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neowinestainedress · 7 months

Text

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.

genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)

warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n

visuals

wc: 16.590k

a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don’t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡

The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.

You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.

You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through.

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you.

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It’s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open. You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement.

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed.

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face.

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small.

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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n3ptoonz · 4 months

Note

mind writing for the Earthrealm men getting caught masturbating by the reader??👀

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to getting caught 🥩 👊🏾 by reader

warnings: suggestive; a lil steamy, i play too much (was sick and ovulating while writing this help me god), GERAS SPOTTED???

reverse roles here

Johnny Cage

Left the door open on purpose. WIDE OPEN. There he lied on his silk linens, blasting Marvin Gaye and going to town without taking his eyes off the door. Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he added a sexy ninja mime (i will never stop referencing past games) to act out him getting caught

When you "catch" him all you can do is facepalm, but it's outta love. Expect to have him let loose 50 cheesy pick up lines, dick in hand and all. Like he would still jerk it like he wasn't stuttering over his words once you took over

If you join the cheesy line fun, he may or may not cum on the spot. He loves when you're playful back. And tease him a lot. But like. Way more than he teases you. He can and will fall in love all over again (he will also bust quickly to this too. MULTIPLE times)

Raiden

This cutie pie. Snookums bbg. Blushing like a fool because you managed to overhear him utter your name multiple times in a hushed voice dripping with lust

I fully see him falling out of his bed and scrambling to pull his covers down with him just to cover his lower half. He gets even more nervous when he sees you not even attempting to leave, but instead having an inviting look on your face

Cue the comically loud gulp sound effect. His pretty brown eyes never left your figure, sitting on the hardwood floor with a painful erection between his thighs under a rather comfortable blanket. You'd have to ask if he wants help from your own lips, otherwise no sound would be in the room other than steady breathing and his heart thumping loud as hell (he says yes at the speed of light)

Smoke

Deer in headlights. One minute ago he was furiously zerkin it like there was no tomorrow, slutty sounds escaping his lips with no shame. Now he's like...oh...! You heard that..? Ahahah..

Would apologize so many times he ends up doing it in Czech. Please tell him it's okay😭In fact you'd only shut him up by telling him it was hot

Activates self indulgence beam I think...he'd be into it if you told him to finish what he started. Like sitting in a chair and watching him and he's not allowed to close his eyes- IM GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF (fic idea huehue)(if you write it before me, tag me.) But also albeit he stumbles over his words, he'd find some sort of way to ask for your help

Geras

WHAT!!! GERAS I KNOW WTF WHAT yeah he may be an immortal being but the man has his own needs. And is it even a question like...you're wondering how THAT fits in his hand like jesus christ you're going to kill someone sir (i got next)

It's nothing extravagant. He wasn't summoned by Liu Kang for a while, so he figured why not? He doesn't get much time to himself so let's crank one real quick 👀

Think of any scene from mk11 where he got "hurt" and was grunting, that's the sounds he was making and you could hear it through his door. But you thought he was hurt, so you came through the door just to be greeted by a SNAKE in his grip

Surprisingly calm...almost too calm...did he predict this? Who knows, all we know is you interrupted him and would definitely like your help. Does not shy away from this request too but that's how we like it 😈

Liu Kang

A similar incident with Geras. You overheard him while you wandered through his mansion trying to find and surprise him. So when you finally found his bedroom door and barged in, thinking he needed help, there he was dick in hand and completely unexpecting

He would try to remain calm but it would be clear as day that he was nervous. He'd quickly cover up with a pillow and give a small smile, asking if you needed anything like he wasn't shirtless and heart pumping at mach speeds

In his mind was like a static sound as he tried to focus on not getting hard again looking at you, feeling a little guilty as he couldn't help his instincts. I guess the God contract never said escaping from mortal desires! You offer to join the fun and he's like HUH...well, if you insist! (again he looks calm but is very, very excited, i promise)

Kung Lao

He had been schmeat beating after his long days of training so this isn't a new occurrence for him. But obviously, you've never walked in on him before. He was always able to get it done before he saw or met with you

Normally you rendezvous to Madam Bo's but you're like hm, why not bring him something to eat since you know he had a long day! Once you entered it didn't take you long to hear him calling your name from his room, so naturally you thought he knew you were here. But...it started to become like a chant. His voice breathy and deep (save me shaolin monk save me-) So when you check it out you find him with his head thrown back, hair messy and coated in sweat

The favoritism is leaking through the screen LMFAOOO He heard the door creak and yelped, asking why you were there so early out of breath you held the to-go bag in your hands with pure shock, immediately getting the idea to tease the shit out of him. He does it to you all the time, why not return the favor?! And he's like well?? Are you gonna help??? UH YA I WAS GETTING TO THAT😹😹

Scorpion

Kuai Liang rarely ever has the time to even talk to you, let alone talk to himself! So one of the few times he didn't think you were showing up to the temple but he had time to himself that he didn't think would last very long, he just needed to relieve his own stress real quick

Damn, he forgot he invited you to the temple since it was a slow day. You were appointed to his room by one of the recruits and sang his name, opening the door to the sound of squelching and panting

Your little song came to a stop at the same time of his gasp; eyes locked on yours. He wanted to smile, and drop everything to greet you like the situation wasn't what it was, but before he could even begin to hide himself you calmly close the door and watch his demeanor quickly switch to smug...it's gonna be a long day for the both of you😮‍💨

Sub-Zero

I'm using the same scenario from my first bi-han fic bc i said so, bite me!

He was avoiding you because he couldn't control himself around you any longer. The more he thought about you and how you pissed him off to great lengths before has him wanting to do terrible...terrible things (shoutout loki)(i've never seen loki) but he must suffice with pleasuring himself to the thought of you, the way your voice rang in his head, and how hot you looked patching up his injuries

When you caught him oh he was so sexually frustrated he couldn't think straight, panically pulling you into his room dick swinging and all. The scowl on his face didn't match the pink blush that was starting to form at how you looked at him. Why you were at his door is the least of his concerns, if you don't help him take care of this right now he might lose his mind 🥹

Kenshi Takahashi

He wasn't supposed to be last but I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and lost my notes on him so. LETS TRY THIS SHIT AGAIN.

When you caught him he was so so embarrassed. Don't let the calm and hot and sexy demeanor fool you, when it came to you it's like he's a clone; unrecognizable. He was stuttering and trying to justify whatever you just saw but then also asks why you showed up unannounced

You explain he said to come around this time a few days ago to spend some time together, and now he was mentally kicking himself bc how could he forget something so simple?! But hey, the fact that you weren't even budging, and even approaching him with a smile on your face told him all he needed to know. And who is he to say no to some help from a fine individual like you???

a/n: cranked this request out for y'all (fic might be posted today) this is a gift from me to you guys 😄 happy christmas and merry holidays to any and all cultures that do or don't celebrate during this time fr ❤️

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

Text

leveling the playing field // epilogue

summary: seven years later.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. this part is quite tame! idk, discussion of the games as a concept is pretty messed up? obviously r & coryo are both delusional but whats new??

a/n: this is it :') thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

~ seven years later ~

"You've got this, Darling. It's going to be perfect." Coryo insists, kissing your temple as you relentlessly adjust your hair, trying to tame any imaginary flyaways in your flawlessly straightened hair.

"As long as it's not a disaster..." You mumble, giving up on your hair and refocusing on making sure you have all your papers.

Arena map? Check. Tribute and mentors list? Check. Schedule?

"With you in charge, I do not doubt that it will be anything short of flawless. I know you. You wouldn't have it any other way." Your husband assures you, taking your spot in front of the large mirror to adjust his red coat, matching to yours.

You sigh, tucking the large stack of meticulously organized papers into your bag. "I mean, does anyone honestly expect it to be perfect? It's my first games... There's a small margin for error, right?"

"No." Coryo replies sternly, turning to face you. He grabs your chin as you groan, forcing your eyes to meet his. "There's no room for error, but it will be perfect. So don't worry." He plants a gentle kiss on your lips. "And if you need anything, just call."

"Okay..." You hum, smiling as you look up at him. "I'm going to miss you, though." Your smile shifts into a pout, and he kisses your forehead.

"I know. I'll miss having my assistant around, too." He mumbles against the softness of your skin.

Your time working together under Dr. Gaul had been a dream. Why did everything have to change all at once? You've been together every day for years, and you had the most fun helping plan the games and pitching all your ideas to Dr. Gaul, staying up late over ideas due the next morning and too many cups of coffee, giggling over how funny it would be to see a games where the people of the Districts got to vote over who to send in.

"Do you think it's because that's kind of what happened to Lucy Gray?" You giggled in the dark, feeling Coryo's form shift under the blankets next to you before you felt his breath hit the side of your face.

"Now that you mention it..." He laughed quietly. "Yeah, it totally was."

You had always come up with Dr. Gaul's favourite ideas together. But now, she was gone. And it was just you. You honestly thought that woman was some kind of immortal beast, but clearly, no one is fully bulletproof.

She had offered the position of Head Gamemaker to both of you in her will. You and Coriolanus had worked well together, she had always said that about you. That the two of you were her favourite experiment.

"No, Darling. You take it."

"What? No, we've always done everything together." You protest, furrowing your brow. "She's offered it to both of us, we can do whatever we want, no more waiting for her approval. We can run with it! Come on, it'll be so fun, Coryo."

"That's your dream. Not mine." He smiled at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You frowned, focussing yourself on pulling the buttons of his shirt so they were perfectly aligned. "Are... Are you sure? I don't know if I can do it without you."

"You'll never do anything without me, you know that." He hummed, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "If you need help, just ask. I'm right here. Always."

"I'm not an assistant anymore." You laugh. "Technically, you're kind of my assistant now." You shrug, leaning down to pull on your shoes, white with bottoms red to match your coat.

"Okay, well, I wouldn't put it like that..." He laughs, shaking his head at you and holding out a hand to steady you while you adjust yourself to accommodate your heels.

You take it gratefully, standing up and brushing off your coat once more with your free hand. "Be honest, Coryo, do you think the bear is too much? I feel a little like it's cheating, they don't even really have a chance. Do you get what I mean?"

"Darling," He cups your cheeks in his hands. "No one will be able to look away. That's the most important part."

"I just... I want it to be something different. Something people will still want to watch."

"Everyone will be watching." He assures you. "Now, let's get going. You have a big day ahead."

"Yes sir, Mister President."

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, your favourite and only host of the annual Hunger Games on Capitol TV, and I have a very special treat for you all this morning before the beginning of the games." You gently remove your coat as you sit down across from Lucky, holding it out for someone to take before the cameras flit your way, though the live audience can already see you.

"For anyone who lives under a rock, this beautiful woman here with me is our lovely First Lady of Panem, and now, Head Gamemaker, Dr. Y/N Snow." He continues as your coat is taken away, and you smile across at him. "Thank you so much for squeezing us into your very busy schedule. Now, how are you feeling about today, Miss Snow?"

"Doctor is fine." You correct him politely, to which he utters a quick apology. "And I am feeling very good about my first games. Dr. Gaul left some big shoes to fill, but I've been working with her for years so I have some really exciting ideas that I just can't wait for the world to see."

"Yes! I'm certain you do." Lucky grins. "Now, I don't know how much of our audience will remember this, but the first time we met was during the tenth games, I was hosting for the first time and you and your husband were both mentors! Just young academy students with some big dreams, isn't that right?"

You laugh, nodding as he speaks and letting the cheers die down. "Yes, I remember that. All of us were kind of getting a feel for how things would work, and my husband was actually the one who came up with the ideas of betting and sponsorships. He has truly always been such a leader, and so smart. He was the one who asked Dr. Gaul if I could help him with his mentorship, and she agreed, and then she just really loved how well we worked together so she kept us around to study under her all these years. It has been such a fun and kind of... fulfilling journey for us both."

"And now, here you are." He nods at you.

"Here I am." You echo it back to him, waiting for another question.

"Now, we have to address what can only be described as the elephant in the room..." He starts, and you try and hide your confused look as you straighten your posture. If there was some kind of problem you should have been made aware before you set foot on stage. "That summer, after your mentorship. Tell us. What happened? Both of you disappeared off the face of the earth right after your success in the games, then came back with these shiny new internships under Dr. Gaul, how did you swing that?"

"Oh!" You laugh, partially relieved it wasn't about these games, but hesitant because everyone knows better than to bring up the tenth games in any sort of detail. "Well, that was the beginning of our internship with Dr. Gaul, and she wanted us to gain some life experience, so we did some touring of the Districts on our own to get to know the people of Panem better. Neither of us had ever left home before, so it was definitely a unique experience that I think was really good for both of us. It was a super secret thing, for some reason. We weren't even to tell our families."

"I see! Well, I hope you learned everything you sought out to?"

"We did." You nod. "And more."

"Okay, well, with that cleared up, tell us more about the games you have planned for us this year. Is there anything new we should be expecting?"

"Oh, definitely." You nod, smiling wide now that you can once again talk about your games. "But I wouldn't want to spoil anything, so everyone will just have to watch." You shrug.

"I don't know if you are aware of this, Dr. Snow," He leans in a little closer, smile on his face. "But one new thing that we know for sure is changing this year, is that the president, your husband, has made it mandatory to watch the games. Not just here in the Capitol, but everywhere in the Districts as well. He made an announcement just this morning, he wants everyone to see what you've worked so hard for."

"Aw." You blush, pressing your hands to your chest. "That's so sweet! No, I didn't know that." The audience eats up your reaction, and you try to keep your eyes on him instead of acknowledging all the clapping and shouts from below you.

"Well, that's just about the cutest surprise! He has a lot of confidence in you." He laughs, reaching over and patting your leg. "You've all heard it here, he's just as good a husband as he is a president!"

"It's true." You agree, hardly audible over the crowds enthusiasm.

"Speaking of your husband..." He says, turning back to look into the wing of the stage and nodding at someone. "He set us up with a little surprise for you, if you don't mind."

"Oh, please." You laugh, covering your face as your cheeks heat up. "Of course he did." You shake your head, whistles from the audience not helping your blush.

"Okay, you can look now. Don't hide!" Lucky laughs, and you lower your hands from in front of your face to be presented with a bouquet of white and red roses. It wasn't an extravagant gift from him, the amount of roses he has gifted to you since your return from Twelve together is astronomical by now, but it's a gesture you cherish nonetheless. You smile as you take them.

"Beautiful, as always." You grin, making a point of smelling them before handing them back to the assistant who's waiting with a vase for them.

"And we have one more thing here, I believe..." He hums, looking back again while you're distracted passing off the wrapped flowers.

When you turn back to look at him you gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth, fearless of whether or not you would smudge your lipstick. "Is that for me?" You ask, voice higher in octave from the excitement as one of the stagehands walks out with a small dog, fur dyed a soft shade of red with a matching bow around its neck.

"Indeed it is!" Lucky laughs as you're handed the puppy.

"Oh my god..." You smile, tears brimming in your eyes. "Hi there..."

"I think there's a note for you there too..." Lucky urges you and you grab the tag tied onto the bow. "Mind reading it for us?" He says, holding his handkerchief out to you.

"Thank you," You laugh, dabbing under your eyes with your free hand. "A new assistant to match your shoes." You read, laughing at the inside joke.

Everyone laughs, and you get from Lucky's confused expression that you should explain. "Uh, working under Dr. Gaul we would always joke that he was my assistant and vice versa." You laugh, wiping your eyes again before you continue. "I am so proud of you. Finally, the world will see you as I do. Intelligent, strong, and beautiful. Unstoppable. That's why I love you, you're as pure as the driven Snow."

The audience awe's, but you know none of them get it the way you do. "Another inside joke." You nod at Lucky, trying to hold back from crying so much you turn into a mess.

"I stand corrected. That is the cutest surprise." He points to the dog in your lap. "Both literally and figuratively."

"I don't know what I'll do with it." You laugh, shaking your head as the puppy jumps up against your chest, trying to lick your face.

"How about a name, to start?" Lucky prompts you.

"Oh, gosh. Well..." You giggle, lifting it and setting it back down so it will sit in your lap. It's so small, hardly bigger than your hands. It'll likely never grow larger than your lap. It's perfect. "What about Lucky?" You tease.

"Oh, you flatter me, Y/N. Come on, something better."

"I don't know!" You laugh. "I'm not good at naming... things."

Lucky laughs. "Our Head Gamemaker with no ideas? That seems unlikely."

"Okay, okay. You're just putting me on the spot here, I'm a little nervous." You laugh, stroking over the dog's head. "I tell you what, before the games begin this morning I'll come up with twelve names, assign them randomly to the districts, then whoever shall win the games will determine the name of my dog. Does that sound fair?"

"Ah! That's brilliant!" Lucky laughs, clapping his hands together. "And that's a good incentive for anyone who hasn't yet placed their bets or sent in donations for the tributes! Your donation may just be what gives the First Lady's dog its name. How fun!"

"It'll be interesting." You giggle, looking down at the puppy in your lap. It must have been white before the dye, it took so well. Maybe it will fade into a pink before it grows out its natural white fur- you wouldn't want it to stay red forever, but for show, it was perfect.

"Now, we really shouldn't be taking up any more of your time. You have a busy day ahead!" Lucky says and you nod in agreement, standing up and carefully tucking the small dog under your arm. "Thank you for making time for us, I know I'm looking forward to seeing what you have in store for us."

"Thank you. I really hope you all enjoy the games!" You smile, holding out a hand for him to shake which he takes quickly, then allowing you to walk off the stage.

As predicted by a certain Mister President; Coriolanus Snow, your first games as Head Gamemaker went without a hitch. They were perfect in every way. Capitol citizens were buzzing- not just about the games, the mutts you incorporated into the newly decorated arena, or the most shocking kills, but also about your dog. The people loved her, and so did you. She hardly ever left your lap or your side for the duration of the games, which only lasted a matter of days.

The party your husband threw for you at the presidential palace, your home, at the end of the games was extravagant. Coryo couldn't help but broadcast his pride to all of the Capitol. He loved you; you were his, and he needed everyone to know. Not a soul in all the world was anywhere close to being on your level, and shaping you into the perfect wife and First Lady was what Coriolanus Snow considered his greatest achievement. As you stood next to him, his palm tucked neatly against your lower back, you were perfect. More perfect than you were the day you fought for a spot in the mentorships that he granted you, more perfect than the he first time he kissed you, and more perfect than both of the days he had killed someone for you. Without question, he would do it all again if it meant he would get to hold you even just one more time.

"I'm so proud of you, Love." He gently rubs your back, looking down at you while you overlook your garden from the patio off of your bedroom.

You smile, standing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Snow lands on top." You whisper, biting your lip when you see a shift behind his eyes.

"You bet we do." He hums with a smug smile, lifting you up and carrying you back inside.

And somewhere, thousands of miles away in the Northern shambles of a still recovering District Thirteen, while you and your husband are celebrating, Sejanus Plinth and Lucy Gray Baird share knowing, sorrowful glances when it's announced on the crackling radio that the winner of the Seventeenth Annual Hunger Games was a boy from District Two, and because of this, the First Lady of Panem's dog shall be called Sage.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!

#tbosas #coriolanus snow #hunger games #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow

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itsclydebitches · 5 months

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Zevlor: An Angsty Character Analysis

Hey, Zevlor simps. Can I interest anyone in 4,000 words about our favorite disaster tiefling? 💀

“We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—we’re no fighters.”

Back during my first play-through this is the line that turned Zevlor from another dime-a-dozen, exposition spouting NPC to a character I was legitimately interested in. “We’re no fighters.” My DnD ignorance abounds, but even I could see that wasn’t an accurate statement. Here’s a mountain of a man sporting fancier armor than my level 2 Tav knows exists yet, having wrecked half the goblin hoard with his crossbow and, if you let him, he'll happily turn to punching as a solution to verbal disagreements. Plus, he’s clearly the one giving the orders, so what do you mean you’re not a fighter?

Having explored the Grove a bit I chalked it up to a generalized assessment of the refugees as a whole. They’re mostly kids, civilians, and would-be protectors who only look the part of fighters in cobbled-together armor. One woman is grappling with the guilt of killing someone for the first time, even an enemy. Lakrissa is sure they’re all going to get slaughtered and is willing to put money on that fact. Meanwhile, the couple you meet are more concerned with what pet they’ll get when they somehow, someway, make it to the city. Don't worry about how that'll happen. You learn later that even those like Ronan are small potatoes compared to most of the baddies you’ll face. On paper he looks and sounds like the real deal—dressed in robes, talking up an apprenticeship with the famous Lorroakan—but scenes like the celebration light show and his own fury at needing to be saved, again, highlight how far he still has to go. The point is that Zevlor is right: these aren’t fighters and he at 18 strength, paladin, former commander, is definitely the exception.

However, BG3 is the sort of detail-heavy game where I’d expect them to include that exception in the dialogue. “We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—these people aren’t fighters.” Zevlor’s inclusion of himself in this assessment continued to nag at me and it didn’t start to make sense until I delved into his tag here on tumblr, with more patient players than myself posting everything there is to know about the tiefling. (Thanks, all.) Zevlor is fascinating to me in part because he has this contradictory nature, one example of which is that he’s a very talented fighter who desperately doesn’t want to be a fighter anymore.

…but also he totally does.

We overhear in his dialogue to Tilses that Zevlor is adamant about shedding the titles he’s earned through combat: Hellrider, Commander, Sir. He insists that they’re just civilians now and it’s not like he’s being disingenuous here—note that he introduces himself as just “Zevlor” to Tav. Zevlor means what he says to Tilses and we can see that he’s trying to both reinforce his point and lesson the blow by referring to her as “Tilly.” The nickname is a sweet one, hinting at their close bond in just a single word, reminding her that he’s not saying this to hurt her, he cares for her… but the nickname is simultaneously something he never would have used as her commander. The intimacy meant to comfort is also a hard blow to weather. They're now people who use nicknames inappropriate for the hierarchy of battle.

So Zevlor means what he says here, means it enough that Tilses is convinced and drops her use of “Commander,” but there’s definitely a hint of bitterness in his voice. At least, I’ve always heard it. Zevlor is steadfast in his conviction here, even going so far as to say, “I’m done soldiering, Tilly” when discussing what will come next at Baldur’s Gate. Yet for all of that his tone conveys (understandable) anger and disappointment that it’s come to this. Zevlor doesn’t act like someone who truly wants this change, but rather someone who’s been forced to accept it.

Is it outside forces unwillingly influencing him then? Did Avernus truly change things irrevocably? No, not really. At least, not in the way Zevlor likes to claim. Tilses herself states that being a Hellrider is for life; nothing can take away that title. You lost your post? Your whole city? Most of the people under your protection? Doesn’t matter! You’re a Hellrider forever, no matter the circumstances. I can easily picture a time in Zevlor's life where he would have agreed with Tilses wholeheartedly. They are Hellriders, dammit, and so long as there’s one person looking for their help they will wield that title alongside their blades. And right now, Zevlor has a lot more than just one person in need of his assistance.

So it’s not that Avernus truly stripped them of that identity. Nothing can do that. Zevlor is not rejecting titles and planning retirement because the mechanisms of fate are forcing him to.

He’s doing all that because he’s lost confidence in himself.

Even as someone with a shaky understanding of DnD classes, I love the parallel between a broken oath and the rejection of a lifelong title. If Zevlor can fail in his oath—or in his faith entirely, according to the memories stemming from his pod—why-ever would he think that any other ‘permanent’ part of his identity was worth fighting for? If you can loose the very thing you’ve built your entire life around, every important aspect of yourself, tied to your very soul… what’s a bestowed title compared to that? Zevlor doesn’t believe himself worthy of being a Hellrider anymore, but I think that goes deeper than a string of horrific circumstances making him feel incompetent. As an Oathbreaker, Zevlor likely believes that if he couldn’t uphold that, he can’t uphold anything. Calling himself a Hellrider would be a lie. A fiction. A pathetic, dangerous, insulting fiction at that. It’s like calling yourself the “Hero” while continually failing those around you. Sure, others might insist it’s a title you’ve earned, one you will always carry with you, but you don’t believe them anymore and at a certain point calling yourself that feels worse than embracing the title of “Villain." You don’t want to be the villain… but you want to pretend you’re the hero even less. Pretending is exhausting.

We see this struggle in the many ways that Zevlor fails, or almost fails, to uphold the ideals that originally guided him. I use the term “villain” above deliberately because Zevlor is not merely a former hero-type who’s self confidence has been shattered, or who has been reduced to a civilian, or who thinks themselves useless; he’s actively fighting against temptations that, under less stressful situations, he’d never even consider. I don’t think he is a villain, I think he’s a flawed, struggling victim who sees his own, inevitable mistakes as villainous—and the longer that warped perspective continues the easier it is to fall into bad behaviors. This cycle is perfectly summarized in the autobiography Zevlor keeps by his bed:

“When every passer-by thinks you a thief and a heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one.”

We don’t know if this is Zevlor’s autobiography (as far as I’m aware, anyway) but even if it’s not the words have clearly resonated enough for him to keep them nearby. This particular line paints a pretty clear picture of Zevlor’s struggle. If everyone you meet says you’re devil-kin, vermin, or would-be criminal, isn’t it easier to just give them what they want? If you can’t persuade them otherwise, why put in the effort of trying? If he can’t be Faithful to his God, why have faith in anything at all? If he can’t save these people—setback after setback, mistake after mistake—why is he even making the effort?

Zevlor obviously is trying, very, very hard, which is why such thoughts are merely temptations rather than actual, questionable actions. Still, the Grove gives us numerous examples of the precipice he’s balanced on—and the ways Tav can tip him in one direction or another. You can talk Zevlor down from his anger and get him to acknowledge his disgust in nearly sinking to Aradin’s level. You can also let him boil over and punch the human at a time when the last thing anyone needs is more violence. You can convince Zevlor that there are peaceful ways of stopping Kagha's ritual, or you can help him in pursuing the darker temptation to kill her. It’s a “low” thought, but at his own admission he hasn’t been above entertaining it. Zevlor’s requests for help, though always polite and humble, carry a spark of manipulation in them too. He’s not above leveraging your previously selfless good deed to his advantage—"She owes you for saving this grove"—and if you approach him before speaking with Kagha he’ll claim that the ritual will “be trouble—for all of us.” Except, no? Not really? Tav can make it clear that they’re just here for a healer, they’re only passing through, and as a fighter they are not beholden to the Grove’s sanctuary as the teiflings are. It’s not trouble for everyone involved, yet Zevlor frames it as such in the hopes that (unnecessary) self-interest may motivate you if selflessness fails. Finally, if Zevlor dies in your play-through and you use Speak the Dead on him, he will admit to having “plenty” of secrets, none of which he’ll share. Admittedly, this may be the result of cut content, specifically a story-line in which Zevlor knowingly betrays the tieflings rather than being tricked by the Absolute. Still, the game as it stands is the story we have and within it we’re given a man who is both fighting against these dark urges (ha) and has a past riddled with secrets. If Zevlor is anything, it’s blunt when it comes to his own failings, accurate and otherwise. So how terrible must these secrets be that he outright refuses to divulge them when, generally speaking, most corpses speak freely in death?

However, out of all of this the struggle I’m most intrigued by is the one surrounding the gate. Zevlor represents the tieflings: persecuted refugees, vulnerable civilians, people seeking to survive through cooperation, specifically by joining a community. Kagha represents the druids (or at least a vocal subset of them in Halsin’s absence): bigoted individuals, powerful fighters, people seeking to survive by giving in to their fears, specifically by keeping themselves isolated. This is the moral dichotomy of the Grove and it is symbolized through the gate. Zevlor wants to open it to everyone whereas Kagha wants to close it, permanently.

So isn’t it odd that Zevlor is the one ordering it shut?

When the scene first starts Kanon shouts down that no, he won’t open the gate. Zevlor said that no one is allowed in. Notably, he’s saying this to Aradin and his crew, people that the Grove is at least passingly familiar with, given that Halsin left with them to search the temple. It’s also notable that Zevlor isn’t expecting goblins to attack the Grove. He’s shocked that this is suddenly a problem, brought about by Aradin’s decision—“You lead them here?”— and the entire point of staying at the Grove is that it’s at least comparatively safe. Yes, there have been more attacks lately, but Zevlor seems to be relying on the Grove’s relatively unknown location, as well as the fact that goblins are normally disorganized. The safety is only compromised because Aradin brought a hunting party back, so Zevlor has no reason to expect any visitors, let alone ones that would be a threat.

More importantly, he should welcome such visitors even if he did expect them. After all, that’s precisely what the tieflings are: strangers with no ulterior motives other than to survive. Broadly speaking it makes perfect sense why he'd shut the gates. Zevlor’s first priority is to his people, so anything that keeps them safe is, theoretically, a good thing. But through the lens of his specific characterization and this specific, moral dilemma, it’s an awfully hypocritical decision. Based on everything we’ve seen, our party would not have been welcomed by Zevlor if we’d arrived without danger on our heels and a rescue to endear him to us. So his people should be welcomed, trusted, kept safe, given the benefit of the doubt… but Zevlor isn’t necessarily willing to extend that same trust to others. At the end of the day, he and Kagha want a version of the same thing: safety for those they deem are worthy of it.

It’s precisely these flaws and temptations that make Zevlor such a great character to me, even before he’s tricked by the Absolute. The fandom has leaned hard into Zevlor’s self-loathing and let me tell you, I love it (kisses, hugs, and cookies for you all), but canonically I think he has more reason to fear himself than we tend to portray in the H/C fics. I’m not saying he’s a bad person. Rather, it’s precisely because Zevlor is such a good person that he has the capacity to fall so far. It’s his all-consuming desire to protect his family that leads Zevlor to do and consider so much that a paladin would normally balk at. Denying others the safety you’ve been granted. Subtly manipulating others to do your dirty work. Considering murder.

Zevlor is someone torn between doing the Right Thing and the thing he believes will help those under his care survive. Importantly, when we first meet him he considers these to be two separate courses of action. So can you imagine what goes through his head when he first sees Tav saving everyone and doing so righteously? I think it’s integral to Zevlor’s characterization that the game all but forces you to play the Good Guy in that initial encounter. A cut scene starts, you’re thrown into combat immediately afterwards, and unless you plan to start attacking the Grove members alongside the goblins (which the mechanics discourage through the coloring that distinguishes enemies from allies) you will always finish this fight as Zevlor’s hero. Sure, you can be an asshole afterwards and demand payment. You could already be plotting your betrayal and the slaughter of all the refugees. But in this moment you are nothing but a miracle made flesh in his eyes. Right from the start Tav is succeeding in all the ways Zevlor feels like he's failed. You're the hero.

More specifically, you’re an Every-Man Hero. We might have epic backstories for our Tavs, but within confines of the game you’re largely a nobody when not playing an Origin character. How powerful must that have been to witness then? A total stranger, someone who has no ties to the tieflings or even, depending on your class, any sworn reason to help others, putting their life on the line to save what is most precious to Zevlor? I think a lot about the fact that he never asks Wyll to step in and try to change Kagha’s mind. She owes him just as much as she does Tav—Wyll is an equal participant in that fight and, if your shoddy play style is anything like mine, he likely did more damage—and Wyll is clearly invested in the tiefling’s survival, training the kids as he is. Now, obviously Zevlor’s reticence is largely a question of assigned roles (we need to be the one engaging with Kagha because we’re the protagonist/player) but, like Zevlor’s choice to include himself in the Not a Fighter group, it would have been all too easy to explain this away within the narrative. One comment about how Wyll already tried and failed, or how Kagha doesn’t trust Warlocks, or hell, maybe you don’t meet Wyll in the Grove at all. It’s an easy thing to accomplish and though this is edging more into the realm of headcanon than anything else, I can’t help but think that Wyll isn’t the kind of person that Zevlor could turn to for help right now. Because he’s a folk hero. The Blade of Frontiers, known far and wide for his impressive, selfless deeds. Zevlor is struggling so hard to keep the tieflings safe, tempted by all the unsavory solutions that might achieve that, drowning in self-hatred as his past and current failings catch up with him, wanting nothing more than to be his peoples’ protector:

“I would be a paladin again—with a god’s purpose, a god’s power. Everything I needed to protect my people. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran, and died around me, while I imagined myself their savior.”

Three of the things Zevlor mutters while trapped in the pod are “Hellrider… for… life…,” “Trust… in me…,” and “Children… look away… look at me…” He wants to be the protector, the one children look to for reassurance, he wants his words to Tilly to be a lie and he wants a way to prove that he is a Hellrider for life… but he’s not. At least, Zevlor doesn’t believe it. He lost his titles while Wyll still proudly bears his. Wyll trains the children to fight while Zevlor can only get swept up in anger at them being threatened. The people trust Wyll, adore him, he’s the hero and Zevlor… is not. Not anymore.

It’s too painful to approach Wyll and admit all that. That would be a hell of a blow to Zevlor's pride. But Tav? A stranger? A nobody? The Every-man who had no reason to help or reputation pressuring them, saving them anyway? That’s inspiring. Someone like Tav could be the answer and even, perhaps, the proof that Zevlor could redeem himself. Neither of them are folk heroes, untouchable in their assumed perfection. Tav is a living, breathing example of how the flawed, everyday adventurer can be everything Zevlor strives for.

No wonder he won’t shut up about them in the Shadowlands.

All of this is why it’s so tragic that Zevlor wasn’t given a redemption arc. Sure, you can recruit him for the final battle against the Netherbrain, but there’s no quest to change the cast’s opinion of him—or change Zevlor’s opinion of himself. All his content at the end of Act 2 and Act 3 reinforces that self-hatred.

Let’s make a list, shall we?

Nearly every line of his reunion with Tav has Zevlor painting himself in the worst light possible, from “a lie kinder than the truth” to his refusal to join you because he believes he’ll stab you in the back. You cannot convince him of the Absolute’s manipulation and there’s no response to his belief that such horrors start within the person like, “Of course it does! Because we’re all flawed and equally capable of good and evil deeds! That potential doesn’t make you irredeemable, Zevlor, it makes you mortal!!”

He’s utterly failed as his peoples’ champion and he’s also deemed “unworthy” of being a True Soul. Obviously not being chosen by the Absolute is a good thing, but for a man drowning in self-loathing that’s one hell of a complicated rejection.

Nearly all the tieflings hate him now, all those people he’s been sacrificing his soul to keep safe. I found it particularly devastating that this is one of the rare occasions where nailing a persuasion check doesn’t change the person’s mind. There’s at least one tiefling at Moonrise (I’m drawing a blank on her name) who will believe you when you explain how the Absolute influenced Zevlor, but that doesn’t lead to forgiveness.

Zevlor is deemed unimportant on a literal, narrative level. He is very easy to miss in the pods (I nearly did on my first play-through) and the game does incredibly little to dissuade you from that mistake. Putting aside for a moment that obviously an Origin companion is more significant than a minor NPC, compare this to Shadowheart screaming from her own pod, the game making it abundantly clear that this is someone in need of help—someone worth rescuing. She’ll even say later that you could have run past, more concerned with your own survival and the big picture heroics to bother with her. How must it feel then, if Zevlor ever learns that Tav was there and never stopped for him?

If you do miss Zevlor… oh boy. We’ve probably all seen at least a recording of Orin’s so-called gift. There are plenty of characters who can meet untimely and devastating ends, but very few go through this level of horror. Zevlor—after being held captive, remember—is tortured by God’s Favorite Torturer. He is stripped of his personhood and reduced to a mere “message,” a “pet.” Zevlor is further humiliated in death by being literally stripped of his armor—not just vulnerable in his nakedness, but denied the last symbol of his faith, his status, his power—and it’s always struck me that this is the closest we see to him 'enjoying' an intimate moment, this parody in Orin’s painting. Zevlor is one of the NPC’s most in need of physical comfort and instead he’s forced into this torturous mockery of a sex scene. It also hits hard that when Tav first spots his body the narration says that Zevlor “might almost be sleeping.” Undoubtedly this is a man who isn’t taking good care of himself. He needs a good night’s rest, yet this horrifying trick is all he gets.

As if all this weren’t enough, most of your companion are VERY critical of Zevlor while commenting on his demise. It’s one thing for the tieflings to believe the worst given their ignorance and the fact that they are the ones who suffered from Zevlor’s failure, but your company understands the Absolute and the ways that she gets her hooks in people. Still, Astarion calls him a “wet rag” even if he did deserve better than this. Shadowheart wouldn’t have wished this on him either, but she can’t help but slip in a “no matter his failings.” Lae’zel, often the most blunt, straight up says that he was “always destined to fail his people—and to fail us.” Wyll shakes his head and intones that “even good intentions can lead us down deadly paths.” Only Gale and Karlach stick to mourning the dead rather than airing his shortcomings.

When I spoke to my allies before the final battle Zevlor didn’t have a cut scene. It became clear to me later that this must have been a bug in my play-through, but at the time it only reinforced my feelings that his story was incomplete. Looking on Youtube I’ve found recordings of him saying that he is a Hellrider once more and he would “die a proud man if [he] were to die this day”… but that rings as terribly hollow given where we left him. Last we were together, Zevlor was saying in no uncertain terms that he could not be trusted, he would fail again, he was unworthy of forgiveness. Where did this change of heart come from? It makes perfect sense that he would help Tav in this moment—he begs to be of some use after getting free—but not that he would present himself with such confidence. Within the story as it’s been told this feels… fake. Like Zevlor is putting on a mask to fit the mood of this lively, optimistic party. Which, in turn, gives the “I would die a proud man” line a terrifying implication to me. Does Zevlor expect to die this day? Does he intend to? What would persuade him not to lay down his life here and now? His mission is complete. The tieflings are safe—though not by his hand. There's no hero's welcome waiting for him after this battle. They hate him. He hates himself, and by his own admission the one thing that could still make him proud would be to die at Tav’s side, trying to do one last bit of good. If someone said that to me after everything Zevlor has been through I would keep them far away from the front lines.

(I did, for the record lol.)

I’m not saying anything new then when I go, “Larian, PLEASE add more to his story.” Give us a Zevlor side-quest to renew his oath. Let us invite him to our camp. Something to link the broken man mid-game and the confident fighter at the end so that the latter doesn’t feel like an alarm bell with two legs and a tail. I mean yeah, I get hooked on minor characters so 75% of this is simply me wanting more content of a fave, but I also I do legitimately believe that BG3’s story would benefit from tying up loose ends like this.

Zevlor is a fantastic character, someone who contains an astounding amount of complexity for so little screen time. You have to follow up on that complexity though. If he’s meant to be a purely tragic figure, okay, fine, that’s the ending you get with Orin. But one where he joins you with a smile and reclaims a title he's previously rejected with such fervor requires more work in the middle; a through-line that explains how someone with so much self-loathing learns to think of himself as the hero again.

Because it does all come down to Zevlor’s perception of himself. He was always a hero, flaws and all. He always was and always will be a Hellrider.

The UI knows what's up :)

#BG3 #Zevlor #bg3 Zevlor #wow this took forever #someone cry over this wet cat of a tiefling with me #mymetas

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ameenvie · 6 months

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Over The Phone - jamie tartt x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

Word count: 1.5k Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!reader Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI!, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirrrty talk Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: Kinktober day 6 - Phone sex. Speaks for itself, Jamie is at an away game without you and you miss him dearly A/N: Not much for this one, just want to thank the amazing people who beta-read this for me: @angelbarnes-rogers & @confessionsofatotaldramaslut!! ❤✨ I just hope you'll enjoy this! 🙏❤❤

Your phone started buzzing on the bed next to you, it lit up and you saw your boyfriend’s name on the screen alongside a funny photo of the two of you. It was quite late already, so you didn’t expect him to call but you quickly answered.

“I thought you were asleep already” you said in a low, sleepy voice.

“Nah, we were watching a film. No phones allowed” Jamie said on the other side of the line, his voice just as tired as yours.

Richmond had an away game at the weekend, and unfortunately this time you couldn’t travel to watch him play. It might’ve been silly, but you really missed him even though he was only gone for a day or two at times like these.

“That sounds fun” you replied and closed your book that you were reading, setting it on the bedside table. “Did Ted make you cry again?” you chuckled, and Jamie scoffed.

“I never cry on films.”

“Yeah, sure” you teased. “Don’t you have a curfew? It’s getting quite late.”

“Just wanted to hear your voice before going to bed” he paused before continuing. “I miss you.” His admission didn’t surprise you, but it made your heart swell and a warm feeling of love spread through your body. His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a winter evening.

“I miss you too, Jamie.” You shuffled under the covers, and he probably heard the sound of the fabric ruffling.

“You in bed?” he asked, and you swore his voice got a bit deeper than it was just mere seconds ago.

“Yeah. I wish you were here.”

“Me too, love” he paused for a second before he spoke again. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you when I get home.” His voice was cocky, and you heard the smile in his voice.

“Yeah?” you chuckled. “Any particular ideas?” You knew exactly what he was alluding to. You already felt heat rise in your body and a tingling sensation settling in your stomach.

“You know it” he teased.

“Maybe, but...” you hesitated.

“Yes, angel?”

“I want you to tell me” you whispered and let out a shaky breath. Usually, you didn’t mind asking for what you want, hell, even begging – but you felt self-conscious now all of a sudden. Jamie let out a low hum on the other end of the line before he spoke again.

“You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you if I was there, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jamie” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut. You put the call on speakers and set the phone onto the pillow next to you.

“Can’t last one day without me.”

You shuffled under the covers to get out of your underwear. Your breathing was already heavy, and he didn’t even begin.

“Don’t touch yourself yet. Want to take my time with you” he mused, and his voice was dripping with lust. You could basically see him in front of you – his hair loose and messy, lying on his hotel bed in a t-shirt and his boxers alone. It turned you on even more, the need to touch him stronger with every second.

“’tis what you think about all day when I’m away? How I’m going to fill you up when I get home?” his words were filthy, but you heard in his voice that he was smiling. The image of it burned into your mind and filled every small segment of it completely. “I bet it is.” You gripped the sheets next to your body as you listened to him, dying to feel some friction between your legs. You loved that filthy mouth of his and you couldn't deny it as moans and whimpers escaped your lips.

“It is” you whined, and he let out a low chuckle.

“Are you naked?”

“N-no” you stuttered. “In a top.”

“Be a good girl and take them off for me, hmm?” You heard fabric ruffling on the other side of the line before you took the hem of your spaghetti-strap top and pulled it over your head, the cold air of the room felt alien for a second, hardening your nipples. You squeezed your eyes shut as frustration began to rise in your body together with your neediness. You wanted to be touched so bad, even if it was only by your own hands. But you didn’t even think about cheating, you waited for Jamie’s next orders.

“Fucking hell, love if I was there, I’d make you feel so good, yeah? Kiss your pretty tits first, just how you like-“ he groaned, and he had to pause for a second. You figured forming sentences was just as hard for him as it was for you in this lustful haze. All you could think about was how much you wanted him. “Touch them” he commanded, and you obliged, your hand sneaking up to your breast as you squeezed it gently at first, but then a bit harder. You let out a shaky breath before your finger moved to slowly play with your nipple, circling and pinching it gently. You moaned loudly before you heard Jamie’s voice again.

“I want you to put your finger into your pretty little mouth and make it as wet as you can ‘aight love?” Flames were eating away at your body as heat rose to your ears before you put your index finger into your mouth and licked on it slowly. A brief thought of Jamie’s length in your mouth invaded your thoughts and you let out a loud moan.

“Touch yourself, babe. Like I would – I’d take my time with you, teasing that gorgeous pussy of yours” he mused, and you thought you heard him shuffle on the other side of the line, touching himself as well. You swiped your wet finger against your sensitive clit and you gasped, your back arching away from the bed. You started to rub slow circles around the sensitive bud and you rolled your hips against your palm. All Jamie could hear was your heavy breathing as he slowly palmed himself.

“Jamie” you whimpered his name as you continued your ministrations before you pushed a finger inside your dripping cunt. His name fell from your lips like a prayer.

“Feels good, hmm?”

“Not as good as yours” you admitted bashfully. “Can I- can I add another one, please?” Jamie groaned and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, how could I say no to that?” he chuckled dryly, and you pushed another finger inside yourself. The stretch felt amazing but you knew it was nothing compared to Jamie being inside of you. You moved them in and out, your walls hugged them perfectly as you picked up your pace.

“Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are you touching yourself?” you asked between breaths as your other hand find its way to your clit, continuing where you left off.

“Fuck, babe” he moaned into the phone before he continued. “Yes I am.” You rolled your hips a bit stronger against your fingers and you felt your arousal soak them. “You like that, hmm?”

“Yes” you gasped.

“You like how I’m doing that while thinking of you?”

“What… Are you thinking about?” You bit your lip.

“About your perfect lil pussy, how I’d like to taste it. Fuck, angel I’d eat you out all night long, making you come ‘til you can’t talk.” You moaned out loud, Jamie’s words filling your thoughts, images of his head between your legs as he smiles at you devilishly as you can’t keep your composure. His name is all you can muster up, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. You felt your nerves igniting and tension build in your every muscle, like a bow that’s ready to snap. You tightened the movements of your finger on your clit.

“And then I’d fuck you so good. I’ll make you feel so good, love.” His breathing started to become erratic and he found it harder and harder to keep going as his own high creeped up in him. He moaned between the words; you knew they turned him on just as much as they turned you on. “Fill your tight little cunt perfectly. You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you babe?” Your fingers curled inside you to reach your sweet spot as his filthy words pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Jamie, I’m so-“ you gasped. “So close.” He moaned and picked up his pace as well.

“Come for me” he whispered. “With me.” His words were stuttering. Your breathing became more and more erratic by the second. “Fuck, love, I can’t wait to feel you around me, so good. I love you so fucking much.”

You felt your walls tighten around your fingers as the coil inside your body snapped as your orgasm washed over you. You fucked yourself through your high, your walls fluttering around your fingers as you came down. You still heard Jamie’s strained moans for a second before he reached his own release as well, cursing and moaning under his breath.

“You alright?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Fantastic” he answered. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“It’s gonna be worth the wait I promise.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt ff #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt smut #Smut

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angelatmidnight1 · 6 months

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I just started Baldur's Gate 3 and would love some ler! tword hesdcanons for Astarion if you're feeling inspired? I saw some of his lines on YouTube Shorts and he's literally the reason I'm now playing, Lord help me. 😭🤣 I'm super early game(like, just met him, Shadowheart and Gale) but I do know what species he is, and know a certain something he tries at camp at some point- 👀

I will definitely write a tword fic for him at some point because the need for him to wreck me is strong, but some headcanons to encourage me to keep going to see the story, as I adjust to the gameplay and how it works would be so appreciated! ❤️ Again, only if you feel inspired for it though, no pressure and I hope you're staying hydrated lovely! 😊

A/N: Sure! Astarion's the reason I bought the game too. I saw a few clips of him on TikTok and added the game to cart 😅 I have a reader/Astarion fic somewhere in my drafts, but please tag me whenever you create yours. I'd love to see :D

Anyways, here's ler!Astarion. I hope I captured his personality okay. I'll add a tiny warning that this may come off a tad spicy, cause it's Astarion haha, but it isn't NSFW.

Ler!Astarion Tickle Headcanons

“Darling, you’re ticklish? Aha, how adorable.”

Astarion’s had a couple centuries to practice the art of gentle, and sometimes ticklish, touches. Of course he takes up the opportunity to work his craft.

He’ll say the sweetest things to beckon his lee closer, with fleeting touches along sides and hips. “Come here, my dear. I promise I’ll be as gentle as a babe. Just a bit closer, hm?”

More words, sweet as honey, until he has his lee pinned under him. No matter the position, he wants physical contact the whole time. “Mm, I always did enjoy how you looked beneath me.”

He loves it when his lees become shy and flustered. It encourages his flirtatious antics even more. But, if they don’t? That’s okay. He loves a good challenge.

Astarion’s touch is deliberate, but light and teasy. He takes his time to find the spots that make his lee squeal, and claws over it with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My, you are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?”

Eye contact is huge with Astarion; he drinks in his lees’ every reaction to his tickles. Every little giggle, gasp, squeak. His lee has never looked more beautiful, and he’s sure to tell them just that.

Speaking of drinking, it’s too tempting not to think about all of the blood pumping through his lee’s veins while he tickles them. He won’t drink without permission, but that doesn’t mean he can’t indulge in other ways.

“I could eat you right up, darling. And you know what? I think I will..”

Astarion knows how to use his fangs with just enough pressure to tickle, and if he’s especially close with his lee, nowhere is safe from his nibbles.

His favorite place to nibble are necks, but he’s also fond of ribs, hips, and thighs. He’ll love if his lee is especially sensitive to his light biting. “Gods, you are delectable. And those precious little giggles of yours just make you all the more sweeter.~”

He could tease and tickle his lee all night, but if they truly need a break, he’ll ease off…just expect him to be a lil’ pouty.

“Stop? Already? But, I was having so much fun. And I can tell that you were, too. Must we end our playtime so soon? …Oh, fine. Just promise I won’t have to wait too long before I can have you again.”

Of course, Astarion doesn’t always have to have an easy time with his lees. He loves it when they’re stern or, if anything, when they don’t want to admit how ticklish they are.

“Pft, if you’re not ticklish, then I’m not a vampire. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find it rather cute. You can look a beast dead in its eye, so long as it doesn’t wiggle its claws at you, hah.”

He, like most, if not all vampires, loves a good hunt. He can and will pursue obstinate lees for fun. Having stealth on his side is a huge advantage.

His fancy, airier voice turns growly when he’s on the hunt. And, those honeyed words become devilish taunts.

“You might want to run faster, darling. I’m right behind you.~ Perhaps if you surrender, I’ll be merciful.”

Astarion gets a huge ego boost if he manages to get a stubborn lee laughing. "My name sounds wonderful on your lips. But, I would love to hear a 'please'."

If he has to hunt his lee down, it'll be awhile before he lets them go. "You're all mine, tav. Laugh for me~."

#astarion acunin #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 tickle #bg3 tickle #ler!astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

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I'll be full of the love you want

rated t cw: self-doubt, relationship doubt, light angst tags: happy ending, hurt/comfort-ish, super fluffy romantic words being said

a/n: firstly I am writing this absolute fluff because i've been listening to sleep token and decided i could handle listening to blood sport (i couldn't) and so now we get this fluff. second of all, i feel like before anyone comes for my throat, i LOVE nancy. i hate what the duffer brothers have reduced her character to canonically. she has so much potential, just sitting there, and what are they doing with it? making her worse. i do think that she is just very bad at reading what's appropriate to say to people, and that's what happens here. assume that it gets fixed and she apologizes later, this entire thing is to focus on the boys.

Sometimes, Nancy’s subtle comments remained in Steve’s chest, an unbearable weight that felt crushing.

“Eddie has plans, and they may not involve you.”

That’s what she’d said to him when he told her they were dating.

No congratulations, no friendly smile or hug, not even the expected game of 20 questions.

The words played on loop in his head as he found an excuse to leave movie night early, as he drove home, as he took a shower.

He barely slept that night.

Nancy was right in a way; Eddie did have plans.

—-

“She what?” Eddie yelled.

“Eds-”

“No, that’s. Stevie, you know how ridiculous that is, don’t you?”

He did.

But he also…didn’t.

It really wasn’t that ridiculous to think that maybe his boyfriend of barely a month would have plans that didn’t involve Steve.

Steve may be head over heels in love with him, but he hadn’t said that.

“Is it?” Steve asked, not looking up at Eddie pacing in front of him.

Eddie stopped in front of him, dropping to his knees on the floor between Steve’s parted legs.

His hands gripped Steve’s knees, squeezing in silent comfort.

“Sweetheart, I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m all in with us. I’m not going anywhere that you can’t or don’t want to follow. If someone sends me to the moon, you better start packing your bags,” Eddie left a kiss on his thigh, looking up at Steve’s wide, glassy eyes. “I don’t think she meant to hurt you, Stevie. I’d just talked to her about the band possibly going to Chicago for a show soon and how excited we were about producers being there.”

“And if they like you guys, you’ll leave. And you should! I don’t wanna hold you back. I just was so wrapped up in the now, ya know?”

Eddie looked up at him, eyes squinting at him for a moment before he stood up.

He sat down on the bed and pulled Steve onto him so he was straddling his thighs.

“You are more than just my now, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Eddie cupped his face in his hands, leaning his head down so their foreheads rested against each other.

“We’ve seen the end of the world together, we’ve seen each other at our worst, at our bruised, at our most vulnerable. You’re my entire world now, and in the future.” Eddie let out a shaky breath, something foreign for him, usually so confident in his words. “I love you. It might scare you off, but I do. I haven’t stopped picturing my future with you in it. Nothing could drag me away from you, not the band, not the kids, not myself. I’m yours, for the long haul, wherever that takes both of us.”

Steve sniffled, the tears pooling in his eyes fighting so hard to fall.

“You can’t say stuff like that,” he squeaked out.

“Why can’t I?”

“I might believe it.”

Eddie tugged him closer, one hand on the back of his head holding him against his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist.

“I need you to believe it, love. There is nothing that will keep me from loving you. If Vecna himself couldn’t, then Nancy’s words sure as shit won’t.”

And it could be simple.

It could.

Steve could believe it, he could say the words back, he could plan a real future with Eddie, something he’d never been able to do with anyone else.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Eddie interrupted his thoughts, his hand squeezing Steve’s hip.

Steve pulled back, looking at Eddie’s earnest face.

“I’m scared to love you the way that I do,” Steve admitted, voice barely more than a whisper.

Eddie heard him, though.

He beamed up at Steve.

“You can be scared, but you can love me anyway,” Eddie shrugged, as if it could actually be that simple.

Love was a silly thing.

Steve felt it easily, for Robin, for the kids, for the Byers’, even Nancy still. He’d known what he felt for Eddie was love way before this conversation, but he hadn’t realized how much that love could grow when it was reciprocated.

Eddie looked at him now like he already knew, like Steve holding back wasn’t changing the fact that Steve had loved him for months now, maybe even longer.

“You can love me, Stevie. I want you to love me. Love me the way you feel,” Eddie continued.

His words cut through his heart, but in a different way than Nancy’s had.

Steve never got to love people the way he felt, always too much, always overwhelming.

His parents taught him not to be needy, let people show their love from a distance and don’t force your attention and care on them.

Nancy taught him that he couldn’t be someone else just because he wanted to love someone, that he had to accept that love wasn’t always enough for a relationship.

Eddie, though.

Eddie had taught him that there was nothing shameful about being loud with your passion, with your love. He taught him that he can’t hold back his feelings, not for anyone, especially not for himself.

He was showing him, more every day, that loving someone can and should be fulfilling.

He couldn’t be scared of loving Eddie, not when Eddie had always shown him how to be brave.

“I love you so much,” Steve gasped out.

It wasn’t the declaration he’d planned, or even wanted, but that somehow made it better for them.

Eddie’s beaming smile proved that even further.

“I’m so in love with you, I don’t know what to do with it all. I just keep thinking that one day I’ll wake up and feel less, but I just keep feeling more. I’m not good with words like you are, but I love you,” Steve added, finally gaining his voice.

“Feels good, right?”

“To love you?”

Eddie leaned up, kissed his chin, then the corner of his mouth.

“To show it to someone who wants it.”

Steve bit his lip, realizing that yeah, it did feel good. Really good.

“You’re gonna get so tired of me loving you.”

It was said as a joke, but it was his last genuine fear. The one thing that he knew always happened.

“I will never get tired of you loving me. Not for a single second. Not even when we’re old dudes sitting on our porch yelling at the kids with the loud music,” Eddie poked his side as he spoke.

“You won’t ever yell at anyone for loud music.”

“You never know. I could become a grumpy old man. Will you still love me?” Eddie pouted up at him.

“I think I’d love any version of you. Actually, I know I would.” “And you say I’m the sappy one.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #light angst #happy ending #fluff

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gojot-t · 2 months

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Hihi!! I'm here to place my order for the valentine's event!! I'd love to request an arranged marriage w topping 22 + gojo please!! Like they needed to rehearsal the "you may kiss the bride" kiss and he just kind of messes it up in purpose so they can do it again and again! KSJDJFJS AAAH I LOVE THIS EVENT SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR MAKING THIS!!!!!!!

from the valentine's day event! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

gojo satoru + arranged marriage + “Wait, that wasn’t good enough. Let’s do another take.” “…It’s been the fourth take already. Just admit you like kissing me, it’s fine.”

tags :: fem!reader, gojo is down bad, fluff, i ended up going in a slightly different direction and this probably wasn't what you had in mind, but I hope you like it anyway ><

“You really are an idiot.”

“Hey now, that's how you treat your future husband? tsk tsk.”

It's funny to think how just a few months ago if someone mentioned the slightest possibility of having something romantic with Satoru, you would choke in the most exaggerated way you could before denying vehemently, unaware of destiny's plans for you.

Even if you knew Satoru since you were a child, being each other's escape from the so boring and extraneous clan meetings and messing around until some wrinkled-faced old man lost his temper and yelled at you two, you wouldn't marry him.

From the sullen boy who would always hold your hands to the energetic teenager who would pull your hair if you didn't pay attention to him, you saw all the facets of Satoru, always by his side. Still, for you, satoru is like a flower in a garden – its beauty making you momentarily forget about its thorns.

“hey, I'm feeling kinda neglected here.” a pouty satoru meets your view. “If you have so much time to get lost in that pretty little head of yours, maybe we should practice more?”

“I'm starting to think you set this all up, you know. to play prince charming on me." you narrow your eyes and accuse him softly with your finger on his chest, the sight of satoru in a suit – just before marrying you – it's not easy to resist, after all.

the firm hands on your waist start to go down and you pinch his (stupidly strong) bicep before they can wander any longer. “hmm, why do you think so?” he teasingly moves his face close to yours – warm breath just above your mouth – lips close but never touching. you already know his little games.

The last conversation you had with him before the whole marriage thing was during a night out for drinks, “for the good old’ time sakes” he had said. You weren't planning to ruin the night with your personal problems, but a few drinks later and the heat of his body close to yours seemed to inebriated you enough to make your mouth run faster than your thoughts.

Originally, you would marry a big shot from the Zenin clan. You were not happy about it, still there's little to nothing you could do. The preparations are already being made and the Shiromuku you had to try felt like a cage against your skin, a warning of what your life would be like from then on.

As those slurred words left your mouth, Satoru's entire body seemed to tense up for a moment and for the rest of the night he seemed distant, furrowed eyebrows and thinking about something. He had ended your little hang out earlier than you expected that day, saying he had "important business calling", leaving you back at your home and saying goodbye with a hug and chaste kiss on your cheek, seemingly back to his usual silly self.

You’re never sure what’s on Satoru’s mind, so you decided not to question him despite the strange behavior. He wouldn't tell you anyway.

A week later your wedding was canceled. You would be marrying Gojo Satoru instead.

“Like, the deal being canceled so suddenly, what happened?And- wait, is my father in debt?" your body stiffened against his arms, worried. You try to move away from him a little, but satoru just pulls you closer.

By the way he just giggles in response you know he's not really listening to you. He trails kisses from your jaw to your neck, teasing lightly with his tongue before burying his nose deep in your hair. “You smell so good…” He seems strangely happy today, all smiley and clingy. “But, no. You can try to guess one more time, though.”

The same second you open your mouth to respond, muffled footsteps can be heard outside the room you're in and you know it's the maids returning with the final jewelry and makeup. Satoru took advantage of the small gap in their presence, basically barging into your room and demanding that the two of you practice kissing for when the two of you finished your vows, apparently too eager to keep his hands to himself.

he groans and drops his head on your shoulder, before looking at you with expectant eyes, just like a child would with their favorite candy in a store. "How about just one little kiss, huh? to be sure that everything will turn out well, you know, that's very important!”

you should say no, you really should, you don't have that much time anymore and one kiss with satoru easily turns into two, three until you're both out of breath, mind clouded with desire, but the protest dies in your mouth when satoru’s soft lips meet yours.

you were half expecting him to mess up again, just like every time he asked for "just one more kiss", turning his face at the last second for you to kiss his cheek or nibbling on your lips before pulling away completely, but he doesn't do any of that, instead, he kisses you, lips dancing against yours, feeling you, appreciating you.

this time, you're the one pulling him closer, hands on his nape and feeling his skin react to yours. Despite your desperation for each other, the kiss is nothing but slow and gentle, a shy waltz between two lovers. If before you couldn't imagine marrying satoru, now you think that a life without the weight of the ring on your finger, sealing him to you, would make no sense.

Satoru tongue caressing yours brings you back to reality and you pull away, before you both really get lost in the moment. "satoru-”

“wait… that wasn’t good enough. let’s do another take…” he chases your lips again, hands on your cheeks and his eyes, normally so bright, are almost dark blue, clouded with desire for you.

the sight of him now, flushed and with swollen lips, makes your face heat up and you cover your nervousness before he can tease you. “…It’s been the fourth take already. just admit you like kissing me, it’s fine.”

“huh, bossy, aren't you?" there's a knock on the door but satoru just smirks and winks at you. "but it's okay, I really like kissing my bride.” the handle turns and he connects your lips with his again.

“my lady, i'm coming-” when you open your eyes, satoru's has completely disappeared from the room, the only trace of his presence being your messy appearance and tingling lips.

“-in. I have returned with the final preparations and- oh… my lady, do you feel alright? you seem kind of... nervous?”

you swear you can still feel the warmth of his hands against your body. "a-ah? oh, y-yes! yes, I'm fine. umm, where did we stop again?”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojot t valentine's day event! 𓍯𓂃

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jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Heaven - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie had written off ever finding his person. Yeah he could fool around and have some fun, but at the end of the day no one would look at him the way he wanted them to. Until you came along and, in the most unexpected way, changed his life forever.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Fluff, Love at First Sight, Soulmates(?), Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Implied Sexual Encounters, Implied Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Abandonment, Biblical and Other Literary References

Note: Set before Hell, we have our introduction to Reader/OC for my Van Helsing AU/Kas!Eddie series, As Above, So Below. Once again, this can be read as a stand-alone, but if you're planning on reading the eventual series, you might want to read the prequels.

That being said, this fic and the subsequent fics/chapters in the series will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find the As Above, So Below masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it. Made for it stitch by stitch as a glove is made for a hand."

—The Business of Heaven, Daily Readings from C.S. Lewis (1984)

March 1984

When Eddie met you, he had all but given up on finding love.

He had heard it all before.

He was young. He still had the rest of his life ahead of him. Maybe love wasn't in Hawkins. He just needed to have patience.

But it stung to watch the others receive affection, care, and understanding when he waited. Wanting, deserving, but never receiving.

Until you walked into the Hideout, wet and weary after a long drive to an unfamiliar place in unforgiving conditions.

You weren't some spectacular beauty, or otherworldly siren, or heavenly angel that he would expect in a fantasy novel or a DnD game. You were, quite frankly, a mess. But as you turned and nodded your head along to the music, Eddie swore his heartbeat was louder than Mickey's relentless assault on the drums.

He approached you at the end of the set as you sat at the bar nursing a cherry coke and circling want ads in the classified section of the Hawkins Post.

He asked you if you liked cheese fries before he even said hello.

And the laugh you made was loud and honking, but it was nevertheless perfect.

You were a disaster made, he hoped, just for him.

June 1984

“The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall rise,” Eddie muttered as he traced the words etched into your forearm. “That from the Bible?”

"Yeah."

“That’s pretty badass.”

While all of his classmates were dressed in their best clothes—their caps and gowns—being celebrated by the fanfare that befitted the class of 1984, you and Eddie were spread out in the back of his van in your underwear, studying each others tattoos after a day of swimming and skipping rocks at Lover's Lake.

It was a lazy kind of day.

You had sensed his anxiety in the days prior, when you asked about the end of the school year, about his plans after graduation. He initially wasn't going to tell you that he wouldn’t be graduating. He tried to skirt around it. But somehow you knew.

You always knew. Because you knew him.

You suggested a day out, just the two of you. Something special. As opposed to the many "dates" he had taken you on where his friends ended up tagging along. You promised you didn't mind, but he would have liked to kiss you freely without some doofus making lewd noises in the background.

But your idea had been perfect.

Graduation was played up to be some kind of achievement, something special. But how could it be when you were surrounded by a hundred other kids who all knew the same shit you did. Probably didn’t even know it, actually; they were just good at remembering it for a little while.

How could that feel special?

But this? Learning about you? It was more important than math or science or some other useless bullshit.

Knowing you—loving you—was the most special thing he could ever achieve. And he was proud to say that he was getting straight A’s.

“Listen," you started as Eddie pressed a kiss to your skin. "I know all of the love-thy-neighbor-Jesus shit is pretty lame. But…I don’t know, some things are cool.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked.

“Some of the Saints…reliquaries, catacombs, the Book of Revelation,” you shrugged. “You can kind of choose what you want to believe in, I guess.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point of organized religion?” He huffed and rolled onto his back, pulling your arm across his torso so you could rest your head on his shoulder and your body could drape across his comfortably.

"Isn’t what the point?" You fished the sharp pendant of your necklace from between your bodies and laid it on his bare chest beside his.

His was simple, a guitar pick he'd caught at the first concert he ever attended.

Yours, intricate, a silver cross with flowers and vines intermingled around the arms. Hyacinths, you told him once. As though he knew what they were. But he made a mental note to try and find them for your birthday, since you seemed to like them enough to have a necklace with them.

“Well, it's organized. That you all believe the same…I dunno. Stories? Lessons?” He rambled on as his hand gestured absentmindedly.

“It's all just…rules made by old men,” you scoffed. “Some stuffy guy in the Vatican says…I don’t know…don’t step on a crack or you’ll break your mother’s back and earn a one way ticket to hell? And I’m supposed to believe it?”

“That’s just a superstition.” He paused for a moment and snorted. “Kind of ironic that I, a supposed devil worshiper, am telling you this, Miss Catholic School.”

You rolled your eyes at him but still smiled.

“Pretty sure if someone knows more about Satan between the two of us,” you giggled. “It’s me.”

“Shhh, you’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

July 1984

The 4th of July fell on the most perfect day.

It might have rained a little earlier that morning, but Eddie had certainly slept through it, and it made way for perfect skies and just the slightest slickness to the grass as he and the boys ran around the open fields surrounding Weathertop.

The van was full of fireworks, and Jack's mom had set them up with sandwiches and a few coolers of iced tea and lemonade. Mickey brought the beers. Eddie had the good sense to invite some of the younger guys too, which meant Gareth's mom had sent him along with a few extra pies she had made.

Apple, Strawberry Rhubarb, and Cherry—Eddie's favorite.

His mouth watered for the tantalizing summer feast, but he craved you more.

You were a little late to the party, having worked the opening shift at Bradley's, but before long your clunky, hand-me-down Marquis pulled up alongside his van.

"The freezers went down at work," you called to the boys. "So I have, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops. Can I get some help before they melt? I have no A/C, so it’s hot as Hell."

It had just reached the height of the day, and the boys whooped and tripped over each other to get to the sweet, icy treats.

"In the backseat," you reminded them. "Not the trunk."

“Why don’t you let me take a look at your car?” Eddie asked, snaking his arms around your waist.

“To fix the a/c? If you want.” You shrugged but beamed at him. “It was my grandpa’s car. It’s on its last legs anyway.”

"At least let me look at the trunk." Eddie offered and you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you playfully. "What? Then you wouldn't have to shove, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops in the backseat."

"I swear, the trunk is just rusted shut at this point," you supplied with a laugh. "There's no use."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he pouted. He knew you knew when he was fishing for a kiss, but you gave in to his pouting anyway and immediately chased after his lips to plant one on him.

That night after the feast is consumed and everyone is enjoying the fireworks, Eddie couldn’t ignore the feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

His closest friends would be gone soon, off to college and leaving him behind. His band practically broken apart, dreams shattered, if not for Gareth and Jeff.

Everything was changing.

And the only constant he could count on now was you.

He couldn’t help but worry how long it would be before you'd leave him too.

October 1984

The cicadas chirped and buzzed wildly. A mourning dove that had nested on top of the trailer in the spring and was still there and cooed restlessly, calling for a mate that had left it behind. The cheap window units Wayne had gotten from the hardware store ages ago chugged and clunked away to keep the trailer just on the side of cool enough to wear clothes.

They were sounds of summer, not fall, and most certainly not Halloween. But it was an unseasonably, disgustingly hot week, and it did nothing to help Eddie get into a chilling, haunted mindset as he planned a special one-off campaign for Hellfire on the 31st.

His repeat senior year hadn’t started off too well. The teachers were unforgiving, the students unkind. But he had promised Wayne he would try.

Things like the band and Hellfire certainly made it bearable.

You made it bearable.

You’d been working a lot of nights lately, but still made time for him and promised him special incentives and treats if he did well in school.

If he showed up on time for a week, you could have a sleepover at your apartment. Pass a test with a grade above a C, you’d tell him a secret.

He hadn’t gotten quite so good of a grade on a test yet but he had written a killer essay in English and he had negotiated your participation in Hellfire for Halloween, since the roster was slightly lacking this year. It hadn’t even taken much negotiation, really; you were just as excited to learn everything about him as he was about you.

So you’d spent a lazy Sunday afternoon with him as he explained the mechanics of the game and helped you create a character.

“…I forgot to mention if you do pick a rogue, you have proficiency in de—what’re you looking at now?”

He’d paused his lesson to grab some drinks, and when he returned, you were frozen in place, staring intently at a page in his players guide, brow furrowed. One of your hands clutched the book tightly, and the other touched the words on the page almost reverently.

He set your sodas on the nightstand and then glanced over at the book.

“Ah, we hadn’t gotten there yet,” he laughed and flopped down on the bed. “Tsk, tsk, reading ahead. But don’t worry, paladins are really cool. They pledge an oath to a deity—devote their whole lives—and then get this…divine ability so long as they uphold it. They can heal or even smite—”

You slammed the book shut at that and Eddie jumped in shock. You refused to look at him for a moment, rubbing your hands over the cover of the book in contemplation, before you looked up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I think I’ll be a rogue,” you nodded. “That sounded really cool.”

“A-are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat and sank down into his pillows. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, nuzzled him slightly, and shoved the book back into his hands. “So what else do I need to play?”

November 1984

Eddie woke abruptly to frantic banging on the front door of the trailer.

It had been raining when he went to bed, which usually helped him sleep. At first he thought the storm had just gotten stronger.

Until he heard your voice.

You had abandoned the front door in favor of the side door near his bedroom. You tripped over the bowl he left for the stray cats and swore viciously. He chuckled tiredly until the banging started again and his heart seized in his chest.

You weren’t knocking. Your hands were practically slapping at the door.

“Please, God, please, please.” He could hear you muttering desperately.

He kicked the soft comforter off and pushed himself out of bed to get to you. As soon as the door was open you crashed into his chest, your arms wound around his waist, and you sobbed. Great, broken sobs that made his heart break.

He was about to put his arms around you, to soothe you and ask you what was wrong, when he smelled it.

Smoke. Fire. Acrid and cloying, engulfing you.

He looked down and was shocked. You were filthy; covered in dirt and soot and muck. The edges of your clothes and the ends of your hair were singed. You were visibly shaking.

"W-what happened?" Eddie asked frantically, prying your arms from around him, trying to see if you were hurt. He froze at the sight of blood caked on your hands and wrists. His stomach churned when he noticed the streaky stains it left below your nostrils. "Are you ok? Are you hurt? What happened?"

You simply shook your head and collapsed back against him.

He couldn't help the fear that overtook him, but he stayed strong as he pulled you into the trailer. As he got you into the shower and washed...whatever happened off of you. There were no cuts or burns or bruises. He tried to ask again, once you had calmed down enough that the tears fell silently and the only sounds you made were an occasional hiccup.

The next morning you were fine. You told him there was an accident at Bradley's. But there was no report on the news or in the paper. The building was fully intact. All of the staff were present and happily employed. You had no problem going back to work; in fact, you did so with a smile on your face.

Eddie never asked.

Because he knew you had secrets.

You never told him.

Because he never got a better grade than a C.

A month after that night, though, Hawkins National Laboratory was shut down and abandoned.

January 1985

"...can't I have anything for myself. It's unfair." Your muffled voice pierced through his dreams and pulled him into awareness.

He had been a light sleeper after that night in November, especially when you stayed over. You muttered in your sleep sometimes; it would wake him. You'd shift just far enough away; that would wake him too.

You had never had a full-on conversation before, though.

"Sins of the father, and sins of his father before that. Blah blah."

He blinked the bleariness from his eyes and watched as you paced at the foot of his bed. You wore nothing but your necklace. The cross swung wildly as your arms gestured and when you turned on your heel to continue your endless back and forth. Your voice was hushed.

It was half of an argument with an unseen adversary.

“I need a break…I know I haven’t been at this for long, but I’m sick and tired of it already.”

He vaguely wondered if you were hallucinating. A bad high. You’d always been reluctant to smoke with him but he had insisted tonight. After tangled limbs and quiet declarations in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Words of worship whispered to one another. The buzz beneath his skin had felt foreign and he figured the weed could mellow it out.

Maybe it had the opposite effect on you.

But then Eddie felt it.

As awareness settled over him, he felt an unseen, suffocating presence. It felt like the days where the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, only this time...the weight of the entire universe, every atom and every molecule, every moment--past, present, and future--existed all at once in his small bedroom and crushed him flat on his bed.

You continued on your one-sided rant and he didn’t know how you managed to move so freely when he felt so trapped, pinned in place by the weight of it. He tried to get your attention but he couldn't move, couldn't breath.

In the corner of his eye he swore he could see it. Blazing fire and wings and eyes.

He gasped and looked but saw nothing there. Still, the suffocating weight closed in on him further, pressing and squeezing, crushing him. And fear gripped him tightly. He wrenched his eyes shut and for the first time, probably in his life, he prayed.

He begged for it to go away.

Because if it didn't. He was going to die.

The bed shifted with your weight as you crawled to him and as soon as your hands reached him, he could breathe again.

“Eddie, oh my god please, are you ok?” You asked frantically, cupping his face in your hands. “Please say something.”

He gasped for air and sat up, clutching your hands to his face. You were his lifeline, his savior.

He closed his eyes and a million thoughts raced through his mind.What the fuck was that? Are you ok? Maybe he had a bad high, not you? Was it a nightmare? What the fuck was that?

February 1985

Your goodbye was expected. But that didn't mean it didn't cut him straight to his core.

You had been waiting for him one Friday night after Hellfire; he had driven the guys home only to find you waiting outside the trailer. Your car was packed with your belongings, similar to the way it had been the night you had stumbled into Hawkins.

He felt like vomiting as soon as he saw you.

You fed him some story about a sick, dying grandmother. How your mother had left a message on your answering machine begging you to come back home.

"She needs me," you told him.

"I need you," he replied desperately.

You couldn't do much more than shake your head and break down in tears.

"I'll come back," you promised. "It won't be long. Just wait for me."

In hindsight, he wished he had screamed and cried and begged you to stay. He wished that he had offered to go with you. Chicago wasn't that far. Wayne would have been mad, but then...Eddie would still have you.

Eddie was a good liar, though. He could fool anyone if he tried hard enough. He could even lie to himself.

He smiled and nodded and pretended to understand.

"Sure," he agreed. "I'll wait."

Your eyes started watering and you pulled him into the tightest hug. He wrapped his arms around you numbly, and as he did, he vaguely remembered some bullshit myth--

How humans were created...conjoined together. 4 arms, 4 legs, a head with two faces...but the Gods feared their power, split them in two. Condemned them to spend their lives apart.

--And he wished that he had some sort of secret, divine power to meld himself back together with you. Because surely, you belonged there with him. And if he concentrated on squeezing you just right, you would simply fuse together and you would never be apart again.

Life didn't work that way though.

You reluctantly pulled away from him and pressed a wet kiss to his lips.

Before you got in the car to drive away forever, you took off your necklace and pressed the cross into his hand. It practically burned.

"Don't lose that," you told him. "I'll be back for it."

He closed his fist around it and nodded, unable to trust himself with words.

He watched as you drove away, stayed standing outside until he couldn't see your tail lights anymore.

He let himself in the trailer, glad that Wayne was still at work--

You'd be back. You promised. You loved him. He loved you. You told him almost everything. You brought him hope. And care. And you made him feel complete. You'd be back.

--as he threw your necklace into the furthest corner of the room.

As he screamed in agony.

“Life moves very fast. It can go from Heaven to Hell in a matter of seconds.”

—Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho (2003)

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #stranger things Eddie munson #As Above So Below

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creelteeth · 2 years

Text

There’s just not enough Perv!Steve out there. || pt.2

• 18+ content !! minors fuck off

|| i’ve gotten some requests for more perv!steve. poor guy is the love of my life so i am back with more.

part 1

cw: slightly darker themes!! window watching/voyeurism, foot fetish if you squint , degradation, oral (f receiving) , light corruption kink, marking/bruising (not impact play, steve bruises reader on accident during a game.), idk how to tag things pls tell me if i missed something.

reader is a bit more clueless/innocent this go around. still not sure how to categorize this but here we go!!

perv!steve who keeps the ac in his car on the lowest setting every day of summer cause he likes to see you squirm and shudder. your nipples manage to peak their way through every top you own. it’s a sight that makes his mouth water. if only you knew how much he loves your pretty tits.

how he wishes he could reach over and flick the stiff little buds.

perv!steve who purposely drives his car through deep mud puddles so he can call you and beg you to help him clean it.

that is the third time this month? it doesn’t even rain that much in hawkins.

he goes on and on about how his dad will have a cow and a half if he sees the car in this condition.

perv!steve who ends up needing to excuse himself to the garage. slumping over against the drink fridge, a hand stuffed down the front of his sudsy little basketball shorts. quick desperate squeezes of his heavy cum filled balls to try and do away with the throbbing mess that is his cock.

jesus fucking christ—..

he didn’t expect you to take your shirt off in the middle of washing his car. certainly didn’t expect you to be wearing that tiny triangle bikini top.

it was hardly covering anything. you’re such a fucking-.. a fucking whore aren’t you?

perv!steve who realized he can see directly into your bedroom window if he parks his car in front of the neighbors yard.

why don’t you ever close your curtains all the way? you’re such a fucking performer for him. you like being watched.

he loves it. it quickly becomes a nightly routine. drop you off at home. drive off once you get inside the door. make a u-turn at the stop sign. park behind the big willow tree in the neighbors yard. he’d watch you for hours if he could but he’s not that brave yet. and more importantly he’s a good boy, remember?

if you were to catch him and ask what he’d been doing he’d simply say he was making sure you got in safely. your parents out of town he just wants to be extra cautious. it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that if he parks the car just right he has a perfect view of your bed. he loves watching you run inside and strip the clothes off from the day.

you never wear pajamas, do you? dirty little thing.

the most you tend to settle for is an old t shirt. though he realized very quickly that you are not a fan a pants, but you are a fan of those adorable little panties with the lace trim and little bows right above your puffy mound. holy shit— it drove him insane. he’d give anything to be able to join you in your bedroom. to kiss your pretty ankles. to feel the heat that emanates off your cunt from beneath the cotton. if you just gave him the opportunity he’d take such good care of you. teach you everything you need to know to be a good little pet for him.

perv!steve who invites you and the rest of the gang over to swim in his parents pool. suggesting a game of chicken, immediately placing dibs on you just so he can get a chance to feel your body. his curious hands wandering only slightly to different areas on your pillow soft thighs. if you weren’t so caught up in trying to push robin off eddie’s shoulders you might’ve noticed the hand that was dancing dangerously close to the curve of your ass. neither you nor him seemed to realize how tightly he’d been squeezing you since the game started. it wasn’t on purpose, truth is he’s just trying not to focus on the fact that your sex is rubbing up against the back of his neck.

if he jostles you hard enough it might make some part of your suit slip. but he won’t, he can’t embarrass you like that.

he cares far too much about your modesty, as we’ve previously established. he’s a good boy.

perv!steve who can’t fucking believe he was holding you so tightly during the game, yesterday. completely taken aback by the sight of little bruises peppering your velvety smooth skin. or perhaps he was just taken aback by the sight of you hiking your skirt to show off your lower half.

he can see the adorable bow sitting just above your perfect little mound. it’s pink today...

each mark matched perfectly to the shape of one of steve’s fingertips.

fucking hell—..

the pitiful little pout you give him over the mess of bruises made him melt.

he just wants to ruin you. completely fucking ruin you.

seeing remnants of himself scattered about your limbs has him reeling. he reaches out cautiously, searching your big sad eyes for any sign of discomfort. his bottom lip poking out to mimic the pout you’d given him.

your voice whiny, you seemed utterly inconvenienced by his roughness.

“stevie.” you huff.

“what am i gonna do? i can’t wear that dress y’ bought me now.”

oh, you poor thing.

he touched over the tender skin, voice laced with artificial concern. “aw i’m sorry, pumpkin. didn’t mean to get so rough with you..”

words trailing off for just a moment, thumb finding the darkest of the bruises pressing into it slightly. you wince, poking your lip out even farther. you’re gonna end up tripping over that thing at this rate.

“hey hey, shh.. let me help you, how about that? i can make you feel better if you let me.” he carries on like before, crouching down to further examine the markings.

the confused tilt of your head makes him smile. his expression is gentle, though his intentions with you are nothing shy of absolutely filthy.you didn’t need to know that yet. there was something about the position you two were in that made your stomach flutter. holding the fabric of your skirt up for your best friend steve to see from your waist down felt.. funny. you trusted him though, wholeheartedly.

“help me how?” you question, maybe steve knows some neat trick to make bruises go away.

the genuine confusion behind your expression makes him smile. hands still caressing over the deep purple markings.

“ ill give each of em a kiss, how about that?” your mouth opened to speak, though no answer fell from your tongue.

steve? your best friend steve offering to kiss you better?

something felt strange about that, you'd never heard of friends kissing each other but, steve never did you any wrong. a heat washes over you, suddenly feeling shy but you nod.

perv!steve who does not need anymore encouragement beyond that simple nod. hands moving up to grab your hips--

“sit down for me, baby. gonna fix it.” he instructs you back a few inches, gently pushing you to sit down on the couch behind you.

if you knew any better you’d be able to recognize the hunger in his eyes. settling himself between your legs, he looks over you taking in the vision before him. you sitting there, legs spread open for him. the white fabric thin enough to show him the outline of your little clit. tracing around the sensitive button with his eyes, fixed on it as if it were a target.

soon.

he’s gotta warm you up a bit first. starting at the lowest marks to be found on your legs, thumbprints on the inside of each ankle. his pillowy soft lips pressing a damp kiss to each bruise. hands grabbing your little feet one at a time, massaging them for just a moment. images of your socked feet up against his aching bulge flashing through his mind.

later.

he carried his way up, starting just above your knee, following around to the outside of your thighs. every mark getting a soft wet kiss. steve was right, this was helping, but it didn't make up for all the pairs of pants you're gonna have to wear for the next week.

with only three kisses left, steve noticed a change in you. you'd started to stir a bit, the pace of your breath changing as he started towards the softer skin that was your inner thighs.

that's my girl.

he stopped to speak, staying close enough for your cunt to feel the heat of his breath with every word.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he feigned cluelessness, though he could see the damp spot forming on the soft cotton that covered you.

the closeness of it all making you stir. if you shifted any more his nose would've bumped against your throbbing clit.

“just feels funny..” you shrug, desperately wanting to close your legs but steve’s broad shoulders held them open.

you knew about sex, you weren't that much of a prude. though you weren’t very well versed in sex either. you knew the logistics of how it happens. you'd been touched before but never like this. truth be told, the most you'd ever gotten was dry humped by youth pastor marcus in the church bathroom. this didn't feel like that though, friends don't do these kinds of things.

its silly to want your best friend to touch you like this, right?

steve felt himself growing harder by the second. cock beginning to leak into his jeans.

big hands coming up to massage over your thighs, steve offering you a smile. “ i know it does but its okay, princess. just taking care of you like I always do. you gonna let me finish taking care of you?”

looking at you expectantly, his hands slowly moving closer to your dampening cunt. though you hadn't verbally answered yet, your body seemed to give him the go ahead. legs parting even more, hips sinking down to push your sex closer to his face.

jesus fucking christ..

he moved with caution at first, lips covering the few stray marks that were left. each one pulling a whimper from you. he moved his way to where you needed him most. nose bumping up against the sticky wet mess. still covered by your underwear, he couldn't help but bury his face against you. the tip of his nose pressing right up against your sensitive little clit causing you to whine out. he inhaled deeply,

fuck— he just can't get enough of you.

the smell was intoxicating. the dampness seeping through, smearing across his lips. he’d dreamed of how you’d taste, but the real thing was so much fucking better. he peered up at you from time to time, watching your jaw fall open, big googly eyes staring down at him.

you're so very easy, aren't you?

perv!steve who began to lapping at the white cloth, tongue licking long flat stripes against you. his actions were gentle, but raunchy. nose and mouth buried between your pudgy lips, the fabric adding an odd sensation to the mix. it pulled the most filthy sounds from you. unsure of where to put your hands, you found yourself gripping at the couch cushions, nails digging into the spongey seat.

"s-..teve" you choked on your words.the way you were already unraveling filled him with amusement.

"need you." you managed to get the rest of your sentence out.

need him. you need steve.

as much as he'd like to make things go his way, this was about you. he needed to make sure you're aware of just how much he'd like to offer you. he sat back for a second, pushing his hair out of his face.

"you're gonna forget all about the bruises, mmkay? i promise." he nodded, fingers looping in your underwear pulling them off your body.

he stuffed the soaking wet pair into his back pocket, not caring if you saw or not. a new pair for the collection. he took a minute to stare, reaching between his legs to palm at his aching cock. balls begging to break free from the tight denim. this was not about him though, he'd deal with it later.

might even let you watch. if you behave..

you whined desperately at his words, legs parting enough to pull your sticky wet folds apart. slick coating every bit of you.

"you're gonna be the fucking death of me." he groaned, sitting forward, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips.

you felt yourself clench, clit throbbing desperately for attention. he didn't let you go untouched for long. he dove directly in, tongue attaching itself to your clit, moving in slow circles. the direct contact making your hips buck, clit grinding down against his tongue. your eagerness pulling a groan from him, his tongue vibrating against you. your head fell back against the couch, mouth hung open, the most beautiful sounds spilling out of you. the hands that held the couch found their way to his hair. holding him in place so that you could rut helplessly against his mouth.

steve let you use him to your liking, adoring your lusftulness. he moved around a bit, tongue moving down to fuck your greedy hole, in and out, working against your slippery walls. his nose made for the most perfect toy to get yourself off with. much better than the pillow you'd usually resort to at night. it didn't take you long to reach your end. stomach starting to churn, your thighs clamping around his head. one of his arms hooked around your hips, holding you still so that he could continue to fuck your tight hole. the other trailing up your body to grab a handful of your tit, pinching your nipple between his fingers. the added attention making your walls clamp down around his tongue.

he didn't bother encouraging you with words, not wanting to take his mouth off you. within seconds you were thrashing. your marked up thighs trembling helplessly. a string of noises and messy words falling from your lips as you humped against his face, gushing all over his tongue. he stayed like that until you were settled again, finishing you off with a kiss to your swollen clit. the sudden contact making you whine weakly.

steve let you wind down on your own for a moment before climbing up onto the couch to sit with you. lifting his arm up to let you splay yourself over him like a tired little puppy. he enjoyed seeing you like this. all glossy eyed and fucked out after just one orgasm.

god-.. he can't wait to ruin every bit of you.

he held you close, trying not to pay much attention to the painful mess between his own legs.

" feeling better, princess?” he asked quietly, a smile painting over his lips at your lazy nod.

"you were so good for me. proud of you." he cooed, mind combing through the list of different things he was gonna teach you.

#s.h.#perv!steve harrington #stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #ahh this is long #part 3 maybe?#perv!steve #casey writes

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

Note

oh may I request the "if you had the guts, [name], you would have kissed me." "you think something is stopping me from doing that right now? prompt for Alpha-17? I just love that big grump 🥹

thank you very much:)

Challenge

Summary: You're at a medical seminar, and Alpha-17 is there to play bodyguard for you. And your relationship changes.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1930

Warnings: Smut, shameless smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This wasn't going to be smut when I started to write it, but Alpha took control and said that this is happening, and I'm apparently weak for him. I'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted.

Divider by Saradika

“This place is awful,” Alpha-17 grumbles as he folds his arms over his chest and glowers at a scrawny Doctor who looks like he’s about to come over and talk to you.

“You didn’t have to come to this seminar, Alpha.”

“I’m following orders,” He replies sarcastically. “General Ti said you needed a bodyguard. So here I am. Guarding your body.”

“Hm…and what are you guarding my body from, exactly?” You ask, as you flip through the brochure, “What kind of food do you want me to order for us tonight, by the way.”

“Hm?” He glances at the brochure over your shoulder and taps a restaurant, “They have good curry, according to someone else’s bodyguard.” Alpha replies, though he doesn’t finish answering your question until you grabbed the menu for the restaurant that he indicated, “Anyway, I’m apparently protecting your body from horny scientists.”

“...wait, what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you seriously scaring off potential dates? Alpha!”

“You don’t need a date. You’re here for work, remember.” Alpha snarks.

“You sound jealous.”

“I’m pretty sure that guy can’t go up a flight of stairs without needing to pause to catch his breath.” Alpha says snidely, “He definitely wouldn’t be any fun in the sack.”

“Why are you even thinking about my sex life?” You ask.

“I have a lot of free time.”

“Which you spend thinking about me being naked.”

Alpha tilts his head and drags his gaze down your body, humming thoughtfully, “I have a very vivid imagination, princess.”

You scowl at him, and ignore the way that your face burns with the ease of long practice. You take a deep breath and look away from him, “You talk a good game, Alpha. But what would you do if I actually took you at your word?”

He arches an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“If you had the guts, Alpha, you would have kissed me already.” You say as you turn and meet his gaze evenly. Challenging Alpha is never a good idea, on account of the fact that he always wins. But you’re so tired of him flirting with you and then not doing anything about it.

Alpha straightens, and his gaze is locked on your face, “You think something is stopping me from doing that right now?”

“I don’t think you will. I think you’re all talk.”

Alpha stares at you for a long moment, absolutely silent, and then he smiles, slow and dark, “Okay.”

You pause and shoot him a strange look, “Okay?”

“Okay.” He repeats, his smile never once changing.

“Okay…” You say slowly, and then you turn your attention towards the brochure rack. However you expected him to react to your challenge, that wasn’t it.

You jerk when you feel his finger trail up your spine to stop in the middle of your neck, “You might just regret that, princess.” Alpha breathes in your ear, and then he’s no longer touching you.

You glance at him, he looks completely calm, though his gaze is locked on your face and the promising smile on his lips hasn’t wavered. You take a steadying breath, and turn to him, “Do you see anything you want to do?” You ask, as you motion at the stand.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “Yeah, I do.” His grin grows when you shift slightly under his heated gaze, “But I don’t see anything on the stand I’m interested in.”

“Great!” You reply as you quickly spin away from him, “Then I’ll just grab a few of the restaurant menus and then we can go.” You hear him chuckle behind you, and you kind of want to pout. But you also brought this on yourself.

You grab a handful, necessary since you’re going to be here at this seminar for the next week or so, and then you turn to head towards the lift. Alpha, dutifully, trails after you and settles against the wall inside the lift.

He slams his finger against the button that shuts the door, causing the doors to slide shut before another scientist can enter the elevator with you.

“That wasn’t nice,” You say as the lift starts moving.

“I’m not nice.”

“Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“You just keep digging that hole, don’t you princess?” Alpha murmurs, his eyes glittering.

You consider him for a moment, and then you lift your chin, defiantly, “I still think you’re all talk, Alpha.”

His smile grows into a grin, and he reaches out to brush his thumb over your lower lip, “You know why I didn’t kiss you in the lobby?” He asks conversationally.

“Because you don’t mean it.”

“Because I fully intend to have you naked as soon as I have you in the room, and no one is allowed to see that but me.” Alpha growls out, “Especially not those scientists down there.”

Your lips part slightly, “Oh.”

His thumb presses a little harder against your lower lip, “Unless, princess, you’re not interested.”

“I never said that,” You reply immediately, and Alpha smirks at you, his gaze heated, but drops his hand as the doors open. He allows you to lead the way to the room. He waits patiently as you key in the door code, and he waits patiently for the door to slide shut behind him.

And then he’s on you.

Your back is pressed against the door, and his lips are warm and demanding against yours. He uses his teeth and tongue to devastating effect, and when he breaks the kiss, you’re flushed and breathless.

He takes a step away from you, and you whine low in your throat, “Alpha-?” As he backs into the room and settles on the couch.

“Come away from the door, princess.” He orders, his voice a low rumble. And you obediently step away from the door, and get to the middle of the room, before his voice stops you, “Stop there.” Alpha leans back against the couch, his legs splayed, as he palms the obvious bulge in his pants. He lazily frees his cock from the confines of his pants, and smirks at you, “See something you like, princess.”

Your gaze is locked on his cock, and you take half a step towards him.

“Did I say you could move, princess?” Alpha asks, his voice low.

You hesitate, but move back into the original position.

“Good girl,” He praises as he lazily strokes his cock, “Strip for me, my pretty girl. I want to see you.”

With shaking hands, you start peeling your clothes off. First your shirt and bra, and then your pants and underwear. And as soon as you’re bare in front of him, you fold your arms over your stomach.

“Beautiful,” He murmurs, his gaze hungrily dragging down your body. Alpha considers you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Come here, princess.”

You cross the short distance quickly, and Alpha pulls you to balance on his knee, rather than pulling you flush against him like how you wanted. “Alpha-” His name slips from you in a whine, and he leans in to kiss you, turning your whine into a sigh.

He pulls away and leans back against the couch, “Touch yourself,” Alpha orders, his gaze dragging down your body to linger on your pussy, “Make yourself cum, princess.”

Your fingers twitch towards his cock, and he laughs softly, “I know what you want, princess.” One of his hands ghosts across your breasts, and he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, and he’s rewarded with a moan, “Can you do this for me, princess?”

You release a shaky breath, but you nod, and your hand slides down your body. You ease in a single finger and you thrust slowly, as you twist your wrist so you’re able to rub the little bundle of nerves that brings you so much pleasure.

You fall into your usual habits, your free hand coming up to clamp over your mouth to muffle your needy moans.

Alpha releases a growl and tugs your hand away from your mouth, “I want to hear you.” He threads his fingers with yours, and he’s not the least bit surprised when you tightly squeeze his hand.

And when you’re right there, right on the edge of reaching your climax, Alpha grabs your wrist and pulls your drenched hand away from your body. “No…’m so close….” you whine out, writhing on his lap for the friction that you need. Though you stop moving when Alpha takes your fingers into his mouth and starts licking them clean.

He releases your fingers, and pulls you a little closer, his lips catching yours in a heated kiss, and you moan at the taste of Alpha mixed with the subtle taste of yourself still on his tongue.

Your hips jerk when you feel the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, and slowly, very slowly, he pulls you down his hard length. He’s big, much bigger than your fingers or any of the toys you’ve used in the past. It’s a little uncomfortable, but as you settle fully on his length, the discomfort fades into pleasure.

Alpha breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, as curses fall from his lips at the way you’re fluttering around him, “So fucking tight,” He groans, “Let me know when you’re ready to move, princess.”

You press your face against his neck, your hands curling tightly into his shirt, and you nod. Slowly you rock your hips, unsure about the unfamiliar position, and it takes you a moment, but you eventually find a rhythm that has the coil in your stomach winding tight again.

“That’s right, princess. Use my cock to chase your pleasure,” He groans in your ear, shallowly thrusting up into you.

You release a quiet whine when you realize that you can’t quite push yourself over the edge, “Alpha-”

“Shh,” He soothes you with a hand down your spine, “What do you need, Princess?”

“I can’t-”

“I have you.” Alpha murmurs, “Wrap your arms around me.” You do as he instructs, wrapping your arms tightly around him, and then he thrusts up into you roughly, as one of his hands slides between you to quickly roll his thumb over your clit.

And finally the coil snaps, and Alpha’s name falls from your lips like a prayer. And he continues fucking you though your orgasm, chasing his own release as he holds you tightly against his chest, praise falling from his lips as you slowly came down from your high.

His thrusts become shallow, and his lips crash against yours as he pulls you down around him, hard, and then he holds you still as he spills his release deep inside you.

Alpha keeps you flush against him, staying buried deep within you as he presses lingering kisses against your neck and throat. And neither of you speak until you both have your breathing under control.

And then he tilts his head back to look at you, a smug smirk playing on his lips, “Do you believe me now?”

You blink at him, slightly bewildered, and then you pout, “Yeah. I guess.”

His smirk widens, and he lazily smoothes his hand down your spine, “So, Princess, how long do you think you need before round two?”

You release a breathless laugh, “Can we at least move to a bed, please?”

“Not a bad idea,” Alpha murmurs, “This time you’ll be under me, princess.” He kisses you deeply, and then stands, his arms strong around you.

#star wars #tcw #alpha-17 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #clone thirsting #answered asks #18+ fic

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bwabys-scenarios · 8 months

Text

Fixer Upper

Part 11

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

part 10

part 12

warning: reader is kinda in a bad place 😭 so if that seems like it could be triggering for you, you may not want to stick around for future chapters. because there are some sad reveals later on :(

taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na

If you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

If you like my writing, come join my discord!! we watch HXH, play games, and spend all night writing sometimes!! there’s also lots of content there that I may never post here!!

BEFORE THE HUNTER EXAM

(Name) pulled her cover off and placed her sock covered feet on the cold floor. It was another sleepy Tuesday morning, the sun shining onto her messy bed.

Her legs were still tired from her long walk from her campus yesterday. She yawned into her hand as she poured her coffee into the cat paw patterned cup her little brothers gave her for her birthday.

(Name) sipped slowly. The cheap store brand coffee wasn’t amazing, but it was better than nothing. She glanced at her phone to see a missed call from her mother.

‘She never calls. Must of heard of the news from school…’

She pressed call, waiting a few seconds before her mother picked up.

“You idiot, I can’t believe you dropped out! After all the money your dad and I-“

“I’ve already sent a check reimbursing you for the classes you paid for.”

Her mother gasped. “You disrespectful little… I hope you know we’ll be cutting you off for this. We already had low expectations for you, and you couldn’t even meet those. What a useless girl you are.”

(Name) sighed. ‘Cut me off? Not like you were supporting me much anyways.’

She looked around her crappy apartment with a sigh.

“And you’re taking the Hunter Exam. Well good for you. You gave up being a nurse to take the most dangerous test in the world. How smart of you.”

Sarcasm and hate dripped off of her voice like venom. (Name) didn’t respond. She was used to this by now, only sighing.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Her mother was quiet for a moment.

“No. In fact, I wanted to let you know that any further contact from you will be considered harassment. You will not be contacting any members of our family after this call.”

(Name)’s eyes widened, her cup slipping to the floor. “Wait, you don’t mean-“

“Yes. You will not be able to see your brothers. Ever again.”

She hung up the phone. (Name) stared down at the shattered cup before quickly trying to call her mother back.

“Please, pick up mom… not my brothers. You can’t take them from me!!”

But she didn’t answer, and soon she wasn’t able to call her at all.

‘Must of blocked me…’

She sat down, not caring about the coffee that had splashed on her legs and began to burn her skin. (Name) could only stare down at the shards of the only gift she had from her brothers.

(Name) glanced at the Hunter Exam application, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

‘Why not, not like I have anything to lose.’

The next few months (Name) went about life in a blur. She trained for the exam, slowly distancing herself from the small acquaintances she had from college, and breaking her lease.

She packed her backpack the night before the exam, placing several pairs of outfits, some canteens of water, food, other various items, and a dagger.

It was enough to be a good weight against her back, but not too heavy to make running or climbing difficult.

The last thing she packed into her bag was an envelope, carrying a letter.

“…”

She stared at the letter for a moment before stuffing it into the bottom of her bag, where it would be safe. It was the most important item in there, after all.

And she didn’t want anyone to read it until the time came.

———————

The first few trials of the exam had been hard, but she’d managed to scrape through and finally arrive where the First Phase would be held.

(Name) held onto one strap of her backpack quietly. Her navigator had been a bit worried for her, asking if she was okay.

“Yes, I’m alright. Just nervous I guess.”

The navigator nodded slowly. “I see. I think you’ll do well, dear, and if you don’t there’s always next year! I’ll see you then, yeah?”

(Name) looked down at her feet, not answering the woman. The navigator sighed before smiling.

“Good luck, I hope you pass!”

(Name) gave her a small smile back, waving as the doors closed and she began to descend. Her heart began to race. So far, she’d only met a few other Hunter applicants, all of them unkind. She was beginning to lose hope that she’d be able to make any type of alliances.

Not that she cared all that much. She didn’t think she’d be passing anyways.

Or surviving.

She looked down at the badge the navigator had given her.

‘#406. That must mean there are over 400 other applicants. Great.’

The doors opened up and (Name) walked out. Heads turned to stare at her, a few whistles and nods of approval could he heard and seen.

It wasn’t unexpected to (Name). After all, she was wearing a short white tennis skirt, and a pink cardigan over a white undershirt. Out of everyone else in sight, she seemed to be the only one dressed in such a way.

(Name) sighed as she joined the crowd. She looked around, her eyes glancing between each applicant before she spotted someone.

‘Oh thank god.’

She ran forward and grabbed onto a blonde woman’s sleeve, tugging it lightly.

“Hey there! I’m so glad I’m not the only woman here. Would you like to team up? Girls supporting girls and all?”

The blonde turned to her and blinked, tilting her head.

“Oh, um… you can join us, but…”

She blushed lightly, obviously embarrassed.

“I’m not a girl.”

(Name) tilted her head as the person next to the blonde bursted into laughter.

The blonde scowled and turned to the man. “And what is so funny, Leorio?”

The man, supposedly named Leorio, continued laughing. “Th-the first girl we meet and she thinks you’re a girl too! This is priceless!”

(Name) tightened her grip on the straps of her backpack. “I apologize. You’re just so pretty, I thought you were a girl.”

Yet again, the blonde blushed. “It’s alright, I promise. You said you were looking for someone to team up with, correct?”

She nodded as Leorio’s laughter died down. “Well you can stay with us. I’m not sure if we’ll be together the entire exam, but you’re welcome to tag along.”

“I sure wouldn’t mind a pretty little lady like you being on my t-“

The blonde hit him over the head with some sheathed weapon. “Ouch, Kurapika what was that for?”

The boy called Kurapika huffed. “I won’t have you being a creep to our new comrade. It’s disgraceful.”

“New comrade?”

A boy, who looked no older than twelve approached the group. “Oh, Gon! This girl asked to join up with us.”

(Name) waved at him. “Hello, I’m (Name).”

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

Leorio grabbed her hand with both of his and shook it. “Welcome to the team!”

She shook hands with the others as well, looking away shyly when her hand touched Kurapika’s.

‘He really is pretty…’

Kurapika smiled. “I bet the exam has been full of trials, did you come here alone?”

“Yes, the only other applicants I’ve met have tried tricking or hurting me into failing. I’m glad I’ve finally met some nice people.”

Kurapika’s face shifted into a grimace. “That’s deplorable. But I guess it’s to be expected. The applicants could be anyone, meaning there’s bound to be bad people.”

(Name) sighed, pulling out a water canteen from her bag and sipping on it. “Any idea on what the first phase will be?”

When she caught Gon staring at the canteen, she offered it to him. He took it with a smile. Everyone took a sip before handing it back to (Name).

“I see you’ve come prepared. If you don’t mind me asking, what else do you have in your backpack?”

She frowned slightly but pulled it over her shoulder and into her hands. “Not a ton of things, but I have some snacks and water, along with a few different outfits.”

Kurapika blinked. ‘Oh, I guess different outfits would be important to a woman.’

She offered the three some hard candy, which Gon and Kurapika took. As they waited for the phase to begin, they chatted amongst themselves to get to know each other.

“You dropped out of medical school!?”

Leorio seemed almost angry, but was calmed down when he saw the sad look on her face.

“Yes, I did. It’s not that I don’t want to go, I just… I didn’t really have a choice in what I was studying. I decided to take the Hunter Exam on a whim, really. I…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, quickly smiling to hide that she almost let her secret spill.

“I’m excited to succeed!”

Leorio’s eyes softened. She was hiding something, but he could tell it wasn’t sinister. It was more for their sake then her’s.

“I hope you do.”

———————

A sharp ringing sounded throughout the large room. A man named Tonpa had walked over and talked to the group a bit, (Name) not paying him much attention. She was much too busy chatting with Kurapika, who seemed happy to share his experience with the exam with her.

The group looked up to see a man with short purple hair and a curly mustache standing before them, holding the ringing alarm. He stopped it before speaking.

“As of this moment the exam is closed to any further applicants. I would like to officially welcome everyone here to the Hunter Exam.”

Gon grinned. “Alright, finally, it’s gonna get started!”

“Aw man, I can’t believe I’m getting nervous.” Leorio said, loosening his tie.

“Come with me. Let me take a moment to remind you all that the Hunter Exam is extremely demanding. If you’re unprepared or unlucky, you may well be injured or killed. If you are alright with accepting those risks, then you may continue following me.”

The group followed after him, (Name) sticking by Kurapika. He may not be a girl, but out of all of them he seemed the most trustworthy and reliable.

“Very well then. The number of applicants is 405. At least for now.”

(Name) thought back to when Hisoka had taken one of the applicants out, holding the straps to her backpack a little tighter as she walked.

Leorio glanced around the crowd. “I guess I should have expected it, but no one’s backed out yet. I hoped there might be a few.”

(Name) hummed. “If they’ve made it this far, I doubt they’ll be backing out anytime soon.”

Kurapika nodded. “Yes, I agree. Just the path to the Hunter exam is full of trials and tribulations that would make ordinary men- oh and women, give up.”

(Name) suppressed a giggle. “Mhm.”

The people in the front began to speed up. “Hey, he’s picking up the pace!” Kurapika said with a frown.

“Sorry for the delay, but allow me to introduce myself. I’m Satotz, the examiner for the First Phase. I’m also the one that’s leading you to the sight for the Second Phase. Some of you may have already realized that keeping up with me until we reach the Second Phase is in fact, the First Phase.”

Their light jog turned into a run, and thirty minutes passed with no change in pace.

(Name) sighed lightly as she kept pace with the group, having to hold a hand over her chest to keep it from bouncing too much. ‘Went through the trouble of wearing two sports bras for no change in the outcome. Annoying.’

(Name) paid no attention to Tonpa explaining that this phase was not only a physical test, but a psychological one. She didn’t really care, (Name) was too busy focusing on her breathing and heavy backpack.

A boy came racing in between them riding a skateboard. (Name) glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“Wow, that’s cool!” Gon called with a smile.

“Hey, kid on the skateboard, that’s not fair! You’re cheating!”

(Name) hummed and ran a bit ahead. She didn’t really feel like hearing Leorio harass a random kid. Kurapika watched her for a moment before following behind her.

“Sorry, he can be a bit annoying sometimes.”

Kurapika gave her a small smile, running beside her. (Name) shook her head. “No reason to be sorry. I’m just… not in the mood to hear someone yelling right now.”

“Hmm, that’s fair. Leorio can be pretty loud and obnoxious.”

(Name) hummed. “I happen to usually like loud and obnoxious people I’ll have you know. It’s just hard to to tolerate when I’m already tired from running.”

They both laughed. (Name) reached into her backpack and pulled out her canteen. “You thirsty? It’s been thirty minutes.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Kurapika took a drink before he handed it back. The girl immediately shoved it back into her bag, Kurapika raising an eyebrow.

‘Why did she take it out if not to take a sip for herself?’

He didn’t voice this question, instead focusing on his legs, willing them forward.

“So, Kurapika, how old are you?”

The blonde tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, shouldering her backpack again. “Just curious. If you want to know, I’m 18 myself.”

“17, 18 in April.”

(Name) nodded. ‘So we’re about the same age. Interesting…’

“And apparently Leorio is 19.”

“19!? He certainly doesn’t look the part.”

The two laughed again, (Name) nearly tripping, but quickly being steadied by Kurapika.

“Woah there, watch where you step. It is dark in here.”

(Name) nodded, lightly flustered from his grasp on her wrist. He let go quickly, seemingly unfazed by the physical contact.

3 hours pass by, and (Name) was beginning to get tired. The group stopped when Leorio collapsed, (Name) immediately rushing to his side. She dropped next to him, patting his back and offering him some water.

“Leorio!” Gon began running to join Leorio when the white haired boy, Killua called out to him.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? He’s finished, so just leave him behind.”

Gon frowned. “Come on, you don’t know that! Besides I can’t just leave him here, he’s my friend!”

“Friend?”

“Uh huh. That’s what I said.”

After chugging the rest of the water from one of her canteens, Leorio began to stand. “I’m not giving up… I came here to become a Hunter and that’s what I’m gonna do!”

(Name) watched as he rushed forward, Tonpa sighing.

“Hey take it easy, you need a break.”

“Shut up! If you’re just gonna stand around here, I’ll leave you… in my dust… hah hah… aww great, my legs won’t move.”

(Name) walked forward and handed him a handkerchief to wipe his sweat away with. Kurapika watched this interaction, his eyes watching her face twist into concern for a man she’d just met.

“So you’re not just in it for the money.”

Leorio huffed. “No, it’s all about money. There’s no other reason…”

“We don’t have time to argue about this. What do you think we should do now, Tonpa?”

(Name) stood up straight again, stretching lightly.

“Hmmm, wait a sec, that smell! Do ya remember? There was a sweet smell from that tunnel. Hey, I think it might help you recuperate!”

“What?”

“I thought I recognize that smell, I think it’s the sap of the healing cedar tree!” Tonpa exclaimed.

“Healing cedar?”

“Yeah! The sap is used by Hunters who often become exhausted in the forest. All you have to do is smell the aroma for a while and you can recover and keep on going.”

Kurapika stopped Tonpa from carrying Leorio away. “Wait a minute, it could be a trap.”

“Maybe, but we can’t just leave him behind now, can we? It’s a chance we’re gonna have to take.”

The blonde frowned. “Yes, but…”

“I’m king of the flunkies. You wanna know why I failed the exam 34 times? I’m a sucker for anyone that needs my help.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. She glanced between Leorio and Tonpa.

“It’s okay. As soon as Leorio recovers, we’ll catch up to you, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Tonpa… Gon, Kurapika, (Name), don’t worry about me. Go for it!”

(Name) crouched down and rearranged her backpack as the others spoke, then stood as they began to leave, watching Leorio carry him away with a suspicious look.

‘Don’t trust him one bit.’ She thought.

“What are you doing, are you coming or not?”

“Oh yeah, sorry to keep you waiting. You can go on ahead.”

Killua tilted his head. “You mean you’re not going to keep going?”

“Yeah, not unless it’s with Leorio.”

(Name) nodded. “Me either. I’m still worried for him, he wasn’t doing too hot…”

Both Gon and Kurapika noticed her staring into the distance, clutching her cardigan tightly.

“Kurapika, I’m going to see how they’re doing. Tonpa said they’d be okay, but I’m still worried.”

“I’ll come with you. We can always catch up to the group later on.”

Gon nodded towards Killua. “Alright, we’ll be back. Then, if you want, you can tell me your name. Because I still don’t know what it is.”

Kurapika glanced at (Name). “Will you be coming as well?”

She gave him a quick nod. “Of course. I can’t just abandon someone in need.”

He didn’t respond, racing after Gon towards where they had last seen Leorio and Tonpa heading.

But he did feel something stir in his chest when his eyes met hers.

‘She’s kind. It’s… nice to see that in such a place.’

The three stopped when they spotted Tonpa lying on the ground.

“Tonpa! What’s wrong?”

He groaned and lifted himself up slowly. “Oh, it’s you. Hurry, they need your help!”

“What happened back there?” Kurapika asked, glancing between Tonpa and the hallway he pointed to.

“It was a trap. Worst I’ve seen. Hurry!”

(Name) turned and ran towards where Tonpa had been pointing, the two following behind her.

The three continued to run until they came across Nicholas, one of the applicants.

“Nicholas! What’s wrong?”

The boy slowly moved so he was on his hands and knees, looking back at them with a delirious expression. Kurapika subconsciously pushed (Name) behind him.

The man began to walk away while laughing to himself. Kurapika watched him for a minute before speaking.

“Let’s go, we have to find Leorio.”

Gon and (Name) nodded. “Yeah.”

——————

“Leorio, can you hear me? Leorio!!!”

Gon continued to call out Leorio’s name as they ran, (Name) noticing Kurapika beginning to slow down.

“Kurapika?”

She stopped next to him, Gon circling back when he noticed they were no longer running. “What’s wrong?”

Kurapika eyes became hazy, the blonde holding up his weapons to defend himself. “The Phantom Troupe…”

His breath came out in short pants as his eyes began to turn a deep shade of scarlet.

“Oh no…please, don’t do it…”

He collapsed onto the ground, (Name) quick to kneel by his side. “Kurapika, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“Can you hear me?” Gon asked, concern lacing his voice.

Kurapika stared at the ground as sweat beaded down his forehead.

He fell, lying against the ground. “Make… them stop… please…”

He stared off into the distance, unable to move. (Name) wasn’t sure what to do, so she rubbed soothing circles into his back. “Kurapika, no one’s here. It’s just us.”

He didn’t relax though. His eyes remained that same scarlet color. “We have to get going. I’ll carry him.”

(Name) hoisted Kurapika up and over her shoulder. Gon blinked. “Wow, you’re strong.”

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I grew up with two younger brothers who looooved piggy back rides.”

“Can I get one too? Later, I mean.”

(Name) laughed. “Sure, after we find Leorio.”

They continued, now slowed down because of Kurapika’s weight. She didn’t seem to have much trouble carrying him, only occasionally grunting and rearranging him on her shoulder.

“So, Gon, why do you want to be a Hunter?”

The young boy hummed, adjusting the line on his fishing pole. “Mmm, I’m not sure yet, but I want to find my dad. He’s a Hunter too.”

‘Find? Did his dad abandon him?’

(Name) nodded slowly. “I see.”

“What about you?”

The girl paused, her grip on Kurapika’s thigh tightening ever so slightly. “Well… I didn’t have many options.”

Gon tilted his head. “Really?”

“Yeah. I… just thought it would be fun to try out.”

She sighed. (Name) didn’t enjoy lying, especially to an honest boy like him, but the truth about the situation wasn’t something a child should know. Gon didn’t respond.

The hallway was quiet for a bit, until Kurapika grunted loudly. (Name) turned her head a bit to see if he’d woken up, only for him to begin struggling against her and cry out.

“Kurapika! Are you alright?”

He wiggled out of her grasp, and just as she was about to lean over and help him back up, the white haired boy from before appeared, kicking the blonde in the face.

“Kurapika!”

She rushed over to his side, crouching down as he lifted his upper half onto his forearms to look up.

She helped him into a sitting position, the blonde leaning against her for support.

“Kurapika?”

Gon ran over, Killua standing in front of (Name) and Kurapika. The red had left his eyes, leaving them the pretty brown color she had noticed when she first met him.

“Oh good, you’re finally back to normal!” Gon said, smiling.

“But, uh…”

Killua watched Kurapika and (Name) with his blue eyes. “There is no healing cedar tree.”

“Huh!?”

“The sap comes from the tree of hallucination, it’s been used by assassins for a long time. It’s victims re-experience the worst events of their lives, and it eventually drives them insane.”

Kurapika blinked slowly, realizing he’d been leaning against (Name). He pulled back, the girl reaching out to make sure he didn’t fall.

“How do you know that?” Gon asked.

“So that means Tonpa must of…”

Killua nodded at the blonde. “Yeah, that’s right, he set you guys up.”

Kurapika growled in anger, gripping onto (Name)’s sleeve.

“We should go.”

“Sure, I think I know a way we can save the old guy you were with, and catch up with the group again with a single move.”

(Name) helped Kurapika stand, the blonde grateful for her help. She’d only known him for an hour but was risking failing the exam to make sure him and Leorio were okay.

“A games no fun unless there’s some risks.”

“I’m glad we met up again! Are you going to tell me your name?”

The boy smiled at Gon. “It’s Killua.”

———————

“Okay Killua, tell us your idea.”

He pulled out a small object from his pocket. “It’s a bomb, small but effective.”

(Name) pulled Gon back by his shoulders a bit by instinct. He didn’t react, only glancing at her hands before responding.

“That’s a bomb?”

“Let’s blow up this wall and all the disgusting sap covering it.”

He placed the bombs all over the wall, (Name) stepping a few feet back. Kurapika watched as she carefully maneuvered Gon to a safe distance, the dark haired boy not seeming to mind at all.

The explosion began, the four leaping through the opening created by the bomb to grab Leorio.

They all fell onto the ground, (Name) being caught before she face planted by Kurapika. He pulled her up slightly before letting go.

“It worked! Not the easiest way to travel but it is fast! I guess there’s no turning back now.”

Kurapika blinked as (Name) knelt next to Leorio. “You alright?”

“Gon? (Name)? Kurapika? … Pietro?”

She patted his back gently. “It’s just us, Leorio.”

“You were hallucinating as a result of inhaling the sap. Tonpa fooled us all.”

Leorio gave (Name) a smile, accepting her hand when she offered to pull him to her feet.

“So that’s what that was. Guess I owe you guys one for saving my butt. But how did you manage to avoid it?”

Kurapika shook his head. “It was a close call for me.”

“(Name) and I were fine!”

“I guess it wouldn’t work on Gon cuz he’s still a kid, so he doesn’t have any problems yet.”

‘But why wouldn’t it work for (Name)?’

Leorio and Kurapika glanced at the girl, who was pulling out a bandaid to place on Gon’s knee. The two seemed to already be friendly with each other, laughing when Gon nearly tripped again.

“Hey old man, we don’t have time to sit around chatting.”

“OLD MAN!? What are you-“

“His names Killua!”

“Ready for the next round?”

Killua threw more bombs past Leorio’s head. “What was that, I heard a click.”

(Name) covered Gon and Killua with her cardigan, then shielded her ears.

“THEY’RE BOMBS!?”

The group of five jumped through the hole the bombs left, Gon handing (Name) her cardigan after they landed. “Thanks (Name)!”

Killua watched her with narrow eyes. ‘What does she get out of protecting us with that flimsy cardigan? What is she after..?’

A plume of smoke dispersed through the hallway, the sound of the other applicants coughing echoing on the walls.

“What exactly is going on here?” Satotz asked.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, but we had to break through the walls.” Gon said apologetically.

“I never said you couldn’t destroy the walls, but tell me, how is it that you survived after wondering through the tunnels of hallucinations? I’m quite impressed.”

(Name) pulled some debris from her hair, sighing. Leorio spotted Tonpa and rushed forward, grabbing him by the collar. “How dare you! I have a score to settle with you!”

“Stop, Leorio!”

(Name) pulled out a piece of hard candy and began to suck on it as her new comrades argued. Killua watched her do this and crouched down next to her.

“You got candy?”

She tilted her head then smiled. “Yes, would you like a piece?”

She offered him a piece of butterscotch candy, which he took. ‘… maybe she’s not so bad after all. I’ll still keep my distance but…’

He didn’t sense any malicious intent from her, just… something. Something that honestly unnerved him a little.

——————

(Name) and Kurapika kept pace with each other, eventually reaching Leorio who had taken off his shirt.

“I see, so you were lying to us before.”

“Didn’t lie! My objective has always been to make a lot of money! And whatever happened in the past, happened in the past! I have no interest in doing anything that won’t make me any money!”

Kurapika sighed. “I wish you luck.”

“I don’t need luck, I’m going to become a hunter or die trying!”

“No, a doctor.”

(Name) giggled next to them.

“Could you please not look at me like that, Kurapika? It makes me a little nervous. Now come on, let’s go!”

The blonde smiled. “You alright now, Leorio?”

“Yeah I’m fine, check it out! I don’t care how stupid I look! I’d keep running even if I was naked! Pretend you don’t know me if you want!”

(Name) gasped when Kurapika threw off his tabard and stuffed it into his bag. Kurapika glanced at her. “Maybe we should follow his example.”

She pulled off her cardigan and stuffed it into her backpack.

It didn’t take long for her to catch up to Leorio, who instantly noticed she was no longer covered by her thick cardigan.

“WOAH! You’ve got a nice figure. Plump and soft, just how I like th-“

Kurapika kicked the back of his legs, causing him to crumple before getting back up and running behind them.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”

The blonde shrugged. “Sorry, pervert senses were tingling.”

———————

They reached the outside, (Name) instantly unbuttoning her undershirt so she could fan herself. It was hot, and even with just her skirt and top she was sweating. “Yeesh, I’m burning up.”

She crouched down and fanned herself with her hand, ignoring what was going on. They seemed to be distracted by some kind of “impersonator”, but she didn’t care all that much.

The magician disposed of the impersonator and they began to run again.

‘Ah, maybe I should have listened a little…’ she thought, watching as the people around her began to be attacked by mysterious beasts.

She glanced around to see she’d already lost her group, sighing to herself.

“You lost, little girl?”

(Name) blinked before turning her head to the left to see Hisoka leaning against a tree. He smiled at her, holding a card in his hand.

“Dunno, maybe.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, giving Hisoka a bored look. “Hmm…”

Hisoka stepped forward, looking her over. “Not bad… you certainly have some potential.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Potential? What do you mean by that?”

The magician tossed a card in her direction, the girl not even flinching when it sliced her cheek. She continued to stare at him, the look in her eyes making him shiver.

It was the look of someone prepared to die.

“I see… so that’s why you’ve peaked my interest…”

He pointed behind him. “You pass. If you continue that way, you’ll catch up to the group in no time.”

He began to walk in the opposite direction, quickly passing her by.

“Wait, if that way is the right direction, then why are you going that way?”

He only chuckled. “I have some… business to take care of.”

She sighed and took out her dagger. “Whatever.”

She continued running in the direction he pointed to, the man barely restraining himself from letting out a moan.

“God, I can’t wait until she’s ready to fight.”

He chuckled to himself before continuing on his run.

“(Name)!”

Gon yelled out, nearly crashing into the girl. She paused, catching him in her arms. “Gon, you’re okay!”

She squeezed him lightly before noticing Kurapika as well. “(Name)…”

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “Your cheek…”

She blinked before swiping at her cheek with her sleeve. “Oh, this? You can thank Hisoka for it. He attacked me, then said I passed and pointed to where I could find the group. Still haven’t found them, though.”

Kurapika gripped his weapons tightly. “He’d even hurt a woman? That sick bastard…”

(Name) sighed. “It doesn’t hurt that much, and once we get to the sight of the second phase I’ll put a bandaid on it. I guess I’m just lucky to have survived this long, considering I’ve been alone these past thirty minutes.”

She offered the two a drink from her canteen, which they took. After that they continued, Kurapika keeping a close eye on the girl.

Killua was waiting near the edge of the crowd, and was the first one to see the three arrive.

“Gon, (Name)!”

He smiled, putting his hands in his pockets.

(Name) bent over to catch her breath before rushing over to the still unconscious Leorio.

Hisoka had pointed him out seconds before, winking at the girl. Kurapika scowled when he noticed Hisoka watching her every movement.

‘That creep. I’ll need to stick by her so he doesn’t get any weird ideas.’

Leorio didn’t remember anything, but seemed happy to have (Name) taking care of his injuries. Kurapika pulled her back to gently wipe her cheek.

“Leorio can wait a second, you need to tend to yourself first.”

She looked to the ground, nodding. ‘But I don’t really care about my own injuries…’

Nonetheless, she cleaned the cut and applied a hello kitty bandaid before going back to Leorio.

Satotz left shortly after wishing them all luck. Killua watched her tend to Leorio before walking off and chatting with Gon.

“Alright, you should be okay. It’s going to take a while for the swelling in your cheek to go down, though.”

She helped pull him to his feet before pulling her backpack over her shoulders. “Thank you, beautiful. If I had you to tend to me, I’d get hurt all the time.”

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ll be taking care of your injuries after this.”

(Name) chuckled, poking Leorio’s good cheek. “Don’t get hurt on purpose, big guy.”

———————

“It’s almost time!” Gon said.

“I’m getting a little nervous.” Kurapika replied, holding onto his satchel tightly.

“I think you’ll do fine.” she patted his shoulder gently, a smile on her lips.

“Just about anything could be waiting for us behind those doors…”

The clock rang soon after Leorio finished his sentence. The doors to the building opened, a loud growling sound making (Name) jump and hide behind Kurapika and Leorio.

“Thanks for waiting. Buhara, how are you feeling now, hungry?”

A woman with greenish blue hair sat in front of a giant of a man, who’s stomach had been causing the loud noise.

“Yeah Menchi, I think anyone who has ears can hear that I’m starving!”

She smiled shyly at the group in front of her. “As you might have guessed, us two Gourmet Hunters are in charge of judging the Second Phase.”

“Gourmet Hunters?”

“What’s that?”

“Gourmet Hunters travel around the world collecting all sorts of exotic ingredients. They then use them to create new innovative dishes that have never been tasted. Before becoming Hunters, most of them were gourmet chefs.” Kurapika answered

‘Hmm, he’s smart.’ (Name) thought, watching the blonde.

“Hmm, so then this phase…”

“Right! So the subject for this phase, is cooking!”

“COOKING!?”

(Name) smiled. ‘This is actually something I can do!’

She listened to the two examiners, nodding along.

“Man, I’ve never cooked anything before in my life!” Leorio said with a sigh. (Name) was taken aback by this.

“Never? How are you still alive?”

Kurapika looked away from the girl. ‘I’ve never cooked either, but I’ll keep that to myself,’ he thought, not wanting to embarrass himself.

Gon smiled. “I know how to cook!”

The three turned towards the boy. “You serious? What can you make?” Leorio asked.

“I can make a lot of different stuff, but my specialty is macaroni and cheese!”

“Macaroni… and cheese?”

(Name) giggled. “Oh, Gon, that’s great for your age.”

“Well, I guess you could call that cooking.”

Kurapika gave the boy a smile as Leorio laughed. “Come on, it doesn’t take much of a chef to make a simple dish like macaroni and cheese.”

“Hey, that’s not true! Aunt Mito always said no one makes it like me!”

(Name) nodded along, patting his head.

“I’m sure she’s right. Maybe you can make it for me sometime.” Leorio said, snickering.

“Met too.” Kurapika agreed, seemingly amused by the innocent boy.

(Name) gave him a piece of candy, quickly grabbing a piece for Killua as well. “Here, I’ll want some of that macaroni and cheese as well. Is this payment good enough?”

She winked, the boy laughing. “Yes, this will do!”

“Listen up! My order is…”

(Name) quieted down, glancing back to the large man known as Buhara.

“A whole roasted pig! It’s my absolute favorite, and living in the forest is the great stamp! The most ferocious and delicious pig of them all!”

“The great stamp?” The entire group asked in unison.

The ground began to shake underneath them, a herd of pigs barreling towards them. Kurapika pulled (Name) out of the way just in time, the girl letting out a gasp as her skirt flew up from the gust of wind accompanying the stampede.

She was thankful she had worn a pair of shorts underneath, but other people weren’t.

“Aww, there’s shorts.”

(Name) and Kurapika turned to look at Leorio at the same time.

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

Kurapika shook his head at (Name). “You don’t want to know what goes through that pervert’s mind.”

He ushered her away, glaring back at Leorio as he did.

They continued running away from the giant pigs, (Name) and Kurapika teaming up.

“It’s snout is tough, did you see how it launched all those grown men?”

Kurapika nodded. “Yes, but it should have some sort of weakness. Perhaps…”

From the corner of his eye, Kurapika watched Gon hit the stamp over the head, causing it to fall over dead.

“(Name), I have a plan, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

They hid behind a tree so he could explain. “You’re going to grab a thick tree branch, and I’m going to throw you onto the pigs back. Then, you’ll hit it over the head. We’ll repeat this twice.”

She seemed a bit uncomfortable with this plan, glancing to the pig sniffing around for them. “Oh um… are you sure you can pick me up?”

He tilted his head, looking her up and down. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be able to?”

Too embarrassed to answer that, she agreed to the plan.

“Okay, on the count of three, we’ll rush out to attack.” Kurapika said, grabbing her hand. (Name) looked down, her face heating up ever so slightly.

“One!”

“Two!”

“THREE!”

They rushed out, causing the pig to run towards them. Kurapika grabbed (Name) by the waist and threw her into the air. “AHHH!”

She landed with a huff onto the pig’s back, groaning.

“You’ve got it, (Name)! Hit it now!”

She recovered quickly, bringing the stick down with as much force as she could manage. The pig collapsed, (Name) barely moving out of the way before she was crushed.

“You did it!”

Kurapika rushed over to help her up, smiling. The girl rubbed her bottom. “That landing hurt, I’m not excited to do that again.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, it’s just the safest way to do it.”

The two repeated the action, Kurapika helping her off the second time.

“Owie…”

Kurapika could only gently pat her shoulder. “You alright?”

She nodded slowly. “As alright as I can be, after being thrown in the air and landing on a pig.”

Kurapika laughed at this, the girl joining him.

————————

Buhara ended up passing everyone that entered a roasted pig.

Menchi scolded him for passing everyone, but (Name) wasn’t listening. She was busy staring at Kurapika’s hand, that was placed on her shoulder.

“I’m not an armrest, ya know.”

Kurapika pulled his hand back, cheeks going pink. “Oh, sorry! I meant to say thank you for your help, but I got distracted by Buhara and Menchi.”

She giggled. “Well thank you for coming up with the plan. Now we’ve both passed half of the second phase!”

He relaxed, returning her smile.

“For the next part of this phase you’ll be filling my order, which is… sushi.”

Leorio tilted his head. “Sushi?”

“Sushi? Wonder what that is…” killua thought aloud.

“Any ideas?” Kurapika asked (Name), turning to her. She shook her head.

“No, unfortunately I’ve never heard of that dish before.” The two sighed.

“You guys look pretty stressed out! But I don’t blame you for not knowing what it is. Sushi is an ethnic dish from a small island country. I’ll give you a little hint. Inside you’ll find your work stations!”

(Name) tilted her head. “Work station?”

The applicants walked inside, seeing various kitchen work stations.

“Here’s where you’ll prepare the dish. Each station has all the essential tools and ingredients. I’ve even prepared the rice for you, which is necessary to make sushi. And now for one final hint! I’m particularly fond of hand molded nigiri sushi!”

(Name) stood at her station, between Kurapika and Leorio.

“Alright then, you guys can get started! This test will conclude as soon as I’m full. Until then you can serve me as many pieces as you want.”

(Name) watched Leorio stare at the barrel of rice. “Hmm… hand molded? That should give me some sort of indication of what it’s supposed to look like. But that still doesn’t tell me what other things I need to use.”

Kurapika hummed. “Nigiri sushi… I’m not sure exactly how this food is supposed to be made, but I think I’ve read about it somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Let’s see, if I recall, it’s made mostly of rice, mixed with vinegar and some type of raw fish.”

“RAW FISH!?”

(Name) jumped at the sound of his voice, Kurapika’s eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

“We’re stuck out here in the middle of a forest!”

Kurapika threw his spoon at Leorio, hitting his forehead.

“Would you be quiet? There are rivers in forests you know and we could fish in them!”

“Hmph.”

The two looked around, seeing all the other applicants staring at them. Menacingly.

They raced out of the building, leaving the three alone. (Name) set her bag down and began running after them, Kurapika and Leorio following her lead.

“It’s no fair! They were eavesdropping!”

Kurapika sighed. “It’s not their fault, I was the one who shot my mouth off.”

“This sucks! Now everyone knows what’s in it!”

(Name) patted Kurapika on the shoulder. “I’m sure they would have figured it out anyways. Considering we were about to leave and return with fish.”

He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

———————

The three returned with fish of varying types. (Name) traded Gon a few pieces of candy in exchange for a few fish.

“Well, all that’s left is to cook. Good luck boys!”

She gave them both a reassuring pat on the back before beginning her cooking process.

(Name) thought back to what Menchi had said, along with Kurapika’s limited information.

‘Does that mean the fish is supposed to be molded into the rice? Or the rice covers it?’

She tilted her head as she began to clean the fish. ‘Well, I assume I’ll at least need to cut it into fillets. After all, no one is dumb enough to serve her a whole, raw fish, right?”

Wrong.

(Name) watched with an incredulous expression as Leorio served Menchi an entire fish, still flipping around, halfway covered in rice.

Of course, Menchi rightly knocked the plate away. Leorio sulked back to his station.

“She didn’t like it…”

(Name) raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet. ‘So he wasn’t kidding when he said he’s never cooked before…’

“What are you making?”

(Name) looked up to see Kurapika peeking over her shoulder. “Hey, no peeking!”

She bumped him with her hip, scolding him. “No cheating off of me!”

He pouted. “I wasn’t trying to… I was just curious.”

“Well be curious in that direction.”

“No, because you’re pointing at Leorio.”

“HEY!”

(Name) giggled to herself as she finished her dish, beaming. “I’m done!”

She carried her plate to Menchi, setting it down in front of her. “Here’s my entry!”

Menchi hummed, seemingly interested from the smell alone.

“It’s sushi! I um… think!”

Menchi looked down at the dish. It definitely wasn’t sushi, but the girl had obviously tried, and if Menchi appreciated anything, it was effort.

The blue haired woman took a bite. “Hmm… too salty, but good try. It’s not quite sushi, but it tastes good. Go back and try again.”

(Name) blinked, then nodded. She felt dejected, she’d tried her hardest!

She walked back to her station, grabbing her bag. “(Name), what are you doing?”

“I give up.”

The two stared at her. “You give up? Why??”

“I’m a failure, I couldn’t make sushi.”

“(Name).”

Kurapika patted her head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your dish is the only one Menchi has even taken a bite of so far. Why don’t you try again?”

(Name) pouted. “… I’m going to go sit by the river.”

The two watched her walk away, her head hung low.

“Drama queen.” Leorio said, before getting back to his work.

“Well…” Kurapika stared in her direction for a moment. “She’s certainly… dramatic.”

But the blonde couldn’t help following her with his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey Kurapika, come try this! (Name) had some leftovers!”

Kurapika sighed. “You shouldn’t just eat the food she prepared…”

But he did join Leorio, taking a bite. “Oh wow, it is really good.”

The two snacked on her leftover food before getting back to work.

(Name)’s eyebrow twitched when she noticed Hisoka already sitting by the river. ‘Fuck it. Yolo.’

(Name) sat down a few feet away from him, tossing rocks into the water. She wasn’t even attempting to skip them, just throwing them into the river.

“… (Name).”

She hesitantly looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“What are you doing here?”

She huffed. “Sulking.”

“Hmm.”

(Name) went back to her rock throwing, Hisoka now watching her. “Gave up that easily, huh?”

She paused. “As if you didn’t as well?”

He smirked. “Touché.”

The two sat in silence for a bit, before (Name) heard someone running up behind her. “(Name)- oh.”

The person paused a good distance away from her. “Can you come here? Away from…”

Hisoka raised his hand. “I’m not going to hurt her. We were just… talking.”

‘Oh now people are going to think I’m friendly with the murder clown.’

(Name) stood up, and stuck out her tongue at Hisoka for good measure. ‘There, now people will think I hate him! Orrr that I have a death wish. Which isn’t exactly wrong but-‘

“(Name), we know what sushi is now!”

It was Kurapika, and he was smiling at her. “Come on, now we’ve got a real chance to pass!”

Her pulled her back to the building by her hand, smiling widely. She couldn’t help but smile too.

‘He thought of me.’

———————

Though they all tried their hardest, even after figuring out how to make sushi, none of them could satisfy Menchi.

She poured herself a cup of green tea, sipping slowly. “Ah..”

(Name) had just given her the last piece of sushi, and had been rejected yet again.

“Sorry, but I’m completely stuffed!”

Hanzo blinked. “So then, what happens now?”

“Like I said, the test is over and this time no one passed. Thank you, come again.”

The air grew tense, (Name) too busy pouting to really care. ‘But I tried so hard…’

She only looked up when Gon stole Menchi’s phone.

“Oh dear.”

She turned her head when she heard someone destroy one of the cooking stations. ‘Sore loser.’ (Name) thought, munching on piece of candy.

“Alright, I’ll show you what it means to be a Gourmet Hunter.”

Menchi left, saying she’d be back in about an hour. (Name) took this as an opportunity to chat with Buhara.

“Sorry that people are being disrespectful. I’m actually a chef myself, but not on any level close to you two.”

Buhara seemed a bit surprised by her comment. “Ah, that makes sense. Menchi seemed to enjoy your dishes the best. If she hadn’t been so picky today, I’m sure she would have passed you.”

(Name) nodded. “Yeah, but that’s not how things went.”

She sat down next to him, taking out a piece of candy and handing it to the man. “Here, I know after I’ve eaten a savory meal I like to have something a little sweet to balance it out.”

‘This girl…’

He took the candy. ‘I’m starting to understand Menchi’s interest in her.’

(Name) and Buhara chatted, exchanging recipes and laughing over stories about cooking gone wrong.

“Is she becoming friends with the examiner?”

Kurapika watched her, eyes wide. Leorio cheered. “Yeah, butter him up (Name)! Use your womanly charm and get us a passing grade!”

Kurapika smacked him over the head. “First of all, she’s not doing that. Secondly, if she was, you screaming out her plans would foil them.”

“Oh.”

Menchi returned, momentarily glancing at (Name) and Buhara with a raised eyebrow before showing off her finds.

(Name) watched as the brute from before kicked the table Menchi had served the plate on over, nearly hitting (Name) in the face.

To her surprise, Buhara extended a hand to shield her. “Oh, thank you!”

He gave her a nod. “No problem.”

A few applicants attempted to get near Machi, but Buhara hit them with surprising strength. “Ooo get ‘em!!” (Name) called, cheering him on.

The wrestler Todo ended up pushing Buhara over, but the man seemed unfazed. “Ooo, you’re pretty strong. Guess it’s time to get serious. Think you can handle it?”

Menchi stepped in. “I can take care of him by myself.”

(Name) stared wide eyed as Menchi beat the absolute SHIT out of Todo, only using her legs.

‘That’s kind of hot.’ (Name) thought.

Kurapika pulled (Name) to safety. “Come here, it’s not safe over there.”

“Oh.”

She hadn’t realized, but it had become kind of a fighting zone. Kurapika noticed she kept staring at Menchi, but didn’t think much. Her and Satotz were arguing, (Name) only catching the end of it.

“I was trying to see how resourceful these guys were. Could they face a challenge for which they had little or no experience?”

“That may be true, Menchi, but since no one passed that test, don’t you think it may have been a bit too difficult?”

‘Oh god the sky is talking.’

“It’s an airship with the Hunter Association’s logo!”

‘Oh. That makes more sense.’ (Name) thought, being pulled outside by Kurapika.

“Oh shit an old guy!” (Name) gasped, pointing at an old man falling from the sky. “I was not expecting to see an old man die today.”

The man landed, seemingly unfazed. ‘Oh so he’s some sort of wizard. Wait did she say chairman?’

Killua and Gon seemed surprised he hadn’t broken his legs. “I’m surprised he isn’t a chairman pancake.” (Name) said, patting Gon on the head.

Apparently, he was the highest authority in the Hunter Association.

(Name) stood near Menchi, glancing at her at her as Netero talked. ‘She’s cute.’

“I have an idea. We’re going to give them all a second chance at the test, and I would like for you to continue being the examiner for this. But this time around I want you to demonstrate how it’s done before the applicants make an attempt. Does that sound reasonable? I think this will go a long way for everyone to accept your ruling.”

The group of five were relieved that they would be getting a second chance.

“The test is, a boiled egg.”

———————

The group rode on the airship to a large mountain.

“So, this is the spot.” Menchi said, standing before a cliff.

“What is this place?”

“How deep is it, I can’t see the bottom?”

Menchi smiled. “Not to worry, at the bottom is a deep river. Now, watch and learn boys.”

She fell backwards down the cliff.

“This deep ravine happens to be home of the spider eagle. And she’s gone down to retrieve one of its eggs.” Netero informed the group. (Name) peeked over the cliff.

“Wow!”

Menchi climbed back up with ease, pulling the egg from her bra. “You might want to be a little careful, the river runs very fast so if you fall you’ll be whisked out to sea before you know what hit ya!”

(Name) handed her bag to Buhara. “Could you watch this for me, please?”

He nodded, the group gasping when she rushed forward and jumped. “(Name)!”

They all followed after her, (Name) holding onto one of the strings and swinging up to stand on one. “Whew, I’m awful at the balancing act!”

Kurapika stared at her, blinking. “(Name), please be careful.”

She blinked. “Oh, sorry. I’ll try.”

Killua glanced at her from his spot, already finding an egg. ‘She should be alright…’ he thought, before going back to his task.

The boy furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Why am I concerned for her safety? She’s just some woman…’

Eagles began attacking the contestants, (Name) managing to climb up to Kurapika. The boy held onto her, keeping her steady. “Did you get an egg?”

(Name) nodded, pointing to her chest. “I’m following Menchi’s example!”

The blonde blushed, quickly changing the subject. “… let’s climb up before the eagles come back.

———————

Menchi had them drop all of their eggs into a large pot. “Don’t think the test is over yet! You still have to boil them. Over cooking or under cooking will fail you!”

Buhara began to sweat, staring at the pot. (Name) placed a hand on his arm. “You alright, Buhara?”

“I think he knows something we don’t!”

The group began pulling their eggs out, (Name) patting his arm after. Menchi seemed pissed. “You couldn’t have made it anymore obvious!”

Menchi glanced at (Name) yet again, calming slightly. “This is an ordinary chicken egg, and this is a spider eagle egg. Now go ahead and compare how they taste!”

(Name) glanced at Menchi, before halving her egg and handing it to her. “Here!”

The woman blushed, taking it. “Oh, um… thank you, applicant 406.”

“My name is (Name).” She said with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, (Name).”

The women smiled, eating together. “Menchi, this is delicious! Wow, gourmet hunters sure know their stuff!”

The woman seemed to become flustered from (Name)’s praise. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with us. Buhara told me how kind you were to him earlier. I…”

She shook her head, turning her attention to the group. “Listen up, for the second phase, 43 pass! Menchi’s Menu is over!”

The all cheered, (Name) pulling in her four friends in for a hug. “Hehe!”

The group boarded the airship, on their way to the next phase.

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