#you: why would you do that?? what if i didn't catch you??

[killerlookz]

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x f! reader

[oukabarsburgblr]

Oils and Incense [Masseur AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) X male reader

Following your friend's suggestion, you went to a health & beauty spa, specifically for a massage and you're surprised to find a fellow student working there as a part-timer. What's that smell and why do you feel so hot? This was the wrong room? Your body won't be the only thing getting oiled up!

dubcon af, rough sex, aphrodisiac on both ends, shady reader(?), sousuke munching, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"All the rooms are full?"

The clerk standing at the register nodded with a polite smile on her face. (m/n) frowned, feeling the ache on his shoulder weighing on his figure.

It had been a harsh week for the (h/c), catching up on his assignments, managing his club activities and after sleeping on his desk for a week straight, his muscles were tense and in pain.

His friend, Daisuke, had suggested this place, a high-end beauty spa and of course it was expensive that motherfucker was loaded. But you decided to treat yourself, as a reward for getting through the semester and you drove over to the place after your classes.

Unfortunately for him, all the rooms are filled and busy.

"Well, we do have a private room available. Although it is usually booked in advance for regulars, I can make an exception for you." She winked at him, feeling sorry seeing the (h/c)'s tired expression. "I'll take it."

"And what kind of package would you like?"

(m/n) didn't bother reading the whole brochure, only skimming through the numbers. "Two hours, please."

The lady escorted her to the room, opening the door inside and (m/n) awed at the interior, fluffy flooring, multiple candles on mahogany cupboards with decorations to make the room more presentable with gold and green highlights with a warm lighting to compliment the whole design.

A massage table stood in the middle, layered with a white covered mattress and a hole for the face in the head area. "The rooms are designed for your privacy and comfort, thick walls and we provide a change of clothing afterwards. Your assigned masseur will be here soon." He thanked the lady and placed his bag on one of the lush seats.

(m/n) stood in the room idly, peering at the ceramic dishes and balls before hearing a conversation outside.

"Make sure you take the right incense and oils, okay. He's not one of the usual clientage." The woman from before seem to be speaking to someone. The masseur perhaps.

"Yeah yeah, I know." The voice replied with a drag, implying annoyance followed by a smack.

The door opened and (m/n) turned to see a familliar person, holding a basket of bottles and taper candles. Said person, with his long red hair in a claw clip with strands sticking to his forehead, froze seeing the (h/c). He had adorned the usual white piece, what masseurs would usually wear.

"You..." He seemed to be taken aback, although his face doesn't show much, (m/n) could definitely tell he knew him and vice versa as well. "...We go to the same university, right? Keio Shiki?' (m/n) broke the awkward silence with a nervous grin.

The redhead seemed to snap back out of his trance as he coughed into his fist and moved to one of the cupboards, setting up the session, placing the taper candles in its holders. "Yeah, we do." He replied dismissively.

"We shared a class once, too. Aito? Was that your name-?" "It's Sousuke. Just Sousuke." (m/n) tensed, nodding quickly as he rubbed his nape.

(m/n) had seen Sousuke around campus before, always alone and keeping to himself with his muted red hair that had always caught his attention. When they shared a class together, the (h/c) had attempted to converse with the redhead but was ignored or only received half-assed answers.

He only knew snippets about the redhead from his peers, who told him to stay away from the man, saying that he brought trouble everywhere he goes. However, (m/n) thought of otherwise.

"So you work here? I thought your dad runs a dōjō." It's not everyday you get to talk to the brooding guy in your prestige university, especially when he's supposed to service you. (e/c) eyes gazed at him with a smirk, teasing the redhead whose hazel ones squinted at him.

"...It's temporary. Until that old man gets off my back." He mumbled, lighting one of the candles with a long nozzle lighter, clicking it a few times. The (h/c)'s eyes still wandered, lingering on his muscular back the white uniform couldn't hide. "Do you remember me? You looked shocked when you first walked in here-"

(m/n)'s words were cut off as Sousuke promptly pressed a white fluffy cloth to his chest. "I do. (l/n)." The redhead emphasized, pushing the article on his chest with pressure. There's a hint of annoyance but (m/n) can see the tip of his ears turning red.

"You can call me (m/n)." His lips stretched a smile, cheekily looking up at the redhead through his lashes.

Sousuke stared for a second before turning away. "Change."

The (h/c) held the cloth Sousuke had given to him, it was literally just a white fabric meant to tie around his waist. "Just this-?" "Yes." Sousuke huffed as he turned back to the (h/c), his fingers snapping a pair of black latex gloves on his hands. "In other words, strip."

"Will do." (m/n) whistled, pulling his clothes off.

The redhead rolled his eyes, rummaging through the cupboards as the (h/c) had his fun teasing the former.

Sousuke did not expect the (h/c) as his customer for the evening. His father had sent him here for work since he had broken three sandbags at the dōjō, apparently his old man's friend owned the place and needed a pair of strong hands to cover a few shifts. Unluckily, Sousuke had been taking a degree in physical education so he was more or less qualified to work here.

However, the clerk suddenly called him on his break, saying that there was a fill-in in one of the private rooms, he was never allowed to step in there by the way, and the woman told him that there was someone looked like around his age while lecturing him about grabbing the right bottles or whatnot.

Sousuke had mindlessly grabbed the basket for the private rooms, there can't be much difference there can it? Probably just the brand itself or whatever.

Fuck, why is he here? Sousuke grumbled silently. He had known the (h/c), (m/n) (l/n) who had caught his eye ever since he walked on campus. His stupid cute smile, really nice build and those fucking thighs-

He snapped himself out of his thoughts hearing shuffles of clothing behind him as he lit the incense and waving the smoke around, letting it dissipate. Something smelled weird. He's dealt with incense before but this one smells more honey?

"I'm done."

The redhead had to stop himself from looking too much as he ushered the (h/c) to lay stomach down on the massage table.

(m/n) pouted, seeing the redhead was quick to place him down as he straddled the massage table, putting his head in its place and his face facing the floor through the hole.

Sousuke helped him place his legs on the rest of the table, his large gloved hands pulling his calves up before setting it down, avoiding looking at the (s/c) presented before him.

The (h/c) felt like he was purring in bliss. "It smells...sweet?" "It's the candle. Nothing much." Sousuke reassured (m/n) and himself, he had never used this specific candle before.

Taking a bowl of warm water, he placed three different sizes of ceramic balls or spheres, letting it sit in the liquid while the (h/c) attempted to start a conversation with him. "How've you've been? Anything interesting coming up?" "None of your concern." (m/n) scrunched his nose at the immediate rejection.

Was the room supposed to be this hot?

He felt warmer than usual, the blood rushing to the lower part of his body. (m/n) continued staring at the carpeted floor beneath him, talking to the redhead. "My team is having a practice match next week. With a university in the next town over."

Tilting the glass bottle, Sousuke dripped the oil in his gloved hands before rubbing them together, warming it up. "So?" "Will you come watch?" He huffed. "For what?"

"For me." There's a hint of flirt and Sousuke had to take a breather before nearing the laying (h/c), avoiding looking at his (s/c) legs. "I'll start now." "What-?"

(m/n) bit his tongue to prevent a moan from escaping his lips when warm gloved hands pressed on in between his shoulders. Fingers moving around, testing the waters as Sousuke gently spread the oil on his back like slicing butter on a piece of bread.

When the redhead felt the skin beneath him less tense, he slowly pressed his fingers deeper, kneading the muscle beneath him, rubbing his thumb in the notches and crooks of his shoulder blades.

Then he moved upwards, trailing his hand and poured more oil directly on (m/n)'s shoulders, letting it stain the cushioned table and he dipped his fingers in the skin between his neck and his shoulder, inching closer to his chest as he massaged his clavicle.

Sousuke was wondering why was the chatterbox underneath him was quiet. Usually customers would let out a satisfied groan every now and then. Maybe it was better for the redhead himself, not having to answer to the (h/c)'s incessant questions.

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding down the tip of his nose. (m/n) was holding in his breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when Sousuke's fingers massaged his nape, pressing his knuckles on the base of his neck, letting the pressure subside when he reached his hairline.

He had been holding in gasps and groans from his throat, feeling so pleasured with the service he's receiving. He felt more fired up than usual. (m/n) almost released a whine when Sousuke pulled his hands away, walking over to the front of him, where the bowl of water was and (m/n) stared at his legs, licking his lips.

"...Everything okay down there?"

Yeah I want you down here- "All's good." (m/n) felt his cheeks flushed, trying to focus back but his mind was foggy, all fuzzy and warm, he couldn't keep his head straight only thinking about those nice thick gloved fingers touching his skin.

Sousuke carefully picked up the smallest ball, placing it in the middle of (m/n)'s back, the latter letting out a noise of confusion. "It's a new thing they brought in. Constant pressure isn't good but the warmth helps and we've been receiving positive feedback..." The redhead muttered, stabilizing the sphere.

"Is it okay for you?"

(m/n) nodded drowsily. "Yeah, yeah. Anything's good from you." Sousuke's mouth gaped from the comment before looking away, grabbing the second ball while ignoring the butterflies raging wildly in his stomach.

"Don't move." He mumbled, balancing the second ball on his upper shoulders, near his nape. He rolled it around, using it as a tool before letting it rest on (m/n)'s body. Sousuke was unaware of the drooling (h/c) who was resisting the urge to utter the most sinful things human beings have ever heard.

The redhead paused, his steps stopping as he gazed at the taper candle, his eyes brimming suspicion before (m/n)'s voice brought him back to reality.

"Hurry up." He whined. Sousuke gritted his teeth, his cheeks warming at the cute noise the other had mewled out. "Be patient." (m/n) grinned. "Don't think you're supposed to talk back to your customers."

He heard the redhead sighed, his legs coming into his line of sight and Sousuke's face suddenly appeared close to his. "And I don't think you should be acting like a brat but here we are. Be quiet...and let me do my job." Hazel eyes stared up at him, his position crouching on the floor near the massage table.

(m/n) was silent, taken aback by the sudden proximity of his handsome face. He definitely got hard. "... Yes, sir." Sousuke groaned in annoyance, immediately standing back up, secretly adjusting his pants.

Immediately, he retrieved the third sphere, letting them all line up on (m/n)'s lower back, the latter letting out a guttural groan at the pressure. Hazel eyes leered at the (s/c) legs on display, sighing lowly as he poured another batch of oil on his gloved hands.

Steadily, he placed his hands on the (h/c)'s thighs, near the cloth and he dragged his palms down, pulling the muscle and knots all the way down to the ankle. Heat was looming all around his crotch as he massaged (m/n)'s foot, rubbing his fingers in between the appendages.

"You're like...mmn- really good at this."

Sousuke heard the drowsy comment from the mouth at the other end. "I work here. It's my job." "Wasn't it temporary?" "As I've told." "Wish it wasn't. I'd come for you everyday."

(m/n) was slurring his words, his cheeks flushed, his dick hard and sweat was dripping from his face to his nose. Fingers massaging him all over, caressing his thigh, pushing his skin and god he wished those fingers were in him.

Just fuck me- The (h/c) grinned to himself, not noticing the reddened masseur who pulled away, grabbing the spheres as well, eager to end the session already.

"Sit up. We'll work on your front next." "...My front?" "Yes. Is there a problem?" Sousuke went to grab a pillow to fill the hole in the head area so (m/n) could lie down on it but when he turned around, the (h/c) was on his side, his face looked embarrassed and he looked away when Sousuke's eyes travelled down to (m/n)'s crotch.

"...It's normal." The (h/c) frowned, mad that Sousuke isn't getting the hint. What the hell? Is it normal for customers to get hard after you massage them or what? (e/c) eyes glared at Sousuke, who was panicking in his head.

"And if I say it's intentional?" "I won't believe you."

He couldn't deny his slight attraction to the (h/c) and what the fuck why does he feel so hot right now? Sousuke staggered when the loop of his pants was tugged.

"Is it normal for you to get hard too?" (m/n) whispered into his ear, huffing his warm breath into the shell of Sousuke's ears that flushed at the contact.

The redhead looked down and he was indeed hard. Had he not noticed the whole time? Sousuke pulled away, facing the cheeky (h/c) who was kneeling on the table, the cloth around his waist barely hiding his erection and an amused expression on his face.

"Stop that." "You don't hate me." "I can." "I don't think you will."

What? Sousuke pressed his lips into a thin line, his head dizzy. (m/n) was so lax around him, closing the gap he had with others, toying with his boundaries like he was edging the redhead, wanting to draw a reaction out of him.

It's the same when they had first met too, when they shared a class. To (m/n), it was normal but to Sousuke, it was thrilling and confusing.

He was melting under the (h/c)'s gaze, his lips quivering and he felt his eyes water. "Are you flirting with me?" (m/n) purred. "Maybe." He winked and held out his hand.

The redhead swatted it away. He can feel his sweat building up on the collar of his uniform. (m/n) looked like a meal in front of him but he couldn't, his heart conflicted.

"Don't...play about these things. Don't toy with me." Sousuke stated, him placing down the pillow, covering the hole in the massage table, (e/c) eyes following him. "....I'm not."

Sousuke clenched his jaw, his neck tense as he felt fingers inching on his nape, tugging his claw clip. He yelped, his hair now loose, red strands laying on his back as the redhead glared at the (h/c).

(m/n) clipped the hair accessory onto his own tresses. "You should kick me out. I'm harassing you and all, aren't I?" The redhead stared at the now sitting (h/c) who swung his feet back and forth. He glanced at his hair clip on the (h/c)'s head.

"I ought to." "...You're hot, Sousuke." A cough escaped his lips, exasperated at the sudden confession. The redhead scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. (m/n) gleamed at him, glancing at the taper candles behind him.

"If you wanted to have sex with me, all you had to do was ask." "What?"

"You think I don't see that?" (m/n) jutted his chin to the candle holder behind Sousuke, the one he had lit up earlier. "Lucky Clover. Common choice but it does its job."

Sousuke snatched the candle out of the holder, blowing out the flame, his eyes scanning the brand name edged on the side of the candle. He had grabbed the wrong basket. "I didn-"

"Haa...now I'm all hot and bothered. It's not fair you're not as affected as I am." "I took the wrong candle. I didn't mean to-" "Whatever was your intention, it doesn't matter." (m/n) rested his chin on his palm, his body was coated with sweat, his back smooth with the oils Sousuke had rubbed in earlier.

"I have at least an hour and a half left. Now come here and do your job, masseur."

Something snapped inside the redhead at that moment, something raw and viscous. His feet slowly moved to the (h/c), settling behind him and grabbing a bottle of oil.

Sousuke should have never denied the attraction he had for the (h/c). His words that jumbled his thoughts, his eyes that made his legs quiver, his tongue that flicked against his teeth that made the redhead desire to grab his neck so he can-

(m/n) leaned his back against Sousuke's chest with a satisfied sigh, smudging the redhead's white uniform. Biting his lower lip, he grinned while staring at across the room. Sousuke was something (m/n) had wanted to solve, it wasn't a priority, but with the massages and the oils, it was like a candlelit dinner for him.

The claw clip was pulled from his hair, Sousuke swiping (m/n)'s hair back and clipped it in properly, (m/n) rubbed his cheek on the redhead's hand, the latter not responding and the (h/c) heard him picking up a glass bottle.

Slippery liquid trickled down his chest, Sousuke tilting the whole bottle on (m/n)'s torso letting it trickle down onto the (h/c)'s crotch. He placed the bottle aside, cracking his fingers. The redhead placed his arms underneath (m/n)'s own, looming his hands over his body before placing it flat against the (h/c)'s chest.

(m/n) gasped when Sousuke cupped his pecs, rubbing his nipples in between his fingers. "Mmnn!" He mewled as the redhead continued his work, massaging his man tit, rubbing his hands up and down as (m/n) gripped Sousuke's arms.

He squirmed when Sousuke's movements became rougher, squeezing his chest and essentially groping him. The redhead's right hand trailed down and rubbed the oil all over his stomach, kneading it into his side.

(m/n) was wrong when he had stated that the redhead was not affected as he is. The redhead had only not noticed. His will is strong, not something that is easily swayed by a mere candle.

Sousuke had bear flirts, jabs, and allure from the (h/c). He's a man. He has sensual passion. Although the redhead simply locked his aptitude to bite back deep inside himself. However, (m/n) was brave. Almost like he was aware Sousuke would let him trample all over him.

Hovering his tongue over the (h/c)'s shoulder, he licked a stripe experimentally. (m/n) flinched, his head turning to the side, looking with his glossy (e/c) eyes. He was panting disheveledly, Sousuke's hand still playing with his chest, gripping the fat and pinching his nipple.

The redhead leaned in closer, his face close with (m/n)'s and their breaths mixed. (m/n) was staring at the masseur's mouth, gazing over his lips and the redhead was looking for any sign of desire in his eyes until (e/c) met hazel.

There was only pure unholy lust. Sousuke pushed his mouth towards (m/n)'s awaiting lips. The latter moaning as they mushed their tongues together, exchanging drool and (m/n) was so excited as he sucked on the redhead's muscly organ.

"Aanh haa ah ah!"

Sousuke's right hand went lower, cupping (m/n)'s erection as he squeezed it lightly. The (h/c) bit his lower lip in response, the redhead gasping as (m/n) stuck his tongue inside Sousuke's mouth.

Tearing the fabric at (m/n)'s waist off, Sousuke grabbed (m/n)'s cock, pumping it up and down, earning whines from the (h/c). It was so slippery, so easy to move with the oil coating (m/n)'s skin and Sousuke gave no mercy to the (h/c) whose hips started to stutter in his hold.

(m/n) bucked his hips, loving the attention his cock was receiving as he pulled away from the makeout session. "I-I'm close- nggh ahh ang ahh!"

Ropes of cum spurted from his tip as Sousuke gripped his base, dragging out (m/n)'s orgasm. His hazel eyes had a fire in them, one (m/n) had ever since Sousuke laid his hands on him.

Drool seeped from his lips, (m/n) was in a daze as Sousuke laid his body on the massage table, letting him lie stomach down. He shivered when he felt the redhead pour more oil on his bottom, the liquid dripping on his ass, seeping and touching his twitching hole.

"You wanted this." Sousuke grunted, pulling off of his sticky uniform, revealing his sexy sweaty torso. His hand rubbed one of the (h/c)'s asscheeks before bringing it up and slapping it. The (h/c) yelped at the contact and Sousuke spanked him again, rubbing the oil on the cheek before swinging his gloved hand back down.

"Ah! F-Fucking- ah!" (m/n) screamed, feeling his cock twitch every time Sousuke smacked his ass. His hips stuttered he felt the redhead gripped and spread his ass, revealing his perky hole, Sousuke dipping his covered thumb in experimentally and scratched his rim.

Whining endlessly, (m/n) flinched as Sousuke spat on his hole, feeling the cold liquid trickle down. The redhead pulled his hips up, (m/n) hugging the pillow for stability, his nails digging into the fabric and pushing his face into the pillow.

Sousuke laid his tongue flat against (m/n)'s balls, licking up until he reached the wet entrance and he pushed a finger in, hearing a squeal from the (h/c). Digging inside, he shoved another gloved finger in to spread the hole with a scissoring motion. The (h/c) could only emit muffled cries, staining the pillow with his saliva.

The redhead licked his hole, a flinch from (m/n), and he pushed his tongue inside, brushing his fangs against (m/n)'s rim. He kissed, licked and spat on the twitching entrance, taking his time and ignoring the begging (h/c).

"P-Please- mmn ahh! I-I'm sorry- ungg mmn!"

Sousuke didn't want an apology from the (h/c). All he cared about was the ass in his hand he was eating right now. The redhead sucked on (m/n)'s balls while pistoning his fingers in and out of the (h/c)'s puckered hole.

He stopped when a hand grabbed his arm, Sousuke glaring down at the crying (h/c) whose back was facing him. "T-Too much. I'm s-sorry- mmn!" (m/n) cried, his tears and drool wetting the pillow under him.

"...Then what do you want?" Sousuke asked nonchalantly as he released (m/n)'s hips, letting him drop onto the table. (m/n)'s lower half was trembling.

"I w-wanna suck you off..." "Is this your apology?" (m/n) shook his head. "I want your c-cock in my throat." He mumbled.

Sousuke stared at him, (m/n) tried to calm down his nerves but his entire body was so hot, the oil covering almost every inch of his skin. "Get on the floor." He heard the redhead ordered.

Shakily, (m/n) pushed himself off of the table, landing on the floor on his knees with a pitiful whine. He turned to the unimpressed redhead who stood, his back leaning against the massage table, his flowing red hair framing his gorgeous face.

"I don't understand you, (m/n)." Sousuke mumbled, grabbing his jaw when the (h/c) inched closer to his crotch while on his knees, his (s/c) glistening under the warm spotlight.

Caressing the (h/c)'s inner thigh with his shoe, Sousuke gazed at his dripping dick, raising his line of sight to (m/n)'s panting flushed face. "You don't have to..." The (h/c) closed his eyes, enduring the tightening still gloved grip Sousuke had on his face.

"You're so...confusing. Pushing my buttons, testing my limits. I'm a man, (l/n)." (m/n) nodded drunkenly. "Handsome man..." He slurred and Sousuke rolled his eyes at that and extended his hand into (m/n)'s face who pulled off the drenched latex gloves with his teeth.

"I can't believe you're into this shit." The redhead raised his bare hand, slapping (m/n)'s face, not too hard but enough to leave a red mark. "You like this? You like getting slapped?"

Sousuke smacked the (h/c) again, who only cried out wantonly, his body leaning closer to the redhead's. "Does your friend know? That you're a fucking freak." (m/n) shook his head, tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be special then?" (m/n) couldn't even talk properly, getting slapped for the third time. He only slobbered, his eyes peering up at Sousuke's hazel ones. "I-It hurts..." He whined.

The redhead released his tight hold, carressing (m/n)'s cheek. "Went too far, huh? Least' I know your limit now." He gently stroked the (h/c)'s reddened cheek fondly, as if its a way for him to say sorry. (m/n) purring into his touch.

Extending his hand, (m/n) tugged Sousuke's pants, sticking his tongue out eager to suck his cock. The redhead scoffed, his face expressing amusement. "You're cute, y'know?" The (h/c) pawed at the redhead's zipper, pulling it down and shuffling his pants off.

Sousuke pushed his briefs down, his hardened cock springing out and (m/n)'s eyes brightened, his tongue drooling and he whined even more, leaning closer into the redhead. Sousuke cooed, running his fingers through the (h/c)'s hair and he pulled the hair clip off, placing it on his own head.

(m/n) placed his tongue under Sousuke's tip, sliding it gently as he licked the base, caressing the veins. The redhead groaned, bucking his hips and accidentally gripped the (h/c)'s hair. Moving his head forward, the (h/c) took the long cock in his mouth, slobbering his spit all over the shaft.

It was a wonder how their dynamic switched. When (m/n) had first walked in, he was so adamant at poking at the redhead, now he was the one on his knees, sucking Sousuke's cock so desperately.

His cheeks hollowed as he hummed, (m/n)'s palate being grazed and the tip touching the back of his throat. He choked and coughed, Sousuke wanting to pull back but (m/n) grabbed his hips and shoved his own face into the redhead's crotch, his chin touching his balls.

"Anngg- mmff!" Sousuke held onto the table, his fingers clenching on the cushion as he closed his eyes, hot pleasure focusing on his dick and the (h/c). Cum shot from his tip and he was ready to pull out but (m/n)'s nails dug into his hips as he hissed in pain. Sousuke pulled his other glove off with his fangs.

The (h/c) sucked everything he could muster out of the redhead, letting the semen pool on his tongue as he shakily stood up and grabbed Sousuke's face, pushing his tongue in so the redhead could have a taste of himself.

Sousuke choked and gagged as the (h/c) shoved his tongue into his mouth as they stumbled, the redhead's arms around (m/n)'s waist and the latter around his neck. They planted themselves back onto the massage table, (m/n)'s back lying on the stained cushion and he spread his legs.

"Put it in." He breathed out, staring at hazel eyes who gazed back at (e/c), their sweaty foreheads touching each other. Sousuke took a breather and he adjusted himself, pumping his cock and lining it up against (m/n)'s hole.

"Just a second." The redhead spoke, he leaned forward, (m/n) stupidly clinging onto his body and rubbing his cheek against his face as Sousuke grabbed a decanter, biting the cork off and spitting it on the floor. The (h/c) rubbed his dick against the redhead's abs, letting his precum smear all over the rockhard muscles.

Sousuke pushed (m/n) to make room, tilting the decanter and pouring oil onto the (h/c)'s thighs, the liquid dripping down onto his ass and the redhead used his fingers to push it into (m/n)'s throbbing hole.

He also spilled the oil onto his own body, letting it drip from his chest and onto his dick, (m/n) now thrusting his hips to get the redhead's attention. "I know, I know." He mumbled, brushing his lips over (m/n)'s forehead.

Carefully, he held the (h/c)'s waist, adjusting both of them and he pushed in, the slippery oil letting him thrust all of his cock in one go. (m/n) let out a satisfied mewl, his thighs shaking as Sousuke pulled his cock out until only the tip nestled inside the twitching anus.

"Aannh ann ah ah ha ahh!" (m/n) wailed as the redhead began to pound himself with wet sloppy noises emitting around the room. Their squelching was so loud, the oil making their skin soft and wet as it smacked together.

Sousuke licked the (h/c)'s ear, his fangs biting the shell as the (h/c) spread his legs even wider, letting his ankles dangle in the air and the redhead slapped his inner thigh. "God you should've came here earlier." Sousuke groaned into (m/n)'s ear who nodded ferverently.

"Fuck fuck fuck." The (h/c) cussed with a moan , every time the redhead's cock kissed his prostate, his shaft dragging against his walls. Sousuke poured more oil on his base, as he pushed (m/n) down on the table, humping and fucking his meaty cock into his drenched ass.

The candle's waft still lingered in the air, although not as intense as earlier but (m/n) wished that it would last longer. His untouched cock was flicked by the redhead's fingers and (m/n) came, cum shooting out of his stimulated penis and it landed on both of their chests.

Sousuke wanted to kiss the (h/c), however he opted to graze his neck and sucked on the skin there instead, leaving hickies and marks. His hips stuttered as he shallowly thrusted into (m/n)'s bottom, his orgasm arriving and reaching its peak and (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead, forcing him to still and cum inside his ass, filling his hole with his white batter.

(m/n) pulled Sousuke by his hair away from his neck and crashed his lips onto his and their teeths clashed. There were biting and saliva dripping from their chins, the (h/c) pushing his hips, indicating his want for a second round.

Sousuke climbed onto the massage table, asking (m/n) to kneel like him and he positioned himself behind the (h/c). He rammed himself inside (m/n) who arched his back and started to bounce himself on Sousuke's lap in time with his thrusts.

The redhead hands sneakily cupped (m/n)'s chest, groping his pecs and rubbing the skin. (m/n) whimpered when Sousuke scratched his nipple with his nails, pinching and twisting it as he continued slamming himself in and out the (h/c)'s throbbing hole, his previous cum spilling and dripping out of (m/n)'s rim.

(m/n) turned his face to the side, his (e/c) eyes begging Sousuke for a kiss as he stuck his tongue out. The redhead obliged licking (m/n)'s lips and kissing him again, them sloppily making out for the nth time already. The table shook with each thrust, shockingly still able to support the two.

Sousuke came inside the (h/c) again while (m/n) was pushing his ass back desperately for his own orgasm, the redhead gritting his teeth as (m/n) prolonged his climax by using his cock like a joystick.

Both of them lost any sense they had as they succumbed to their arousal, having sex on the table as much as they could. (m/n) was having the time of his life getting slapped, used like a fleshlight, begging Sousuke to fold him into many position and the redhead indulged in his cries, pushing him up against the cupboard, forcing him to ride his cock and they only stopped when the clerk had came back, knocking on the door while Sousuke was pushing (m/n) into a mating press.

"Is everything alright in there? Aito, the session is supposed to be over."

The redhead grunted out a half-assed response as he covered (m/n)'s mouth and quickly fucked himself inside the (h/c) making them both cum. (m/n)'s body was sweaty and slippery, his skin covered in oils and bite marks, his neck filled with hickies and his ass was dripping spit and cum.

Sousuke pulled the (h/c), pushing him and himself into the small shower station they had and quickly washed themselves clean, (m/n) begging the redhead for one last round and he unceremoniously followed through, making the (h/c) cum on his cock under the pouring shower head.

The redhead forced (m/n) to help him clean, changing the cushions, wiping the floor, throwing away the candle tapers so the clerk won't lecture him for using the wrong ones. Sousuke checked everything, making sure he didn't leave any evidence behind as he changed the drowsy (h/c) into a simple clothing the spa provided for customers.

He packed (m/n)'s clothes and his dirty uniform into a paper bag, clocking himself out of his shift as he left the spa hurriedly with the (h/c) hugging him fondly. Sousuke made sure to drive (m/n) back to his dorm with the latter's car, not trusting him to arrive safely as the (h/c) immediately passed out in the passenger's seat.

-

"(m/n), someone's looking for you." His classmate called him, the (h/c) lifting his head from the table he was sitting in. The class had just ended and (m/n) wanted to stay behind to finish his notes before his classmate yelled for him.

It had been three days since the whole massage thing and he couldn't find the redhead, not even at the spa. Hilarious to think that (m/n) actually went back searching for him but the clerk informed him that Sousuke asked for a few days off, him claiming that he had exams to study for and the (h/c) frowned, knowing that the redhead was avoiding him.

Understandably he was taken aback when he was met with the sight of the abashed redhead, who was standing with his hair still clipped in that purple accessory, his shoulder bag on his side.

"I thought we should go on a date. After that whole y'know." Sousuke handed him a singular sunflower, its stem jagged and (m/n) could tell that he didn't bought this at the florist.

(m/n) caressed the petals as he laughed. "Now which poor gardener did you stole from?" The redhead jabbed his finger behind him, the window showing the university's prestige courtyard with many beautiful flowers blooming, people won't notice one going missing.

"How sweet." The (h/c) smiled and Sousuke looked away, his ears reddened. "Let me grab my bag first. Where are we going?" "Eat. You need some meat if you want to win that practice match."

(m/n)'s heart fluttered, Sousuke remembered the practice match he had mentioned and he took it as a sign of him attending it for him as he hurriedly retrieve his books, shoving it in his bag as he skipped to the redhead.

"Told you I wasn't toying with you." The (h/c) teased Sousuke as he hugged his bicep. The redhead only rolled his eyes, letting (m/n) hang off of his arm as they walked through the hallway, earning weird looks from the rest of the students.

"The sunflower reminds me of you." Sousuke quirked an eyebrow, he had only chose said flower because it was the biggest one in the flower patch. "A flower?" "The sun." The redhead was silent, not understanding what he meant but shrugged. He'll let his potential boyfriend run his mind in weird places.

"Say...do you have it?" "Have what?" (e/c) gleamed up at the redhead. A knowing grin on (m/n)'s face as Sousuke slightly opened his shoulder bag, letting (m/n) peek inside.

The same candle taper, a new one, Sousuke had grabbed some from the spa. He'll cover a shift or two later and (m/n) kissed his cheek, the latter flinched and blushed heavily.

"Can't wait." The (h/c) was now pushing the redhead, eager to start and finish their lunch date so he could make room for their raunchy dinner that would last from the early evening to the dead of night.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

profile

I had debated the plot for this au but i didnt want it to be some random drugged bunny fuck so theres the convo, the trifling comm, and the buildup there. Everything is better w feelings involved and its good if its one that makes u think, its what gives character

I wished this fic was what debuted sousuke on my page argh. this might be my proudest work yet. When i meant rough I meant ROUGH

This will probably be my last one before i disappear for a couple of weeks. I'll reply to stuff but to post nahhh new sem starts soon so imma be super bz.

Haha i got happy cuz ppl commented on my last post so i shat this one out as quickly as i could.

comment lots and ill post lots mkay🍖

more of aito sousuke! 𖤓

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader smut #oukabarsburg #aito sousuke #oc x male reader #oc #oc x reader smut #oc smut #oc x reader #Spotify #rough smut

[acotarxreader]

Shadow and Flame pt 2

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of burns

A/N: thank you for making me feel so welcomed into this realm of fanfiction. Requests are also open. I'm writing part 3 as we speak.

Part One

--------------------------

A month had passed since that encounter, wreaking havoc on Azriels mind. Feyre redrew you once Lucien bolted away, the drawing now rarely separated from Azriels pocket. Lucien had dodged the Inner Circle for the majority of the month, only giving audiences to the High Lord and Lady in strict confidence and on the condition that they wouldn't mention his outburst.

Lucien left such a meeting in River House late one evening, balancing a tall stack of notes as he strode down the pathway. A scarred hand met the side of the papers dead on, sending them fluttering all over the garden.

“Azriel! For fuck sake, uncalled for!” Lucien stooped to gather the papers that laid in arms reach, Azriels boot landing square on top of a stack. 

“Who is she Lucien?”

“I don't know what you're talking about” he batted the boot back, gathering what he could and snapping a finger at the rest, all of them stacking themselves neatly at his feet again.

“Yes you do” Azriel seethed, kicking the stacked papers back again.

“Seriously Azriel, these are confidential!”

“Just like that female it would seem” Lucien sighed in reply to him

“I just…it's just not important who she is, trust m-” Azriels loud clear laugh cut across him. 

“Lucien please don't make such ridiculous statements, I have no trust in you” Azriels tone switched almost eerily to cold again. Lucien thought to himself that statement was precisely why he wouldn't tell him who you were. They had no trust. 

“You do not want to spend time on this female, she will never be yours or anyone's, I -”

“Ah so a failed courting with another Fae is the source of your silence?” Lucien glared at Azriel as if to explode his mind with his one russet eye. 

“Rich coming from you Shadowsinger” Azriel couldn't help himself, he shoved Lucien back where he stood for his comments before catching hold of his jacket and hauling him forward to him again. 

“Who is she?” He gritted out between his teeth.

“She's not Elain and that's what still matters to you deep down” Azriel dropped Lucien's collar in almost shock at his boldness, a smugness grew across Lucien's face. 

“Now if you'll excuse me Shadowsinger, I have to pay someone a visit” he snapped his fingers once again, the papers folding in on one another into a neat cube, easily fit inside his jacket pocket.

“So not only do you know who she is, you know where she is” heat radiated from Azriel.

“Information for those who trust me it seems” Lucien left with a wide grin, enjoying the upper hand on the Illyrian, winnowing out before he could be caught again by him. 

***************

You lounged across the deep amber sofa of your study, a book of maps weighing heavy on your lap. Your eyes landed on a blank northern territory you knew to be Valeris, a small smile growing on your face as you traced it with your finger. 

“Y/N!” Your body almost vibrated as Luciens voice echoed through the door. You were mentally cursing yourself as you rushed to tidy your books.

“Yes Luc” you batted your eyelashes at him after opening the door of the study allowing him in.

“Don't Luc me! Care to tell me where you've been?” he slammed the door behind him.

“I don't care to tell you that at all” you slowly sank back into the sofa, his russet eye cutting into you. 

“Y/N, I know where you've been and that you were seen”

“A minor inconvenience” 

“The Shadowsinger is not a minor inconvenience, he's infatuated with you”

“He is?” You feigned school girl excitement at the idea of it even though deep down you didn't believe all of the acting was fake. Lucien paced in front of you almost frantically.

“Luc, you worry yourself grey, I have no intention of being seen again”

“Good, I forbid it”

“You forbid it?” You raised an eyebrow, a hand going to your hip as you stood again.

“Yes, you are not to go to Velaris, you are not to be around the Night Court or its members and you are to stay here in Autumn where you don't cause me headaches” he dug deep into his temple trying to calm his energy back to earth. 

“Careful, you're beginning to sound like Father” he huffed out at this, throwing himself down on the sofa, eyes landing on the vast maps before him. Stars littered across the topography, all indications of where you had visited. He buried the sad smile growing on his face, the places you had gone that you never thought you'd see, the freedom his sacrifices had afforded you. 

“And hide these, Father will have you married off to the next fool he sees if he sees these travels” you scoffed, rolling the map up and sending it away in controlled flames. 

“He'll have me married off soon regardless of these, I might as well get it over with now”

“Nonsense YN, he is preoccupied with our wonderful siblings coming for his throat. I will keep you from that as long as I can” your face softened, you knew he didn't believe his own words so how could you. 

The only daughter of the Court of Autumn, a hushed away kept secret to everyone but those who lived and worked in the manor, a pawn for later use. A secret weapon as your father referred to you. 

“Eris will free me when he is High Lord, he has sworn, he is just waiting for the correct moment he tells me….as I rot here” you sighed, moving to the window of the study, the colours of Autumn painting the scene in front of you. 

“I will be the one to save you-”

“YOU HAVE LEFT ME! TWICE! I do not trust your words, they only have sway in your precious Spring and Night Court” you whipped around to your brother, closing the distance once again as he stood in reaction, your small flames dancing around your feet ready to bite. 

“YN-”

“No, go now, run along to your freedom while I steal away moments in flame. You've issued your ultimatum, run along Emissary” you said it like the swear it was to you. Enough you had had enough, vanishing into flame leaving your brother to his own thoughts once again. 

*****

Azriel sat atop a mountain's rocky ground, looking down at Valeris, taking a deep drink from his canteen, instantly refilling itself again with cold water. His eyes sinking in on themselves, world-weary from his hunt for you. He expanded past Valeris and deep into the Night Court and beyond with no avail. He had begun to believe it was all an illusion. The chill of the growing night encapsulated him as he struck a match off the bottom of his shoe and threw it into some dried wood of a long forgotten fire pit. He had come here so often before with his brother's before their mates entered the scene. Night after night under the stars talking and fighting and messing around, a time lost to his youth now. A chill ran through his wings as he turned his back to the fire, splaying them to bask in the heat as he deeply exhaled releasing weeks of stress from his lungs. 

“Nice wings bat boy” Azriel leapt up to his feet with eye watering speed, his wings once again safely tucked in as he span in warrior stance to the voice behind him. You put your hands up in truce giving a small laugh at the sight of him, trying to not let your breath hitch at the pure beauty of him in flame light. 

“You”

“Me” you smiled at his wide eyes. 

“How did you get here, why are you here?” 

“Always the questions with you Shadowsinger, I heard you're infatuated with me, wanted to make your evening and as for how I got here, I don't feel like divulging that just yet to you” you smiled. His eyes fixated on you, as if afraid to blink because you'd disappear. You didn't know this is where you would land when you jumped into flame earlier. You just wanted somewhere safe. Your brother's words had sent your blood boiling. 

You stalked around the fire pit, watching the flames leap up to meet your ankles, wishing to feel at home with you as you gave an empathetic smile to them. You kicked in some more kindling gently and it burst as if in thanks to you. 

“I am not infatuated with you” Azriel spoke slowly and unsure of himself, a strange feeling for him. He watched you move back again from the fire pit as if to turn and go again.

“Okay then maybe Ill just g-”

“No!” He cut across too eager and mentally cursed himself out for showing his cards. You gave a small laugh to him, your eyes dipping to the fire and back to find him gone from the spot.

“You're not the only one that can move with ease” he came suddenly next to you with a grin, startling you slightly. 

“Ah yes your famous moves, known all over” your heart fluttered slightly at his close proximity, widening his grin. Maybe this was a mistake, ever so slight panic rising in you.

“Don't go, you have that look in your eye again” his words caught you off guard, was he in your head? You didn't think that a power he possessed. 

“I go where I please” 

“So it seems” his face glowed in the flame, almost beckoning you in closer to him. Mere inches from touching, Azriels skin felt alight with fire. Who were you? Why wouldn't you tell him? 

“Tell me your name” 

“I already told that I'd have to kill you then”

“Then so be it” his scared hand caught hold of your wrist, sending alarm bells through you mind. Go go go they screamed. You glanced quickly at the flame, Azriel again seemingly reading your mind, mapping your movement. He grabbed the canteen on his hip and doused the fire out, it's hissing like screaming in your ears. You jolted back from him in almost anger. You were trapped on this mountain with the infamous Shadowsinger, revered for his ruthlessness and yet you felt as though he wouldn't hurt you as you were both plunged into darkness of the woods.

“Now, tell me your name and I'll relight it” 

“Fine, I'm tiring of this game, it's Y-”

“YN!!!” Your head whipped around in the direction of pure male rage coming from the woods behind you. Any and all ounce of ease drained along with the colour in your face. You looked at the doused fire for any semblance of remaining flame to find it snuffed out. Azriel couldn't hide his alarm and disgust at the way the male said such a beautiful name in such a disgusting way.

“Go Azriel quick!”

“No!” You shoved him back at his protest, the shouting males voice growing in volume at the closing in proximity.

“Who is that!?” He watched the fear in your copper eyes come to life before you reached for his hand, pulling him down deep into the woods. He dug his heels deep into the softened moss stopping you dead in your tracks.

“I do not run from confrontation Y….YN” you loved the way your name sounded from him, soft and delicate, almost loved, almost giving new meaning to your name. 

“Please Azriel, he'll kill me if he finds me here, especially with you” 

“No one will harm you while you're with me-”

“It's when I'm not with you that he'll hurt me” you couldnt hide the tremble in your voice, Azriels eyes softened, the shouting of your name echoing through the woods filling the space. 

“Come with me” Lucien winnowed from seemingly nowhere alongside the two of you giving you both a fright, annoyance and haste written across his face. You instinctively dropped Azriels hand, he instantly missed you there, he replaced your hand with Truth Teller, angled at Lucien.

“She goes no where without me” he bit.

“We don't have time for this Azriel. Come YN, I felt your terror-”

“How?” Azriel cut across him, fears raising, had they a bond? Had Lucien two mates he thought. The thought sent his anger building.

Fire flowed through the trees, burning through a patch towards the three of you. You felt ill at the sight of your Father's flames. 

“Meet me at the townhouse Azriel, we can discuss this little rendezvous there, she comes with me” his harsh tone cut into Azriel before Lucien caught you roughly and tried to winnow away. 

“Azriel, go, I'll be okay with Lucien” Azriel hated the sight, the feelings of uselessness but your tone of self assuredness gave him some comfort.

“Fine but she ends up hurt Emissary and you'll never feel more regret in your life” he bit, dissolving into shadow. 

“Lucien, we have to split up. You know he'll be harder on me if youre with me, go!” You shoved him and to your surprise he listened, winnowing out as your father approached. He left you again, he would always leave you. 

An idea coming to you at the sight of your father's flames finally catching up to you. You dived. Dived into the crucifying pain of this flame, your portal out. Normally comfort was found by you in fire but not this flame, it split through you, trying to strangle you as you made your way through its thick thorn like tendrils. 

You didn't know where it was bringing you, pulling against it to not go where it wanted you. This fire was not your friend, this fire was there to smother you. You needed out. Out. Out. You reached through its molasses like texture for any way but the way it tried to drag you.

Your body landed with a thud on the steps alongside the lanterns that lit the garden path. Your flesh cracked and split along every inch. You were seized with pain, no idea if you had avoided risk or fallen into somewhere worse. A blood curdling screech made its way through your damaged ears. Elain screamed blue murder from the mouth of the garden, dropping her water can to splash everywhere, it's soothing waters not quite making it to you. You only remember the feeling of soothing scarred frantic hands reaching for you. Then darkness. 

-----------------------

Let me know what you think :D

Part 3

Tag: @sunshineangel-reads @skylarkalchemist @tele86

#azriel acotar #acowar #acomaf #acosf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x oc #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #azrielxreader #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #angst #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #acotar fic

[konigsblog]

I feel like Price would use rape as a means of interrogation, it's extremely painful and humiliating, the threat of it alone can make some people spill their secrets.

Would be pretty bad if readers innocent tho, no enemy secrets to share, nothing to bargain with, not even knowing what price thinks they've done. Just no way to stop it, reader would just have to wait for price to be done , and who knows how long that would take

tw; rape, interrogation, false accusations, dark fiction. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT · MDNI 18+

john price doesn't give you any hint to what answers he's looking for.

you're left trembling, your limbs tied with rope to a metal chair inside the cold, terrifying interrogation room. it doesn't matter how many times you scream and shout that you're innocent, that he has the wrong person, price doesn't listen, believing you're just lying, attempting to get yourself out of this mess.

you could take the beatings, the slaps and the punches that left your nose bloody with crimson and your bottom lip split, but the sickening and horrifying threats of rape sent shivers down your spine. you pleaded desperately with john, begging him for any hints for what answers he was looking for. although your attempts at bargaining were fruitless, he didn't listen to your piteous and feared cries and took your denial as ‘disobedience’.

your breathing became quick and laborious at the threats, threatening to rape your poor throat and your body ‘til you're limp and bloody, perhaps even lifeless if you still didn't cooperate with him. you were almost frozen in place when he began to unfasten his leather belt. you shuddered and sobbed out through horror and terror, attempting to squirm away to no avail, his calloused and grimey hands gripping your head.

his attempts at intimidating you were working, but you didn't have any valuable information to offer him. you were completely innocent, you didn't have a clue why you were here in the first place. with nothing to tell price, he forced his musky, meaty cock down your throat painfully, showing you no pity or sympathy while stuffing your mouth with his girthy size. you choked and gagged and retched, gurgling on the intrusion shoved down your strained throat, choking ln your saliva. you spat all over yourself, slobbering and dribbling around his lengthy dick, attempting to catch your breathe desperately.

he threatened you with a pistol pressed against the crown of your skull, that if you bit him or used your teeth against his large dick then he wouldn't hesitate to blow your brains out. your eyes were wide with agony and fear, glistening in the dim light.

you were forced to stay still at his mercy with the rope scratching and rubbing against your bare skin, causing burns and goosebumps to spread over the exposed surface of skin. he wouldn't hesitate to take it a step further and rape your weak, defenceless body if you still weren't willing to cooperate. it's not as if you could provide any information that they could use, you were nothing but useless. this was a mistake that they didn't realise, and you were now subjected to different forms of torture and abuse.

he'd bend you over the interrogation table, forcing you to look at the security camera in the corner of the room, shaming you for being disobedient, for misbehaving and refusing to give them any answers. knowing this was all being recorded caused your stomach to churn, the bloody mess left between your thighs stinging and agonising, the pain spreading and intensifying with each hard and merciless thrust, his brutality and cruelty causing you wail out and scream through disgust and pain.

#orla speaks #tw: noncon #captain john price x reader #price x reader #price cod #captain john price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #john price #john price cod #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #captain price #price call of duty #mw2 price #john price mw2 #cod x reader #cod x reader smut #cod #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod imagine

[mechaknight-98]

Dominant (NSFW) FT Haseul

Author’s note: Wanted to experiment a bit so I did a little something for @blanceverlast

"What do you mean I'm a surrogate baby?" I ask my parents.

"Well, JJ, you know we've had fertility issues, so we turned to surrogacy for help," my mom explains, but I narrow my eyes, questioning why this revelation is only surfacing now.

"Well, your 'mom' would like to meet you," my mother adds.

"And what does she do?" I ask, puzzled.

The plane ride to South Korea overwhelmed me; I never imagined my "mom" would be so far away. Yet, surrogacy can originate from anywhere, I suppose. As I sit in the back of the plane, my seatmate approaches.

She wears a mask, yet there's an enchanting aura about her. Smiling (or at least I assume so, judging by her eyes), she sits beside me. The plane takes off, and we sit in silence. Despite my efforts to stay awake, exhaustion eventually overtakes me, and I drift off to sleep.

Upon awakening, I feel a lightweight on my shoulders. I crane my neck to see my seatmate. Her mask has slipped down, revealing her face. As our eyes meet, arousal floods through me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she says, smiling.

Enraptured by her beauty, I stumble over my response. "I'd love it if you bothered me. Wait, no... you're no bother."

She smiles and sits up across from me. "Call me Haseul," she says with a pleasant voice. I smile back, extending my hand for her to shake.

"JJ charmed to meet you," I reply. Haseul takes my hand happily.

"So, what brings you to Korea?" she inquires.

I hesitate, searching for an appropriate response. "Um, my surrogate wanted to meet me," I reply. Haseul looks at me, puzzled, before smiling.

"Okay," she says before taking out her tablet. I glance over her shoulder, and she catches me.

"Do you like Kaiju research?" she teases, having caught me off guard. Surprisingly, I enthusiastically replied yes. Haseul's eyes flicker with interest.

"Oh? Then look this over and tell me what you see," she says confidently, handing me the tablet. I study the notes and diagrams, absorbing the information.

"This is a new species of Kaiju," I declare.

Haseul looks surprised. "Wait, how did you deduce all of that from my research?"

"Well, the DNA sequence at the 8th and 24th helix links is wholly different from any other Kaiju in the same family. Plus, if you examine the dorsal plates aligning with the spine, there's an unusual vein structure depicted in them," I explain.

Haseul's eyes widen in astonishment. "How did you notice all of that?"

"I like Kaiju," I admit.

Haseul looks impressed and asks me to go over all the research she just completed. Over the next several hours, we fill the time pouring over her findings. By the end of the flight, we've barely scratched the surface of this new Kaiju she accidentally discovered.

"Shit, we need more time. Hey, when you're done visiting your 'surrogate,' come to this lab," Haseul says as we pack up. She hands me a business card and her personal cell number. As we prepare to go our separate ways upon landing, I notice a dark-skinned woman who sees me and says, "James?" I look at her before Haseul pops up behind me.

"Yuma, you know JJ?" Haseul asks.

"Yes, he's my son," Yuma replies in English before saying something else in Korean that I don't understand.

Haseul's eyes widened as she smiled knowingly. The two women led me to a van, and we all piled in. Yuma remained silent for a while before speaking up, "You're probably hungry, James. Are you in the mood for anything?" she asked hopefully.

I nodded, replying, "Teriyaki Chicken sounds great about now." Haseul burst into laughter, causing Yuma and me to turn to her.

"What's so funny?" I asked. Haseul responded between chuckles, "You really are Yuma’s son. She loves teriyaki chicken as well," teasing with a cheeky smile. I shrugged, and Haseul's smile softened into an unfamiliar emotion. I chuckle as we get the food to go before piling back in the car.

We arrived at the laboratory, and Yuma took me aside to her office. "You’re probably wondering why I brought you here, why I did all of this," she said with a crooked smile similar to mine.

"Well, I just wanted to meet you and talk to you," she explained.

"I carried you to pay for my doctorate in Kaiju studies. I read field books to you while you were in my tummy, watching marathons of Godzilla, and Gamera movies while I studied just to stay awake, and feel you kick. It made me reconsider numerous times if I should give you up, but I was in no space to take care of a child. So I buried my growing feelings and went to term, but recently I have been feeling this gnawing emptiness. Against my better judgment, I reached out to your parents to meet you. I just wanted to hold my baby boy one more time," she said, hugging me tightly.

"A baby boy who's not so baby anymore,"

Yuma said, and I chuckled at her observation. A feeling of safety washed over me, and tears poured from my eyes. Before any other words could be said, a voice interrupted us. A big, burly man entered the room and said, "Excuse me, Yuma, you are needed." My "mom" broke the hug and smiled at me.

As I waited in the office, the door opened, and Haseul popped in. "Oh, great, you're here. Can I get your help with something?" she asked with a mischievous smile. I hesitated but couldn't resist her, so I nodded.

"Good boy," she purred, and I felt a strange sensation as she kissed me. Haseul broke the kiss and smiled. "Good, now you're nice and dumb. I need your help looking over a few charts for me, and I need you not to overthink," she said with authority. My mind was left in a hazy fog as she led me into the room.

I put my headphones in as Haseul sat at her desk and asked me to go over and aggregate some data charts. She handed me a laptop and an Excel sheet, and I diligently compiled and aggregated the numbers she'd asked for, going above and beyond by conducting a qualitative analysis of Kaiju markings and identifying outliers and notable specimens. When my "mom" came to look for me, I'd finished a substantial amount of work.

"Oh, JJ, there you are," she said as she entered the office. I looked up and nodded. She walked over and examined what I was doing, furrowing her brows before turning to Haseul, who was deeply engrossed in her work. A smile crept onto my lips as I watched her. My mom noticed and smirked before addressing Haseul, "Um, excuse me, but I think my son has helped you do half your work."

Haseul looked up at my mom and quickly apologized, "Oh, Mrs. Yuma, I'm so sorry, but JJ has been so helpful."

"I can see that. His notes on your compilation have been extensive," my mom teased. Haseul turned red but quickly pressed on, "It's not just that; he has an almost ocean-deep knowledge of Kaiju."

I shrugged, "I just like them," I responded. Haseul smiled, and I felt that strange sensation again, but this time, it was more intense. My mom noticed and smirked as we headed back to her place. On the way back, she asked me a question I 100% expected.

"Do you like Haseul?" I nodded, and my mom smirked, "Be careful with her," was her only warning. Sadly (but not really), I didn't heed it.

Haseul’s claws (she's a Red Panda Kaijin) were comforting and sexy even before she wrapped them around my throat. She started small with pet names like my puppy or Handsome. Then came some light flirty glances and touches. That's what sealed the deal I was hers. Her little pup to mold and shape how she saw fit. 

This all culminated in the day before I left. I helped her and my mom finish something and Haseul said, “Oh my little pup so dumb but eager to please,” my brain broke and I responded (thankfully my mom wasn't there to hear this)

“Oh please fuck me dumb. Mark me and claim me as yours Haseul,” Haseul smirked at me. Her eyes narrowed as her scent filled my nostrils leaving me lightheaded and aroused. She slipped over to me and sat on my lap. Her voice took on a Saccharine and lurid pitch as she spoke, 

“Oh my needy pup, what makes you think you deserve my touch,” she coos and I moan which turns her smirk into a wicked smile. If it wasn't clear to her before it was now. I am her little pup. I'm only hers to play with and manipulate as she sees fit. One hand palms my hardening cock and the other wraps itself around my throat. She smiles maliciously as my breath hitches and her control over me becomes absolute. She extends her talons enough to draw blood but my horny head only draws a euphoric pleasure from the sensation.

“I could rip your throat out and you'd ask me if you were a good little pet?” she said which elicited another moan from me, “Oh dumb pup I'm going to have fun training you.” Haseul gloated, as she began to stroke my rod.

As she did she licked my blood off of her talons the lurid sight drove me to new heights. After she licked the blood off her talons she licked my neck where she pierced me. I felt the wounds begin to heal as she eyed me with a ravenous hunger before telling me, open your mouth for me pup, and stick your tongue out.” I follow her command and she sucks my tongue while it's out before inching closer until our lips touch and devours me in a kiss. I resign myself to being her prey, she smiles viciously and then abruptly stops. My body jolts at her with a drawl of touch. 

“Later my puppy. I don't want you to make a mess,” Haseul replies. I groan and get up trying to relax and take my mind off of her touch

Before I could walk off Haseul said, “No stay!” I returned to her as she commanded. She smiles. “I trained you so well. What a good boy.” Haseul says with her most proud and soothing tone.

“Sit” Haseul commands and I do. She revels in her power over me. I'm just so happy to see her happy. 

“So here is how it's going to go puppy. I am going to not touch you for the rest of the day but when we get off meet me at my apartment and we will finish what we started,” Haseul said seductively. I nod and she smiles. We get back to work and she says, “Good boy,” 

After I finish my “work” my mom has to stay late and leaves in the care of Haseul. Before I leave my mom gives me a rather large sum of won and says “Treat Haseul well tonight.” I nod and we drive off. I ride with Haseul and ask

“You hungry,” Haseul nods and we decide to head to a nearby restaurant. It's a pizza joint. We get in and I sit with Haseul. I'm nervous as this is a very different level type of intimacy that we haven't shared before. I swallow my nerves and go for the safest compliment I could think of. “Your glasses are great really show off how your eyes are dazzling,” I say. Haseul beams with a shy smile. “Oh, so that's the way to turn the tables,” I tease. Haseul narrows her eyes. 

“Careful pup. I can take you to heaven tonight or leave you in purgatory,” Haseul says bitingly. I smile 

“What so funny?” Haseul asks accusingly. 

“Haseul I'm not trying to do anything funny I just really like you and no it's not just because of all “claiming” you've done. You're witty, compassionate, and gorgeous. Plus you like all the dumb stuff I like. Why would I upset you,” I reply Haseul blushes intensely before our food arrives. We eat in relative silence but Haseul makes sure I'm full and hydrated. She reasons that she wants her puppy to be ready for his walk. We entered her apartment and she excused herself to her bedroom before calling for my help.

And now you're all caught up

“So my pretty Firebear, what would you like to do first,” I ask. Haseul smiles

“Ooh, I like that,” Haseul coos, and our lips meet. 

We break out first kiss and she smiles before pouncing on me. She rips open my pants and shirt before saying, “Be a good little puppy, and let me ride you,” 

 

Haseul takes me inside her and my mind goes blank. She’s so tight. I try to formulate words but she starts to grind her crotch against mine. She leans in closer and says, “Oh my little puppy isn't so little,” I moan at her expert control over my body. Her touch is delicate but powerful. I watch as she sets her hands down and uses me as a tool for her pleasure. 

“How is it,” I ask eagerly to see if I can grant her higher satisfaction Haseul moans out 

“Oh God Puppy you fill me up so well,” I smile seeing Haseul lose herself to the pleasure. Her folds are soft and giving but viciously tight causing the friction between us to become so intense that I can't help but moan out as my mind turns into further slurry. 

Watching me devolve seems to excite Haseul more as she gets tighter.

“Is my needy little puppy gonna cum,” she asks I groan and she laughs, “Come on puppy. Use your words.” 

Haggard, I rasped out (in English ), “fuck take me. claim me as yours!” Haseul smiled 

“Oh I like it when you lose control and your native tongue comes out,” she coos. My cock swells within her as her pussy tightens around me. 

“That's right my little dumb slut to be used and abused,” Haseul said before wrapping her hand around my throat my breathing hitched as the terror and pleasure mixed. I couldn't think straight and just fed into her degradation of me, 

“Yes, I'm your slutty puppy. I'm only good for my cock which doesn’t deserve to cum,” I watch as Haseul's eyes widen at my words. she smiles,

"Yes You're my puppy who only cums when I want him to and you've been such a good puppy," she says moaning as I can feel her near her release. "Now Puppy cum with me," Haseul says while moaning. I groan as her words and her pussy push me to release. we cum together and Haseul Smiles.

"Good puppy," she coos, as we pass out

#kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfic #loona haseul #artms haseul #haseul smut #jo haseul #haseul

[liveontelevision]

Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader

The time has come, babes, this could be the final part

I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

♡♡♡

"I'll see you, Lucifer."

"I hope so."

Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?

Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.

But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.

Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp. 

3:01PM

"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.

— 

You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.

Speaking of,

"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.

"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.

Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you. 

"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.

"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.

"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.

"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.

As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.

"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel? 

"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.

"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.

"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.

"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.

"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.

"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.

"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.

"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.

After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.

Purple always looked good on you.

"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.

"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.

"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.

"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious. 

Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.

"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.

"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.

"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.

"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.

"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.

"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.

"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.

"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.

You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.

The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.

You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.

The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.

"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.

Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.

"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.

"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.

Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.

Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.

The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.

Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.

"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.

You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.

"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.

"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.

Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.

Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.

He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.

"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.

"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.

"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.

You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.

You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?

"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.

You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.

"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.

His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.

"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?

"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.

"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.

"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.

"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.

"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.

"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.

Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.

Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.

"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.

"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.

Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.

Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..

A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.

The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.

Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.

Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.

"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.

"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.

"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say  anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.

"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.

What just happened?

"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.

♡♡♡

lmao jk there's more parts coming

( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )

!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee

@0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld @phamtasic @mjmdragons )

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[leviismybby]

Cat and Mouse

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering

Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.

"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.

"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.

"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.

You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.

His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.

And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.

The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.

He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.

Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.

He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.

The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."

You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.

Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.

#levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot levi #captain levi #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #levi x y/n #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female!reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x female reader #levi x fem!reader #aot smut #aot x female reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #aot levi ackerman #levi aot

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Three - Maxie

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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For three days, Max went back to that café. On the first day and the second day, Bunny wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found around Monaco. Max tried to search for her, but his search came up empty.

On the third day, Max was ready to give up.

He still went back to the café as he had every day since, hope slowly dying in his chest. As much as he wanted to taste one of her fruity drinks on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to order one, not unless it was her hands passing it to him. Max had stuck to bitter coffees that he didn't much like the taste of.

As he rounded the corner, walking towards the café, he stopped. After three days of desperate searching, there was Bunny.

She was in a different dress this time, a pink one that made her look positively angelic. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the straw as her fingers, nails pink like her dress, wrapped around her glass.

Max flattened himself against the wall around the corner. As long as she couldn't see him. If she was alone, Max would have sauntered up to her, full of confidence and asked her out. He wanted to give her his number, to get to know Bunny even when he wasn't there in Monaco.

But she wasn't alone, was she? Max hated that he recognised the person she was with. Charles Fucking Leclerc. What the hell was she doing with Charles Leclerc? Did it mean she was from their world, too?

Max waited. He regularly checked around the corner, waiting for Charles to just piss off. He was getting antsy, and time was running out. Fuck, why did Charles have to be there?

At last, Charles stood up. He said something to Bunny, said something Max couldn't hear, and left. As soon as he disappeared inside of the café, Max pushed away from the wall and went striding towards her.

"Hey, Bunny," he said as he strode over to her and sat in Charles's seat.

Her eyes went wide and she looked at up him with a pretty smile. "Max, right?" She asked, her head resting in the palm of her hand.

He leaned forward, hands held together in front of him. "Listen, Bunny, I've got to go away for a little bit. But I would like to see you and I do want you to have my phone number," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and passing it to her.

"Where are you going?" Bunny asked as she put her number into his phone and sent herself a text. "Anywhere nice?" A sultry smile crossed her lips, one Max was sure she didn't even realise she was wearing.

Max let out a chuckle and leaned back in his seat as he took the phone back from her. "I wish," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't elaborate further. He checked the time on his watch. "I've really got to go, Bunny. But I'll be back soon, I swear."

She sucked her smoothie through the straw and batted her lashes at him. "Goodbye, Maxie," she said and wiggled her fingers at him. It was an image Max never wanted to forget as he left, rushing away before Charles could catch him.

Not that Bunny knew. She kept watching Max, looking in his direction even after he'd disappeared. Her smoothie was quickly finished, just in time for Charles to sit back down opposite her.

"Was someone here?" He asked, immediately noticing the far away look in her eyes. She shook her head and went to drink more of the smoothie she had already finished. "Don't lie to me, Bunny."

"Nobody was here, Charles," she insisted. She looked down at her empty smoothie. "Can I get another?"

But Charles shook his head. "Sorry, Bun. But we've got places to be." He stood up and offered her his hand. She walked with, arm linked through his as they headed away from the café.

Charles led her to his car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and held her hand as she climbed in, her free hand holding the skirts of her pretty pink dress down. Her head was against the window as she hummed along to the radio, leaving Charles to concentrate on driving.

How long had it been since Bunny Dupont had been back in France? She didn't know. But the scenery didn't look familiar as Charles drove her towards her fathers house.

Her phone buzzed in her little purse, but she didn't pick it up. Max was her little secret, for now, and she didn't want Charles to know. Charles would just put a stop to it, even if Max was a lovely guy. She drummed her nails against the purse in her lap as Charles pulled up to the gates that guarded her fathers house.

"Charlie," she mumbled, looking towards him. Charles out a hum, never tearing his eyes away from the road as the gates swung open. "What does he want this time?" She mumbled, eyes cast down at her lap.

Charles parked outside of the house, but he didn't climb out. He let out a sigh and turned towards her, his eyes kind. "I know, Bun," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. It was more comforting than anything. "I'll be with you the entire time."

She climbed out the car and slipped her purse over her shoulder. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house.

It was incredibly strange that Charles had a key and she didn't. He let them into the house and pushed the door shut, locking it as soon as they stepped in.

She hated coming back to the house. The walls were lined with pictures, portraits of her brother. While her father was obsessed with her brothers death, he hadn't dwelled on it. After a year of desperately searching for his killer, they gave up. The statue of Louis Dupont she could see out in the garden had her shivering.

Charles kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs. She had her own room in the house, but it had been untouched for years. The door remained partially open, revealing the pink and the soft toys that covered the room. It was a child's room, one she'd never felt safe in.

Her fathers office was at the very end of the hall. Charles knocked for her. He stood with his hands behind his back as they waited to be welcomed in.

As soon as Dupont called, Charles pushed open the door and let Bunny in. She pulled her skirts down as she approached her fathers desk.

"Hello, Darling," said Dupont. He stood from his desk and walked around to her, bringing Bunny into his arms. "How have you been?" He asked and kissed the top of her head.

Bunny stood, stiff as a board as her father returned to his chair. She didn't have much to say to her father; their relationship hadn't remained the same after Louis died. It had only gotten worse. "Listen, Bunny." For some unexplainable reason, she hated hearing her father call her that. "We have been invited to the Netherlands and I want you there with me."

"Mr Du-"

But Dupont fixed Charles with a look, one that had him falling silent.

"Papa," Bunny said as she stepped up to the desk. "I've never gone on a job before. Why do you want me?" She asked. "Why not take mom?"

Dupont let out a laugh, a mocking one that had Bunny's blood boiling. She hated it here. "Your mother used to be cut out for things like this, Bun, but not anymore. If I want to put my best foot forward, I have to bring my prettiest girl."

She couldn't stop the feeling of the bile rising. "Can Cha come with?" She asked as she reached her hand towards Charles.

A frown covered her fathers face. "Cha?" He asked. But then he saw the way she grabbed Charles arm. "No, Darling. Charles cannot come with us."

With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and threw up.

right so i've just discovered all of my tags on the last part didn't fucking work and i'm so mad about it

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa

Series taglist (CLOSED): @doofensmirtzevil-inc @styl1shl1v @dreamsarebig @bokutos-babyowl @minmira95 @booksandflowrs @spookystitchery @purplephantomwolf @minchedchilli @starssfall @mellowarcadefun @the-ghost-lovwr @solidalibi @graydahlia21 @st4rshine @iloveyou3000morgan @vicurious28 @evie-119 @bigratbitchsworld @closestthingtocoffee @maximofflove @sillygoose5 @purplephantomwolf @thehufflepuffavenger1 @thatsusbitch @annispamz

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

[wintertime-in-june]

A Marriage of Convenience

Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader

You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.

Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.

As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.

He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...

He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.

You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.

Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.

The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.

"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.

He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.

You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.

"What's up kleine Maus?"

'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.

"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."

You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.

You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.

"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.

"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."

You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.

König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.

"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.

"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.

"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.

"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.

König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.

He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.

"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.

König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily. "A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.

You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.

"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."

There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.

"I'll marry you."

The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.

"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.

He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.

Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...

Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.

From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.

"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.

You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?

He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.

"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."

You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.

"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.

He let out another chuckle.

"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.

"What should i call you sir?"

"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.

"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"

"Your husband."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...

#konig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #loser konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig modern warfare #konig call of duty #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

Hey girl! Since you write 2 of my fave genres and saw your're accepting requests I hope that maybe this message reaches you and you will give my idea a try. It is of course some angst to fluff with Gojo x reader. Both in their 20s (let's say JJK0), reader is pretty new to the Jujutsu world but just as strong as Satoru, super funny and sarcastic but very chill (so a bit his opposite if you will). Shoko, being close with the reader notices that she has feelings for Gojo and she doesn't confess because of fear of rejection. Things get worse when reader *thinks* she sees him flirting and tries distancing herself and wallow a bit. So maybe at the end either something happens and Gojo confesses (in his own emotionally constipated way) ooorrr Shoko *helps* out a bit by having a talk with good 'ol Gojo (or both *wink*). Either way, you take this idea, turn it, twist it, do whatever your magical talented self wants with it and you have all the love from me (you have it nevertheless ^^). Thank youu

Misunderstandings Can Often Be Helpful {Gojo Satoru}

A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like it

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Trigger Warnings: none

Everyone who knew Gojo in a relatively more personal level could see it. Geto leaving hurt him. His wounds were still fresh and bleeding but he was now the strongest. Alone. The word didn't even feel right, refering to himself as the strongest when he had been so used to saying "we" since Geto was supposed to be always there with him. His best friend. His one and only.

But life went on and soon a new student was announced. With the only exception that you were no regular student. After the arrival of Yuta in Jujutsu Tech, Gojo had naturally expected you to be more around the first years age. The shock on his face when he learnt that you were just a few years younger than him would forever remain imprinted on your meomory... and on paper since Shoko managed to take a picture of him.

When the principal told him about you, Gojo expected to see someone with no abilities whatsoever. He knew of course that you were almost on the same level as him power-wise and from Yaga's sayings, you had no idea how to control your powers. It went without saying that he had been assigned to be your teacher since he not only was the only one who overpowered you but because he was the only one knowledgeable enough to help you understand and control your powers. That was what he told Shoko anyways.

What he didn't expect however was to get his ass kicked both physically and mentally. And all that on your first day there as well.

"Whoah, were are you going?" He quickly stood up, stretching his back. The last kick you had given him behind the knees had been enough to make him realise that turning off his limitless was a wrong decision.

"To get some water, I assumed we were taking a break? You seemed really friendly with the floor." You opened the door, ready to walk out.

"Do you usually assume a lot of things?"

"It appears as such. I assumed you were stronger in physical combat."

Now that was a hit below the belt. Apart from Geto and occasionally Shoko, no one ever had the balls to call him... weak. Gojo Satoru wasn't weak. He was the strongest!

"Damn that would have looked great on camera..." Shoko shrugged, blowing out the smoke from her cigarette.

"Are you kidding me? I don't even have time to respond! It's one sarcastic comment after another!" Gojo chuckled before shouting a 'time out' for the first years.

After that day, Shoko took a great liking in you, mostly because Gojo seemed to be getting gradually better emotionally. In fact, she went to properly meet you the very next day. And the rest was history.

You and Gojo were the only reasons why she would stay up late in her office, waiting for your training session to end, just so she can catch up with all the latest gossip brought by none other than the new strongest duo.

But Shoko was no fool. Be it after training sessions, after missions or even after some casual nights out with the two of you, she had quickly picked up on the way you looked at Gojo. It wasn't really admiration. Hanging out with his annoying ass had brought your ego to the same level as his. It wasn't the expected teacher-student dynamic either. That had long been gone after you managed to give him a black eye (accidentally obviously) during your early days of training.

It was something else, something she could say was a developing crush on the world's most annoying human being. But it was fun seeing it. Gojo knew your favourite drink by heart and would order it for you before you could even open your mouth. You would slightly blush when he would pass it on to you after the waiter mistaking it for his order. On extremely rare occasions she would catch your apologetic expression as you brought him to her office after landing him a hit that wasn't supposed to hurt him at all. Not to mention how she would notice you looking at him during your breaks. Yes, that was what sealed the deal for her.

The only problem was... Shoko knew Gojo and most importantly, she knew the reputation that surrounded him and if not the reputation then... the crowds of women. Not to be mistaken though, Geto was surprisingly far more popular with women back when Gojo and him were teens.

"You're here alone? That's a new one." She patted Maki's back, signaling for her to leave as Gojo entered the office.

"Yeah well... y/n left right after practice ended." He groaned and laid down on the cold metal bed Shoko had. "She did strain her leg though so I don't know why she refused when I offered to take her to you."

Shoko's alarms went off. You, refusing help from none other than Gojo Satoru? The guy you had a crush on for the last year now? Sure, there had been a few times here and there when you refused to help each other out of pure banter but at the end of the day, both of you walked into her office together.

"What's with that smile?" Gojo raised the left side of his blindfold just to side eye Shoko. "It's creepy."

But Shoko's life had just gotten a new meaning because the very next day she was ringing the doorbell of your apartment. She knew it was Saturday, you didn't have any missions and no practice time with Gojo so this was the perfect time to learn what had happened the night before.

Shoko wasn't someone who liked gossip. Scratch that: she wasn't someone who liked to work in order to learn the latest gossip. To his credit though, Geto always brought her something juicy. With him now gone, she was counting on you and Gojo.

"It's... 8 in the morning... what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" You let out a yawn and stepped aside to let her walk in your apartment.

"I need to know everything." She removed her shoes and her coat. "And when I mean everything, I mean even the tiniest bit of sweat that ran down Gojo's exposed forehead that made you not come to my office yesterday." With an air filled with nonchalance, Shoko took the ashtray you had bought specifically for her and walked towards your balcony. She knew you didn't like the smell of smoke in your house. "Come on! I need words coming out of your mouth sweetheart!"

You would have made up an excuse. Shoko knew you would, she could practically see it forming in your head but she knew you weren't going to say it. Because she was your best friend and you were hers and in the past year, the two of you had shared more secrets with each other than she had with anyone else. Yaga's hemorrhoids? You had discussed that in your first week there. Yuta's crush on Maki? Been there, said that.

"Um... I just... does he have a girlfriend?"

"No? Why?"

"Because... like..." And then you finally caved in, taking the closest chair and placing it next to the one Shoko was sitting on. "Two days ago, after we had returned from our mission, I filled in the paperwork and as I was heading to Yaga's office I saw him talking to a woman... and she seemed both serious and flirty?"

"How did she look like?" Shoko asked a little hesitantly, hoping you weren't talking about the one she thought you were talking about.

"Tall, blonde hair, she was holding a helmet."

Her assumptions had been correct. "Yuki? Tsukumo Yuki?" She turned to look at you with wide eyes and a cigarette that was hanging so loosely from her fingers that could fall in any moment. When you didn't respond, Shoko bursted out laughing. "Are you shitting me? Yuki is a special grade sorcerer. She would never... god... anyways, I have to go to the office."

That was a lie. Shoko wasn't going to the office.

Conveniently enough, yours and Gojo's apartment were as close as a fifteen minute walk so when she finally reached the fifth floor of his flat, she wasn't breathless.

"If you don't confess to that poor girl in the next hour, I will personally call her and tell her that her contact name in your phone is love. With a red heart."

"It's almost nine in the morning what are you doing here? Why are you even up so early?" He let out a yawn but unlike you, he didn't let her in so Shoko just pushed her way in. "No matter the case, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh you do. You have bought her kikufuku over a thousand times. Kikufuku that were meant for you!"

"I am a person who likes to share." Gojo leaned against the kitchen bar.

"He is lying." The old lady that he had hired to clean his house on Saturdays spoke, walking out of his bathroom. "He keeps following me while I clean and talks about her. I even sent her a gift on her birthday since aparently I know her better than her own mother."

Shoko's eyes widened at the sound of this new information and it wasn't long before she started throwing the apples on the kitchen counter at Gojo.

It took Gojo three minutes to put on some nice clothes and he could swear that if Shoko was tall enough to reach him, she would be dragging him to your house by his ear.

"What's-"

"Have fun!" Shoko pushed Gojo inside your apartment and before both of you could protest, she closed the door and glued her ear on it so she could listen to every single word, every single comma said between the two of you.

"How's your leg?" He asked. If anyone were to grade him right now, maybe he could get a D- for the effort.

"I'll live."

"Um... so..."

Was he nervous? Gojo Satoru, nervous. Let me rephrase that: Gojo Satoru was nervous while talking to a woman?

"You have made huge progress this past year. And I appreciate that we..."

The truth was that not even Satoru himself knew why he was so nervous. He had performed this speech for months in front of his mirror even though he knew how unlike himself this was. Gojo Satoru never rehearsed love confessions because he never needed any. The girls confessed to him, not the other way around.

"We?"

"Please calm down a little. I am trying to remember the highlighted part at the corner of the page."

No, he hadn't written anything down. Hell, he had never even completed one rehearsal of this supposed love confession. But humour came naturally to him; it was the only way Gojo knew when it came to dealing with stressful situations. Especially after Geto left.

"I am glad we are the strongest um... together."

"Sure." You brushed it off, unaware of the amount of effort this poor guy was putting into confessing.

"Great, I'll pick you up at 7."

"For what?"

"Our date?"

"What date?"

"The one I am taking you on because I just confessed and this is what couples do?" A small pause followed and Gojo could practically feel the sweat staining his forehead even though he wasn't really sweating. "No?"

"8 works better."

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga

[sanguineterrain]

Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #superman x you #clark kent x you #clark kent imagine #superman imagine #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc x you #inbox #blurb

[lilasamaaa]

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

[tj-dragonblade]

I SEE YOU HAVE A TAKE ON MER HOB MAY I HEAR ABOUT MER HOB

YOU ABSOLUTELY MAY, even if it took me longer to respond than intended, oops. But! Mer-Hob is slowly turning into a different fic than originally imagined last year. Which is fine, and good, because what I'd originally imagined just wasn't working. I think I can confidently place him back on the wip list now with a better idea of the shape he'll have moving forward. And for you, thank you for your patience, here is their freshly-drafted first kiss scene:

"Dream?"

Dream glances to where Hob sits beside him, tail fin drifting idly in the water near Dream's bare feet. Dream had brought chocolate, again; the delight Hob had displayed the first two times was something he wanted to see again, and again, and again. He wanted to find every way possible to bring joy to Hob, to make that warm smile light up, to bring his laughter bubbling forth.

The chocolate has been finished, though, and Hob sounds…tentative; Dream's brow creases. "Yes?"

"I've got a question for you. Or. Well. Not so much a question, as something I'd like to tell you." He's tilted his head slightly, is toying with the lowest spine of his ear-fin. "It's. It's—I've been trying to tell you, like I would another mer, but I don't think you get it. And why would you, culturally, you've got no way to know if I don't explain it first right? So I thought, maybe I should just. Try it the human way?"

Dream is perplexed, not sure he entirely follows what Hob is trying to say, but then Hob is leaning closer, leaning in, as if he means to—

His lips touch Dream's, and Dream's heart stops as his brain catches up. Hob. Is kissing him—

Except it's not exactly a kiss, has none of the common elements aside from two pairs of lips in contact; Hob is very still, holding that touch for another instant, and then he pulls back.

Dream's heart thuds in his chest, tripping faster; he can feel how wide his eyes are and how his mouth has fallen slightly open, but all he can see is the hopeful uncertainty in the warm depthless brown of Hob's eyes.

"I'm sorry if I didn't do it right. But a kiss is how you say you like someone, right?"

"I. Yes." Dream is drowning in the instant-replay inside his own brain. Hob. Had kissed him. Hob had kissed him. Hob had kissed him—

"Well. I like you. And I think maybe…maybe you might um. Like me too?"

Dream manages a nod. "Mmhm." His heart is racing.

"Well!" Hob looks delighted if still nervous, and his tail flicks up in the water with a splash. "That's good, then! Brilliant! Okay!" He smiles, all warmth and happy energy. "Okay."

"Merfolk do not kiss, then?" Dream is slowly processing, still catching up, still circling helplessly around the bright spot of Hob kissed me, Hob LIKES me.

"Not many, nope. And I've never. But I've seen enough humans and human stuff to get the idea. Did I do it right?"

"Right enough. However." Boldness surges up in Dream, riding the bubbling tide of joy curling higher within his chest. "Can I. May I show you, what observation alone does not perhaps convey?"

"Of course," Hob says, curiosity in the tilt of his eyebrows, and Dream leans in.

It's soft, sweet; he fits his lips gently to Hob's and presses, brushes them together and apart and together again, aching with the fulfillment of this long-held wish. He is kissing. Hob. And Hob is kissing back, tentatively matching the movement of Dream's mouth on his, and Dream is dizzy with it. His hands yearn to hold, to touch; he brings one up and lets his fingertips flutter lightly to rest on Hob's cheek, away from the delicate spread of his ear-fin, away from the curve of his neck where his gills are tightly sealed. And when Hob reaches carefully to touch him in kind, Dream's heart soars.

A long moment passes before he ends the kiss at last; he draws back just enough to see, to watch Hob's eyes blink slowly open.

"Oh," Hob breathes, voice full of softness and wonder, and his beautiful eyes shine warm with the same.

~ Mer-Hob wip tag for the other recent chunk and some older little bits that may just wind up orphaned

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: merhob #merfolk

[the-lil-spud]

Mama Didn't Raise no Bimbo Part Three!

Part three is here my gorgeous little demons! Now just to warn you all this is literally a filler part BUT it explains a bit of why Angel invited Y/N up to the tower when we had warned her away before!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Getting in the elevator you almost didn’t turn back to face the two Vee’s. Your nerves almost getting the better of you. But if you didn’t turn you just knew that would be a win for them. So, you straighten your spine, mentally pull your big girl panties up and turn as gracefully as you can with your best award winning smile to face them both.

The two predatory smirks and narrowed eyes directed at you made your dead heart thump in your chest.

You were so fucked!  

So, the entire taxi ride to the club you and Angel didn’t say a word to each other, a few awkward glances here and there but not a word. You watched out the corner of your eye him open and close his mouth various times as if to say something and then stop themselves. After the sixth time it was starting to wind you up.

Finally reaching the club you both make your way to your usual booth; waving over at the bartender and point to the vodka bottles behind them – your usual poison on nights out with Angel. Something was telling you that you’d be needing it more tonight. Waiting until you both had a full glass you down it in one, wincing at the sting before pouring yourself another. Catching Angel open and close his mouth again you grumble under your breath.

“Right Angel, cut the bullshit what the fuck was that back there?” Leaning back against your chair your narrowed gaze focused on the squirming demon in front.

“What do you mean what the fuck? What the fuck was with you flirtin’ with the Vee’s?” Crossing his arms defensively, glaring right back at you.

“Like fuck I was flirting! If you hadn’t noticed I was trying to escape some very unwanted advances. Which, by the way, only happened because you invited me up there in the first place!” You knocked back another glass of vodka. Wincing again you try to push down the small bit of guilt that was rising. You knew it wasn’t Angel’s fault that Vox and Valentino had acted like they did. And sure, maybe you did flirt a little bit back with them, but it was mainly out of self-preservation. Only a tiny bit was because you thought they were a hot and what girl doesn’t like a bit of attention off rich and charismatic demons? Especially when you knew you shouldn’t like the attention.

The conflicted look that graced Angel’s face made you take notice. Pouring two drinks for you both, pushing his glass towards him you ask: “what is with the face sugar?” Pulling at his bow tie he grimaced before necking his drink then taking your full one from your hand and finishing that one too. Rude.

“That isn’t exactly the way it went down Y/n”, gesturing for you to pour another round you do so but with a slight frown. What did he mean? Deciding to sip on his next drink he sighed after a moment, avoiding your eyes he admitted: “I didn’t wanna invite you up there Y/n, but Val asked me too – turns out Vox wanted to meet you”.

The drink you were sipping managed to catch in the middle of your throat, holding a hand up to your mouth you started to cough up the vodka. Eyes watering and confusion bubbling you banged on your chest with your other hand. Angel quickly sat beside you giving your back a swift tap to help dislodge the liquid. After a few moments you managed to catch your breath, turning in the seat to focus on Angel, pushing your drink back on the table.

“He what? Vox wanted to meet me?”

Angel wiped a few of the escaped tears off your cheeks with his gloved fingers, a crooked smile on his face, “yeeep, weird right?” Just a tad.

“Hang on. So let me get this crystal clear. Vox asked Val to tell you to invite me up to the Vee tower all because he wanted to meet me?”

Nodding he slips your now full glass back in your hand. Huh. It was weird.

“Well yeah sugar tits, did no red flags go up when I asked you to come considering how much I bitch about Val?” A sheepish grin tugs the corner of your lips as you shrug at Angel, even when you were alive you were an idiot for ignoring red flags. “Look babe, all I know – and you didn’t hear this from me – is that Vox heard you singing on Alastor’s show and wanted to know who you were. Val managed to rub two brain cells together and figured out that I knew you and when Vox asked him, he then came to me and demanded that I get you to the tower somehow. I’m sorry Y/n I didn’t know what they were gonna do and I should have found a way to warn you or said no some more, but you know how Val is and I ju”-

Holding up your hand to stop him talking, you processed all the information. Knowing Valentino, he wouldn’t have given Angel an option to say no especially with that damn contract they had. The logical thought here was Vox probably just wanted to see if you were a threat as you were connected to Alastor – the Radio Demon – both had an extreme dislike towards one another. So it was reasonable to believe he was just checking out the competition. The illogical (and wishful thinking) part was that he wanted you for other reasons other than seeing if you were a threat, instead just wanting you for and in nefarious different ways. Pushing that thought aside for later you realised you had been quiet for a few minutes and Angel was starting to panic.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze to stop the panic “you do not have to apologise Angel; I know if you could have prevented me from going there you would have. You are bound by your contract; I don’t hold you responsible at all. Plus, they are the Vee’s, they’d have found another way to meet me and could be that wouldn’t have gone quite so smoothly”.

A relieved sigh heaved from his chest, a small smile was back on his face, glad your friend was feeling better you sipped at your drink checking the demons out around you before Angel’s voice caught your attention again.

“Just becareful Y/n. You know you can’t trust them as far as you can throw them”, his no-nonsense look made a smile twitch at the corner of your lips. Isn’t that basically everyone in hell? Well, everyone apart from dear Princess Charlie.

“Gorgeous do I look that stupid? I ain’t about to go looking for trouble so don’t you worry about me, plus I think they’ll leave me be now. They’ve met me, mystery over, they’ll be bored and hopefully will find some other poor fool to stalk” you reason while finishing your drink.

An unimpressed Angel snorted at that. And to be honest, you were unimpressed with yourself too as you didn’t even believe your own bullshit. Remembering the sparks that came from Vox’s claws on your hips, or the powerful grip of Valentino on your chin … yeah you could only pray that they would leave you alone. But somehow you couldn’t quite see that happening.

Could you?

A small vibrate coming from your phone captured your attention, pulling it out of your purse you glance up as Angel goes up to the bar to either get more drinks or drugs. Glaring daggers at a demon who bumped into your table with their drunkenness you bare your fangs before they even open their mouth to say some drivel that you probably have heard hundreds of times before. Drunken idiots were the same in hell as they were on Earth. Opening your phone you are pretty sure you had lost your eyebrows up into your hairline.

Your notifications had gone crazy. Confused you drag open Sintagram to see you had suddenly gained thousands of follows and likes. What the fuck? Not that you were complaining but what the hell. Angel returned to the table with a cup of pills and a bottle of whiskey. Before he could sit you grabbed his hand and shoved your phone into it.

“What now?” Gesturing to the notifications he started to laugh. “Ooooh sugar, finally you are reaching my level of stardom so what did ya do? Show those glorious tits finally on here? Accidental nip slip? Not so accidental nip-slip?” His chuckles became louder as your cheeks got redder.

“No nothing like that, or I hope to Hell that I didn’t on my last post!” Going to grab your phone, Angel shoved you back in your chair as he started flicking through your notifications. Grumbling in defeat you grab the bottle of whiskey and pour yourself a shot. You’d drink yourself to death, but you stayed away from the drugs here – you took a purple pill when you first came to hell and couldn’t move for nearly a week.

“Welllllll… it’s no nip slip”, a sly smirk was tugging at his lips, and he popped a pill into his mouth. Pouring another shot of whiskey, you raise your eyebrows up in question. “Seems like it’s not just the two Vee’s attention you managed to grab”. Frowning you take your phone off the now smug demon. You paused in shock when you see.

Seems Velvette had tagged your photo on her story with the hashtag #newmodel? Flicking your gaze back up to an amused Angel.

“Well toots … you might as well collect all three than just two. Here’s to you babe - you are so fucked”. He raised his glass. Raising your own you blink in shock.

Fucked was right.

Tagged: @tasha-1994

A03 link is here

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox x reader #Hazbin Vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #Hazbin Vox x valentino x velvette x reader #hazbin x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #hazbin x y/n #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel smut #Vox x reader #vox x valentino x velvette x reader #vox x valentino #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x oc #vox x you #valentino x reader #valentino fluff #Fluff #Smut #velvette x reader

[charliesgoodboy]

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

a female reader fic❤

𝙏𝙊𝙈 𝙆𝘼𝙐𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙕

why did people act as if it was so difficult to pleasure a woman? it wasn't hard, and how could people be so stupid to tell if she was or wasn't faking it. tom knew and could tell easily, and with that he could always adjust himself mid-round. wasn't difficult, so why did people act like it was? i mean he was a pornstar, but still.

you were as well, more of a rookie to be fair. you were the type of star only a few people would notice watching or scrolling past some videos on the hub or whatever site they used. it made you fair enough money, but not a shit load like tom kaulitz made. no one really knew how he blew off so fast. was it his looks? his voice?

it had been known to fake orgasms or make them seem overdone simply for the entertainment of the viewer. but the stars who were with tom? even the men said he had something others didn't, he knew exactly what he was doing and didn't just stick his tip in you expecting you to moan out on it like a bitch.

but you, out of all people was told to collaborate with him? with tom fucking kaulitz? they had to be messing with you, they just had to be. but they weren't, and a week flew by you were on a way more expensive set than the ones you were usually used to. the lighting was perfect, camera's at good angles instead of on guys just winging it. and there he was.

he was looking all pretty sitting there, a bottle of water in his hands as he had been sitting there waiting for you. for you. it was like your heart had stopped completely, how could you have fallen for him already? simply no way..he was just sitting there!

you hadn't really exchanged words, only understandings of what you were told to do when the cameras were shut on. to you, it was pretty basic. you would be there with clothes on, feel eachother up with a bit of kisses and then..sex. that was about it. right?

absolutely not. when the cameras started it went as planned, his fingers feeling up on your body softly, yours doing the same. his lips would come in contact with the skin of your neck, softly kissing and nibbling. this..this was fairly new. usually they just went right into it but he was so soft with it. it actually felt good.

oh but poor you..you got caught in his little trap just like honey. he had switched up almost the moment you had your body relax. his fingers would come to tug at your hair roughly, as his small kisses turned into bites along your pretty neck. clothes were ripped off as you instantly had your head shoved into the white cotton pillows. his two fingers would be shoved into your mouth, almost hitting your gag reflex you barely had anymore.

"be good and suck." you couldn't lie, it was his voice that captivated you. your lips and tongue had almost moved on their own, and you were coating his digits with saliva. he'd pull away, a string of spit connecting from your mouth to his finger tips. he'd rub up along your folds, slowly becoming wet on their own from the excitement coursing through your veins.

he had given no mercy, coming to shove his wet fingers into your entrance. "aw..poor girl, i can feel you clenching around me already, how cute." his fingers teased for a moment, each thrust he'd tease and purposely miss your spot that you at least wanted him to graze. your hips tried to push back onto him, yet his grip on your hair tightened. "ah-ah, don't act stupid now." he'd tut, shaking his head as if he was some disappointed teacher.

you had never felt so embarrassed..your eye liner they had given you smeared all over your face from tears, and your clit was throbbing from how hard he was going on you. how long had it been? how long had his dick been relentlessly going at your prostate, feeling like it was bruising. very unrealistic but thats what it felt like. the camera was catching almost every facial expression of yours, and gosh you couldn't even look at it like you were supposed to. "such a pretty girl, yeah? mhm..smile at the camera." his hands would grab at your jaw forcing you to look at the lense.

"hng— tom, tom please i can't.." his head would tilt a little, his hips coming up to thrust as slick and cum dripped down between your thighs, and he'd hold it there. "shh, i know i know." he'd place a 'loving' kiss on your cheek before you heard a womans voice yell cut.

i wrote this in school ya'll better like it

@tomssexdoll @tokio-motel @cherry-rawr @20doozers @itsmealaiah @evieskiesss

#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel fluff #gustav tokio hotel #gustav x reader #georg listing smut #georg listing x reader

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

I Think Hypmic's Portrayal of Gender Roles is Kinda Refreshing: An Essay A.K.A. I'm Procrastinating on a Weekend Deadline :)

Hypmic's talking points on gender are hamfisted, corny, and melodramatic. "Maybe...we shouldn't have a wage gap," is not the hottest of takes. However, like most things in Hypmic, the writers have a lot more to say about gender and gender roles in the framing of the story itself that's much more nuanced. And honestly? It's kinda refreshing.

It's also something that went way over my head when I first became a Hypmic fan. Sure, I read manga and played Japanese video games--usually translated into English first--but I didn't have enough exposure to hundreds or thousands of pieces of untranslated Japanese media. I'm going to guess that most Hypmic fans don't either, which is totally fine and normal. We all exist within our respective cultural communities wherein we're bombarded with messages constantly telling us how to act, think, and speak. We tend to absorb these messages on subconscious levels and reflect them in the art we create and stories we tell, either by reinforcing them or challenging them. Thus, our stories don't exist in a vacuum, and divorcing stories from their cultural backgrounds can suggest the artist is the original thinker of a larger concept or hide their specific point of criticism. That is, if I wrote a story about a man who chooses to not catch fish, drink beer, and drive a Dodge Ram pick-up truck, we should be aware that I'm not the person who conceptualized the stereotype of dudes who catch fish, drink beer, and drive pick-ups. I wouldn't deserve the credit for dreaming up that exact image, and at the same time, it would be incorrect to read that as me targeting those three things randomly. The choice to not drive a Dodge Ram pick-up is not a commentary on Fiat Chrysler Automobiles. It's a stand-in for the notion of masculinity.

Thing is, we're hit with messages about masculinity, femininity, and other gender-related concepts on a daily basis. No matter where you live or what language you speak, every person on Earth is inundated with messages saying, "This is what you are, and consequently, this is how you should act." Our relation to these messages is complicated, and this complexity is compounded by different cultural communities preaching different messages in their stories, marketing, and human interactions. For instance, the US's massive global cultural influence means that those outside the US can still easily recognize what I mean by catching fish, drinking beer, and driving enormous American pick-up trucks. But the location and cultural differences may add or subtract nuances. A person living in, say, Munich is unlikely to have Dodge pick-ups advertised to them the way a person in rural Texas would. Our fictional Munich person does not feel the same social pressures to buy a Dodge and represent their masculinity with a Dodge the way our imaginary Texan would. In turn, the Munich person likely sees a Dodge with an element of absurdity--who the hell needs such a big truck in a European city?--and foreign Americanness. The Texan wouldn't have that concern--why worry about navigating your enormous truck down narrow streets when you live in the countryside?--and sees Americanness as their local default, thus removing any element of foreignness.

That is to say, gendered messages aimed at people (especially women) who live in Japan don't affect me the same way as they impact those who do live in Japan. Like, it's not my dog in the fight, and there are plenty of people who are directly affected who write their own stories and commentaries on gender roles in Japan. Japanese women don't need a random guy in the US to stand up and say, "Damn, your gender roles are fucked!" 1) They already know. 2) They're already saying it. So I come at this from an angle of someone who already has deep, primary frustration with the gendered messaging in my culture and secondary frustrations when similar messages appear in other cultures. I don't have a bone to pick with Japanese media in particular. Plain and simple, reading and working on hundreds of pieces of Japanese media is what I do for a living. It's in my face constantly, and as a result, I am also perpetually bombarded by messages about gender roles in Japanese media.

It's not a hot take to say that Japanese media, like the media of every single other culture around the globe, has a lot to say about gender. There's a lot of slotting people into boxes and telling people what to do. It's chafing, as we see all across history in art produced in reaction to gender roles. In the past couple of decades, global shifts in gender roles have caused media to shift the messages they're pushing, but it's not controversial to say that Japan has lagged behind other countries like the US.

Many, many stories push arbitrary notions of how to be a girl or how to be a boy that don't necessarily come from the author themselves. The authors probably aren't even fully conscious that they're making these choices. If an author writes a story about a library and makes every female character a romance fan and every male character an action fan, it's likely a reflection of endless messaging that says action is for boys, romance is for girls. In turn, this story becomes yet another reinforcing message. If no fictional girls like action, and no fictional boys like romance, it becomes alienating for real girls and boys who don't follow these same rules. These rules are everywhere and have so much to say about gender that it's hard to know where to begin. Girls must like cute things. Boys can't like sweet food. Women must not express sexual desire. Men can't be shy. On and on and on.

Which is why, when there's a relative lack of this in Hypmic, it's kind of a breath of fresh air.

Wrong Ways to Be a Man

Actually, Hypmic does have a few moments where characters claim there are certain things men or women should do, but the writing always frames these messages as incorrect.

Take Samatoki, for instance. After Kuukou and Sasara leave MCD, Samatoki tells Ichirou, "Men shouldn't cry when they lose their friends. Men should only cry when they lose a family member."

(TDD chapter 10)

This line usually appears via Ichirou's perspective. In the stage play, it's told during a song Ichirou narrates, and as shown above in panel 3, the manga frames the line from the angle at which Ichirou sees it. In such moments, the audience is meant to read this as a cool line from a strong mentor figure to Ichirou. That's how Ichirou sees it, and he's a seventeen-year-old with too much on his shoulders who idolizes Samatoki. He is incapable of seeing how much pain Samatoki struggles with.

However, when the manga focuses on more intimate moments of Samatoki's life, we see that Samatoki does struggle quite a lot.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 6)

This isn't a cool, attractive figure meant to be idolized. While Samatoki's cigarette usage and aggressiveness are often framed as sexy or enticing, the juxtaposition with dirty laundry, overflowing ashtrays, and empty bottles make him a sympathetic and struggling figure. Therefore, we should understand that his notion that men don't cry is flawed. It's a means to distract himself from emotions he doesn't want to feel.

Later, as Samatoki begins to process his emotions and open up to his teammates, the unhealthy coping mechanisms recede. Samatoki is more confident, mature, and happier as a result of being more emotionally vulnerable.

We see a similar transformation with Kuukou. As a teen, Kuukou is reluctant to accept help or truly let anyone in. In a conversation with Hitoya, he says (and I am still completely unable to take this seriously), "A man's got to wipe his own ass."

(DH/BAT chapter 4)

However, over the course of his character arc, Kuukou learns that he cannot exist as a good leader or individual without the teamwork of his newfound "family." Only rejecting this classical and toxic notion of masculinity brings Kuukou joy.

In fact, most of the first-line characters have very similar arcs. At the start of the story, Ichirou is insistent on doing everything himself. He has to learn to be able to rely on other people (Kuukou, Samatoki, Ichirou and Jirou) to be happier and unlock his true strength. See below, his final attack and Ability use in the 2nd DRB, which is only possible when his brothers figuratively and literally support him through it.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 25)

Sasara struggles with emotional honesty and trust in favor of using humor to gloss over discomfort. It takes multiple heart-to-hearts with Roshou before he can let humor take a backseat and say how he really feels. Ramuda has difficulty trusting other people and being honest with his emotions when faced with stressful scenarios. Only through Fling Posse is he able to open up and ask for help instead of driving people away when the problems are too big for him to face alone. Jakurai struggles to connect with other people, work through and acknowledge his complicated feelings, and not place himself on a pedestal. Through Matenrou, Jakurai is able to ask for help, be more open, and ultimately be less hard on himself.

The second- and third-line characters follow similar arcs, and this repetition creates a core message for Hypmic: Trust and rely other people. Be open with your feelings. There's a wrong way to be a man, and that's to hurt yourself and other people.

Right Ways to Be a Man...Are Infinite!

But with that being said, there is a surprising lack of commentary on how else to be a man. Hypmic as a whole doesn't do much to constrain the male characters in terms of gender roles.

Sure, some characters do fit into more traditionally masculine roles--Ichirou, Samatoki, Riou, etc. The messaging makes it clear that it isn't wrong to play into masculinity provided it doesn't become toxic. (See above.)

Even then, however, these especially masculine characters are associated with less masculine traits that are either portrayed positively or not portrayed as a joke. Riou is an avid cook, but the joke is never that he wears an apron and knows his way around an outdoor kitchen (tee-hee, men don't cook!). It's that he cooks with horrifying ingredients. Samatoki is a fashionista, but the joke is framed as a counterpart to Ichirou's nerdiness.

(DoD chapter 1)

Here, it's funny that neither of them can shut up (the ペラペラ/blah blah SFX, the long bubbles filled with lots of text that's cut to indicate they kept going for longer), but the object of their attention--a model toy and a pair of jeans--are treated in the same neutral light. It's very common for stories to touch on, even defensively, the social taboo of men being into clothes. Hypmic doesn't even acknowledge that such a taboo could exist.

This is subtle but extraordinarily effective in giving characters the same consideration and weight. The more feminine characters are always treated just as sincerely (or, if there's a joke to be made, irreverently) as the more masculine characters. Take Ramuda, for instance. In Japanese media, a love of sweets is often characterized as feminine and will often be remarked upon, even in LGBT+ media, as atypical for men. Again, there's zero acknowledgement of such a thing in Hypmic. Whenever other characters talk about Ramuda's food intake, it's always framed as a concern about the lack of nutrition.

(FP/M chapter 11... I don't have the source lying around on my computer, so here's the old-ass scanlation lol)

It's also given the exact same weight as anyone else's junk food habits. Here, MCD goes out for burgers (a neutral to masculine-coded food due to the meat and high calorie count) while Ramuda opts to try a sugary Starbucks-esque drink. The parallelism in the comic's framing suggests that the two objects are functionally the same, and there is no comment that a sugary drink is feminine and therefore "inappropriate" for Ramuda. There's also no indication that MCD's preferences are in any way better. They simply happen to be the characters' personal preferences. The punchline is two groups splitting up, only to awkwardly run into each other again moments later.

(DoD volume 4 bonus comic)

Similarly, Ramuda's interest in clothes or fashion is never treated negatively--in fact, the discussions of clothes as a means to find identity and happiness make it a positive!

In ARB cards and promotional materials, Ramuda sometimes wears dresses. It's, again, portrayed in parallel to other characters wearing more masculine clothes and is never commented on as something "unusual." It's just who Ramuda is.

Hifumi is another interesting case. Like Ramuda, his playful personality often doesn't as stereotypically masculine. (To be clear, I read much of this as "gender neutral with a strong emphasis on youth" versus "feminine" in a way that I'm not sure has a good US equivalent...metrosexual/yuppie men's fashion, maybe? In the sense that it's a youth subculture that defies some masculine gender roles but is still focused mainly on men. I wish I was more well-versed in Japanese men's fashion and could give an exact term, but I'm what I'm thinking of is definitely an established thing--young, trendy dudes whose styles focus on poppiness vs. the rugged manly man or "idk, I'm just some guy" subcultures. It's a thing that pisses off old Japanese conservative men in the same fashion as people getting up in arms about "the gayz!!!1!" and their androgynous clothing lol.) Their personalities are often the butt of jokes, but only in the same way that Dice or Doppo are--that is, that they're exaggerated and over the top. There's no commentary on masculinity or lack thereof.

There are also moments when Hifumi, Gentarou, or other characters play feminine characters in roleplay moments, which is usually (but not always) not the sole joke. The audience is supposed to find it funny, but the humor is almost always centered on the absurdity of the scene as a whole. For instance, in a moment where Hifumi and Doppo are pretending to be two drunk karaoke-goers, the humor comes from the composite set-up of Hifumi's hair twirl, Doppo's untucked shirt and tie, Doppo and Hifumi's exaggeratedly flirtatious poses, the spotlights and sparkles, and the same font as used on classic karaoke machines.

(FP/M+ September 2022 oneshot)

Hifumi and Doppo do not perform traditional gender roles in their homelife, and while it's easy to see and often commented on in the English-speaking fanbase when it comes to Hifumi, I find it just as prevalent on Doppo. It's true that Hifumi is taking a feminine role by doing the majority of the household's cooking and cleaning, but if we were to assume Doppo has the masculine role in the household, he would have the breadwinner duty. However, he isn't the main source of income for their household, and he's just as unassertive in finding a (female) romantic partner as Hifumi is. Japanese men are bombarded with media messages stressing the importance of taking an active role in career and romance. That Doppo does not would, in many stories, make him the butt of a joke for not living up to masculine gender roles. But he isn't; instead, Hypmic portrays him as a sympathetic character. It's tough, Hypmic says, for people to get good jobs and maintain friendships/relationships as an adult.

Similarly, it's noteworthy that Hifumi's self-appointed term "Gigolo" is consistently portrayed as a good thing in Hypmic. The meaning of the English term aside, the Japanese word ジゴロ (jigoro) is almost always used as an insult for a man who is financially dependent on one or multiple women. In the strictest sense of the term, Hifumi is a jigoro in that his income derives from his female clients. However, there is never any shame associated with that, and as a whole, Hifumi's career as a host is shown to be a positive thing. I can't express enough how rare that is in any sort of semi-serious media. Certainly, Hypmic acknowledges that his job requires too much drinking (Doppo's verse in Hoodstar), but the overall portrayal is overwhelmingly positive. Hifumi and his coworkers are never treated as uneducated, boorish, or pathetic for "failing" to find other work that does not require flirting with and entertaining women. (This is partially due to the overlapping judgment with sex work.)

All the various harmless preferences and personality traits of the male characters are treated equally with no judgement over what's masculine or non-masculine. Within the broader context of Japanese media, this absence of judgment stands out and reinforces one of Hypmic's core themes: Differences make us better, not worse. In the end, Hypmic suggests, there's no one right way to be a man.

Right Ways to Be a Woman...Are Just as Infinite!

But what about women? This series is, after all, marketed mainly towards women, and while female audience members can no doubt extrapolate the lessons learned from the male characters, it's worth taking a look at the female characters too.

The female characters do receive much less screen time than the men and are not the focus in the series; I'd argue that's less an issue of overt sexism and more that they fall out of focus in the story the writers want to tell. (There's a broader discussion to be had about inherent sexism in the writers' focus which goes hand-in-hand with rap industries across the globe favoring men and rap being an example of exaggerated masculinity, but that's a topic for another day.)

Even so, the framing of the female characters is interesting in a couple key respects. The individual character arcs and motivations of the main female characters are, in my opinion, some of the weakest parts of Hypmic--many times, Otome and Ichijiku do things because the plot demands them to, making them look incompetent or needlessly cruel for characters we're supposed to sympathize with. Nemu's story seems to be handled with more care and takes an interesting twist, wherein she openly acknowledges that she's disenfranchised as a woman in modern Japan but rejects the notion that she needs to find strength on either Ichirou or Samatoki's (male) terms. By choosing to be strong in "her own way" (whatever that means...it's not well-defined), the authors are using Nemu to reject the notion that strength and power are inherently masculine.

What I find to be far more interesting is the character design for the Chuuouku women, both in what is said and what is not said.

To begin with, the characters and their portrayals run the gambit from highly sexualized to completely non-sexual. Some characters (especially Ichijku and Honobono) have conventionally attractive, curvy body types and are often drawn in ways that highlight their bodies.

(FP/M+ chapter 4)

(FP/M+ chapter 14)

In some cases, especially Honobono's, the enticing nature of the illustrations is framed as the character's choice; in the above, her words indicate that she wants to seduce the off-screen listeners. The images included above are largely representative of these characters' raps, regardless of illustrator.

But on the flip side, other characters with large breasts or hips are never drawn in a sexual fashion. By way of comparison, here are two shots of Nemu rapping.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 12)

Even in shots with dynamic poses, no attention is drawn to Nemu's figure in any sort of provocative sense. Nemu touches her chest, drawing the reader's eye there, but the artist does not emphasize the size of her chest--they're allowing a chest touch to be no more than an emphasis of the self. At the same time, Nemu's body isn't downplayed. We can see in panel 2 on page 2 that Nemu has a small waist and wider hips, but once again, she isn't being sexualized. The action lines draw the reader's eye to Samatoki and thus put the action first and foremost. This creates the idea that not only can characters portray themselves sexually, but they can just as easily choose not to.

We see similar with Otome, who does not wear any sort of revealing clothing and is never shown in a sexual fashion. However, Hypmic doesn't equate revealing clothing to sexual portrayals either! While I wouldn't call Tsumabira's outfit revealing, she does have more visible cleavage than most Chuuouku figures. However, her bare chest is never sexualized like Ichijiku's.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 4)

Compare the non-emphasis on the chest and the power stance to any of the many shots of Ichijuku where her breasts are front and center in the camera. Speaking of power stance, Tsumabira remains confident in her power stance without being sexy--that is, no stepping on the camera and showing her whole leg.

Which isn't to say that Tsumabira is a sexless character. She's drawn visibly turned on by the male characters in such a way that is cartoonish but not, in turn, overly sexual. Were this supposed to be titillating to the reader, I would have expected to see a larger close-up on her face and tongue. However, the artist (who is no stranger to focusing on tongues!) devotes the majority of the panel to Tsumabira's body language (which, again, doesn't absurdly exaggerate any of her proportions or focus on her chest) and covers part of the mouth with text bubbles. Tsumabira is drawn as engaging in sexual behavior without being sexualized for reader entertainment.

(FP/M+ chapter 4)

The juxtaposition of such different views with little to no judgement attached to any of them suggests that it's perfectly okay to want to be sexy or not, to wear revealing clothing or not, to be involved in sexual situations without being the object of sexual interest, or to simply exist with an attractive body type without sex ever coming into the equation. Just as some characters choose to tie bodies to sexiness, some don't whatsoever--and either is perfectly fine!

The former idea ("I can choose to be sexy") may not sound especially revolutionary to US audiences, where sexuality is thrust upon women willingly or otherwise, but I find it fascinating because it lets the main characters embrace this idea without associated slut shaming. So much of Japanese media insists that women should be sexy but are also wrong for wanting to indulge in their own sexuality. Therefore, having characters who run virtually every iteration of take on the topic (I want to engage in sexuality and be sexualized, I want to engage in sexuality without being sexualized, I don't want to engage in either) with multiple body types (ie, Tsumabira isn't automatically not sexualized because she has a smaller chest; Nemu isn't automatically sexualized because she has a bigger chest) and no judgement involved feels like another breath of fresh air to me.

As a whole, I find the diversity of the Chuuouku uniforms and character appearances quite interesting. They're undeniably all feminine and relatively militaristic, but different characters wear entirely different wardrobes. Skirts vs pants, blouses vs dresses, high heels vs boots... Since every character has her own take on the common theme, it once again feeds into the idea that each character is her own individual and perfectly valid for defining femininity in her own way.

Haircuts, too, range from longer and more feminine hairstyles to pixie cut-esque looks.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 16)

Again, nothing of the framing suggests this short-haired woman is in any way different from her longer-haired counterparts on the edges of this screenshot.

Finally, while most Chuuouku women are conventionally attractive, I find it extremely compelling that Haebaru is a stereotype of an unattractive Japanese woman. To be extremely clear, I do not think these stereotypes should have weight, but the combination of chubby and/or muscular build, freckles, rounded nose, and non-glossy hair is often used as a visual shorthand for unattractive or otherwise undesirable women.

Sure, it's not fantastic that Haebaru is a scheming, two-bit villain. However, so is virtually every other female character in the series, and in particular, Haebaru is (the conventionally attractive) Tsumabira's counterpart. Both are treated with the same respect or lack thereof, suggesting that one's appearance has nothing to do with your ability to be a no-good baddie. Ha ha ha.

It would be lovely if the female characters were fleshed out further and given intelligent choices and diversity outside of the realms of physical appearance. However, I do think the writers' choices are limited by virtue of all women automatically being antagonistic side characters (which, again, is another discussion altogether). What the writers can and have accomplished is further reinforcing a celebration of differences. Just as there's no one right way to be a man, there's an infinite number of ways to be a scheming snake of a woman HAHA.

Intersection with LGBT+ Topics

Unfortunately, this is a very binary look at gender and gender roles, which, while largely representative of the current state of Japanese media, can be disappointing.

Hypmic appears to want to steer shy of LGBT+ topics as a whole, which is a bit of a shame. In a story so focused on gender and acceptance of diversity, it seems the natural next step to explore the notion of those who experiences don't align with a strict gender binary. Such stories are growing in popularity in Japanese media but have yet to be anywhere near the mainstream acceptance in US media (which is still in a fledgling stage at best). I would imagine Hypmic's writers are unable or unwilling to take a definite stance on these topics in the work due to fears of financial or career backlash. If nothing else, the sexuality of the main characters needs to remain in a limbo in order to have plausible deniability for both self-shipping and shipping with other characters. (Some deniability may be more plausible than others.)

The few instances in which Hypmic does wander into this territory are usually clumsy. I am no fan of the handful of scenes where male/male attraction is supposed to be funny purely by virtue of being male/male.

The inclusion of Urumi, the one minor character explicitly LGBT+, is not stellar either. I am hesitant to apply any definite label to her, as the real-life people her stereotype portrays self-identify as everything from trans women to cis men--or refuse to use these English labels at all! Still, we know from her profession (proprietor of a bar heavily implied to be a gay bar by the neighborhood it's in), appearance (poofy permed hair, exaggerated make-up), and demeanor (feminine speech style, a bit flirtatious) that she's AMAB and choosing to present herself in a feminine fashion. By writing Jirou to ask, "Aren't you a man?" in an exasperated fashion, the writers have put her gender presentation in a boke role--suggesting she's over-the-top, exaggerated, comedic. It's not great. I completely understand why readers find it offensive (and it is) even while I don't think the writers intended it that way. Ultimately, it would have been great to see other explicitly LGBT+ characters portrayed without the joking angle.

With that said, I'm not entirely unhappy with her character. She is a stereotype, but the authors have chosen to take only the visual elements of the stereotype and leave the rest on the cutting room floor. In other works of fiction, characters like Urumi are often hypersexual to the point of being in-universe creepy, especially towards underage boys. Other times, characters like her may be eccentric or off-putting in other ways. However, that's not at all the case here. Urumi seems to play a helpful big sister/aunt role in Jirou's life, and he's clearly comfortable enough with her to spend the night at her bar.

(BB/MTC+ chapter 17. "Sorry, but can I shack up here again tonight?" "Of course you can.")

While she seems to engage in some sort of a bohemian lifestyle, as evidenced by the alcohol and smoking, it isn't anything outside of what many of the other characters do. Additionally, while she isn't drawn in a flattering fashion in scenes where she's playing up her persona (which is par for the course with any character in this series, regardless of gender), there are plenty of neutral shots of her being serious. Finally, the art is never outright rude--that is, she isn't drawn exaggeratedly masculine or flamboyantly...snakey? I don't know how to describe this to anyone who's lucky enough to have never seen this--clearly LGBT+ AMAB characters drawn with noodly limbs and huge, overblown lips winding around male characters.

Maybe because I see so much worse continuing to be produced in this day and age, I feel like Hypmic could have done a much, much worse job with this character. She overall plays a positive role and is treated with much the same care as other side characters. It's unfortunate, then, that the writers have chosen to make her gender presentation the subject of a joke.

In other frustrations, I heavily dislike the unnecessary gender divide in background characters. All punks and other background baddies are male, whereas all adoring fans are female. (But Rhyme Anima has done an interesting job of subverting this!) The vast majority of other background figures fall into strict gender roles, which is likewise disappointing. It appears that diversity may be an accepted trait for none but a lucky few that form the main Hypmic cast.

All in all, I don't think Hypmic's portrayal of gender roles is groundbreaking, nor do I think it's fair to suggest that all Japanese pop culture plays into strict gender roles. There are certainly many Japanese works, popular or otherwise, with much more interesting things to say about gender. However, when compared to the vast majority of the titles that cross my desk on a regular basis, I notice and appreciate the level of care put in to Hypmic's commentary on gender roles. The work consistently reinforces the notion that it's okay to be your own individual, no matter how that plays into your gender, and I find that freeing. That's a message we could all do to hear more often, regardless of culture and language.

TL;DR: Oh no, my rapidly approaching deadline. :)

#not a translation #analysis asks