like you regardless." and there it was, jungkook on the other hand wasn't scared to admit it. He liked you a lot, and he wanted to do whatever he could to show you that.
"Don't care about that virginity shit, your still just as attractive to me." his words plaster a smile on your face, you don't know why you were so scared to tell him this. With the way he reacted.. you wish you'd told him much sooner.
The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a while before you talk again, sparking up a conversation about a whole nother topic. The last thing jungkook wanted was to make you uncomfortable continuing to talk about it.
The situation was cleared up now, and that's all he cared about.
After spending a hour more at the lake you finally leave, turning up the music in the car as he drives you home. "I want it though." you say, voice just a bit louder than the music. Jungkook gives you a soft hum as he drives, questioning what you mean without uttering a single word.
"I want you to take my virginity." you say, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. Your confession makes him turn the music a bit lower, glancing over at your body in his passenger seat.
"We've got time baby." he says, turning onto your street now after a long twenty minutes in the car.
"It's gotta be the right time, and i wanna do it the right way."
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1 MONTH LATER
You've just gotten home from a long shift, jungkooks home to be specific. Your back and feet were aching from standing upright all day but when jungkook asked you to come over earlier that day you agreed in a haste.
You needed his presence more than anything today.
When you walk into that house, you expect darkness- but instead your surprised with candles along the floor lighting up the room.
"Holy...." your eyes light up at the sight, and you immediately know jungkook is behind this. The gesture almost makes you wanna cry, after a hard day at work this is what you really needed and wanted.
The closer you walk to his bedroom, (which practically had become yours as well) rose petals began to scatter the floor leading up to the door. A smile adorns your face when you slowly push the door open and you come face to face with jungkook.
He's proudly holding flowers in his hand, pink daffodils to be specific. He remembered the day you rambled about how much you liked them, if he'd gotten you anything else he wouldn't be satisfied.
"Jungkook.. you didn't have to.." your voice trails off as you take the flowers from his hand, pressing them up to your nose so you can smell them.
His built arms wrap around your waist after you set the flowers down, taking you into a big hug. You smell his cologne as soon as he embraces you, the same cologne he always wear that you've grown to love over the time you both spent together.
If you could, you'd douse yourself in it just so you could feel like he's close to you all the time. Sadly strong fragrances sometimes gave you terrible migraines, so that wasn't a option.
"I wanted to." he says, voice raspy as he tilts his head downwards so you can hear him better. He only separates his body from yours so he can kiss you at a better angle, his hand on your cheek as it quickly turns from a soft kiss to a make out session.
You'd stand on your tippy toes for as long as he wanted this kiss to go on, obsessed with the way his hands roam your body when he kisses you. Soon his tongue pushes as he backs you up closer to his bed, stopping the kiss when the backs of your knees hit his bed.
"Still want me to take your virginity?" he asks, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips since he's still so close. Of course, you nodded your head hastily- you wanted that more than anything.
You'd been wanting it.
"Say it." he says, voice stern rather than soft now. "I want you to take my virginity." that's enough confirmation for him, so he pushes you against the bed so he can take off his shirt.
You get the hint and undress along with him, opting to get completely naked rather than him who leaves his pants on- though he's already taken his dick out for you to set your eyes on.
He crawls between your already spread legs, happy that you weren't nervous for him to touch you. You had every reason to be nervous, considering he hadn't laid eyes on your naked body before- but you weren't.
He presses a tender kiss to your lips, and then your neck, your collar bone, your tummy, and then your inner thigh.
"Can I eat you out baby?" you were unsure about it, but you nod anyway. He presses a few more kisses to your thighs until he physically feels your muscles relax, and that's when he licks between your folds.
He gets a taste of how wet you are, and he can't stop- licking every part of you. His tongue dives in and out of your tight hole, lifting your thigh to rest on his shoulder as he sucks on your swollen clit.
"Fuck.. that feels good." your voice is much whinier than usual, and it makes him wanna shove his face even farther into your pussy.
"Yeah? Getting your pussy ate feels good?" god, he made you feel embarrassed in such a good way. His little dirty talk makes your stomach turn, thrusting your hips closer to his face.
You frantically nod as his licks grow even more desperate, your thighs beginning to close around your head. To your surprise, he pulls away from you before you can come- licking your slick off his reddened lips.
The loss of pleasure makes you roll your eyes, and he shakes his head when he sees it. "Don't complain, just want you to cum around my dick instead."
You understand and allow him to lift your thigh again, enjoying the way he looks at you like as if you were the prettiest thing ever. Shit you felt like it with the way he was just giving you head.
"Condom?" he asks, and you appreciate that he even mentioned protection- though you didn't really want it, so you shake your head.
He furrows his brows, gripping the base of his dick and slowly sliding it through your folds just to tease. "You sure?" he asks, but you don't bother to respond- in love with the split second of pleasure everytime his tip passed over your clit.
His body finally leans over your smaller frame, propping himself up with one arm. "It'll hurt.. just relax for me." that's all he says before he pushes it all in, one go.
It hurts his heart when you wince in pain, and he can feel the way you keep tightening around him. It sucks, but he wanted to get the penetration over with quickly instead of moving slow and making you suffer much longer than needed.
"I know, m' sorry-" he whispers into your ear, lying still so you can adjust around him. He'd sit still and patient as long as you needed, he didn't want to hurt you.
Your tears roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup tear by tear- but you were too focused on the pain to even realize you were crying. Your little sniffles are the only thing heard until you finally speak.
"You can move." jungkook makes sure your relaxed enough before he finally pulls out, and then sinks back in. You're still feeling a painful stretch, but it's not as bad as it would've been if he didn't wait for a moment.
"It's okay.. trust me."
His thrusts are slow but deep, refusing to go faster until he knows you're only feeling pleasure. It takes a while, but soon the pain does go away- and a quiet moan of pleasure lets him know that.
Little by little, he picks up his pace as he stares straight into your hazy eyes. "Pretty girl, you were made for me." his voice was so sweet, a perfect contrast with the way he was thrusting into you.
His hips snapped against yours, being sure to press all the way in each and everytime he pushes into your cunt. Your nails dig into his bicep and he lets you, the pressure of your pussy swallowing his dick overriding the pain in his arm.
He moves his hand away from your thigh to massage your breasts, tired of staring at them bounce in his face and not doing anything about it.
"Fuck- yes." your moans are so much quieter compared to his, but he can hear it clear enough. His thumb rubs at your nipple, dick twitching at the way your face contorts at the feeling.
"Know you like that.. tell me how much you like it.." your face is flushed pink, you had trouble voicing how much you were enjoying- it just made you feel so awkward.
"Cmon.. wanna hear you say it for me." your mouth hangs open, confused on how he ever expects you to speak while he's fucking into you with so much force. "I..I like the way you touch me"
There it is. Your timid voice causes him to smirk, shoving his face into your neck to suck on the skin. He finally pulls away when the skin of your neck is red, and the sight of it has him ready to cum.
He's glad when he feels you keep tensing around him, a clear sign of you coming release. "Cum.. Cum all over it." your arms wrap up around his neck, pulling him down so his body is pressed right on top of yours when you cum around him.
"Oh shit-" the feeling of you releasing while he's still inside of you makes him cum on the spot- not giving him enough time to even think about pulling out of you.
You let him thrust into your sopping cunt a few more times, closing your eyes when you feel him paint your insides with his release. His little grunts are so satisfying to you, knowing that you did that to him was satisfying.
He finally pulls out with a sigh, moving over to the side and pulling your back to his chest. "M-Sorry fuck.. i didn't mean to.."
He didn't need to say it, and you didn't care anyway- you reassured him that it was okay and you'd just buy a plan b the next morning.
"I'll buy it for you." he says, and you don't even try to argue with him about it- he'd probably wake up before you just to go get it before you could purchase it on your own dime.
"Alright alright.." you say, closing your eyes and letting your muscles turn to mush as you begin to fall asleep.
"I wouldn't mind getting you pregnant tho-"
"Shut up."
(requested by @mxmokoa12)
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lemonlover1110 · 1 day
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓
Satoru Gojo
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Pairing: Professor!Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Summary: To ensure you have a good grade, you stay a couple of minutes after class to chat with your professor.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Face Fucking, Cum Eating, Power Dynamic
*In honor of the anniversary (which passed LMAO) of his unsealing, here's what I posted for the special occasion that got hit with a community label right away
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You usually stay a couple of minutes after class to ask your professor a couple of questions about your homework. You’re always the last person to ask, mainly because after everything, he gives you some extra credit work to ensure you pass his class. 
“Make sure the door is locked.” Professor Gojo reminds you, and you walk over to the door to make sure no one will be able to walk through. Once you’re sure your little extra credit assignment won’t be interrupted, you walk back to Satoru with a smirk on your face. 
You take a seat on the desk, spreading your legs and lifting your skirt so he can see the cute little red panties you wear. He licks his lips at the sight, before his lips go down to meet yours. His tongue licks your bottom lip before it slides into your mouth. And as much as he’d love to taste your sugary lips all day long, you don’t have much time.
“Get on your knees.” He orders when he pulls away. You don’t get much say in what you do, after all, this is for extra credit. You have to work and do what he wants. So you get on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, telling you, “You really have to work for this.”
“I’ll do anything, professor.” You look up at him with doe-eyes as one of his hands goes down and caresses your cheek. You bat your eyelashes, watching as he unbuttons his pants. You feel his thumb press against your lips before he pulls down your bottom lip. He smirks.
“What a good student. The smartest and prettiest in the class.” He says as he begins to pull down his briefs. As he allows his cock to spring free he adds, “And the sluttiest.”
You lick your lips, your mouth beginning to water at the sight in front of you. He begins to stroke his cock, his thumb going over the tip and spreading his pre-cum, as he watches you. Your eyes focused on his dick. You’re biting down your bottom lip as you stare at it. He tells you ever-so-lovingly, “Open your mouth, sweetheart. Go ah–”
You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, allowing him to slap his tip on your tongue. He keeps slapping your tongue until he gets bored and thrusts, putting almost every inch of his dick in your mouth. It causes you to gag, and you forget to breathe through your nose. Tears well up in your nose as Satoru grabs a handful of your hair and stops you from pulling away. He lets go and takes his cock out, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He smirks while looking at your face. 
“Ah, can’t take it?” He taunts. You can’t say anything before he shoves his cock in your mouth again. This time you can actually handle it, remembering to breathe through your nose. He begins to move his hips. He groans as he moves, telling you, “What a nice little mouth. I should fuck it more often.”
You’re looking up at him, a tear escaping your eye as the tip of his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat. Drool drips down to your chin as he uses your mouth. His balls slap against your chin with his every thrust. “Fuck– I need to tell Getou about this.”
You’re not paying all that much attention to what he says. You rarely do while you have sex. You just know he’s enjoying himself, at least that’s what you decipher from his grunting. Tears continue to escape your eyes and the sight is enough to nearly make him come.
“You’re working real hard.” He comments, finally letting go of your hair. He knows you won’t pull away now. “Should’ve done this sooner.”
He’s coming close to finishing, you can tell by the way his hips pick up speed, faster than his usual pace. You look up at him, watching how his head is thrown back. His lips are parted as he moans into the air, knowing that no one will hear. And if someone does, who cares? Nobody would snitch, and he wouldn’t mind a little blackmailing as long as he gets to put his cock in your mouth again. He grabs a fistful of your hair again and pushes your face onto him, your nose buried into his pubes.
“Fuck… Fuck–” He groans, coming to a complete stop inside your mouth, his bitter cum hitting the back of your throat. He lets go, allowing you to take your mouth off his cock and deeply inhale as you make sure to swallow his cum. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”
You do as he says, and he grabs your chin and he moves your face. He smiles, patting your cheek, when he realizes that you swallowed every drop, “What a good girl. You’re getting your extra credit.”
“Thank you, professor.”
500 notes · View notes
ellievickstar · 3 days
Text
Bloodied Bonds
A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)
Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Elain slander, dying
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
There they were again.
Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.
Now, you were not so sure.
“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.
“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.
Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.
“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.
You were dying.
“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.
“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.
Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.
Cassian had sworn to protect you.
And now, against a disease he felt helpless.
“Is there a cure?” He asked.
“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”
“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”
You nod.
“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.
You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.
“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”
Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.
You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.
And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.
“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”
Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.
“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”
“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.
So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.
“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.
Crying meant that you were weak.
And you hated being weak.
That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”
Rhysand shot a look at him.
“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”
“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.
“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”
Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.
Mates.
A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.
But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.
However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.
And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.
One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.
And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.
“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”
Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.
Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.
And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.
Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.
Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.
And in those two days Azriel did not come.
It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.
It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.
“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.
“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.
“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”
“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”
Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?
Where was his mate?
Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?
That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.
“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.
“That was not just tea.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”
A beat passed.
“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”
Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.
“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.
“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl
Part 2 coming.....tell me if you wanna be tagged :3
Love, Ellie.
696 notes · View notes
lovebugism · 1 day
Note
hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈
i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)
You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.
Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.
You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.
“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”
Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 
A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”
“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”
Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 
Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.
You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.
Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.
You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”
The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”
He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 
He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.
“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”
“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.
“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”
“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”
You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.
“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”
Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.
He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.
It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.
“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.
You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”
“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 
“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”
You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 
“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.
“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.
“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.
It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 
But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.
“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 
Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”
The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.
“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.
Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.
His excitement makes you regret your answer. 
“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”
“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”
The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.
You nod once. “Sure.”
He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.
You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.
You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”
His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.
You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”
You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.
He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”
“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”
“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”
Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.
“Eddie,” he finishes for you.
“…Eddie.”
“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”
You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”
Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 
“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”
Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.
“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”
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evie-sturns · 3 days
Text
boyfriend - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: where your boyfriend of 2 years breaks up with you without reason, you go to your comfort place, your best friend matt's house and he does everything he can to calm you down.
contains: fluff, bestfriend!matt, crying, comforting.
--------------└── •✧• ──┘-----------------
panic flushes over me, my body heats up as my eyes scan over the screen of my phone. i instantly call him, my boyfriend aiden
"are you serious aiden?" i raise my voice as he picks up the phone,
"we're done, i told you." he says blankly with next to no emotion in his voice, hes been my boyfriend for just over 2 years.
he knows the shape of my lips against his,
he knows that i can't sleep by myself,
he knows my family,
he knows my daily routine from the second i wake up to the second my head hits the pillow.
and now he breaks up with me over text.
"why!?" i cry, i hear a subtle scoff from aiden before he hangs up. i instantly start to sob, throwing myself up off my bed and grabbing my keys.
i run downstairs and out the door into the night air, making my way down my driveway towards my cute small car.
i slam the door to my car shut, sinking down into the drivers seat as i check my phone. i've been blocked on almost everything already.
tears soak my cheeks as i let out shaky sobs.
--------
11:49
i knock twice on matt's front door, wearing sweatpants and a small shirt. my shoulders are by my sides, shaking up and down with each panicked cry.
after a couple of seconds the door opens slowly, i'm met with matts face.
he looks down at me, a short gasp escapes his mouth as he looks at the state of me.
he grabs my hand and frantically pulls me inside, "hey- hey whats going on?" matt asks , trying to sound calm.
"matt- matt." i sob, he grabs me and pulls me into a tight up, running his mildly shaking hand up and down my back
"shh.. sh sh." matt attempts to shush me before pulling me down the corridor into his bedroom.
he throws me down onto his matress, instantly chucking a blanket over me and sitting down next to me.
he waits for me to speak, still completely unaware why i showed up to his house in floods of tears at midnight.
"i- aiden broke up.. with- with me" i manage to squeeze out in between shaking breathes.
matt goes silent before pulling me onto his lap, holding me across him. i cry into his shirt
"over text with no reason-!" i continue
matt stays silent, breathing deeply. i copy his breathing pattern "you 'wanna know something?" matt says, i nod
"he's made a big mistake, you're the most lovely girl i know. aiden doesn't know what hes lost because- i know, i know that he will regret letting go of the most gorgeous, sweet girl ever." matt sighs,
"yeah?" he continues, i nod shyly.
he rubs my arm, "you can let it all out okay?" matt says softly, picking me up and standing up out of bed, he pulls back the silky sheets of his bed before placing me.
he lays down next to me, pulling up the blanket over us, i lay my head on his chest.
"he never cared about me matt." i admit "and now half my shit is- its just stuck in his apartment" i sniffle, wiping my nose on his shirt which matt doesn't bat an eye to.
"you know what, i'll go get it now okay? chris can come stay in here while im gone." matt says, heaving himself up of the bed
"matt you don't have to do that- honestly," i protest, matt just shakes his head
"don't worry 'bout it." he says, walking out of the room.
-
chris walks into the room wearing blue pyjama pants and a loose fit white shirt, he has a concerned expression on his face as he flops down on the bed beside me
"you okay?" he asks, "i don't know- i'll be fine." i reply with a strained voice.
"matt told me what happened, i'm sorry about aiden or whatever the fuck hes called." chris sighs
he wraps an arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to his side, we lay in a comfortable silence for about 30 minutes before matt comes back
"im sorry i gotta take a shit, thats my fault give me a couple minutes." chris blurts out
"thanks chris." i laugh slightly as he sits up, walking out of the room.
-
matt comes back in holding 2 bags in his hands, he brings them over to me with a soft smile on his face. he reaches his ringed hand up and scratches the side of his face.
"you didn't have to- how'd it go..?" i say, matt lays back down next to me
"he was screaming at me the whole time, all 'who the fuck are you' but i think he recognised me after a minute of ransacking your room." matt laughs
i shake my head "i'm sorry."
"don't be" matt says,
"try go to sleep now okay?" he says pressing a kiss to my forehead.
---------------------
TAGLIST:
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt
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tayytayy12 · 2 days
Text
Off to the races | CS55 x Reader
Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.
Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really
Requested - No - Yes
Type - Written
Not been proofread
You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.
He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.
Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.
He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.
You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.
You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.
You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.
“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.
You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.
You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”
“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.
“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”
You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”
You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”
He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”
You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”
He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.
“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”
You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.
He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.
—————
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euphternal · 1 day
Note
How about a imagine with Paige x pregnant reader❤️
paige bueckers x pregnant!reader 🤰🏼🌱
notes: tw of pregnancy and birth 💖 i hope u love this <3 &&& my requests are open!!!!
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
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₊✧. — she’s so damn attentive, bless her :((
₊✧. — you’ve been standing on your feet all day? she’s whipping a chair out of THIN air…
₊✧. — she’s always getting you flowers everytime your baby or babies hits a milestone… oh, her hands are grown, here comes a FAT bouquet of flowers 😭
₊✧. — she's gotten into the habit of taking 0.5x photos of u during ur pregnancy and ur guys' baby LMFAOOOO
₊✧. — she’s CONSTANTLY reading pregnancy books, nothing else lmfao
₊✧. — she’s LOVEEESSS coming up behind you and carrying your belly for a good few seconds, to take the weight off your back :((
₊✧. — she’s SPAMMING the huskies groupchat with her baby fever and you
₊✧. — as she’s a women, she understands what your going through and the up and downs. she’s always coming up with the best advise EVERRRRR
₊✧. — you’ve been in labour more than you should do, paige, her family, your family and her team all came for support. cheering you on and all taking turns holding ur babyyy :((( they all love you unconditionally :(((
₊✧. — if u want something, she’s already got it LMFAO.
₊✧. — paige and the teams are always telling you to give it a break or sit the fuck down. cause you love helping them out sm.
₊✧. — ur literally the mama bear of their team😭 always looking after thier cuts, bruises or any kind of injuries from them, feeding them, JUST ANYTHING FROM OR FOR THEM
₊✧. — she’s always telling you to stay in bed when the baby starts crying in the middle of the night. she's already fed her, pats her, changes her, JUST EVERYTHING
₊✧. — omg ur guys’ baby or babies LOVESSSS being with auntie azzi, auntie ice, auntie kk (especially kk) and auntie nika sm🥹🥹🥹
₊✧. — obvs ur guys’ baby/babies are obvs gonna love basketball too LMFAOOO
₊✧. — it’s practically forced a upon 😭😭😭
₊✧. — OH MY GAWWDDD, GENO IS THIER GRANDDAD😭🥹 he loves ur baby/babies sm
₊✧. — he would GLADLYYYYY, babysit your baby/babies while paige is practicing/training
₊✧. — you and geno are sitting on the sideline seats. he’s bouncing you baby on his knee, making ur baby laugh. meanwhile paige is a across the court just standing there… SOBBING LMFAO
₊✧. — kk is an absolute SWEETHEART with your baby/babiesssss :((((
₊✧. — now the rest of the huskies are getting baby fever LMFAO
₊✧. — the team is ALWAYS telling the cam crew at thier tournaments to show their baby/babies on the big screens (obvs without telling paige LMFAO) and obvs everyone cheers when the see ur babies :((((
₊✧. — IM SOBBING WRITING THIS???
₊✧. — does anyone want a part two?? cause i fucking want it LMFAOOOOO
279 notes · View notes
frannyzooey · 2 days
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Down the Hall
Frankie Morales x f!reader
Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)
A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️
He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same. 
Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one. 
He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own. 
When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth. 
He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed. 
She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception. 
Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live. 
Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him. 
That was what counted.
He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head. 
He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid. 
Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.
Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. 
“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”
He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.
“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”
At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful. 
When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.
“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”
His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there. 
“Do you know when my mom gets home?”
He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”
You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head. 
When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief. 
It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease. 
He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table. 
“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss. 
Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes. 
He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear. 
She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot. 
“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were. 
He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup. 
“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation. 
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?” 
Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper. 
“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.” 
And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you. 
He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash. 
Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you. 
Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup. 
The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach. 
It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.
Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”
A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while. 
“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.” 
Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.
He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep. 
Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind. 
“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool. 
Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.
Fuck me. 
The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.  
“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”
Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him. 
Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.
“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”
The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together. 
The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer. 
When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away. 
You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep. 
You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in. 
Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in. 
A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it. 
You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night. 
Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself. 
When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up. 
Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear. 
You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness. 
You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted. 
He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen. 
You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark. 
Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline. 
You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that. 
“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”
“Do you need a ride to the airport?” 
Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”
Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end. 
The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?” 
She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows. 
His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else. 
For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it. 
Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up. 
And yet, he couldn’t stop. 
He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself. 
He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours. 
The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever. 
The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head. 
He drank a glass of water, listening. 
The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor). 
He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs. 
He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone. 
His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in. 
“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”
“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs. 
“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.
“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”
“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”
You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned. 
“In here?” 
You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”
You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding. 
You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased. 
“Let me go get changed.”
He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her.  Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt. 
The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes. 
They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats. 
They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.
You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you. 
He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.
Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen. 
Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep. 
Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black  
Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark. 
The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him. 
“What did you think?” you asked quietly. 
He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths. 
Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging. 
“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”
He then started to slide off the bed. 
Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled. 
Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop. 
Bending down, he kissed you. 
It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip. 
You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso. 
His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.  
“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat. 
Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin. 
“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.
As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts. 
His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit. 
“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”
You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”
He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.
“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”
A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring. 
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.” 
His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers. 
Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand. 
You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan. 
“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”
His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off. 
Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head. 
“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in. 
Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.
“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it. 
He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been. 
“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”
Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours. 
He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips. 
“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek. 
You shook your head. 
“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”
“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace. 
“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”
His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”
Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat. 
You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone. 
His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate. 
“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”
You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release. 
He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine. 
“You gonna come?”
You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months – 
Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it. 
“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head. 
“Do it,” you whined.
Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below. 
“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths. 
You stared right back, holding him tight. 
“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you. 
You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw. 
He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat. 
“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”
We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone. 
“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”
You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him. 
The way he wanted you to need him all along. 
His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue. 
“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
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applejuicebegood · 21 hours
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Could you possibly write some more headcanons for how Jason Todd would slowly warm up to affection? I know you mentioned it briefly in a previous post if I'm remembering correctly but I just need more on him possibly not even notices how his behavior around reader begins to change!!!! (This is all prior to a relationship)
A/N: Mmmmm very sweet indeed, I love writing for this idiot sm. Thank you so much for requesting dude! I really hope that you like it!!
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He first thought of it as impossible that someone as soft and as sweet as you could ever fit into his life of grit, violence and blood. He knew you as an opposite - a total contrast to the rough edges that fitted his body and world. But love is stubborn, and so were you.
The first major change you unintentionally enacted was the bettering of his sleeping habits. After your fifth date, you asked if he had been sleeping enough and if everything was ok. Your concern bubbling over at the sight of his lush green eyes now sunken in by a surrounding deep purple. His shoulders were slumped forward and his steps stumbled as you walked next to him down the library shelves. He perked up, the sweet trill of your voice drawing him out from his drowsy state. He was used to pulling all-nighters, his job practically required it. But it was the first time he felt guilty about it. He laughed it off, assuring you that he just couldn't sleep the other night.
Only when he clicked his apartment door close after walking you home, did he reflect on how little he actually slept in general. And never wanting to see that fearful empathy in your eyes again, he started sleeping at least more than an hour each day. It took time to fight back the creeping guilt of supposedly neglecting his duties in protecting Gotham but he would rather revel in that guilt then make you worry about him.
Once you two started officially dating, the second major change was his discovering of his love of your touch. The quickness of your shoulders bumping or you playfully hitting his arm in a fit of laughter was the purest form of electricity and warmth burrowing into his skin and settling into his bones. Your gentleness was so foreign to him. His skin throbbing in bruises or his muscles stinging in agony was familiar. The gentle brush of your warm hand over the side of his face, was not.
It took time for him to grow comfortable with your physical affection - but when he did, god, it was like discovering a limitless source of vitality, all wrapped up in the most flawlessly beautiful of persons. He longed for the closeness of your skin if he was gone for long missions. He would cry into the circle of your arms, all of his unexpressed gratitude and love for you boiling over in hiccuped sobs.
He leans into your touch like a cat leans into ear scratches. He'll nuzzle his cold cheeks into the softness of your palms as you brush his tangled black locks back up over his forehead. He squeezes your hand to silently signal when you both need to cross a street or just to remind him that your still by his side.
From you he learned how easy it was to smile at the world. You reintroduced him back into the reality of natural goodness existing around him. This translated back into his Red-Hooding, of now seeing a city worth protecting. Not just because your in it, but because he now knows of the beauty and the laughter it holds. Within the graffitied concrete walls and stretches of hidden art galleries and grassroots community centres. Of the small queer clubs and community bookstores both of you would frequent. He learned to fall in love with Gotham because he fell in love with you.
Before going public with your relationship to his family, the sudden shift in his stern behaviour was glaring. Jason was gentler and actually trying, although awkwardly, to deepen his connection to his little brothers and sisters. You said that he was going to be stuck with them anyway, so he should learn to see them as the family he always deserved to have. Tim and Duke tease him, egging him on to explain why he decided to show up with a Tupperware of hand-baked velvet cookies for Steph and Cass (no, he didn't let Tim and Duke have any). He could throw a pillow at them and chase them through the manor, telling them to shut their faces, but nothing could distract anybody from the fact that someone was bringing back a Jason both Dick and Bruce thought they had buried.
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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your posts about Tim being the parent in his time with Bruce+ Richard's parentification + Tim always planning of being a placeholder, got me thinking
What if Tim started off like that, playing parent for Bruce, ensuring he doesn't cross any lines or overworks himself
And just never stop?
His civilian life is starting to crack, and he's doing worse than he could be, but Batman has to be taken care off
In comes Jason who tries to kill him (great another Bruce) so his workload is doubled, and also Damian who has to be untaught murder
Well it's an escalation of what he's used to, but if he can deal with Batman, he can deal with his kids, time to bust out the books on therapy and deprogramming cult teachings
Besides, he's a placeholding for the two of them until they're better like Batman, so who better to teach them the ropes than him?
Let's toss in comments here and there that will clear misunderstandings between the Bats (excluding himself— he's temporary) and what about their interactions keeps the family apart
Like boy is neglecting himself to high hell, only stopping when it's literally impossible, and barely has a civilian life, but it's worth it for Gotham's betterment and the Batfamily's stabilization
Timestream? Well shit, he has to get Bruce back as per his job of keeping the family in order but the family is either not getting better or worse,
Let him just leave a bunch of personalized self-help guides and programmed schedules that'll ensure the bats are getting better while he's away
Oh hey Ra's, midn if I secretly learn everything about how Damian grew up in this fine League of yours so I can teach Damian what is so wrong about his childhood once I'm home?
So everything is getting better post BruceQuest, Richard can be a brother more (because Tim took on his job as parent-brother), Damian and his family are able to bond and understand each other (because Tim untaught an awful upbringing) and Jason feels like a member of the family (because Tim got Jason up to speed with how much he has always been loved) plus Bruce gets to be a father with his kids (because Tim kept the man out of his otherside inevitable self-made grave)
And say Batfamily, in a miracle of communication, realize that Tim has subsumed Bruce's role as caretaker and father
Not to the entire family of course, but even parenting for one sibling or parent as a kid yourself is one too many
And they remember all the comments Tim said to help the family get better subtly suggesting everybody but Tim is family
Like he's said "Your family," never "Our"
He says "You're a Wayne, a member of their family,"
He has to be referred to as Tim and Drake, never Wayne to catch his attention
And also imagine Richard saying "You can't keep being a parent to your brothers and father" and Tim going "glass houses, *tires to parent Rich*"
"NO—"
The shit storm that would happen if the batfamily realized that Tim donned Robin with the intention of always playing parent for Bruce, and then leaving once his intervention isn't need anymore
Yes! I absolutely love the ideas you incorporated with this. I didn't manage to hit all of them in my post, but I tried to expand upon them a bit:
At first, Tim wouldn't realize that's what he's doing. He just wants to help Bruce (even if that includes taking away the Batmobile keys, locking him out of the batcomputer, and using a rewards system when the man successfully takes care of his wounds).
Tim only comes to the realization that he's Bruce's parent when the YJ are being lectured by their mentors. At this point, the team has done far more dangerous stunts and missions than whatever the JL was lecturing them about. When the mentors come, Robin allows Batman to lecture him in front of the others. Tim knows they have to keep up appearances and can listen to a hypocritical discussion from Bruce to maintain the image of Batman Tim has spent so much time propping up.
After the other mentors leave, Tim pulls Batman into a private room for a chat. Bart, fearing that Robin is getting a second lecture, almost bursts in to save Tim. He's slowed down by the glare Tim sends his way. He's stopped by the conversation he overhears.
Tim, with his hands on his hips as he glares up into the cowl, lectures Bruce on all the behavior issues the man displayed the month that the YJ were away.
Bruce is just standing there, head slightly hung, as Tim goes on.
"This is why I feel I can never get away, B. I can't even leave you for a month before your excessive force statistics skyrocket! What am I supposed to do with you?"
Bart quickly leaves as he has a mental breakdown at this discovery. Two hours later, when Batman leaves, Bart asks Robin if he's Batman's father. Tim laughs it off at first, but after Bart lays out the evidence, Tim spirals for a few days at this discovery.
Once Tim accepts that he *is* like Bruce's dad, he decides to just embrace it. He and Alfred can share custody of the man-child (and this is also why Tim has the view of family that he does. His three examples of being a father are his own dad who constantly leaves, Alfred who maintains a professional distance, and Bruce who's his grieving son). Tim sees Dick as his brother, but he sees Bruce as his kid. It's confusing as hell, complicated, and Tim also doesn't see himself as part of the family at the same time.
While the teen is finally settling into his role as Bruce's parent, Jason comes back and tries to kill him. He doesn't know whether or not to laugh that Jason becomes his new responsibility at the same place Bruce officially (in Tim's mind) became Tim's.
The teen treats Jason similar to a grandson and son. He parents Bruce on how to interact with Jason, takes a few college classes and reads a few textbooks on PTSD, and interrogates LoA agents on the Pit. He slowly starts to feed them both phrases and perspectives so that they understand and interact with each other better. He almost wants to hit them both upside the head for their miscommunication.
It's not great, and Tim is so fucking tired, but they are getting closer to being a family. Tim can almost taste his retirement.
Then Damian comes into the family and tries to kill him. Tim wants to scream.
Damian isn't exactly friendly to Tim, but the teen spots a breakthrough when he catches how Dick and Damian interact. He, in what he later calls foolishly, drops some of the weight onto Dick's shoulders. Tim's tired trying to wrangle both Jason and Bruce into somewhat, even unhealthily, communicating with each other.
Then Bruce dies. It's unfair because Tim has lost someone who's both his son and his father to him. No one except Cassie could know about the amount of grief Tim is under because of that. Cassie, who Tim isn't talking to after the whole basement scientist cloning thing.
So, Tim finds evidence that Bruce is alive. He watches as Dick cracks under the weight of Batman and being a father to Damian. He's hurt (oh gods does it burn to lose his self-made but suffocating role that ties him to Bruce), but he understands why Dick gives Damian Robin.
Tim leaves, and he starts to discover himself. He became an adoptive father at thirteen. For once, even though he's heavily lost in the thralls of grief, he's free of that responsibility. He only has to take care of himself (an exhausting task he's never quite accomplished before) and he doesn't rely on anyone.
Still, despite his freedom, he sees Ra's offer for what it is. It's an opportunity to learn more about Damian. Bruce will need Tim's support when he returns, after all. If he takes down Ra's both for himself and Damian, that's neither here nor there.
When Bruce finally returns home, Tim starts to see his retirement again. He sees the progress he's enacting out of the family in all of their relationships. Like Tim's messy relationship with Bruce, Dick is both a father and brother to Damian. Jason and Bruce will occasionally meet at a diner. Damian and Bruce will have father-child outings outside of Batman and Robin. Cass returns home more often. Steph barges into the Manor for food or bugs different Bats on patrol. Babs is able to take time for herself outside of wrangling the Bats together. Duke is starting to join the family, but Tim doesn't imagine too much tension or difficulty with that transition. They'll be fine without him.
It's looking up. Tim can leave behind his the Wayne family.
Then Damian points out how Tim often uses "your" or "their" instead of "our" family.
Godsdamnit.
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shanastoryteller · 2 days
Note
happy birthmonth!!!! I've actually never played hades but im obsessed w ur zagreus prompt answers.
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Achilles hangs his head in his hands. Patroclus's hand on his knee is pretty much the only thing preventing him from going after Zagreus spear first.
Not that it would do him much good. Even before this, before knowing this, Zagreus has been winning against his father for decades. There are rumors of Hades throwing those fights. Achilles can only assume that those rumors are spread by spirits who have never met him.
"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic about this?" Zagreus complains.
He's so close. Achilles could get a few good hits in. It would at least make him feel better.
"He is rarely not dramatic when presented with the opportunity," Patroclus says, voice wry and almost warm and something Achilles never thought he'd hear again.
"Probably why he and Prince get along so well," Sisyphus says, offhand, and he hears what he assumes is Eurydice hitting him.
Zagreus makes the strangest friends.
"What were you thinking?" he demands, finally lifting his head.
Zagreus scrunches his nose and scratches the back of his head. Sun streams in through the windows of the large palace, everything bright and open and nothing the House.
How is there sun down here?
He's certain he hasn't said anything out loud, but Patroclus says, "Chaos created it after they lost a bet with Zagreus."
If anything, his headache gets worse. He can barely enjoy the fact that even after all the time apart, Patroclus knows him just as well. "Chaos is involved in this too?"
Chaos, who's sunk into the depths of the underworld and hasn't ventured out for anyone or anything. Not even when Persephone left. Not even for Nyx.
"They're around," Zagreus says vaguely. "You can use Darkness for a lot of things, you know? We fish together sometimes too. Well, I fish, and they watch me. I think they get bored."
"And you're certainly not boring," Sisyphus says. Eurydice doesn't hit him this time.
Achilles repeats, "What were you thinking?"
"Well," he says, then shrugs. "Why do people keep thinking I planned this? It just sort of happened. I wasn't really thinking."
That Achilles has no trouble believing.
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phoenixblaze1412 · 3 days
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Can you write about female reader and Dottore got body swap?
Of course!
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It was just a mishap, if Dottore were to say so himself.
But he did not expect the concoction he was making would end up like this. That headache he's feeling is not helping at all.
Right when he was about to get rid of his mask did he not find it on his face.
He could only stare at his hand and noticed how small it is than what he's usually used to see, no scars from the past. Wait since when did he paint his nails blue? He definitely remembers you having such colored nails and even showing it off to him since it's the same color as his hair.
He quickly looked around in search of a mirror but the only thing close to it was the shards of the beaker he held earlier. Looking closely at the glass, he noticed your reflection staring back at him instead.
Testing the waters, he poked and prodded at his (your) body. He memorized every curves and bumps in your body and he definitely knows he's in your body.
Maybe a final observation is needed to make it official.
He was already moving his hand down to cup himself when a large hand shot out and grabbed his wrist to stop himself from what he was about to do.
"Don't you even dare touch there!"
He stared back at his maskless self, already knowing it's you inside his body with that dark red blush on your (his) face, tilting his head innocently like he wasn't just about to touch something.
"Oh? But I was only making an observation, love. Besides, I already touched you multiple times whenever we have our love-making sessions, there's nothing to be embarrassed about when I already know how your body reacts to my every touch."
You stared at yourself- Dottore, well you had to tilt your head down a bit to look at your own self. Damn, were you that short that the doctor had to look down just to talk to you- okay not the time to worry about that. You did also poked and squeezed every muscle in Dottore's body that you're currently residing in... may or may not have checked and touched what's down there.
The doctor didn't have much to worry about when he stared at his own body, which is towering over him, when he already has his segments who are literally his own clones. You, however, are still somewhat panicking that you currently have a dick attached to you. Which is your partner's but you'retechnically in his body.
"Love, please calm down. The effects will wear off after a day. I can just send Omega to the meeting to take my place as always."
Dottore noticed you were lost in your own thoughts before grabbing your jaw and making you turn to look at him.
"Everything will be alright. I'll simply inform Pierro that you had fallen ill and is unfit to do your tasks for today. Now, do stop nibbling your.. well, my lip. Remember dear, my teeth are sharp and you're in my body."
Not that Dottore was annoyed when he always see this little habit of yours, he finds it adorable really. He just doesn't want your lips to be wounded from the habit.
A thought came across his mind as he gave you a sly grin. You stared back at your partner and raised a brow, wondering at what he's thinking. Not long after that you were suddenly being pinned to the table behind you, the edge of the furniture hitting your lower back but you were more surprised you had that kind of strength in your body to even do such a thing.
You heard the doctor let out a little laugh as he grabbed your hands and placed them on his waist, holding them in place.
"Since we are in such an 'unfortunate predicament', I suggest we do a little experiment. It is your first time in my body so you get to experience what I feel while I do the same with your body, hm?"
Oh dear..
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euseokz · 2 days
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@ sohee — forget what others say, let’s just focus on us for tonight baby . . cws : oral (f) . wc : 0.8k+ . genre : smut
a/n : @dearmyouth @luvyujun tagging you both because i need more people to follow me on my downfall through the sohee universe 😵‍💫😵‍💫
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FUCKBOY! SOHEE who just has a certain… reputation that follows him around.
he doesn’t like commitment, he likes things that don’t last long and that don’t leave him with any strings attached. anyone that was even remotely somehow included in his circle knew that, including you, so you knew not to get caught up with him, that it wasn’t worth it because he’d just waste your time so he could sweet talk his way into bringing you home with him some random night  — and yet, somehow, you now found yourself in his bed, legs spread and fingers pulling at his hair as his tongue lapped at your clit.
you whined sohee’s name as you allowed your lids to fall close, arching your back while feeling as your thighs tensed up, your second consecutive orgasm of the night hitting you hard as he continued sucking on the sensitive bud, smiling as he successfully threw you over the edge again.
“am i that good?” he asked, a noticeable smirk behind his words, lips still against your pussy.
sohee left one last kiss over your folds, then moving up to hover over you, the moonlight that came in through the window — the light slithering in from outside the only source of brightness in the room — only enhancing the mix of slick and saliva coating his chin and mouth, the visual of sohee over you like that only making you feel even dizzier with arousal. he looked at you with a grin, a proud one, before leaning in for a kiss, looking all too cute for how nasty what he was doing was, his eyes shining with a certain glint of joy that you couldn’t really ignore. this was momentary, you knew it, and you were alright with it, not minding the silent one-night-stand agreement between you two if it meant sohee would keep fucking you as well as he had up until that point, your eagerness for more all too apparent as you hummed into the kiss, planting your hands on sohee’s naked chest and pushing him back, your own eyes now glistening with lust as you said a simple “just fuck me already” — and who was sohee to say no to such an inviting proposal.
with swift motions, sohee reached over to his bedside table, opening the first drawer and fishing out a little silver packet, undressing himself completely instead of just being shirtless, finally giving you a peek at his cock, his erection looking almost painful, his dick slapping against his stomach with a low thud when he pulled his pants and underwear down, a thick bead of pre-cum running down his tip. he opened the small package and pulled the condom inside of it out, wasting no time in rolling it down his length before positioning himself closer to you again.
almost teasingly, sohee pressed the head of his cock against your hole, waiting a second before pushing into you in one single thrust, reeling in how you gasped in surprise, your moans loud when he started moving in and out of you immediately, catching you off guard, the way he fucked you too good — and he knew it, smiling as he moved, eyes locked on your pussy and on how well it swallowed his dick, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he groaned, one hand digging in your hip while the other pressed against your lower stomach, only enhancing your pleasure, making you feel everything more intensely.
“is it that good?” he asked, eyes drifting upwards to yours for a second as he felt your pussy clench down around him hard, your nails leaving small crescent shapes on his wrists after you reached out for them, looking for some sort of grip to reality. 
“you know it is” you replied through your moans, bitting your own bottom lip right after as you whined, pressing your eyes closed shut tightly, focusing completely on your own pleasure, on how fucking good sohee's cock felt dragging in and out of you, filling you up perfectly and then pulling back just to repeat it all again, hitting all the right spots inside you with every single thrust.
“i'm close” sohee hummed a bit after, hips not faltering as he threw his head back, continuing to move in the same rhythm, if anything only gaining more will to be even more precise with the way he moved in and out of you.
“me too” you whispered back, feeling as your high started bubbling in your lower stomach, building up until it all finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you hard, making you let out one last loud moan as your body tensed up, aligning almost perfectly with the moment sohee's orgasm hit him, his hips slowing down then but still not stopping completely, continuing to thrust in and out of you but in a more languid pace.
“so fucking good” sohee mumbled to himself, his voice no louder than a whisper, your ears almost missing it.
maybe you were stupid for ever falling for sohee's sweet talk so easily — or maybe you had just experienced the best sex of your life and it was all worth it after all.
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puckinghischier · 2 days
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Tattoos Together
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: based off of the song tattoos together by lauv
notes: this idea was way better in my head, but i still think it’s cute and turned out alright. i’m obsessed with this song and knew i just had to write a nico fic based off of it asap. also, i know the timeline is all over the place bc nico is captain in this, and holtzy and dawson are here, but it technically takes place after jack’s rookie season. the beauty of fiction is that literally nothing is real, so let’s just all pretend everything is normal and chronologically correct 😊. hope you enjoy!! :)
[2.7k]
~
Summer was your favorite season for a number of reasons. First of all, you loved the warm weather. Being able to sit outside and soak up the sunshine was something your body desperately craved during the bitter New Jersey winters. You also loved the overall happiness of the general population that seemed to radiate during the summer months. Your favorite reason, however, was the fact that your best friends were always available to do whatever you wanted them to, because hockey isn’t played in the summer.
You hated that the Devils didn’t make the playoffs this year. You were as devastated as they were during that last game of the season, but you can’t lie and say you weren’t also ecstatic. You knew, the moment they lost the game that eliminated them from any sort of play off position, you were going to get a summer full of sun and fun at the lake house.
You had decided to take the warm season off from any internships or courses, not wanting anything to come in-between you and nearly four, uninterrupted months with your boys at the lake. You had decided to transfer to a college in Jersey so you could spend more time with Jack, not so you could stay in a strange city while all of your friends go to your favorite place on earth.
This year was especially exciting, considering Jack had convinced a group of his teammates to join in on the summer antics. Your anticipation for the warmer weather to arrive was only heightened once you learned a certain hockey captain would also be in attendance at the lake house.
You had been drawn to Nico from the first moment you met him after Jack’s rookie debut. Jack was so eager to introduce the two of you. He had made quick friends with the Swiss player after his arrival in the garden state and he wanted nothing more than his oldest and newest friend to meet one another and hit it off. Nico gave short, but kind, responses when Jack called you over to speak to him outside of the locker room; you assumed he was just tired and wanted to get home, but once you had seen him leaning against the wall in a crowded bar a few hours later, you made it your mission to make a friend out of the quiet hockey player.
You found yourself enjoying his conversation a little too much, basically neglecting Jack on his big night. The two of you talked about anything and everything. Nico had been in the middle of a story about his siblings back home when you suddenly realized the danger you were in. You hadn’t even been around this man for more than a few hours, and you could feel yourself falling for him. His kind eyes, the deep dimples when he smiled, and the care and attention he showed every single person that came up to congratulate him on the win, while also never failing to listen to your stories and stay engaged in the conversation with you, was making you spiral in the best way.
You knew you couldn’t go there, though. He was a big shot hockey captain, and you were only here for school. With the team’s busy schedule, you didn’t know when you would see him again. As soon as the light feeling in your chest had appeared, you forced it to make its exit. You couldn’t fall for him. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for him.
Over the next few months, however, you found yourself in Nico’s presence more often than not. Any team event that Jack dragged you to, you always found your way to where Nico was, striking up innocent, friendly conversation. If you were attending a home game at the Prudential Center, you were always cheering for Nico anytime he made a particularly important or skillful play. When he would come over to yours and Jack’s shared apartment, you always had some excuse for needing to be in the kitchen when they were, or passing through the living room and then planting yourself on the couch between the two ‘out of boredom’.
Nico wasn’t making it easy for you, either. Anytime the captain would score on the ice, it was you he was pointing towards during his celebration (or sending a text to ask if you were watching as soon as he was in the locker room for intermission, if it was an away game). If he had plans with Jack he would always send you a message, inviting you to tag along. Nico had even memorized your class schedule and your coffee order, bringing you your caffeine fix on lecture mornings when he would pick Jack up for morning skate. You found yourself talking to Nico almost more than you spoke to Jack, finding it harder and harder to keep your promise to yourself.
Jack could sense the underlying feelings you had for his captain, being able to pick up on all of your tells from the many years of friendship. He saw the way your gaze would immediately start sweeping any room you entered until it settled on Nico. He pretended not to notice the way you would always come out of your room on the mornings Nico was coming by before practice, hair and make-up already done, sitting in the kitchen to ‘work on homework’ before your lectures. He noticed when you bought his captain’s jersey, alternating between the 13 and 86 jerseys every other game. He noticed the way you would instantly perk up at the mention of Nico’s name in any conversation.
Jack also noticed the way Nico tried, and failed, to hide the feelings he had for you, as well. He noticed the way Nico would skate out for warm-ups and look around the glass until he saw you, waiting a few minutes before he made his way over to the glass where you were standing, pretending to be surprised when he turned around and found you behind him. Jack noticed the way Nico suddenly wanted to always come over to his apartment instead of Jack going to what the team refers to as the ‘captain’s quarters’. He noticed the way Nico would always come back with your favorite cocktail in hand anytime you were with them on a night out.
The back and forth between you and Nico continued for months, neither one of you ever taking the next step to admit feelings for one another. Jack wished the two of you would just get it over with at this point, the inevitable apparent to everyone but yourselves. So, when Jack opened the lake house invitation to Nico, Alex, and Dawson this summer, he can’t lie and say he didn’t have some ulterior motives.
Now, as you and Nico walked ahead of everyone else, lost in your own little world, he knew he made the right decision.
You had just eaten dinner, Jack having made reservations at a local seafood place he was dying to take everyone to, when you announced you wanted ice cream. You had suggested the small ice cream shop a short walk from the restaurant, wanting to stay out in the small lake town a little bit longer. You had sat next to Nico at dinner, staying in your own conversation most of the meal, being brought into the larger conversation happening around you only if either of your names were mentioned. The conversation followed the two of you outside, talking about his upcoming trip home.
“So, when are you leaving this utopia?” You asked him, shoulders bumping as you walked on the sidewalk beside him, a car driving by, causing your sundress to ruffle and flow in the passing wind.
“Not until the end of the month. Why? Can’t wait to get rid of me?” he responds with a playful smile, putting his hand on your back, pushing you over to the inside of the sidewalk, placing himself closest to the active road beside of you.
“Not even close,” you link your pinky with his, a habit you’ve gotten into anytime you’re walking beside him. “Dreading the day, actually. This is your first summer here, and you don’t even get to experience the best part!”
“I thought the best part was that you were here?” he references the statement you made when trying to convince him to make the trip to Michigan for the summer.
“Well, the next best part,” you respond, waving off his words. “You’re going to miss the boat parade on the Fourth of July!”
“A…boat parade?” Nico questions.
“Yes! A boat parade! Everyone decorates their boats and then drives them around the lake. Everyone here goes crazy for it. People don’t spare a single expense when it comes to boat decorations. One family even paid those statue street performers to play Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty on their boat on year,” you explain, earning a laugh from Nico.
“Why do I have the feeling you would have done that if you thought of it first?” he asks in-between chuckles.
“Because I would’ve! I was so mad that I didn’t even think of it. The only year we haven’t won it. Well, other than the years we haven’t been able to make it up here,” you shrug, thinking of all the time you’ve missed out on in the past few years.
“Well, you’ll have to come up with something even crazier this year. To make up for all the lost time,” Nico squeezes your pinkies closer together, knowing how much you hate the summers you can’t come here. “Look, you could go get a tattoo of the American flag, or something. Decorate your body, not just your boat. Really commemorate the summer,” he points to the tattoo shop you’re walking past, laughing at the craziness of the idea.
Maybe it was the heat finally getting to you. Maybe it was all the lake water you had swallowed the past few weeks. Or maybe it was the build-up of the months worth of feelings you’ve had for the man in front of you, but something in you made you say “Let’s go do it.”
“What?” Nico stopped in his tracks, looking over at you like you had three heads.
“I said let’s do it,” you said again, a serious look on your face.
“As in let’s go let you get a tattoo of the American Flag?” he asked again, confirming the idea forming in your brain.
“Yes. Well, I mean no. But yes,” you start, letting go of his pinky you were still holding on to. “I mean, let’s go get tattoos to commemorate the summer, like you said.”
“Like…right now?”
“Yes, right now. Why not? It’ll be fun. At the very least it’ll be a story to tell one day,” you try to convince him, acting as if this isn’t the most out of character thing you could suggest.
“I mean, what would we even get?” Nico asks, the word ‘no’ never coming out of his mouth.
“I don’t know, whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Or anywhere where everyone will see it. It can just be something we know we have, y’know?” you continue to try to convince him.
“Hey! Why’d you two stop? The ice cream shop is another block down.” Jack asks as the rest of the group approaches the two of you.
“Y/N is trying to convince me to go get a tattoo with her right now,” Nico tells everyone, earning a collection of shocked faces.
“You two? Getting matching tattoos?” Dawson asks, looking between the two of you.
“They don’t have to be completely matching. Just something to make us thinks of this moment. This summer,” you explain. “We could all get one, actually. As a group!”
“You’re out of your mind if you think any of us are getting tattoos right now,” Jack speaks up, not scared to call you out on your stupid ideas.
“I don’t think it’s that crazy of an idea. It could be fun,” Nico surprises everyone.
“Cap, are you serious? You’re thinking about going and getting a tattoo right now?” Alex questions.
“I’ve been thinking about getting another one for awhile now, so why not right now? Like she said, it’s a good summer memory, Holtzy” Nico shrugs, sounding like he’s made up his mind.
“Of course you would agree to get a matching tattoo with her. You guys are practically attached at the hip anyways,” Dawson says, causing both you and Nico to flush a light shade of pink. “You guys go have your fun, get matching tattoos, but we’ll be eating ice cream, loving the taste of no regrets,” Dawson gives up the fight.
“Just…don’t get each other’s names on your foreheads,” Jack says, shaking his head as he walks away.
Dawson and Alex follow Jack, grumbling about how they can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. Alex slides in a “at least ask her on a date first, cap” as he walks away, Nico praying you didn’t hear the comment.
You turn towards Nico, holding your hand out. “You ready?”
He takes your hand, letting you pull him into the tattoo shop’s open door. “Let’s go get tattoos together.”
An hour later, you and Nico walked out with two fresh wounds on your ankles.
Both of your tattoos were so small you truly had to look for them to notice them. You had ended up getting tattoos that were technically matching, but could have meaning on their own, too. The artist had laid out a bunch of stencils she had ready to go, letting you pick from the pile which ones you wanted. You had found a small heart with devil horns, pointing it out to Nico and jokingly suggested he get it to show his Devils heritage. At almost the exact same time, his eyes landed on a small heart with a halo over it, his eyes lighting up.
He had agreed to get the devil one only if you got the matching angel one. So, twenty minutes later, the stencils were placed and you both sat on the table as two different artists tattooed you simultaneously.
The rest of your small group teased the two of you about it for the rest of the summer. After Nico left at the end of that month, the conversation shifted from teasing about the tattoos, to teasing about when the two of you were finally going to admit your feelings to each other. You waved off their words, sticking to your explanation of you two being just friends, but they didn’t let you forget that, in their words, you ‘basically branded’ their captain.
When Nico arrived home, Nina immediately clocked the small tattoo on her brother’s leg, questioning him about it. He told her it was just a last-minute decision, something to do after the season was over, not wanting to hear any nagging about how irresponsible it was that he let a girl he was even dating talk him into getting a matching tattoo. But, when Nina saw your Instagram post at the end of the summer, the very last picture showcasing a small, familiar looking angel tattoo, she barged into Nico’s bedroom, demanding answers.
“Nico, you better explain to me what the hell is going on here, because last time we spoke you hadn’t even told her you have feelings for her yet,” Nina interrogated Nico in their native language.
“Yeah…well that hasn’t really changed. Just…haven’t found the chance yet,” he avoids talking about the tattoo, choosing to talk about the other half of her question.
“Well after this, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she moves back home after she graduates next year and just leaves me behind?” Nico voices his fears to his older sister.
“Nico, she asked you to get matching tattoos. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the same way as you. I haven’t even fully met the girl, only having talked to her on your facetime calls, and I can see that she’s head over heels for you,” Nina encourages Nico, causing a warm feeling in his chest at his sister’s words.
“Well, when you put it that way…” Nico trails off, thinking about the events of this summer in full. “You know what, you’re right. As soon as I get home, I’m telling her. What’s the harm? And if she doesn’t have feelings for me, well, at least we’ll always have tattoos together.”
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gammasnippets · 21 hours
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[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP61. Spotlighting 🐼 Part.4
fromis_9 Lee Seoyeon
10,141 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop)
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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! 🙇
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purple-writer8 · 1 day
Text
Suburban Legends - ACOTAR
Azriel x Winter Court Reader
“When you hold me, it holds me together.”
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warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, self loathing, reader is a handful, ice powers, groping, lesser fae slander
1.7k words
Part Two to Heather
Masterlist :)
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He kissed you. Azriel kissed you. And then you winnowed away, because he kissed you in a way that you knew would screw you up forever. Because Azriel could never love you. You were not soft like Elain, were not some soft baker with beautiful High Fae features.
No. You were just a winterling. A lesser fae that iced everything around her. You paced the House of Wind, paced and paced through the entire manor— scared out of your mind of seeing Azriel again. Why would he kiss you?
Your mind raced and raced and raced.
Azriel deserved someone better than you, he deserved Elain. Not some winterling that got jealous because of a sweater, jealous and you two weren’t even together. Oh, you were so embarrassed— you wanted to die. You got a quick snack in the kitchen, thanking the house for it, and then you rushed up to your room.
Cauldron, you would die of embarrassment if you saw Azriel.
The way that he kissed you, it killed you, because you knew that you were doomed. How were you supposed to live now that you had tasted him? He had kissed you out of pity, you were sure. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do.
As you ate your chips and dip, you noticed a shadow slithering underneath your door. You ignored it. He probably just wanted to know if you were freaking out or something.
You heard footsteps outside your door and froze when they stopped in front of it. You whispered a curse when your plate with your snack turned to ice, you really had to start controlling your powers.
A knock sounded against the wood of your door, and you wanted to die. You could feel the ice appearing through your body, invading your skin as it did whenever you were in distress— a winterling defense mechanism. You remained silent, unmoving, and after not answering the door for minutes, the shadow and it’s singer left— footsteps disappearing down the hall.
You were tempted to run out of your room and go after him but you were never going to do that. You would die of embarrassment if Azriel simply rejected you, telling you that he only kissed you because he felt bad.
-
Azriel knocked on your door every night for an entire week, maybe to reject you, or maybe to send you on a mission. You were not sure, but you had barricaded yourself in your room. If you were needed for a mission, Rhysand would reach you, you were sure. Your room had turned into a winter wonderland, your anxiety making your ice powers almost uncontrollable— and frankly unbearable. You were sure you had frost bite by now.
A knock sounded to your door, and instantly you turned to it, watching for the shadow that would always check on you when Azriel came. But no shadow appeared. “Darling? It’s me.”
Surely you could die from embarrassment when you heard the High Lord outside your door. You whimpered when more ice manifested from your fingertips, it fucking hurt and you were sure your fingers could be thawed off your hands any moment now.
Dark majestic talons caressed your mind, and you were tempted to let them in— but instead reinforced the walls that kept Rhysand out, because how fucking embarrassing is it to let your High Lord see how you’ve iced your entire room just because a guy doesn’t want you.
You are supposed to be better than that. But you weren’t.
“Open the door,” the High Lord ordered, and you complied.
His violet eyes widened when he took in the state of your room. “I… What… I… Ice.” Was all he managed to say as he stepped into the room, shivering as the cold hit him.
You smiled awkwardly, unnaturally, “hey.”
“So when Cassian said you turned his room into ice… he meant this?” Rhysand asked and you nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet. His eyes took in your form and you almost covered your face, but you didn’t. Because the one person who knew all your flaws and ugliness was your High Lord, and he accepted you that way.
It wasn’t a pretty sight when you lost control. As a winterling lesser, the powers that you had were all ice ones. You could wield ice from your fingertips, and when distress happened upon your body— ice bloomed through your flesh, because your blood turned cold. You weren’t good at controlling them; so when anxiety hit you, your veins turned black and you froze everything around you.
Every vein in your body was noticeable, your eyes were white, and you were covered in ice.
Rhysand was probably disgusted by you.
“Azriel says you’ve been cooped up here since game night. Says you won’t open the door for him.” Rhysand stated as he looked around your room, blinking slowly as he took in all of your belongings being frozen.
“For him. But I opened the door for you,” you answered sheepishly.
“He let me know what happened… that night when he went to get you outside… I…” You put your hand up when he said those words.
“I know. I know. He doesn’t like me. I was stupid to complain about a sweater. I mean, my audacity, right?” You laughed dryly. Rhysand frowned, eyeing you— then eyeing your room.
With a snap of his fingers, your room was back to normal. “We’re going out to Rita’s tonight, join us,” Rhysand stated simply, and you were about to decline, but his stern gaze told you that it was a command— not a suggestion.
“I would much rather stay in,” you try anyways. Rhysand shakes his head. “So you could drown in ice and self pity? Get a grip, darling.”
You don’t admit that it hurts. It was not self pity, it was self hate, loathing. You ultimately nod, because you know he is not gonna let you just wallow in your sadness even though it’s all that you want. “Talk to him,” Rhysand said before winnowing away.
You scoffed at nothing. Absolutely not. If he rejected you, which you were sure he would, it would cause you more self hate than you could ever deal with.
You got ready that night in your usual attire. Glittering gowns with diamonds that resembled little snowflakes, reminiscent of your origins. You would look at the clock as you did your hair, and when ten pm rolled around and Azriel did not knock like every other night that week— your whole life was ruined.
At eleven you called for Rhysand in your mind so he could take you down to Rita’s and that he did, though the flight was silent. You were not very fond of him ordering you to hang out when you were miserable.
At Rita’s, you wanted to die.
Azriel was there, sitting silently next to Elain. And instantly your evil mind was hoping she got poisoned by the cocktail she was gently and elegantly sipping.
You truly were unlovable and unlikeable, huh?
You could feel those hazel eyes on you, though no shadows came to greet you. You did not dare meet his gaze because you were sure you would hurl ice all over the floor, so you rushed to find your High Lady and Mor who were chatting by the bar.
They greeted you happily, chatting you up over things you could care less about— because how could you focus when you could see everyone fawning over the shadowsinger in your peripheral vision. He was so magnetic to every fae that it was almost obnoxious.
Feyre started talking about the mating bond with Mor, indulging her in a debate about whether all mates were meant to be. All you could do was fantasize about you and Azriel, mismatched as you may be, surprising the whole court by being mates.
A fae can dream.
A male appeared out of the blue— a handsome male— and he asked you to dance. You indulged him. It was better than standing there pretending to care about Feyre and Mor’s conversation. You loved them, but your mind was elsewhere.
The male danced to the music, swaying along with you, his eyes focused on your white ones. “Shit… I can imagine you sucking my cock with those looking up at me… a perfect lesser fuck,” you gasped at his lewd words because, what the fuck?!
Your heart thudded and you smelled danger, so you gave him an awkward smile and stepped back from him, only for him to snake one strong arm around your waist, tugging you close. “I-Uh, have to go,” you chuckled nervously, looking around for your friends, though the sea of people dancing made it near impossible for you to see their usual booth.
“What does a little lesser like you have to do that is better than being with me?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, an act that sent shivers down your spine. Fear. Which was stupid because you were a spy for the Night Court, you could handle him.
Before you could even snap at him, his hand groped your behind, causing you to gasp and push him away— but in that moment he was stronger, so he tugged you right back to his bulky body. “Who do you think you are?” You scoffed at him, a snarl on your face.
“I’m taking you home tonight, lesser.”
“Over my dead body.” The man stumbled backwards as he looked over your shoulder, to the shadowsinger that had appeared between the crowd. Every fae in the room turned to look at Azriel, at the icy rage that surfaced on his perfect face. He parted the crowd as he stood there, his wings tucked tight as he glared at the High Fae that had been harassing you.
A comforting shadow slinked to you, wrapping around your icy wrist gently. Its gentleness was a stark contrast to the sheer anger it’s master exuded from his being.
“Fuck… I didn’t know… didn’t know she was yours, shadowsinger.”
“Now you know not to fucking touch my mate.”
-
Author’s Note:
this definitely needs a part three i know
General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs
Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark
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