#still clueless as to what I’ll do for the clothing at the moment
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It’s a long shot but has anyone following me used Marvelous Designer..? (Used for designing clothes)
I have a question on how exactly it works with blender if you aren’t doing an animation. The vid I saw required you to have an A posed model that goes into a walk cycle, which is then imported to marvelous, clothes are attached and the cloth sim is done, then the clothes are exported back to blender and lined up with the model.
But what if you only need a still image?
Would you just keyframe an A pose/T pose then keyframe the pose you want and do the cloth sim in marvelous, then go back to blender and render only the frame you need? Seems simple enough I guess but idk if there is a more straightforward way.
#I still haven’t had the chance to start the modeling. Hopefully I get to start today.#And I still haven’t decided if I’m going the rigged model or statue route lol#the current plan is to go through the courses I downloaded#then decide if im going to do it all in blender#or do it the more Professional Route™️ and use zbrush and substance painter and just use blender for the rendering#still clueless as to what I’ll do for the clothing at the moment
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DON’T YOU WANT ME, BABY? – coriolanus snow
WARNING: mentions of non-consensual sex acts, stalking, creepy coriolanus. excuse any grammar errors, i’ll fix them… when i feel like it 🤎🤎
“Why is he staring at you?” Arachne said, glaring at the blonde boy who sat alone at the behind you.
“Who? Snow?” you asked, cocking your eyebrows up.
“Who else, duh?”
You released a deep sigh before turning your torso, immediately locking eyes with the boy, a smile instantly spreading across his face. You timidly waved at him, reluctantly returning a smile. Arachne chuckled lowly at the awkward exchange between the two of you. Why did he like you? You didn’t know, nor did you care. You didn’t mind, what you did mind was the jokes amongst the girls. They would playfully tease you about him every single day. You can’t remember when he started liking you, but he made it abundantly clear, counteracting his timid demeanour and reluctance towards conversation with almost all of his peers, including you. His only friend he truly spoke to seemed to be Sejanus Plinth, another boy in your grade. A part of you sympathised with Snow, you couldn’t deny it, you related to him. His shyness reminded you of yours, his silence and his coldness. You related to the moments you watched him scatter for words to say when one of the girls spoke to him, you found it comforting.
“Hey, when are you and Snow gonna fuck? Or are you still crushing on Sejanus?” Arachne teased, you groaned in response, burying your face in your palms.
“That’s not okay, never say that again!” you cried, your words muffled by your hands, Arachne laughed in satisfaction.
Lost in your conversation with your friend, you hadn’t noticed the blonde boy. His smile had faded. He glared at you aimlessly, he was not aware of your supposed crush on Sejanus. He sat there silently, his eyes glued to the back of your head, his lunch now cold. Anger brewed within him, he restrained himself, he fought every urge to violently slam Arachne’s head into the table for even suggesting something as foul as that, every urge to grab a chunk of her hair and yank her backwards, stabbing into her throat with the fork she was eating with, multiple times– every single urge. He was going to make sure you knew you were his, no matter how or when. How could you not know? He did everything for you, you were his girl. He bought you flowers, bought you chocolate, cut Festus’s breaks for slapping your ass at his party last year, Coriolanus made sure you would never have to deal with him again. All for you. Everything is for you. He didn’t wanna hurt anyone else for you but if it came to that, he would, yes, he would. Look at you, look at how clueless you were. So fragile, he wondered if he could take you then and there, on that table. What would you do? Nothing, there’s nothing you could do.
The cold engulfed you, your legs shivering as you laid under the blanket. You left a crack of the patio door to let in air in a desperate attempt to fix the temperature in your room. You laid there, head buried into the pillow, meanwhile he stood in front of your house peering up into your window, calculating how he would get it. He found a way. Climbing up the water pipe and onto your patio. His eyes fell upon your small frame, sprawled across your bed, completely unaware of his presence. He stalked towards you; the air shifted as he entered your room. The smell of burnt incense and fresh clothes lingered– smelt different from the last time, the boy mentally noted. He inched towards your body, you softly snored, he loomed over you in complete awe. His eyes hungrily scanned your body, he felt his pants getting tight at the sight of you. You were so beautiful to him; he could tear up. His hand glided over his clothed cock, palming at himself as he stared down at you.
His body jolted as you suddenly turned over, he stopped himself from backing away, remaining completely still as you drifted back off into deep slumber. He sighed in relief, even more thankful as your pyjama was slightly unbuttoned. He thought to himself, just a little more, reaching down slowly towards your chest. He lightly pulled the side of your shirt to the left, exposing your left breast. He let out a low growl, pushing against himself even harder. Slowly, he used his hands to release his cock, his head feeling light has he soaked in his reality. He stood over you, touching himself. He wondered if he should get ballsy and do something to you, he couldn’t- that would make him a creep, he wasn’t a creep.
He felt himself get closer; his eyes shut. He choked back his moan, and he picked his pace up, his eyes flickered for a second and he froze. He could’ve sworn, put it on his heart and everything he loved and cared about that he saw you looking right back at him. He didn’t want to believe it, he relaxed his face and let his eyes open.
Laying there, wide eyed you stared at him. Bewildered at the sight in front of you, he stared at you in horror, you glanced down at his dick and back at his eyes again.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
#the hunger games#coriolanus snow#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x oc#coriolanus x you#Coriolanus smut#Coriolanus snow smut#ballads of songbirds and snakes
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clueless
mason mount x reader one shot - fake dating, smut and fluff
warnings: explicit smut, unprotected sex, virgin reader, first time sex, dom!mason and sub!reader, dirty talk, praise and degradation, body worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, overstimulation, I think that's it but pls lmk if I missed anything!
word count: 18.1k+ (she's a mammoth, ofc)
a/n: this is unedited and it’s also 2 different wips mashed together so pls forgive any mistakes or inconsistencies, i’ll edit this tomorrow! happy valentine's day! ik i've been very quiet recently but i'm gifting you guys with this to make up for it! the buildup is very long but the smut is hopefully worth it lol, it's very soft by my usual standard but i think you guys will still like it! lmk what you think <3
‘You’re late,’ I say as I open the front door, not bothering to welcome him in before I turn and head back into the kitchen, his amused chuckling making me roll my eyes. I continue with the washing up, hearing him shut the front door and enter the kitchen a few moments later.
‘You’re late too. I said to be ready for half past. It’s quarter to and you’re still washing up,’ he points out, helping himself to a cookie from the jar on the counter before sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. ‘I only started washing up because you weren’t here yet. What do you expect me to do? Sit by the door waiting for you?’ I ask without looking at him, washing the dishes with vigour to get my irritation out. ‘Yeah. That’s exactly what I expect,’ he responds, smirk audible in his voice, and I look over my shoulder to shoot him a death stare, looking at him properly for the first time.
Annoyingly, he looks as handsome as he always does, dressed in a pair of baby blue joggers and a white t-shirt with some obscure designer logo on it. His beard is at the perfect length, and so is his hair, fluffy and soft-looking. His skin is just about holding onto its tan from the World Cup and he looks like he’s been spending a lot of time in the gym, clothes tighter around his muscles than they used to be.
‘Can we go? As nice as the view is from here, I don’t want to spend my day off watching you wash up,’ he says impatiently, his demand annoying me so much that I almost don’t notice the comment on my ass. ‘Maybe if you hadn’t been late,’ I say irritably, rinsing off the last dish before washing my hands and drying them, the boy eating another cookie.
‘Stop eating all my cookies,’ I snap, so close to snatching it out of his hand, and he rolls his eyes before finishing it off. ‘I’ll buy you more.’ ‘I made them myself.’ ‘Oh, so that’s why they taste like shit then,’ he grins, and I take a deep breath to compose myself, heading towards the front door before I put his head through my kitchen wall.
I sit down on the bottom step of the staircase to put my boots on, doing up the zip slowly so I don’t catch my socks in it (it’s happened one too many times, and I’m sick of having holey socks). I’m wearing an outfit inspired by Clueless – a white bodycon ribbed dress with a thin pink cardigan over the top of it, and white knee high boots that add a couple extra inches to my height.
I check my reflection in the mirror beside the front door, Mason leaning against the doorframe and inspecting his nails in a way that indicates how bored he is waiting for me, and I make sure my phone, keys, lipgloss and powder are all in my little white Hermes Kelly bag before I turn to face him.
‘Ready?’ Mason asks, not waiting for an answer before he opens the door and walks out. Chivalry is dead. I lock up behind us, the boy already sat in the car by the time I head down the patio steps, and I’m surprised when he at least has the courtesy to push open the passenger side door for me. The kindness of the gesture is lost when the door hits me and nearly knocks me over, Mason laughing uncontrollably as I scowl at him.
I climb into the car, shutting the door behind me before adjusting the seat to my liking. He starts the engine, racing out of my driveway as I connecting my phone with Bluetooth to the car. He doesn’t say anything but his pursed lips say everything for him – he’s always complaining about my passenger-princess tendencies. I shuffle my Summer Walker playlist, Mason groaning when the opening notes of ‘Tonight’ start playing out of the speakers on either side of us. He skips it, but when he realises the next song’s Summer as well, he doesn’t bother trying to turn it off, letting me skip it back to the last song.
‘All you listen to is RnB. Doesn’t it get boring?’ he grumbles as I sing along obnoxiously loud, flexing my vocals by acing Summer’s runs. ‘Better than the music you listen to.’ ‘I listen to music by people that you’re friends with.’ ‘That’s beside the point. They might be my friends but I can acknowledge that their music is not good.’ ‘It’s not a flex to have no taste.’
‘I know you, a footballer, are not trying to tell me, a singer-songwriter, about music taste. I don’t try and tell you about… football stuff,’ I say pointedly, and he shoots me a side-eye. ‘Because you haven’t got a clue about football.’ ‘Neither do you but I don’t say shit,’ I say sweetly, getting a half-hearted dirty look in response.
‘What are we doing today?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You haven’t planned anything?’ I ask jokingly, and he doesn’t even dignify it with a response, both of us knowing fully well that I always plan our dates. ‘It’s Valentine’s next week. You have to plan that at least,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes at the reminder. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I’m sick of always planning our dates! You’re the boy. You should take responsibility for date planning, not me.’ ‘How feminist of you,’ he says sarcastically, and I scoff. ‘Feminism’s about choice, and I choose to be treated like a princess by my boyfriend.’ ‘Maybe you should find a real boyfriend instead then,’ he says dryly, and I let out an irritated huff.
Mason is my fake boyfriend – our agents work for the same company and thought it would be mutually beneficial for us to be in a PR relationship. For me, they thought dating Chelsea and England’s starboy would only boost me to higher levels of fame and introduce me and my music to an entirely new audience, and they were right – I never thought I’d have Chelsea fans asking me for photos outside Stamford Bridge before matches.
Mason, however, is getting a lot more out of this than I am. In the last year or so, he’s been getting a bit of a negative reputation – being pictured with influencer girlies, hanging with the wrong crowd, getting drunk a bit too often, not to mention the dip in his form on the pitch. His agent decided to find him a good, clean-cut girlfriend who would lead him back onto the straight and narrow, as well as help to change the minds of Chelsea fans who think he’s a lazy waste of space.
My reputation is perfect to improve Mason’s. I’ve never been involved in any kind of controversy and I’m always on my best behaviour when I’m out in public. On top of that, I went on a friend’s podcast about a year ago, and when the conversation turned to NDAs and celebrity flings, I confessed that I’ve never dated and I’m a virgin. All of a sudden, I became the nation’s sweet, pure and innocent sweetheart. I hate to benefit from the patriarchy but my virginal status has made me a supposed ‘good role model’ for the young girls of today, so my fanbase has increased drastically.
‘Maybe I will. Then you can kiss your improved reputation goodbye.’ ‘More than I can do to you. Maybe then I can find a less boring fake girlfriend. Someone who’s actually been touched by a man before,’ he says pointedly, bringing up the contract I made him sign despite his reluctance for the thousandth time.
Mason and I actually knew each other before this whole thing started – we ran in the same social circles, and we always got along relatively well. But, as soon as I laid out the rules about what he could and couldn’t do with me, things quickly went sour in our relationship.
Because the entire world thinks he’s dating me, he’s not allowed to flirt/date/kiss/sleep with any other girls – it would only tarnish his reputation even more if it got out, defeating the point of this relationship. I assume he thought I’d sleep with him (so that he’d still be getting some), so he didn’t take it well at all when I told him I didn’t even want him to kiss me, let alone sleep with me.
He thought I was being unreasonable, and that no one would believe we were together if there wasn’t any PDA, but I thought it was perfectly reasonable that I didn’t want to waste all my firsts on a fake boyfriend– I just about allowed him to hold my hand or put his hand on my lower back (not too low though). As time’s gone on, we’ve been getting along less and bickering more, so now he barely even does those things. It’s like he hates touching me – he practically jumps a mile in the air whenever our arms brush against each other. It doesn’t bother me much though – I’d much rather be touched by a man that actually wants to touch me.
‘You need to tell me what we’re doing so I know which way to go,’ he says, coming to a stop at a junction. ‘The Vault. I need to get my nails done, and do some shopping.’ ‘You’re having a laugh. You basically want me to be your taxi driver and bag-holder today. That’s not a date,’ he says, sounding outraged, and I roll my eyes. ‘We can go for dinner there too. And anyway, celeb couples always go shopping together,’ I say mildly, the boy still shaking his head despite how he takes the turning for the route to The Vault, a designer outlet around five minutes away from my house.
He drives in a stony silence but I don’t let his bad mood dampen my good one, still singing along to Summer Walker and watching the world pass us by out the window. This weather is still freezing at the moment but it’s a beautiful day regardless of the temperature. The sky’s a lovely clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and the sun is beating down brightly.
It’s not long until we arrive at the shopping centre, and Mason pulls up in front of the main entrance, both of us getting out of the car. Mason grabs a matching baby blue hoodie out of the boot before handing the valet the keys while I fix my skirt, making sure I look picture perfect.
He waits for me to join him, offering his hand reluctantly, and I take it, letting him lock his fingers with mine. We walk through the automatic doors into the warmth of The Vault, and I let out a happy sigh. I love this place so much – the fluffy carpets, comfy chaise lounge chairs and crystal chandeliers everywhere scream luxury.
‘Where to first?’ Mason asks, and I point towards the directory stand, the nail shop on the third floor. He leads me to the lift, letting me in first and pressing the buttons so I don’t have to get my hands dirty. He’s lacking in a lot of things, but he’s always a gentleman in public, and I appreciate it even if it is just for the eyes of everyone else.
When we enter the nail shop, whispers run around the room. It tends to be only rich people that shop at The Vault, but it’s not every day that two international stars walk in together. ‘y/n, darling! How are you?’ my nail tech asks, appearing from the back room to come and give me a hug. ‘I’m good, Christie. How are you?’ ‘I’m good, my love. So introduce me then,’ she prompts, not one for subtlety, and I cringe internally as I say, ‘this is my boyfriend, Mason. Mase, this is Christie, my nail tech.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ he says with a brilliant smile, his charming behaviour making me supress an eyeroll. I never get this charming side – he reserves it for everyone else, and I get the annoying dickhead side instead. ‘Such a good-looking boy,’ Christie says to me, and I force out a little laugh, making myself nod in agreement. ‘Not as good-looking as my girlfriend, though,’ he jokes naturally with a little smile at me, affection in his eyes, and I’m taken aback at how good his acting is.
‘Of course, of course. Now, come, let’s get started,’ Christie says, leading us to her table in the corner, everyone’s eyes following us across the room. I take a seat, hanging my bag on the chair, and Mason hovers awkwardly beside me. ‘Sit here, Mase,’ I say, motioning to the seat beside me, but he shakes his head. ‘I’m gonna do some shopping. I’ll be back in a bit,’ he says, and I feel a little bit guilty for dragging him here.
‘You can… go, if you want. I’ll get Isla to pick me up later,’ I say, but he waves it off immediately. ‘Nah, it’s fine, I don’t mind looking around the shops. I’ll be back soon, alright?’ he says, and I nod, mustering up a smile for him as he goes. The other girls in the shop watch him as he walks to the exit, sparking jealousy in me, followed by surprise at myself. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but the thought of these other girls fancying him makes me rage internally.
Christie starts removing my old set, distracting me as she chatters away about the latest drama in her tumultuous life. Last time I saw her, she was dating a Brighton player, but now apparently she’s moved on from him and she’s got a Kpop boy in her DMs. I get my nails done every three weeks, and she has a different love interest every single time.
Mason reappears when Christie’s painting gel polish onto my new set, a smile on his face when I meet his eyes. All the girls are watching him again but his eyes don’t stray from me, satisfaction filling me. Ogle him all you want, ladies, but he’s my fake boyfriend.
He has a Starbucks cup in his hand which he puts down on the table as he sits in the chair beside me. ‘An iced blonde caramel macchiato with soy milk and sugar-free syrup,’ he announces, and I can’t hold back my smile as I look at him in surprise. ‘You remembered my order?’ I ask, and he lets out a laugh. ‘Not off by heart. It’s in my notes app so I don’t have to ask you every time,’ he says, the truth touching me even more. He knew he won’t be able to remember so he made a note of it. It’s sweet.
‘You’re cute, Mount,’ I say affectionately, maybe giving him the first compliment since this relationship began. ‘You’re about to find me even cuter,’ he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bag of gourmet jelly beans that he must have gotten from Selfridges – their confectionary section is massive. ‘Mase,’ I say, dragging the word out in a way that makes him grin.
‘Thought you might want a snack, because you’ve probably only had fruit for breakfast,’ he says, knowing me so well, and I roll my eyes. ‘Yeah, because jelly beans are really gonna make up for a light breakfast.’ ‘Better than nothing.’ ‘I suppose. Thank you,’ I say, leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his cheek, the boy raising an eyebrow when I pull away. I only save cheek kisses for when he’s not being at all irritating, and he knows that. The smirk on his face clearly means he’s satisfied at being in my good books for once.
Christie has one of my hands in the UV nail lamp and the other in her hand, intricately painting on a heart, so I can’t pick up the drink. I lean towards it to try and take a sip but it’s a little too far away, and I don’t want to move too much for fear of getting told off by Christie (the woman doesn’t play). ‘Here,’ Mason says, lifting the cup and holding it to me. I take a long sip through the straw, our eyes locked together, and I feel weirdly shy under his gaze, dropping eye contact after a few moments. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused at my nerves.
Come on, bitch, pull yourself together. Don’t let Mason Mount get you flustered. ‘Want a jelly bean?’ he asks and I nod, Mason opening the packet and getting one out. I stick my tongue out, and he falters for a moment, victory filling me. He puts the jelly bean on my tongue, eyes on mine, and I take the jelly bean into my mouth, chewing it with a small smile, the boy rolling his eyes.
We go on like that while Christie does my nails, Mason feeding me jelly beans (whilst eating more than double the amount I do) and holding up my drink for me to have a sip every couple minutes, his phone in his hand as he scrolls distractedly through tiktok. We start an unspoken game, trying to get each flustered and seeing who can hold eye contact longer. I hate to admit it, but he’s definitely winning, and it really pisses me off.
Yes, I’m a virgin, but I still own and use my sexuality – I might know nothing about the actual act of sex but I know how to make a guy want it. Before I was with Mason, I’d get a kick out of leading on these rich and famous guys only to leave them hanging. Not over a long time, of course. Just for a couple hours at parties or in the club. There’s something so fun about letting a guy think he’s gonna get to take you home but leaving with your girls instead. It’s always the same, with prolonged eye contact, suggestive actions (putting on lipgloss or sipping a drink with puckered lips through a straw), and light physical contact. But Mason’s never fallen prey to any of that – he’s never tried it on with me.
I suppose it’s a good thing, because he’s really fucking annoying and I don’t want to sleep with him. We’re at a mutual agreement that this is nothing more than a fake relationship and all we have to do is tolerate each other, so it’d ruin that if either of us ever tried to make it something more. Not that either of us want to, of course. We literally can’t stand each other.
‘Shall I add his initials?’ Christie asks, breaking me out of my thoughts, and it takes me a moment to register her question. In that moment, Mason answers for me. ‘Yeah, add my initials,’ he grins, and I barely stop myself from shooting him a dirty look. ‘Shall I do it on your ring finger?’ she asks, and I cringe internally. I’m about to get the initials of a guy who doesn’t see me romantically painted on my ring finger nail. The finger I’m supposed to save for an engagement ring.
‘Um… do his initials on the right ring finger, and his number on the left ring finger. 19,’ I say – it doesn’t make much of a difference but it feels better than the other option. The base colour of my nails is nude, and the hearts are white and pink. Christie uses white to paint his number onto the pink heart on my left ring fingernail, and pink to paint his initials onto the white heart on my right ring fingernail. I hate to admit it but it looks really cute, and I get a warm feeling in my chest at having a boys’ initials on my nails, even if they are Mason’s.
‘Kimmy! Come and get some photos of her nails,’ Christie says, the social media girl rushing over with her phone. She has me putting my hands in different positions and angles, finally satisfied after five minutes of pictures and videos. Mason’s waiting for me beside the door with my bag and my drink in his hands, and I rush over, quickly saying goodbye to the other technicians.
‘£120, like usual?’ I ask Christie as I take my drink from Mason, the boy still holding my bag, and Christie shakes her head. ‘Your boyfriend paid already,’ she says before bidding me goodbye and disappearing off into the back. ‘You shouldn’t have p-’ ‘It’s fine. I made you get my initials so it’s only right,’ he says offhandedly, and I raise an eyebrow, a small smile on my lips. ‘It’s okay if you wanted to pay for them. You can just admit it,’ I joke, and he rolls his eyes.
‘It’s your Valentine’s present,’ he says, my jaw dropping. ‘You’d better be joking,’ I say threateningly, a small grin on his face. ‘I’m joking. I’ve already got your gifts, babe,’ he says easily, taking my hand into his, and I hear lots of ‘aww’s from the girls behind me. ‘Good,’ I reply sternly, letting him lead me out into the corridor, walking leisurely past the shops.
‘We actually do need to plan something for Valentine’s though,’ I say quietly once we’re out of earshot of anyone else, and he remains silent. ‘I know you’d rather not spend a random Tuesday night with me but it looks suspicious if we don’t do anything. And if we don’t plan something, our agents will, and their plans are always boring,’ I continue, met with even more silence. ‘Let’s not do the usual dinner and drinks. We could do an activity instead! Bowling is always cute. Or mini golf, even though I’m shit at it. Maybe even-’ ‘y/n,’ Mason cuts me off, hesitating to continue speaking before he sighs.
‘I’ve already planned Valentine’s,’ he admits, and I stare at him blankly for a long few moments. ‘What?’ ‘I’ve made plans for us already,’ he says, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I ask, and he sighs again. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. I heard you talking with Steph about how you’ve never done anything for Valentine’s with a boy, and I know you don’t want to waste all your firsts on a fake boyfriend, but we have to do something on Valentine’s anyway so I thought I’d make it special for you,’ he says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I feel myself melting inside. I think I might even cry.
‘That’s… really nice. Thanks, Mase,’ I say softly, and he just waves off my gratitude, clearly feeling awkward. ‘It’s alright. It was about time I planned a date anyway, so I thought I’d show you how it’s done,’ he jokes, and I shove him lightly, laughing. ‘The dates I plan are always fun!’ ‘Oh, yeah, this date has been really fun,’ he says drily, and I feel a bit sheepish at that. I wanted to piss him off but now I feel guilty.
‘Let’s just go then,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s fine. Do your shopping first.’ ‘It can wait. There’s nothing urgent I need to get,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Where are we gonna go instead?’ he asks, and I think it over for a moment. ‘Back to mine,’ I say, a smirk finding his lips.
‘Say less.’ ‘Don’t get any ideas,’ I warn, the boy chuckling. ‘What are we gonna do at yours then?’ ‘Valentine’s baking!’ I say excitedly, the boy staring at me deadpan. ‘Baking?’ ‘Yes. You’re always eating my baking so now’s your chance to make up for it and do some baking of your own.’ ‘I’m always eating your baking because that’s what you’re supposed to do with it. Not just let it sit in a jar on your counter until it goes off,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes.
‘Okay, fair point. But speaking of baking going off, those cookies are on their way out so they need replacing,’ I smile, and he just grumbles under his breath. ‘Fine, we’ll go back to your house and do baking, but you owe me a homecooked meal afterwards,’ he bargains. ‘Deal. What do you wanna eat?’ ‘You,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. ‘Other than me,’ I say, and he considers it for a second. ‘Tacos.’ ‘So me and tacos for dinner?’ I ask amusedly, and he laughs, pulling me into his arms. ‘Sounds perfect.’
‘Oh, my feet are killing me,’ I sigh as we walk through my front door, Mason letting go of my hand so I can sit on the bottom step of my staircase. ‘Sorry. I should’ve told you to wear more sensible footwear,’ Mason says as he locks the door after himself, and I shake my head. ‘It’s fine. I would’ve worn these anyway. They’re my V-Day boots!’ I say happily, clicking my heels together.
After finding out I had surprise plans for Valentine’s Day, I bought a new pair of boots for the occasion. I already had a pink mini dress in the exact same shade as the hearts on these white boots, and I was sold the second I saw that the heels are heart-shaped. Mason said it was a bit morbid that every step I took was stamping on hearts, but I thought it was cute.
We’ve been bickering and having stupid arguments all day but, overall, I’ve really enjoyed spending Valentine’s Day with him. He’s been irritating as usual, but he’s also been sweet and romantic as well, which was definitely surprising. I didn’t say anything about it though, because we’re in a good patch at the moment and I don’t want to ruin it.
After he paid for my Valentine’s nails the other day, we come back and baked some Valentine’s cupcakes and cookies. We filmed a vlog for my YouTube channel and Tiktok videos for both of our accounts, like we always do when we do stuff like this. The difference this time was the lack of acting – our affection, flirting and joking together was all real. We bickered, like we always do, but it was light-hearted, and he kept resolving it with stuffing chocolate in my mouth or pulling me into warm hugs.
After baking, I cooked chicken tacos and we sat together at the kitchen island to eat. We chatted idly as we ate, and he actually complimented my cooking. When he got a call from his parents saying they were on their way to his house, the night ended abruptly and, despite my disappointment, I was relieved. I’d felt myself starting to look at him differently and that scared the shit out of me, so I was happy to send him on his way with a box of cupcakes and cookies for his family.
We didn’t speak again after then until last night, when he messaged telling me to be ready for 10am. He showed up on time, with gifts too! I proudly put the bouquet of red and white roses into a vase as he watched with a satisfied grin, making sure to put the single pink rose in the middle. He also insisted on me opening the box of chocolates so I could try one, and it was the best chocolate I’ve ever had. I googled the brand, To-ak, and I couldn’t believe my eyes at the price. He spent £300 on a box of chocolates for me.
We started the day with breakfast at my favourite brunch spot in The Vault. We got one avo-and-egg on toast and one plate of berry pancakes, sharing both dishes like a real couple. Then he drove us into the city for bowling and mini golf – he said he wanted to burst out laughing when I mentioned both of those things at The Vault last week. He tried his best to coach me at both activities (and I had no complaints at his body pressed up behind mine as he guided my movements and held my hands) but he still managed to beat me at both. I didn’t mind though – I would’ve gotten the ick if my athletic fake boyfriend lost to me at bowling and mini golf.
Then we went for Afternoon Tea on Park Lane followed by watching A Midsummer Night’s Dream on the West End. Mason has no interest in theatre but he knows I love it so he sucked it up, and even bought us box tickets so we had a perfect view of the stage. I didn’t even realise I was starting to get cold until I’d shivered, and Mason took his jacket off to lay it across my lap before moving closer to me, wrapping an arm around me to keep me warm.
After the theatre, he took me to dinner at Le Gavroche, an expensive French restaurant. I was too fussy to eat most of the food but I was still more than happy to be there, sitting opposite a pretty boy in a fancy restaurant, flirting over champagne and French cheese. And he got me McDonald’s nuggets on the way home so I wouldn’t complain about being hungry.
Now we’re back at mine. I invited him in, without any reason as to why, but he accepted. We’ve both been so… lovey-dovey and cute today. It’s so weird actually getting along with him but it feels right at the same time, which is scary. Multiple times today, I’ve had to remind myself that our relationship is fake, feeling a jolt at the thought.
‘Who buys new shoes for Valentine’s Day?’ he asks amusedly. ‘Bad bitches,’ I say proudly before trying to take them off. With them being brand new, the zips are very stiff, and I’m holding them at a stupid angle because of my long nails. ‘Let me help,’ Mason laughs after a few seconds of watching me struggle, dropping to one knee and lifting his hands to the top of my left zip. His skin brushes against mine, the contact at my inner thigh making me shiver, and his eyes remain locked with mine as he undoes the zip, carefully pulling the boot off my foot and leaving me in my thigh high socks. He does the same with the other, the completely innocent act making my stomach clench.
He stands up, holding out a hand to help me up, and he keeps my hand in his as he leads me to the kitchen. ‘Don’t tell me you’re hungry,’ I tease, getting a look of feigned offence in response. He ate every last crumb on both of our plates and shared my nuggets with me in the car – the boy can eat but I’ll be shocked if he has any more room.
‘I’m thirsty,’ he says, letting go of my hand to get a glass out of the cupboard, about to pour himself some water. ‘Let’s have some wine,’ I say suddenly, Mason raising an amused eyebrow at me. ‘I have to drive home, and I’ve already at the limit with that champagne,’ he reminds me. ‘You can stay the night. I have a couple guest bedrooms you can choose from,’ I say quietly, his gaze warm on my skin as his grin grows.
‘Yeah?’ he asks, and I nod, struggling to keep eye contact with him, the butterflies in my stomach going wild. I wasn’t even propositioning him – I just thought it’d be nice to finish the day with late night chats over a glass of wine, not a quiet and empty house. ‘Okay, I’ll have some wine.’ ‘Which one do you want?’ I ask, opening my wine cupboard and moving aside to show him. ‘I want the one in the living room,’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Living room?’ ‘Yeah. There’s a bottle of wine in your living room,’ he repeats, and I frown. ‘What? Where?’ I ask, heading towards the living room.
I gasp when I spot the presents on the coffee table, looking back at Mason who grins at me. ‘You didn’t think I just got you flowers and chocolate, did you?’ he asks, looking very proud of himself, and I rush into the living room excitedly, wanting to see my gifts. I take a couple photos first, knowing I’ll want to remember this moment, and he just watches on with a self-satisfied grin. ‘Which one shall I open first?’ I ask, and he points to the bottle bag amusedly, both of us already knowing what it is after what he said.
I get through the gifts pretty quickly in my excitement, tearing the co-ordinated pink wrapping paper and being careful not to drop the confetti and the glitter in each gift bag on the floor. Every single gift is so me; the rosé wine, the pink crystal butterfly hairclips, the signed Summer Walker vinyls, the Huda Beauty pink eyeshadow palette, the pink lego flowers set and the dusty pink knee-high boots with my name printed on the soles. I never realised he knew me so well, but every single gift is perfect. The boots are even my size!
‘One left,’ he says, handing me a pink velvet jewellery box, and my eyes fill with tears before I even open it. ‘y/n, don’t cry!’ he exclaims, alarmed, and I blink back the tears quickly, opening the box with shaking hands. I gasp at the set inside, a hand over my mouth and my eyes wide. ‘It’s called pink sapphire, which I didn’t even know was a thing but, apparently, it is. It’s also custom so I can’t really return it, but I’ll just, like, give it to a charity auction or something if you don’t like it,’ he says, obviously nervous, and I shake my head.
‘I love it, Mason. It’s so beautiful,’ I whisper, already enamoured with the pink sapphire stones set into the pendant on the silver necklace, the silver tennis bracelet and the silver hoops. ‘That’s good then,’ he says, actually letting out a sigh of relief before he helps me put it all on, watching with an affectionate smile as I admire myself in my front camera.
‘This is all too much, Mason. It must have cost you a bomb,’ I say, and he waves off my concerns. ‘It’s fine. I fucked up your birthday so this is the least I could do,’ he says lightly, trying to sound casual, and I try not to laugh at the reminder of the half-dead bouquet of flowers and box of Thorntons chocolates he got for my birthday (I’m not one to sneer at Thorntons – chocolate is chocolate – but it was a Christmas box that was out of date by three years).
‘Well, I got you something too, but don’t get your hopes up too much. They’re not as good as what you’ve got me,’ I warn him, getting up and getting the gift box I hid in the corner of the room, a big grin on his face. Despite my warning, I already know he’s gonna love everything I’ve got him – I’m a very good gift buyer and I’ve been planning this for a while. I may or may not have also put in minimal effort for his birthday and felt bad about it, so I’m trying to make up for it with this.
He looks very happy with the black tracksuit I got from some streetwear brand that him and his friends are all obsessed with, and he’s even happier with the custom silver chain I got from one of my jeweller friends. But his favourite is the blue Van Cleef bracelet, even before he spots the letters of his name engraved on the inside of each clover.
‘You’re sweet,’ he grins, pulling me into his arms and kissing the top of my head, a warm feeling flooding through my body, my heart singing. ‘I’ll get some glasses for the wine,’ I say, rushing back into the kitchen and taking a few seconds to compose myself, staring at my reflection in the fridge.
I’m supposed to hate Mason, or strongly dislike him anyway. But we’ve been getting along, and maybe I don’t dislike him after having such a romantic day with him. Maybe I actually like him a little bit, even more after getting all those thoughtful gifts from him. And maybe he likes me as well. He knows me well, at least, and cared enough to plan a day he knew I’d love and buy me perfect gifts. And now we’re about to sit alone in my living room, drinking rosé wine late at night. This probably isn’t a good idea, but the desire pulsing through my body pushes the hesitation out of my mind.
I bring two wine glasses back into the living room, Mason popping the bottle open and pouring us two half glasses. We clink our glasses together and both take a sip before Mason lifts my legs across his lap, both of us comfortable on the sofa. I sip on my wine as Mason scrolls through Netflix to find something for us to watch, not able to settle on anything. I’m not at all helpful either – I’d much rather sit here and talk to him so I just keep making noncommittal noises when he asks what I want to watch.
‘I’ll put music on instead,’ he says, opening Spotify and clicking on My Mix, the playlist starting with Summer Walker. ‘Why am I not surprised?’ he chuckles, putting down the remote and finishing off his wine. ‘Aren’t you gonna complain and try to turn it off like usual?’ I ask, and he shrugs with a rueful smile. ‘Maybe her music’s growing on me,’ he admits, and I gasp excitedly. ‘Good! I’ll send you recommendations, and then you can start listening to SZA and Jhene after,’ I say, knowing it’ll annoy him if I make a big deal out of this, and he groans with a roll of his eyes, making me laugh.
‘I’m joking.’ ‘I know, but it’s even more annoying because I’ve already got SZA and Jhene on my Spotify because of you. All of your stuff is growing on me. RnB, The Vault, 90s romcoms, wine and champagne. I even like the colour pink now,’ he says lightly, one finger gently running across the thin strap of my dress, my shoulder tingling in the wake of his touch.
‘I’ve started liking your stuff too. I go to your football matches, and I actually enjoy watching them. I’ve started going to the weird bars you like, full of white people who think they’re cool. I listen to your favourite American rappers. And maybe the colour blue isn’t so bad,’ I say quietly, a little grin on his face.
‘It’s not a surprise, though. We’ve been seeing each other at least once a week since this relationship started nearly 11 months ago. That’s a lot of time to spend with someone. We were bound to rub off on each other,’ he says, and I nod in agreement. As much as we argue and haven’t been getting along for the majority of this relationship, our lives are so intertwined now. It feels wrong to say our relationship’s fake because we behave exactly like a couple. It’s more accurate to say it was a relationship without the feelings, but maybe that’s not even true anymore.
‘I never would’ve guessed you’d like romcoms though. Which ones are your favourites?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment. ‘I like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.’ ‘That’s only because you think Kate Hudson’s fit.’ ‘Says you, Matthew McConaughey’s biggest fan,’ he says pointedly, and I remain silent, knowing he’s right. ‘And I like 10 Things I Hate About You as well. But I think Clueless is my favourite,’ he grins, my heart melting. I’m the personification of the film Clueless, and we both know it.
‘Clueless, really? What do you like about Clueless?’ ‘I like Cher. She’s cute, stylish, funny, pretty, kind-hearted, and completely oblivious,’ he lists off, brushing my hair back with his hand, my heart fluttering. ‘Oblivious?’ ‘Well, maybe clueless is a better word,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes at the bad joke.
‘How is she clueless?’ ‘She’s so wrapped up in her own little world that those pretty brown eyes of hers can’t see how people feel about her,’ he says softly, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. ‘Cher’s eyes aren’t brown.’ ‘I’m not talking about Cher anymore, babe,’ he murmurs, our eyes locked together, my entire body alight with nerves. ‘What am I not seeing?’ I ask, his lips quirking up at the question. ‘You really can’t see how I feel about you?’ he asks, and I shake my head, heart hammering in my chest.
‘I tried my best not to feel any way about you, because I know you want a big romantic love-at-first-sight relationship and I didn’t wanna try and steal that away from you, but I can’t pretend anymore. Not after the nail shop last week. Sitting with a girl while she’s getting her nails done should be the most boring thing in the world, but I’d spend every day of my life feeding you jelly beans and macchiatos, and watching you smile at pink hearts on your nails. And I can’t even describe the feeling of seeing my initials and my number on your nails, your ring fingers. All I could think was that I want to put more than my number on this finger,’ he admits in a low voice, lifting my hand and touching my finger where I’d wear an engagement or wedding ring.
‘But I thought you hated me,’ I whisper, so overwhelmed by a trillion different emotions, and he lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at my hand in his. ‘I’ve never hated you, y/n. It was childish of me, I know, but we fell out at the start because you told me I couldn’t kiss you or touch you. If I hated you, why would I have a problem with that?’ he asks, and I could slap myself for not even thinking about that.
‘I thought you were just annoyed that you wouldn’t be able to kiss or touch anyone the whole time we’re together.’ ‘y/n, I’m not a sex addict or something. I can go without physical contact. It’s been difficult being around you so much and not being able to release my frustrations properly, but still,’ he says amusedly, and I feel my body warm up. With the combination of the wine and what he’s saying, I’ll end up letting him have his way with me tonight.
‘So you like me?’ I ask, and he laughs again. ‘That’s putting it a bit simply but, yeah. I do. I think you’re the most amazing girl in the world,’ he says simply, complete honesty in his eyes, and I’m silent for a long few moments, mind working at a million miles an hour. ‘If you like me back, this would be a really good time to say that,’ he says amusedly, and I let out a little laugh.
‘I think I like you too.’ ‘You think?’ ‘I don’t… these feelings are really unfamiliar to me. I’ve only ever had schoolgirl crushes on guys. I’ve never felt this way before. I get this tight feeling in my chest when I look at you. I like being around you, even when we’re arguing. I love that people know me as your girlfriend, and I love that girls can look at you but they know they can’t have you because you’re my boyfriend. I think you’re annoying and cocky but I like that you’re annoying and cocky,’ I say, my admission making him laugh.
‘That probably means you like me.’ ‘Yeah, but then… I like wearing your hoodies and jackets because they smell like you, and I get this funny feeling in my stomach at your scent. I pretend to get annoyed at your dirty jokes but I get butterflies whenever you say them. I always wear tight and tiny outfits around you, even when it’s freezing, because I want you to want me. And I can’t think straight when I watch you play football and you’re all angry and sweaty. So I don’t think saying that I like you really covers how I feel,’ I breathe out, his eyes darkening, lips parted in surprise.
‘That’s… fuck. How can you be hot and cute at the same time?’ he asks faintly, and he moves the hand that isn’t holding mine to rest on my bare thigh, between the top of my sock and the bottom of my mini dress. ‘Hot and cute?’ ‘Babe, you just admitted you’re sexually attracted to me in the most innocent way possible,’ he chuckles, fingers tracing patterns across my skin, the area between my legs throbbing with need.
‘Because I don’t… I’ve obviously been attracted to people before but never like this. Never enough to want to act on it,’ I say, the realisation dawning on us both a moment later. ‘You wanna act on it?’ he asks with a little grin, tips of his fingers toying with the hem of my dress. ‘Yeah, I guess. It’s just scary,’ I whisper, and he laughs softly.
‘You don’t have to be scared. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do or don’t feel comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything at all. I don’t expect us to go upstairs to your room now that we’ve had this conversation. It’s a big step,’ he says gently, making me want him even more.
‘What if I did want to go upstairs to my room though?’ I ask, biting down on one of my nails nervously, his eyes zoning in on my lips. ‘You know I wouldn’t say no.’ ‘Yeah, but, like… tell me what you’d do,’ I prompt, a smile playing at his lips.
‘I’d take it slow. I’d kiss you first, for as long as possible because I’ve waited for what feels like a lifetime. Then I’d undress you and kiss all over this perfect body. And then I’d put my fingers in you, nice and gentle so it doesn’t hurt, and I’d make it feel so good for you, babe. I’d stretch you out slow so I can hear all your pretty noises, and then I’d eat you out until you cum on my tongue. And then I’d fill you up with my cock bit by bit and I’d fuck you slow, babe. Have you moaning my name in my ear when you cum around me.’
By the end of his perfectly-woven story, my mind is completely blank and my underwear is soaked. It’s pretty much exactly what I’ve always wanted my first time to be like – the only thing missing from my fantasy is a view from the most expensive room at The Shard after a romantic dinner, but I wouldn’t trade my evening with Mason for that.
‘Okay,’ I whisper, Mason chuckling softly. ‘Yeah? Are you sure?’ he asks, and I nod nervously, my stomach doing flips. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he says, hand rubbing my leg soothingly, and I nod, trying to calm myself down. ‘Let me kiss you first,’ he murmurs, my heart skipping a beat. What if I’m a horrendous kisser and he gets the ick? Or what if I accidently bite him? Does my breath smell?
‘y/n, relax. It’s just a kiss, babe. You have kissed someone before, haven’t you?’ he asks, and I shake my head, his eyes widening in shock. ‘So I’m about to be your first kiss as well?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘That’s a lot of pressure, you know,’ he says with a small smile, lifting a hand to a lock of my hair, twirling it around his fingers. ‘It’s not. You could be a terrible kisser and I wouldn’t even know,’ I say, the boy laughing gently.
‘You’d be able to tell. Bad kissers are obvious.’ ‘And you’ve had your fair share of those?’ I ask, his gaze softening at the mild jealousy in my tone. The situation is obvious to both of us – he’s about to be my first everything, and I’m about to be just another in a long list for him. ‘I wouldn’t say fair share. A couple. But don’t think about them. I’m not thinking about them. I’m thinking about you only, babe,’ he whispers, our eyes locked together, and that’s all the reassurance I need.
‘Can I kiss you, y/n?’ he asks softly, and I nod, a small smile on his face. He begins to lean in, and my eyes flutter shut, my heart hammering in my chest as his lips gently brush against mine. He pulls back momentarily, as though he’s waiting to see if I’m still okay with it, and I feel myself leaning towards him, Mason letting out a chuckle as our lips meet again.
He slides his arms around me, lifting me up into his lap so he can pull me closer, his mouth pressing harder on mine, and I soften against him when he parts my lips with his.
It’s a tame and sweet kiss, one that makes the butterflies in my stomach melt into a puddle of want. His hands stay on my back, his lips gentle against mine, but I want more, need more from him. I adjust myself slightly on his lap, the movement making his breath catch in his throat, and the realisation that he’s getting hard beneath me only makes me even more desperate.
We break apart after a few moments, none of the panting and dark eyes I’d expect after a kiss, and I’m almost disappointed. I know he’s trying to be gentlemanly for my first time, but I don’t want him to be a gentleman now. I want him to do whatever he wants to me. I want him to enjoy this too.
‘Was that okay?’ he asks, and I nod after a split second of hesitation. He notices it, eyebrows furrowing in concern. ‘No, it wasn’t. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?’ he asks, and I shake my head, feeling embarrassed about being so desperate for him. ‘The last thing I want you to do is stop,’ I say quietly, the realisation on his face quickly followed by dark amusement.
‘What do you want me to do then, y/n?’ he grins, and I pout at him, hitting his chest lightly. ‘Don’t make me say it,’ I complain, the boy laughing. ‘How will I know if you don’t say it?’ ‘Mason.’ ‘y/n. You have to communicate with me, baby,’ he murmurs, eyes dark and big as he looks at me, and I let out a little sigh.
‘I want more. I don’t want you to hold back,’ I admit, and he shakes his head amusedly. ‘It’s your first time.’ ‘I know, but I want you to enjoy this as well.’ ‘I enjoy anything with you, babe,’ he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Don’t lie. That kiss was cute for a first kiss, but it must have been boring for you. I don’t want to bore you, Mase.’ ‘You don’t bore me. Babe, we’ve got all night for not-boring kisses. I just wanted your first one to be the perfect kiss that you probably always dreamed about,’ he says, a smile finding my face at that. He’s cute.
‘I don’t… how do I say this?’ I mutter, so embarrassed at the thought of what I’m about to admit, and he just waits patiently for me to speak. ‘I always dreamed of romance, yes. But I dreamed of it for dates and my wedding and holidays with my boyfriend. It was never something I dreamed about in the bedroom,’ I say quietly, and he tilts his head questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘The thought of romantic sex doesn’t…’ I trail off, the look in his eyes like he’s just stumbled across gold.
‘y/n, that’s… are you saying you’re into other things?’ he asks quietly, in complete shock, and I nod, feeling mortified at this conversation. ‘Like what?’ ‘Don’t make me say it, Mase,’ I whine, the boy laughing. ‘No, this is not what I expected from you at all. You have to say it otherwise I won’t believe it.’ ‘No, Mason. I can’t say it,’ I say firmly, knowing I’ll die of humiliation if he makes me say this out loud.
‘Fine, okay. I’ll ask then. Do you want it rough, y/n? Want me to use you to make myself feel good? Want me to kiss you and touch you and fuck you like a slut?’ he asks with a dark grin, my mind entering overdrive, my lack of response giving him the answer he was expecting. ‘My baby’s not so innocent after all then, is she?’ he asks lowly, hands tightening on my waist, pressing me down onto his lap. The friction makes me let out a soft sigh, his eyes darkening at the sound.
‘Fuck. This is… probably not a good idea. I can’t be rough with you for your first time. I don’t wanna hurt you.’ ‘You won’t. You’ll know better than I will what I can and can’t handle,’ I say quietly, and his lips quirk up amusedly. ‘You’ll be able to handle anything I give you, won’t you, baby?’ he murmurs, looking satisfied at the way I take a deep breath to pull myself together, my nod making him grin wider.
‘Gonna be a good girl for me?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Good. Don’t want to have to punish you, do we, babe?’ he asks, and I feel my heartrate speed up at the mention of punishment. ‘You want to be punished? Such a dirty girl, y/n. Want me to spread you over my lap and slap your perfect ass until you’re crying?’ he asks lowly, and I struggle to hold his gaze, the thought of it making my core ache.
‘Mase, please.’ ‘Please what, babe?’ he asks, and I don’t even really know what I’m asking for. ‘Kiss me again,’ I ask, one of his hands snaking up to the back of my neck, pulling my head closer to him so our lips can meet again.
He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, the kiss making my mind focus on nothing but him. I never could’ve dreamed that kissing would feel this good, his lips enveloping my mouth, his tongue sliding over mine. It’s passionate and deep and messy, and all I can’t think straight with his scent filling my senses, his soft hair between my fingers, and his hands sliding up and down my back.
His hands tighten at my waist again, guiding me to move forward on his lap, the movement making me let out a whimper against his lips. That must be his final straw because he breaks apart, both of us out of breath this time.
‘Am I a bad kisser?’ I ask, the boy laughing. ‘No, y/n. You’re perfect,’ he smiles, my heart fluttering. ‘Go upstairs for me, babe. I just need to grab something from my car,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow.
‘You’re not running away, are you?’ I ask suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘I’d have to either be gay or stupid if I decided to leave now,’ he says lightly, making me giggle. ‘I have condoms in my car. Unless you’ve got some?’ he asks, the situation suddenly feeling very real, my body humming with arousal.
‘I don’t. Do we need them though? I’m on birth control,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s not worth the risk. You’d probably be put off for life if you get pregnant from your first time,’ he says drily, making me laugh. ‘It’ll be fine.’ ‘Don’t tempt me, y/n. Seriously,’ he says warningly, and I gaze at him with big innocent eyes. ‘I wanna feel you though.’ ‘You will feel me, babe. You can’t even notice the condom,’ he says, trying to sound firm but I can tell he’s being swayed.
‘Fine, okay,’ I give in, the boy breathing a sigh of relief at me not trying to persuade him anymore. ‘Go upstairs for me, babe. I’ll be up in a minute,’ he says as I get off him, the boy following me out of the room. He slaps my ass lightly as I take the first step, and I can’t help but giggle to myself as I head upstairs.
I enter my bedroom, putting on some music through my speaker before tidying away all the stuff I left out while I was getting ready earlier. I can hear his footsteps on the stairs as I’m putting my straighteners away in my bathroom drawer, my stomach churning with nerves and excitement, the latter just about outweighing the former.
I step back into the bedroom to see him entering the room too, a smile on his face when he meets my eyes. ‘Are you still sure you wanna do this?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. Yes, this is scary, but I’m ready. I don’t want my first time to be with anyone but him. ‘Come here then,’ he grins, holding out a hand to me, and I cross the room to take it, letting him pull me against him.
Our lips meet in another pulse-racing kiss, his hands trailing all over my body as I grip onto his strong shoulders before snaking my hands up to tangle my fingers into his hair. My skin tingles in the wake of his touch, his needy hands squeezing my ass, pressing into my waist, sliding across my back, running through my hair.
His tongue slides across mine as he slips his fingers beneath the hem of my dress, slow on their journey up my legs, bringing my dress up with them. ‘Can I take this off you?’ he asks against my lips, and I hum out my permission. He doesn’t waste any more time, his fingers slipping the straps off my shoulders and pushing the material down my body, the dress landing in a pool at my feet.
He wraps his arms around me, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us towards the bed, putting me down gently. He looks down at me, pupils impossibly wide and dark as they trawl over my body, clad in just a lacy pink bra, matching pants and my thigh high white socks with little pink bows on them. I take the opportunity to admire him too. He’s in a pair of loose jeans and a soft blue jumper, a silver chain tucked into it. His hair’s all fluffy from me running my hands through it, and he looks more handsome than he’s ever looked in his life.
‘You’re so beautiful, y/n,’ he murmurs, climbing over me and capturing my lips in another kiss. He breaks the kiss quickly though, moving to press kisses along my jaw and down my neck. When he reaches my collarbone, I realise he’s kissing all over my body like he said he was going to. ‘Can I?’ he asks, hands slipping beneath my back, fingers on the clasp on my bra, and I nod. He expertly pops the clasp open, helping pull the straps down my arms.
‘I’ve always loved your boobs,’ he admits, my laugh cut off by a gasp when he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, the other breast in his hand, fingers roughly gripping the flesh. He switches to the other nipple, rolling the first between his fingers so as not to neglect it, and I feel my back arch at the sudden pleasurable shocks.
‘Does that feel good?’ he asks, words muffled by how they’re spoken around my nipple. ‘Mmm, so good,’ I whimper as he gropes and sucks on my boobs like a teen boy. I’d laugh if my mind wasn’t distracted with the intense pleasure.
He continues kissing down my stomach and, to my surprise, he leaves my pants on and skips the area entirely, kissing my thighs until he reaches the tops of my socks. ‘These fucking socks,’ he murmurs, pulling one of them away from my leg before letting go of it, the material slapping back against my skin. ‘You like them?’ ‘I fucking love them, baby. You look like such a cute little slut in them,’ he grins as he pushes my legs apart. I expect his eyes to focus in on my clothed core but he keeps his eyes on mine, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, little tingles running through me at the feeling of his lips somewhere so intimate.
‘Turn over for me, babe,’ he prompts and I do as he says, lying on my stomach. He moves my hair aside to kiss the back of my neck before moving down the line in the middle of my back. His journey to the dip just before my ass is slow, my heart suspended in anticipation. When he reaches my ass, he gently nips at one cheek before pressing soothing kisses in the same place, a blissful sigh escaping my lips.
The sound seems to knock him out a reverie, the boy turning me onto my back and hovering over me to kiss me again. He keeps himself elevated leaning on one forearm, the other hand pressing into the curve of my waist. I let my hands rest on either side of his face, his beard soft against my skin as our lips move in sync, tongues clashing messily. Nothing about this kiss meets the expectations for a first time, but it’s exactly what I want.
He turns us over, my body weight resting on top of his, and his hands instantly slide down to my ass, gripping it tightly before slapping it, the sound loud in the room. I giggle into our kiss, his lips curling up at the sound as he brings his hands up my body, a shiver running through me at the feeling of his fingers gliding across my bare skin.
I break apart from him after a moment, sitting just below his stomach with my legs straddling him. He looks up at me in awe, trying his best not to stare at my bare chest right in front of him. I slip my fingers beneath his jumper, feeling his warm skin, and he sits up so I can take it off him, bringing up the t-shirt underneath with it, leaving his top half bare. I’ve seen him shirtless a couple times but never so close like this, and I let my hands explore his torso, up and down over the contours of his muscles.
‘My girls would kill me if they knew we were doing this,’ I admit distractedly, eyes focused on his abs. ‘Why? Because they hate me?’ he asks, leaning back on his elbows with a cocky grin, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Why do you get such a kick out of the fact my friends hate you?’ ‘Because they’re the closest people to you, and they’re probably always telling you that I’m not shit and you need to get your agent to end the relationship, but look at us,’ he says proudly, and I roll my eyes amusedly.
‘Well, that’s not the only reason they’d kill me.’ ‘Why then?’ ‘They’re always telling me I should sell my virginity,’ I tell him, tracing my nails over the lines of his abs. ‘Sell it? You’re not a prostitute.’ ‘I know, but I could get a good few million for it from some rich middle-aged business man,’ I say, and he just raises an eyebrow.
‘We could make a few million other ways,’ he murmurs, hands resting on my waist. ‘How?’ ‘We could make a porno,’ he grins, my core pulsing at the thought. ‘A porno?’ ‘Yeah. Your pretty face and pretty body and pretty noises in a sextape would make us more than a few millions. And I bet your pretty tits, pretty ass and pretty pussy would make us billions, baby,’ he smirks, pulling me close for another kiss, arousal flooding through my body. He hasn’t even seen me fully naked yet but he’s so firm about the attractiveness of my body – it definitely gives me a confidence boost.
The aching between my legs is too much, and I find myself pressing down onto him to relieve it. He tenses beneath me, clearly just as worked up as me with the way he grips onto my hips, controlling my movements so I’m grinding down onto him, both of us breathless. Gentle waves of pleasure roll through my body, my lips letting out quiet sighs against his mouth.
‘Does that feel good, babe?’ he asks, breaking away from me and kissing along my jaw. I let out an ‘mmm’ sound which he takes as an answer, lips lifting up into a grin against my skin before he nips at it, the pleasurable pain making me whimper. ‘Fuck, you sound so pretty,’ he mumbles into my neck, still rocking my body against his.
‘Can I ask you something? A personal question?’ he asks, and I sit up after a moment, feeling nervous as I nod. ‘What have you actually done? Sexually? Because I know you’re a virgin but I’d assumed that you’d kissed someone before, so maybe my assumptions are all wrong,’ he says, and a small smile finds my lips at the question.
‘I haven’t done anything. You’re the first person to kiss me and touch me and see me like this,’ I say, a tiny smirk on his face. ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘What about what you’ve done? Have you ever touched yourself, babe?’ he asks, and I avoid his gaze, feeling a little bit of embarrassment unfurling in my chest. ‘I tried, once.’ ‘Why only once?’ ‘It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like anything, really. So I just never tried again,’ I admit, the boy grinning.
‘So you’ve never had an orgasm before?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Good. I’ll make your first one amazing, babe, I promise,’ he murmurs, pulling me down for a brief kiss before lifting me off him. He gets up off the bed, about to take his jeans off, but I grab his hands to stop him.
‘Let me,’ I breathe out, kneeling at the edge of the bed and looking up at him as I flick his jeans button open. He watches how I pull the zip down before bunching the material in my hands, slowly pulling it down his legs, leaving him in just his Calvin Kleins, his boner right in front of my face. My curiosity gets the best of me and I palm his cock through his boxers, the groan he lets out making my pants flood.
‘Fuck, baby, don’t. I’m gonna end up cumming in my fucking boxers like I’m the virgin here,’ he warns me, making me laugh. He moves my pillows aside, sitting at the top of the bed with his back against the headboard, and he pats the bed between his legs, motioning for me to sit there. I crawl up the bed, sitting with my back against his front, my body enveloped by his.
I rest my hands on his thighs as he snakes his arms around me, his lips landing on my neck. I tilt my head to allow him better access, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kisses, and his hands slide down my stomach and under my legs. He pulls my legs up to bend at the knees before slipping his hands between my thighs, parting them.
‘Shall we come up with a safe word for you, babe?’ he asks against my skin, and I nod. ‘Think of one,’ he prompts, and I wrack my brains. ‘Clueless?’ I suggest, the boy chuckling, his warm breath fanning across my bare shoulder. ‘So you’ll say ‘clueless’ if you need me to stop, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Good girl,’ he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.
‘Make sure you tell me if you want me to stop,’ he reminds me as his hand slips down between my legs, fingertips gliding across my saturated underwear, making me shiver in his arms. ‘Fuck, you’re so wet, babe,’ he whispers, my breaths already becoming shaky with his finger gently running up and down my pants. He doesn’t waste much time before sliding his hand beneath my underwear, ending his teasing quickly which I’m grateful for. His fingers glide lightly across my wet folds and he quickly finds my clit, fingers pressing against the bud. I let out a high-pitched whimper, head falling back against him and he lets out a gentle chuckle.
‘Does that feel good, baby?’ he asks as he rubs at my clit in slow circles, and I nod, exhilaration filling me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, my body humming with desire and pleasure, soft breaths escaping my lips.
He pulls my pants aside to exposing my glistening core to the cool air of the room, a shudder running through me. ‘Ready?’ he murmurs, and I nod. He slides a finger in slowly, my body reacting to the unfamiliar intrusion by clenching my walls around him, and he doesn’t move at all for a few moments, letting me getting used to the unusual feeling.
‘Does it hurt?’ he asks, pressing soothing kisses to my neck again, and I shake my head. ‘Just feels a bit weird,’ I reply, feeling his laugh against my skin. ‘You’re so tight, baby. Can’t wait to stretch you out, make you feel so good, y/n,’ he whispers, starting to slowly move his finger back and forth.
The feeling soon starts to become pleasurable rather than weird, my walls not clenching as hard around his finger, and he takes advantage of it, sliding in another finger with the first.
‘Mase,’ I whisper softly. ‘Too much?’ he asks, and I give my body a few moments to get used to the feeling before shaking my head. ‘Such a good girl for me, babe,’ he murmurs, slowly thrusting his fingers into me, letting my body get accustomed to the burning stretch. My eyes fall shut, arousal gushing out onto his hand, causing faint wet sounds that make my skin heat up.
‘Feels good?’ ‘So good,’ I whimper softly, nails digging into his strong thighs as he curls his fingers inside me. The intense pleasure makes me clamp my thighs shut around his hand, the boy chuckling softly. ‘You can take it, babe, come on,’ he says soothingly as he pushes my legs apart again, hooking one leg with his own to keep it restrained from meeting the other.
‘You’re so sensitive, baby,’ he says amusedly, curling his fingers again and brushing a spot inside me that makes me whine pathetically. And then he begins to rub his palm against my clit with each movement of his hand, my head falling back onto his shoulder and my back arching, a quiet moan escaping my lips.
My body squirms between his legs, but he holds me firmly in place and keeps my legs apart, fingers continuing to thrust into me at a gradually quickening pace, whine after whimper slipping out from my lips as Mason whispers filth into my ear, making me lose my mind.
‘Look at you, babe. Grinding on my hand. Does it feel good, baby?’ he asks cockily and, sure enough, when I force myself to open my eyes, I see that I’m grinding against his fingers unconsciously, each movement of my hips resulting in his hand brushing my clit and sending a gentle wave of pleasure through me.
‘So good, Mase,’ I moan softly, the boy cursing at the sound, kissing and biting at my neck to leave marks, making my eyes flutter shut once again. ‘You sound so pretty for me, babe. So pretty. Gonna make you feel so good,’ he whispers against my skin, but the words barely register, my focus on the unfamiliar feeling of my stomach tightening.
‘Mase, I think I’m close,’ I say breathlessly, and he lets out a gentle laugh against my neck. ‘I know, babe, I can feel it.’ ‘I didn’t think… girls really cum from their first time,’ I say, words broken up with a moan prompted from his fingers spreading apart to open me up. ‘Girls don’t cum from their first time if the person they’re with is shit as sex. Lucky for you…’ he grins against my skin, thumb pressing onto my clit, and I let out a loud moan, the boy groaning at the noise.
‘Fuck, I need to taste you,’ he says, sliding his fingers out of me and lifting them to his mouth, licking my arousal off his skin. ‘Mmm, you taste so good,’ he says appreciatively, satisfaction filling me. I’m glad to hear my vagina’s to his taste.
‘Lie back for me, babe,’ he says gently as he gets up, moving to lie on his stomach further down the bed. I rest my head on one of the pillows, looking down at him as his hands slide up my legs, fingers hooking around the waistband of my pants. ‘Can I?’ he asks, and I nod, the boy slowly pulling the material down my legs before throwing it over his shoulder.
He pushes my legs apart slowly, revealing my soaking wet core to him, and his lips part in disbelief, eyes darkening as they focus between my legs. ‘Fuck. Such a pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me,’ he murmurs, collecting up my wetness with two fingers, the contact making me clench. He lifts his fingers to my lips this time, and I open my mouth, taking in his fingers and tasting myself on them.
‘Doesn’t your pussy taste so good, babe?’ he grins as I lick his fingers clean of my own arousal, and I nod, feeling even wetter at how dirty he is. ‘Could eat you all night,’ he says, wrapping his arms around my legs to lift them over his shoulders, pulling me close so his face is mere millimetres from my core.
He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he presses his tongue flat against my folds before swiping it upwards, a soft moan escaping my lips. He starts with slow and gentle licks across my folds, the steady stimulation making my brain fuzzy with pleasure, but he can’t keep himself controlled for very long. He pushes his finger into me again, my walls clamping down at the suddenness of it as I gasp, the slight pain soothed by his tongue flicking across my clit.
The sensation is so foreign but so good – he alternates between thrusting a finger into me whilst sucking at my clit, and poking his tongue between my folds whilst drawing slow circles on my clit with his thumb. I grip onto his locks, my high-pitched whimpers becoming more frequent, and I can’t decide whether I want to pull him closer or push him away, not sure whether it’s not enough or too much.
He decides for me, pulling me so close I’m surprised he can breathe. He begins practically making out with my pussy, the loud slurping sounds so obscene and crude that it only makes me wetter, my moans more and more desperate with every movement of his lips. His nose nuzzles against my clit as he eats me out, the irregular waves of pleasure sending my body into overdrive, the knot getting tighter and tighter as I squirm beneath him. He tries to keep me still with one forearm pressed down across my stomach, the other hand squeezing my boob and tugging gently at my nipple.
‘I’m think I’m gonna…’ I breathe out between moans, clenching sporadically as my body twitches, and I can feel him grinning against my folds. He replaces his mouth with two fingers pushing into me, thrusting into me fast and hard.
‘Gonna cum for me, y/n? It’s gonna feel so good, baby, just let go. Cum for me, babe,’ he murmurs softly, voice just about discernible over my loud moaning, and when he flicks his tongue across my clit before sucking it into his mouth as he curls his fingers inside me, I feel the knot in my stomach undo itself.
I cry out his name as my vision blurs, walls clenching around his fingers and holding them in place with an iron-like grip, thighs closing around his head. He works me through my orgasm with sucking gently on my clit, his free hand groping my boob, providing me with a gentle bliss in comparison to the intense pleasure burning low in my stomach.
When I feel myself coming back down from my high, I let out a sigh, body relaxing into the bed, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of me, a shiver racking through me. I just about manage to lift my head to watch as he lifts his hand to his mouth, slipping the fingers covered in my cum between his lips, eyes closing as he lets out an appreciative groan.
‘You did so good for me, babe. Such a good girl, took it so well for me,’ he praises as he moves back up the bed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his body. I feel something very stiff poking into my hip, getting wet again already at how hard he is.
‘How did that feel?’ he asks with his lips pressed against my forehead. ‘Good.’ ‘Just good?’ he chuckles, and I laugh. ‘Yeah. I’d be exaggerating if I said anything else,’ I joke, and he tilts my head up so our eyes meet, his eyebrow raising. ‘Your moaning said otherwise, babe,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. He starts mocking my sounds and I hit him gently, hiding my head in his shoulder out of embarrassment.
‘I’m joking, I’m joking. It was sexy, y/n. Nothing’s ever turned me on more. You can feel the proof of that,’ he says drily, and I laugh softly, looking down at the tent in his Calvins. The thought that I caused that gives me a little thrill. I trace my finger down his v-line slowly, stopping when I reach the waistband of his underwear.
‘Can I?’ I ask, looking up at him, and he nods with a small grin. I slip my hand beneath the waistband, taking his cock into my hand, the thick and heavy weight so unfamiliar to me. I gently tug on it out of curiosity, watching his face for his reaction, and his eyes flutter shut, veins protruding from his neck. I move my hand up to the tip, feeling pre-cum leaking out, and I lift my hand to my mouth to taste it, the boy watching me with dark eyes.
‘Fuck, you’re a dirty little slut, babe,’ he murmurs as the subtly salty taste coats my tongue. ‘Tastes bad, doesn’t it?’ he asks amusedly, and I laugh. ‘Not bad. Just… not good either,’ I admit, the boy chuckling. ‘I’ll start drinking pineapple juice every day, just for you,’ he promises with a grin, and I clutch my heart, pretending I’m honoured.
‘How long’s it been since you last had sex?’ I ask after a few seconds of silence, my fingertips tracing his muscles again. ‘Since before our relationship started. Probably a couple days before we signed the contract. I don’t remember exactly,’ he admits, and I nod, processing the information.
‘So you must be really worked up then,’ I say, looking up at him, and he laughs softly. ‘I’m worked up, but it’s because you’re lying next to me naked and looking at me with your big eyes,’ he says with a small smile. ‘Surely the amount of time has an effect as well?’ ‘Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve… been frustrated for 11 months,’ he says, and I realise belatedly what he means.
‘Oh. You mean you’ve masturbated?’ I ask, the boy laughing, probably at how innocent of a question it was. I should’ve known really – he wouldn’t have gone nearly a year without an orgasm. ‘Yes, babe, I have. Regularly. It’s good for you,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘That’s why you do it?’ ‘Well… no.’ ‘Why then?’ ‘The reason anyone masturbates. To keep myself… satisfied when I’m frustrated but can’t get any,’ he says, and I don’t reply for a few moments.
‘Do you watch porn when you do it?’ I ask out of curiosity, an amused smile on his lips at my innocent questioning. ‘Sometimes.’ ‘Why only sometimes?’ I ask, and he hesitates to speak. ‘My answer might make you uncomfortable.’ ‘It won’t,’ I say firmly, part of me already knowing what he’s going to say, desperate to hear it out loud.
‘The other times, I think of you. I’d go home hard almost every time I saw you, whether it was our good days or our bad days. Making you happy turns me on. Arguing with you turns me on. You smiling at me, rolling your eyes at me, saying my name nicely or not-so-nicely. All of it turns me on. Every single thing about you is so sexy to me, y/n, and just being in your presence makes me want you so much,’ he says quietly, my entire body burning with longing for him, satisfaction settling in my heart at hearing how much he’s attracted to me.
‘If you had to name one thing about me that turns you on the most, what would it be? Just for future reference,’ I say, unable to hold back my smile, and he laughs, the smile on his face so beautiful that my heart aches. ‘I can’t name one thing, babe. It’s everything about you. But… I do love seeing you in a Chelsea shirt with my name on the back,’ he admits, and I wait for him to elaborate.
‘I’m possessive, so I love seeing my name on you and knowing that any guy that looks at you will see it. They can look at how beautiful you are, but they can’t touch because you’re mine,’ he says, my butterflies going wild at hearing him claim me. ‘And I’d think of fucking you from behind while you’re wearing it and seeing my name on your back,’ he adds on shamelessly, my stomach turning with desire. Now that he’s said it, I want him to do just that after his next match.
‘Sorry. That was too much,’ he says, thinking I’m silent because I’m uncomfortable, and I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t. It makes me feel good that you want me,’ I say, a small grin on his lips. ‘Seems like I’m good at making you feel good,’ he smirks, the double entendre not going unnoticed, and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a smile.
‘You’re far too confident for a guy that hasn’t actually fucked me yet,’ I say pointedly, his eyes widening. ‘You really don’t want a gentleman, do you? I was just giving you a chance to recover from your first ever orgasm before I give you another one,’ he mutters amusedly. ‘Wasn’t much to recover from,’ I joke, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Your thighs trying to crush my head said different, babe. So did your pussy trying to break my finger,’ he reminds me, and I fall silent, not able to come up with a retort.
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,’ he chuckles, getting up from the bed and picking up his jeans. I panic for a second, thinking he’s about to go, but he just gets a condom out of the pocket. ‘Are you sure you still want me to fuck you, babe? You can tell me if you’re tired or not ready or you just don’t want to,’ he says softly, and I shake my head. ‘I still want you, Mase,’ I say quietly, crawling to the edge of the bed beside where he stands, taking one of his hands into mine and pulling him close.
‘But I want you raw,’ I whisper, taking the condom out of his hand, and he lets out a little sigh. ‘y/n-’ ‘Please. I want you to cum in me,’ I say softly, looking up at him through my lashes, and he groans. ‘Fuck, y/n, don’t say that.’ ‘It’s true, though. I want it in me, not in a condom.’
‘And what if you get pregnant?’ ‘I won’t, I’m on the pill!’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Is it 100% effective?’ ‘Well… no, but Isla and Steph are both on it and they’ve never gotten pregnant,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘So just because they have sex without condoms, you want to as well?’ ‘No, I want to because I want to feel you, without anything separating us, and I want you to cum inside me,’ I say, and he looks skywards like he needs help from God to have this conversation with me.
‘If you really don’t want to, that’s fine. But-’ ‘No, I want to. I just don’t want to risk anything happening to you,’ he murmurs, lifting a hand to caress my face gently. ‘Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m consistent with the pill, so I won’t get pregnant. And you’re clean, right?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘So it’s gonna be fine then. Please, Masey,’ I say with a pout, and he finally gives in.
‘Okay, fine. If my dirty girl wants it raw, that’s what she’ll get,’ he grins, my core throbbing at the thought of him cumming inside me. ‘Lie back for me,’ he instructs and I do as he says, on full display for him, his eyes trawling over my body appreciatively. ‘You’re so perfect, baby,’ he praises, taking his boxers off, and my heart pounds at the sight of him stood there in all his glory. Flawlessly toned body, dark ink on fair skin, and a cock that makes my pussy wet.
‘That’s… not gonna fit in me,’ I breathe out, the boy laughing as he climbs over me, his lips meeting mine in soft kiss. ‘It will, babe.’ ‘Will it hurt?’ I ask nervously, and he doesn’t answer for a moment. ‘Maybe. But we’ll go slowly, and I’ll stop if you ask me to. Okay?’ he murmurs, and I nod, taking a deep breath to try and calm myself.
He kisses me again, turning us over so my body weight rests entirely on him, his hands trailing up and down my body. We both gradually get more and more worked up, moaning against each other’s mouths, our hands fervent and desperate on each other. My core is impossibly wet, my arousal soaking his skin too, and when he reaches a hand between my legs, slipping his finger between my folds, a pornographic moan escapes my lips, the boy groaning at the noise.
‘You’re definitely wet enough. Are you still sure you want this?’ ‘Yes, Mase, please. Need you to fuck me,’ I murmur against his neck, the boy wasting no time in turning us over, on his knees between my legs. He runs the tip up and down my folds, soaking his cock in my arousal, and my walls clench around nothing, desperate to feel him inside.
‘What’s your safe word?’ he tests me. ‘Clueless.’ ‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, the praise making me smile to myself, and I watch as he pumps his cock a couple times, his eyes fluttering shut at the stimulation. He’s so fucking sexy – just the sight of him like this makes me feel like I could cum.
‘Legs around my waist, babe,’ he says as he moves to hover over me, and I wrap my legs around him, hooking them together at the ankles. ‘Ready?’ he asks, and I nod, heart warm at the gentle kiss he presses to my lips.
I feel the head of his cock running along my folds again before he starts to push inside me. The pain of the stretch catches me off guard – I didn’t expect it to hurt like this – and I gasp, my entire body tensing. ‘Hurts?’ ‘Mmhmm,’ I squeak out, gripping on to his shoulders, and he leans down to press comforting kisses to my jaw. ‘Shall I stop?’ he asks against my skin, and I shake my head. It hurts but I still want him.
‘The tip’s usually the worst bit and that’s nearly in. You’re doing so well,’ he whispers soothingly, pushing further in bit by bit, the pain throbbing between my legs. He keeps whispering praise and encouragement in my ear, telling me I’m taking him so well and I’m being such a good girl for him, and it makes me even wetter, letting him push in all the way with less and less pain.
‘Well done, babe, you did so well,’ he says softly once he’s all the way in, kissing me sweetly as my body tries to get used to the unfamiliar intrusion. Despite my best efforts to keep my body relaxed, my walls keep clenching around him, as though they’re trying to force him out.
‘I know you don’t mean to, but- fuck. Your clenching is not doing me any favours,’ he murmurs with his head buried in my neck, and I try my best to stop, feeling bad for him. He hasn’t had sex for almost a year and now that he’s finally in me, he’s staying still so he can let me adjust. This is probably torture for him.
‘You know you’re the first girl that I’ve not used a condom with?’ he says against my skin, my heart singing at the news that I am one of his firsts after all. ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah. And I hope to God that you decide to keep me around after tonight, because I cannot go back to condoms after being in you raw and you’re the only person I trust to fuck without one,’ he admits, the butterflies going wild again.
‘Of course I’m gonna keep you around. Our contract doesn’t expire for another month yet,’ I joke, the boy laughing against my neck, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘What about after that? Will you sign the renewal?’ ‘Will you?’ I ask, wanting to hear his answer first. ‘I’d rather have a real relationship with you instead,’ he says, a happy sigh escaping my lips, the sound making him laugh.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asks, and I realise that the conversation distracted me from the uncomfortable feeling from before. Now my body’s already become accustomed to him inside me. It doesn’t hurt anymore – I just feel full.
‘I feel okay. You can move now,’ I say, and he lifts his head up to meet my eyes. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Mmhmm. I’m ready,’ I breathe out, kissing him again. ‘I’m warning you, though, babe. I don’t think I’m gonna last very long.’ ‘That’s okay, Mase.’ ‘No, but seriously. I might cum before you.’ ‘It’s fine, Mason, don’t worry. I’m not gonna get pissed off at you for cumming first,’ I laugh, the boy nodding with a small smile.
He starts moving, slowly pulling partway out before pushing back in gently, both of us sharply intaking breath at the feeling. It’s weird at first, and a little bit painful, but as his pace becomes more steady and his thrusts become more forceful, the pain ebbs away into pleasure.
‘Does it feel good?’ ‘Feels so good, Mase,’ I whimper, his skin so hot against mine, hands pressing into the bed on either side of my head. ‘Fuck, you’re so tight, babe,’ he curses, and it really does feel like he’s just about fitting in me, cock dragging against my walls and sending blissful waves of pleasure through me.
I can feel the way he’s restraining himself from pounding into me the way he must want to, instead rolling his hips against mine in slow and shallow thrusts, body moving against my clit, making me clench around him unintentionally.
‘Babe, you really need to stop clenching before I cum,’ he warns me, and I widen my eyes innocently. ‘I’m not doing it on purpose, Mase. I can’t help it. Just love how you feel inside me,’ I murmur, the boy groaning as his dick twitches.
‘Fuck, I’m so close,’ he murmurs, the whiny tone of his voice making me gush around him, and I decide I need him to cum in me right now. I dig my heels into his back as he thrusts into me, keeping him buried deep inside, and I clench around him, pulling his head down so I can whisper in his ear.
‘Cum for me, Mase. Wanna feel your cum in me,’ I breathe out against his ear, and it pushes him over the edge, the boy letting out a moan into my neck as he hits his high, his cock pulsing in me as he cums, his release deep in me. He lets out heavy breaths and gentle grunts, lifting his head up and pressing a kiss to my lips once he’s done.
‘I’ve never cum that quick in my life.’ ‘Yeah, right. Starting to think you’re a two-pump chump,’ I tease, his mouth dropping open. ‘It’s nearly been a year-’ ‘I know, I’m joking,’ I laugh, kissing him again. We’ve kissed so many times tonight but every single one feels like a first kiss, filling my body with so much happiness.
‘Did I hurt you?’ ‘It hurt a bit at the start but then it felt good,’ I say shyly, Mason grinning. I can feel his cock softening inside me, not stretching me out so much now. ‘If you ever let me fuck you again, I promise I’ll make you cum first,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Well, as it stands, there’s not much making me want to sleep with you again,’ I joke, Mason rolling his eyes.
‘You’re never gonna move on from this, are you?’ ‘Nope. You’ll be hearing about it for the rest of your life.’ ‘Rest of my life? Who says I wanna keep you around that long?’ ‘Things in your life clearly don’t last very long then,’ I fire back, Mason bursting into laughter, prompting me to laugh too. Sex always felt so scary to me, so serious and real, but this has been perfect, with all the laughing and joking and tenderness.
‘You still want me to fuck you?’ ‘Can you?’ ‘Yeah, I’ll get hard again in a couple minutes.’ ‘That quickly?’ I ask in surprise, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m in bed with the sexiest girl on Earth, and she’s naked and has my cock in her. I’m surprised I’m not already hard again,’ he says as though it’s obvious, my heart melting at hearing him compliment me again. I don’t think I’ll ever doubt myself again after this.
‘I do still want you to fuck me. I… don’t want today to be over yet. It’s been perfect,’ I say, the boy smiling softly. ‘I’d make every single day like this for you if you asked for it,’ he says, and even though it’d never be possible, he says it with complete sincerity, as though he really would want to. ‘You don’t have to take me on the best date ever and buy me lavish presents every day. But this part would be nice to do every day,’ I say coyly, Mason laughing gently.
‘Okay, babe. I’ll fuck you every day if that’s what you want,’ he promises me, and I feel myself getting wetter at the thought of him coming home to me waiting for him to fuck me. ‘Is that what my dirty girl wants?’ he asks, hand tightening on my jaw, holding my head in place so he can stare deep into my eyes, and I just about manage to nod in his tight grip. He’s giving me whiplash with the way he’s switching the mood.
‘Want me to come home to you and fuck you after you’ve been waiting all day? Because you know I would, baby. If you’re in the kitchen baking me something sweet, I’ll lie you across the counter and eat something even sweeter. If you’re watching TV in the living room, I’ll slip my fingers into your pants and make you cum all over my hand like a good little slut. If you’re in the dance studio, I’ll bend you over in front of the mirror so you can watch how pretty you look with my cock in you. If you’re recording, I’ll sit you on my cock and record all your pretty moans so you can listen to them when I’m away and remember how good I make you feel. I’ll fuck you after my matches and after your shows when we’re both all worked up and desperate for each other. I’ll fuck you with my fingers in the car after our dates, and then I’ll flip up your skirt as soon as we’re inside and fuck you against the front door. I’m yours now, babe, and you can have me whenever and wherever,’ he says lowly as he kisses along my jaw, his words making me moan softly. The thought of having him in all those different ways sends a fresh wave of arousal through me – I want him in every single one of those situations and my life won’t be complete if I don’t get it.
‘Want me to fuck my cum back into you?’ ‘Please fuck me, Mase. I need it,’ I beg pathetically, the boy grinning against my skin. He sits up on his knees again, pulling out of me and focusing his eyes between my legs. I can feel his cum dripping out of me a few moments later, his eyes darkening and smirk growing at the sight. I reach down and scoop some of it up, lifting my hand to my mouth and swiping my tongue across one fingertip, able to taste both of us. He watches me with a heavy focus, so I decide to help him along to getting hard again.
I reach my hand back down, his cum still on my fingers, and I think about pushing it back into me, but my nails are too long for me to put my fingers inside myself, so I rub it across my clit instead. I curse under my breath, keeping my eyes on his face as I smear his release across my folds and my clit, rolling my hips to meet the movements of my hand. He looks desperate for me, eyes so dark they’re almost black and lips parted to let out heavy breaths.
‘You’re so fucking hot, babe, oh, my God,’ he groans, hand fisting his cock, and he’s already hard again, abs clenching at the stimulation he’s giving himself. ‘Mase, fuck me, please,’ I whimper, still rubbing slow circles at my clit, and it’s like my begging knocks him back into action. He moves my hand away, replacing it with his own, and even though he matches my pace, it just feels so much better, my back arching under his touch.
He pulls off my socks, both of us now completely naked, and he lifts one of my legs to rest my ankle on his shoulder. He’s still resting on his knees, and he kisses the inside of my ankle as he buries himself deep inside me with much less resistance this time. I feel so much more exposed without his body covering mine, but the infatuation in his gaze as it travels across my body makes me feel confident rather than uncomfortable.
‘Can I move?’ he asks, and I nod, the boy slipping his hands beneath my back to lift my body up from the bed slightly. ‘Use your safe word if I’m being too rough,’ he says, the only bit of warning before he pulls almost all the way out before slamming all the way back in. There’s slight pain but it only adds to the pleasure, my eyes rolling back as I let out a high-pitched moan.
‘Fuck, baby, your moans are so fucking pretty. My pretty baby sounds so desperate and good for me,’ he murmurs, moving my body back and forth to meet his strong thrusts, his cock so deep it feels like it’s in my stomach. His hands are tight at my waist, holding me in a bruising grip, and his thrusts are just as forceful, but the kisses he presses to my ankles and legs are so soft and tender in comparison, my mind in a mess at the conflicting sensations.
He's much more focused on my pleasure now, watching my face intently to see my reactions as he fucks into me at a steady pace, the sounds of my moaning and skin slapping against skin drowning out the gentle music in the background. My body’s so stunned at the unfamiliar feelings, but the thing that makes me squirm the most is the look on his face as he watches me, a mix of cockiness, affection and intense desire.
‘You’re taking it so fucking well, y/n. My pretty girl loves having my cock, isn’t that right?’ he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of fucking me, and I can’t even respond, just moaning his name desperately. I feel the knot in my stomach starting to tighten as I watch his muscles rippling with every movement, the blood vessels in his body corded tight.
‘Getting close?’ he asks, and I just about manage to nod, the boy adjusting his position so he’s lying over me again, one leg slung around his waist with the other bent up between our bodies. He fucks into me with renewed energy, the new position meaning the head of his cock is brushing against a spot inside me that makes my eyes tear up, and his grunts of effort are directly against my ear, driving me wild.
‘Fuck, Mase, feels so good,’ I moan in a high-pitched tone against his ear, the boy cursing, his pace increasing after hearing the desperation in my voice. He rests his weight on one forearm, his other hand slipping between our bodies to draw harsh circles at my clit. It’s all too much – his cock hitting the soft spot inside me, his fingers rubbing at my clit, his noises in my ear – and I feel myself hurtling towards my high.
‘Is my pretty baby gonna cum on my cock for me? Come on, babe, you’re so close. Cum around me like a good little slut, baby,’ he murmurs against my ear, thrusting particularly hard as he presses down on my clit, and I cry out his name as my orgasm washes over me. My walls clamp down around him, so tight he can’t move, so he gets me through my orgasm by rubbing harshly at my clit, sucking bruises onto my neck as my nails dig into his back, scratching lines across his skin.
My walls loosen around him once I start coming down, and he takes the opportunity to start fucking into me again, chasing his own orgasm. The overstimulation is too much, my body still twitching with aftershocks, body squirming beneath his.
‘Come on, baby, you can take it. Be a good girl for me,’ he breathes out, words broken up with curses and moans, and despite the tears running down my face, I want to do as he says. So I do my best to get him there, engaging what sanity I have left to meet his thrusts, clenching around him, kissing and biting along his jaw.
‘Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna cum, babe,’ he groans, burying himself deep in me as he moans my name, filling me with his release again. He thrusts into me slowly to get himself through his orgasm before pulling out when he’s done, cum dripping out of me.
‘You’re such a good girl for me, baby,’ he murmurs, collecting up the cum that’s trickling across my skin before pushing it back into me with a two fingers, prompting an ‘mmm’ sound from low in my throat, legs closing around his hand.
‘Let me clean you up,’ he says, half to himself, and he gets up off the bed and pulls his boxers back on before heading into the en suite. My body relaxes back into the duvet, skin damp with sweat and chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and I focus on the music so I don’t drift off to sleep, my body exhausted.
I can feel Mason’s hands on me as he cleans me up with a damp towel but I don’t register anything he says and I can’t focus my eyes on him either, lids sliding shut after a few seconds. When they reopen, it’s clearly been a while – Mason’s pulled the covers over my body and put a fresh pair of pants on me. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand and a bottle of water beside him. All the presents he got me are sitting on my vanity table, the bouquet of flowers on my bedside table, and I admire them with a warm feeling in my chest.
‘Mase,’ I say, voice hoarse, and he turns to look at me with a smile. ‘She’s back,’ he grins, lifting one of my hands to press a kiss to the skin, contentment filling me. ‘You okay?’ ‘Mmhmm,’ I hum in response as he hands me a bottle of water, watching as I gulp it down.
‘Why are you sitting there?’ ‘I thought it was a bit… presumptuous to get into bed with you without asking,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You were just inside me.’ ‘Still.’ ‘Mason, I don’t have a problem with my boyfriend getting into bed with me,’ I say with a small smile, and he tilts his head amusedly.
‘I’m not your boyfriend. Well, I’m your fake boyfriend. I haven’t asked if I can be your real boyfriend yet,’ he reminds me, and I roll my eyes. ‘You don’t have to ask.’ ‘No, babe. You told me you dreamed of romance in a relationship, and I want to be the man of your dreams, so I’m gonna ask, with a big gesture and everything,’ he says, and I pout.
‘So I have to wait?’ I ask, and he shakes his head with a grin, reaching over and plucking the single pink rose out of the bouquet, handing it to me. When I hold it, I realise it’s not real, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘It’s a forever rose. There was a card that I wrote to go with it but I chickened out and didn’t give it to you,’ he says, picking up his jeans from where they are on the floor, fishing out a note and handing it to me.
Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n. You’ll be in my heart until the last rose dies. Yours forever, Mason x
My eyes fill with tears, the boy laughing as he moves to sit beside me, pulling me into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. ‘You’re so cute, babe,’ he murmurs, and I shake my head. ‘No, you’re so cute! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,’ I reply tearfully, Mason stroking my hair with a soft hand.
‘Look at the rose again,’ he prompts, and I do as he says, inspecting it. As I move it, I notice the light glinting off something between the petals. I pick it out with my nails, gasping at the sparkling pink sapphire set into a silver ring. ‘It matches the jewellery set. It’s a promise ring,’ he says, taking it from me and slipping it onto my left ring finger.
‘A promise for what?’ ‘A promise that I’ll replace it with an engagement ring and then a wedding ring, if that’s what you want. A promise that I’ll love you forever, y/n,’ he says softly, and I turn to look at him with wide eyes. ‘Love?’ ‘What else, babe? Since the moment I saw you, I knew. You were gonna change my life, and now I can’t imagine it without you and all your pink. I love you, y/n,’ he whispers, and I let out a teary laugh, pulling him in for a kiss.
‘You still haven’t asked me,’ I say suddenly, breaking apart from him, and he laughs. ‘y/n, will you be my girlfriend?’ ‘Yes!’ I exclaim, pulling him back into a kiss. ‘I love you too,’ I whisper into the kiss, feeling his lips curve up into a smile. ‘Are you sure?’ he asks, breaking away from me, and I laugh. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve only just realised it, but I know it now. I love you, Mason Mount,’ I smile, the boy pulling me into his arms with a chuckle. ‘I love you more, my clueless girl.’
#mason mount#mason mount smut#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fanfiction#mason mount imagine#mason mount fluff#chelsea fc
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“Age doesn't matter,” 22
Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader
Part 21
You just rolled your eyes at him and handed him the clothes you were holding. "Just wear these on. Let me know if it fits." You simply said and walked away.
Katsuki only raised an eyebrow.
Deep inside, you were exploding. His body was built by gods. All the biceps and the muscles, the thin waist, and the scars add up to his look.
But Y/n just shook her head to erase those thoughts and headed straight to her kitchen. She was still clueless about the kiss.
Does that mean Katsuki feels something for her? Does he like her? What made him fancy someone like her? So simple like her? Compared to him, you're a civilian who knows nothing but to teach and raise a kid.
You don't even know what to think anymore. Why? Because you don't want to hurt yourself. You basically don't want to assume and yet here you are, jumping to one thing and another.
---
"I didn't expect you to come so I only prepared dinner for myself." You said as you placed a bowl of hot noodles in front of him, along with two pieces of cheese bread. "I'm sorry. This is all I got for now."
"I came unexpectedly. Don't apologize," Katsuki said while watching you putting all the food on the table.
“Very unexpected, if you ask me.” You mumbled as you sat down in front of him. “Thank you for the food.” You said and started digging in.
Katsuki was staring at you though. More like watching. He was watching you enjoy hot noodles. Of course, it’s the perfect food for when it’s raining.
You noticed him watching you though. You looked at him and blinked. “Don’t you like the food?” You asked after swallowing the food. “I’m sorry, I-,”
“I said stop apologizing.” Katsuki tsked and starts slurping the noodles.
It was quiet for a moment, just the sound of thunder, television, chewing and slurping can be heard. Once done, you were surprised when Katsuki brought the bowls and utensils to the kitchen sink and even started washing.
“K-katsuki!” You stuttered as you called out. “What are you doing?!” You basically almost yelled while hurrying to his side.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Katsuki said in a ‘isn’t it obvious tone.’
“I- what?” You blinked. “Nevermind that. Why are you doing that? You’re a guest!” You said slightly scowling. You tried pushing him away from the sink, but he won’t budge.
“I won’t be, after what happened.” He simply said and was about to rinse the dishes.
This made you remember what happened earlier. The kiss.
“Cat got your tongue?” Katsuki smirked when he never heard you utter a word.
“I don’t want t-to talk about it.” You blushed, looking away.
“I hope that implies that I like you and wanted you to be my girlfriend,” His voice suddenly went serious while focusing on rinsing.
“E-eh?” You stuttered, once again.
“Can you stop that? Fucking reminds me of Deku.” Katsuki tsked. “And I’m serious.” Kastuki added.
“I know you are.” You quietly responded. “But aren’t you going to ask me out?” You added quietly.
Unfortunately, he heard it. “I’m fucking desperate to fix things with you.” He spoke. “Hell, I’m not even thinking straight. I just went with what I feel right.” While speaking, he paused on his movement to look at you.
The way he looked at you took your breath away. It was different from the way he looked at you before. Those aren’t the eyes who used to glare at you whenever you tried cooking dinner at his home. This right here is genuine.
You were speechless.
“Tomorrow, I’ll take you out after my shift.” Katsuki simply said. “I’ll leave Kazui with mom.”
“Can I have a say in here?”
---
You're anxious. It's been a while since you've been on a date. Heck, you can't even remember when it was.
Your co-teachers are asking if you've been feeling okay and that you're acting weird. Who wouldn't be? Dynamight just messaged you he'll pick you up after his shift. Hell, he will intentionally go to Kazui's echo, not because he needs to pick up Kazui, but because he'll pick you up.
And due to how anxious you are, you actually had a hard time picking up what to wear this morning. You wanted to look casual yet elegant. Why? Because you're going on a date with the number 2 hero and you want to look presentable because you know that cameras will be about. So here you are, wearing a dark green over-knee dress along with two-inch black wedge heels.
Your day went on smoothly as you taught, guided, and watched your students. Some even commented that you look extra beautiful today which flatters you. Until the class ended. Kids bid you goodbye as they departed the building, on their way to their parents who were waiting for them outside the school.
Your heart was thumping rapidly. Your eyes are scrutinizing around you, searching for the familiar vehicle which thankfully there's none yet.
After waving goodbye to the students, you went back to your homeroom where you saw Kazui fixing his things.
"Kazui-chan." You called out.
Kazui looked at you, blinking curiously. “Yes, Miss Y/n?” He asked.
“U-um.” You stuttered. “Do you know who will be picking you up today?” You asked as you fixed your things as well.
“Well, papa said Uncle Eiji will drop me off at Grandma since he said he’ll be busy,” Kazui explained, finally zipping close his bag.
‘Then I guess the date is canceled?’ You thought to yourself.
“Miss Y/N?” Kazui called you out.
“Oh!” You internally slap yourself and look back to Kazui. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Are you and Papa okay now?” Kazui asked.
This caught you off guard of course. You didn’t expect him to be this observant, especially between Katsuki and you. “W-we’re always okay. Why do you ask?” You lied.
“You never visit us anymore.” Kazui pouted. “I only see you here at school but not in our home anymore.. I-I thought Papa and you had an argument.”
“Kazui-chan..” You mumbled and went closer to Kazui, kneeling. You gently touched his cheek and brushed your thumb, caressing him gently. “You don’t need to worry about us.” You smiled.
“Tomorrow, I’ll visit you, would you like that?”
Kazui suddenly beamed. “Really?!”
You giggled seeing his reaction. “Yes, sweetie.”
“Yay!!”
Part 23
...
This is very short and this is the only day I am available. I don't know when I'll be able to update again but I'll do my best! Thank you all for your patience!
#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#bnha bakugou#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader
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Kinktober D9: Deadly Duo - Demon! Mingyu
Navigation
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
Seventeen Masterlist
Pairing: Demon! Mingyu x Demon Hunter Afab! Reader
Genre: Twinge of Angst, Smut
Summary: When you steal away a demon to make a deal with it ends up back firing on you, turns out he's more cunning than he lets on.
Warnings: Teasing, demon themes, incubus themes, aphrodisiac, dirty talk, cursing, a knife, kidnapping, life threatening, tricking/slight betrayal, fingering, oral, mentions of dry humping/grinding, big dick mingyu, unprotected sex.
Word Count: 17557
This is not where Mingyu ever expected he would be, hands bound behind his back by something that even he was incapable of breaking while his head was covered in some kind of fabric that prevented him from seeing his surroundings. The bright lights in the room soon surround him as someone rips the cloth off his head and walks around his form to stand in front of him. His breath hitches as he notices the blade you’re twirling in your hand, the distinct design letting him know exactly who you are… you’re someone who hunts his kind.
“Relax. I’m not going to kill you.” You chuckle, but the confidence with which you’re carrying yourself tells him you very easily could at any moment.
“Is it because I’m hot?” He knows he shouldn’t test you, but he’s an incubus. His charm is his greatest weapon and potentially his chance out of this situation.
You tsk, rolling your eyes before fixing him with a playful glare, but it gets you to stop spinning the blade that is making him nervous, “No, because you’re too useful.”
“And maybe because I’m a little hot?” Mingyu finds himself trying again and this time he gets a soft chuckle before you sigh and give in just a little bit.
“Maybe…” You concede before going to untie his wrists, “Don’t try anything once you’re out I’ll kill you if you do.”
Mingyu gasps feigning offense, “But I’m so hot and useful.”
“You’re kinda an idiot… do you not know how dangerous I am?” You pause looking up to catch his gaze over his shoulder.
“I mean I do, but also I’m kinda new to this so like… I’m kinda nervous. So you’re getting me in the rare, not sure what to do with myself, state.” He admits flustering with a soft laugh before rolling his wrists as they’re free, “Promise to take care of me though? After all, it is my first time.”
You sigh much deeper this time, hand rubbing down your face, “Oh my god… you’re going to make me go insane.”
“Now that I hear a lot.” He teases with a wink, recovering just slightly at your state before putting his hands up in surrender as you press the point of your blade to his throat.
“Listen you’re just still alive because incubi aren’t the biggest threat. Your use to me is to lead me to other demons, is that clear?” You inquire, being a little firm with him and getting a nod in answer.
“Though depending how long you intend to keep me around I might need to feed.” He says and its something that makes you pause not being a factor you had considered.
“Fuck… you’re right… Well, we’ll worry about that when we get to that point. For now do your job and find me a demon.” Your demand earns you a coy salute before Mingyu begins to lead the way.
That is when your partnership began, Mingyu leading you to one demon after another in exchange for his life. The deal works out rather well for you considering the number of high profile demons that he leads you right too. Though considering how clueless the incubus was it did make you wonder how he had led you straight to so many.
“Okay Mingyu time to get to work.” You call out to the incubus as you open the door to the room you trapped him in when you both weren’t out hunting. Only to receive a groan and see the form roll over rather slowly, a response you weren’t used to from him. “Something wrong Mingyu?”
The incubus sighs and shifts again to find your gaze, “I’m really hungry, to the point that I’m exhausted.”
You hum, thinking about how he’d barely had anything to feed him while he was with you, well besides some makeouts and dry humping to get by on. You hadn’t offered him anymore though, but now you noticed an opportunity.
“Well you can feed all you want if you answer one simple question for me.” You offer, moving to straddle him so that he can fully understand the implication of your words, and it certainly gets his attention as he stares up at you wide eyed, “ How do you always know where the strongest demons are? And don’t you dare try to lie and claim it’s a coincidence… even you can’t get that lucky.”
“Yeah well you’re not going to like the answer.” Mingyu huffs softly, earning him a glare from you as his comments often do along with a teasing roll of your hips down against his.
“And you’re not going to like being hungry. So answer the question.” You insist with a rather smug grin as the hungry incubus groans beneath you debating with himself.
“I have a list of ones we need out of the picture and the places they frequent.” He admits making you pull back some as you’re slightly surprised by the answer.
“Wait… you’ve been using me?” You scoff looking down at him incredulously, “I can’t believe you Mingyu!”
“I wasn’t using you, it was something that was mutually beneficial.” He counters with a shrug which only makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Oh whatever.” You hiss, moving to pull away only for him to flip you both around and pin you to the bed. Of course he would be far less threatened by you considering you were in here unarmed.
“Don’t be like that… I could have picked any little hunter for the job, but there was only one I actually wanted.” Mingyu’s words make your brows furrow, further confused at the statement.
“Mingyu. I’m the one who kidnapped you.” You counter only now he’s the one smirking and looking far less clueless than he typically did as he leaned down beside your ear.
“Oh and you think that was purely a matter of chance?” He chuckles darkly into your ear, “Sweetheart I didn’t frequent all the same places as you for three weeks just out of coincidence, even you should have known that was too easy.”
“Three… I only noticed you for two…” You shrink under his gaze just slightly becoming self conscious as you realize how much of an upper hand he has.
“Relax sweetheart, I’m not going to kill you.” Mingyu smirks, throwing your words from when you had taken him back at you now.
“Because I’m too useful?” You simper, raising a brow at him as you tease just slightly with your words.
“Because you’re too hot.” He purrs in a lower gravelly tone and you hate how it lights your core on fire as if being trapped between his firm form wasn’t already affecting you.
“And maybe useful too?” You muse, gasping as he starts to press open mouth kisses over your throat.
“Maybe a little bit of that too.” He admits nipping at a sensitive spot and making you twitch beneath him.
“Mingyu just fucking kiss me already.” You reach for his face, pulling him firmly to you to smash your lips against him. Allowing his tongue in despite knowing exactly what that would do to you. After all you knew how incubi worked, bodily fluids worked as an aphrodisiac and it didn’t take long for you to notice the heat already in your core crashing over you ten fold only moments later.
“Going to let me finally make you feel as good as I can sweetheart?” He growls out against your lips before leaning back to pull his shirt off.
“ Only if you promise to stop talking smack and just prove it.” You bite back as if he couldn’t tell just how badly you actually wanted him. Biting back a deep chuckle as he helps you sit up to remove your top and bra.
“But that’s the best fucking part.” He teases you before leaning down to bite and suck a mark above your one breast, though his own hunger mixed with how long he has been desiring this soon wins out and he’s pushing you to lay back so he can more easily move lower.
When he moves to pull off your pants and panties you feel how they stick to you due to the wetness and it makes you grow shy, though he doesn’t allow you to close your legs before he’s leaning down between them. One hand moving so he can slip two fingers in, embarrassingly easy as his lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking at the bud while he sucks on it softly. Moaning and groaning against you as your pleasure slowly starts to ease his hunger and some of the rampant desire. You felt it rather easily working you up as Mingyu’s fingers hit all the right places and he gave your clit even more attention, though you would deny it was his skills and your own hunger for him. No, you would claim it to be the aphrodisiac and that alone. It’s only a few seconds more before you’re cumming hard around his fingers, Mingyu working you through it easily before he slips his fingers out and pops them into his mouth, looking into your eyes with a moan as you watch red dance through his irises like lightning.
“Have you ever fucked a demon sweetheart?” Mingyu asks as he quickly rids himself of his pants, finally showing you what you were in store for, you knew from when you would grind that he had to be impressive. You also should have known that due to his being an incubus it would have been even more so, but it was still bigger than you expected and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous.
“Just once…” You admit flustering some beneath his intensity which only makes him more smug. The expression hiding from you as he kisses your temple before whispering to you.
“I’m going to put him to shame, sweetheart.” He says before slowly pressing the tip in, followed by each inch, “Just relax and kiss me, my spit will make sure you feel nothing but warm and fuzzy and ready to go round after round making a mess on my big fat cock.”
You knew you were going to be reduced to a hot, exhausted puddle by the time Mingyu finally let you catch your breath, but as he bottomed out inside of you and made you feel so ridiculously good you realized you wouldn’t mind that one bit.
If you enjoy my work please keep in mind how much time and effort goes into it and show support through comments and reblogs, or consider buying me a kofi. (Caffeine fuels the chaotic gremlin in me who creates content.)
#kinktober 2023#seventeen imagines#seventeen imagine#seventeen fic#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#mingyu oneshot#mingyu imagine
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— Kairos
noun: kai•ros: the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement.
warning(s) depictions of anxiety, stress, overthinking, and mentions of financial difficulties. Also maybe some grammar mistakes.
It was an overcasted day.
The building, although massive, lacked liveliness.
It wasn’t because a lack of students, oh no. It just… It was dull looking. Basic and aged.
But it’s a university nonetheless. A university that Lucien was fortunate enough to get into.
The student was forcing each foot in front of themself, chanting assurance in their brain, and ignoring the bodies that passed by them, or any they accidentally made eye contact with.
It took everything in them to not completely disassociate or succumb to an anxiety attack while heading to the administration office and receiving the necessary paperwork. They made sure to try and listen as information was being given, making sure to not ask the woman to repeat herself too much, and used the notes app on their phone just in case they forgot.
When the student finally left they fled to the courtyard and sat on a lonely bench, the cornflower paint chipped and the wood a bit cracked.
One breath in.
Hold it for four.
One breath out.
Out for four.
Wash, rinse, and repeat till they felt at least somewhat normal again.
They fix their headphones and flip around through their music, dark brown eyes watching young adults either rush to their lectures or meander with their friends or alone.
They soon study the map of Olympeius and murmur to themself about the next thing to do.
“It’s probably best to figure out where our lectures will be that way I’m not lost like a damn fool when it comes time to my first official day..”
They look around themself and purse their lips. “Nah… I’ll wait till there’s not so many people in the halls…”
Lucien isn’t clueless. Ever since they stepped foot into this city and university, they’ve seen the people walking around it.
Fast, vibrant cars, name brand clothing and accessories, black platinum cards (or flashes of green or pale blue paper), and finally, the attitude of others and how they carry themselves.
Lucien didn’t grow up rich and knew the taste of stress from financial problems, and the bitter feeling of someone constantly taking their money when they probably don’t even need it.
But anyways.
Lucien knew that they’d better keep their head down and try to avoid getting in some peoples way.
Otherwise they just might be eaten alive.
But they try to not think too negatively. Especially when they’re in a delicate headspace currently.
“We’ll be okay… Just stay in your lane and do your work. Don’t wanna disappoint anyone…”
‘I wasn’t bullied too badly in high school, maybe I’ll be okay.’
‘But I came from a simple high school. This place is different.’
‘What if I get caught up in something? Will I get help?’
‘What if I become some rich asshole’s servant?’
‘Will the bullying be like how it is on tv?’
‘Should I take self defense classes? Hell, nah, I definitely don’t got money for that, nor the motivation.’
‘Ugh, what about that bill I still need to pay?’
‘God, I have to find a new therapist too.’
‘So much to do and-.’
“Excuse me? Are you okay?”
It was dull and gray outside. They like it like that, it usually meant rain.
But now… The sun has peaked out from the shade of clouds and licked at their skin.
They blink and shake their head, catching their headphones as it slips back slightly, and there stands a proper looking young man with pretty eyes and an even prettier face.
Brown meets azure, and they nearly choke on air.
“I-.. Yeah..! Sorry, I was lost in thought!” Lucien quickly explained.
The dapper fellow smiles with relief and stands up straight, his hands behind his back. “That’s good to hear. I was quite concerned for a moment! Are you perhaps new?”
A gentle bob of their head and they smile sheepishly at him. “Is it that obvious?”
The man gives a lighthearted chuckle. “Hmm, I wouldn’t say that, but I haven’t seen you before. You just gave it away.”
“Fair,” Lucien chuckles, rubbing their neck, their eyes moving from his eyes and down to his mouth before looking at his attire.
Tawny skin with dusty pink undertones, silken brown hair in a little braid that rests on his shoulder, a few strands fallen in his face, making him look soft but still elegant. He’s got a clear face, plump shiny lips, a cute nose, and expressive eyes.
Blue eyes aren’t something they find interesting, but on him? They’re beautiful.
Fancy black shoes, slacks, and button up, and a purple vest that hugs his torso.
It makes them wary for a moment once they take in his all too neat and perfect appearance, but…
He seems sweet.
“Oh, I’m Lucien, by the way,” they greet.
“I’m Jericho. Jericho Ichabod. But everyone calls me Crowe!”
His teeth are straight and white, and behind him the sun blooms brighter, and Lucien isn’t sure what exactly is blinding them more.
#𝐓𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐁 🐦⬛💚´ˎ˗#the kid at the back vn#katb va#katb_vn#sol brugmansia#solivan brugmansia#jericho crowe ichabod#crowe ichabod#self insert#crowe centered chapter#crowe is like#blinding beautiful light amongst the gloomy gray
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TNGDH 32
“Gasp…… Ugh. I’m dying…….”
After leaving the study, I ran like crazy. I ran like I’ve never ran before.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from my room. If I weren’t fast enough, the ‘Summon’ duration would end and I would’ve disappeared in the middle of the hallway, leaving behind nothing but my clothes.
After running at full speed, I went into the bed, covered myself with the blanket, and canceled the ‘Summon’. With that, I was summoned back to where I designated in advance, under the sawdust.
―Squeak. (Whew.)
At this rate, I might end up passing away young…….
I stumbled towards the middle of the hamster house and laid on my back with my arms and legs stretched out. The sky is yellow. So yellow.
“Did you exercise? You look tired.”
Kyle appeared suddenly and picked me up while I was still panting. He began to kiss all over me. With no strength to even lift up a paw, I helplessly received all his affectionate gestures.
―Squeak……. (Are you content now…….)
“I understand, I understand. I also like you a lot.”
―Squeak……. (This clueless bastard…….)
“Today, I will make you a present.”
Kyle, who put me down, put a handful of duck feathers into the handkerchief he laid out for me last night. Then, he carefully began to quilt it.
Although it looked a little awkward and had threads sticking out, it came out better than the dish scrub he made before. Have you been practicing these days?
I peered at his face with my barely open eyes. There was a warm smile that contrasted with the endless winter out the window.
What are you so happy about.
It’s just a demonic beast.
As I felt the handkerchief being carefully placed on my back, I slowly closed my eyes..
―Squeak……. (This diligent, tactless, warm-hearted bastard…….)
One day, this moment would become a memory to think back about after I return back to my world.
It would be a happy memory to remember.
*
―…….
“…….”
“…….”
It was a suffocating silence..
I looked back and forth at Kyle and the magician, who were both watching me put up a guard.
It had been thirty minutes since the magician entered the study. They constantly observed me as if I were a lab rat. Stop staring please. It’s really burdensome.
Gulp.
A swallow was heard throughout the room.
The culprit was the nervous magician next to Kyle.
“T-then, I will start now.”
As if he had finally made up his mind, the magician, who looked to be middle-aged, lifted me up carefully.
The lift was uncomfortable. The palm I was sitting on was shaking hard as if an earthquake occurred.
―Squeak……. (Excuse me, sir…….)
Are you trying to play with me or what?
I sat on the shaking palms and gave him a wary look.
You must be nervous with Kyle glaring at you as if he were going to rip you to pieces, but it’s not like Kyle would actually shred you. He’s just worried. He’s just an ordinary demonic beast lover.
After wiping his sweat with the back of his hand, the magician began to inject blue mana into my body. I closed my eyes and hugged tight onto the cashew nut in my hands.
I didn’t know how my body would react to this and neither did the system, but I had no choice but to take a gamble. Kyle would’ve used all possible methods he could find to make me grow.
Right. It’s better to get this done and over with.
―……?
Bam.
My body was pushed slightly to the side along with the sound of something blunt hitting each other.
I held tighter onto the cashew nut I almost dropped and stretched out my neck to look around like a meerkat. Wh-what was that? Something just flew by?
“……Did you do it?”
“I did, however…….”
There was a crushing silence. The magician swallowed again nervously before placing his hand on my body once more.
“This…… this time I’ll try injecting harder.”
Despite saying that, he was still shaking incredibly.
Your life must also be a rough ride. I pat the magician’s hand with my front paw and took a short, deep breath. Come, I am ready.
“……Hmph!”
The magician made a weird grunting sound before drawing up a palm full of blue mana energy. Then, the moment the powerful mana shot out and made contact with my body…
Ting.
Ting.
Bam.
My body rolled back twice before colliding with the wall. I was buried in Kyle’s knitted yarns.
“Cashew!”
Kyle quickly picked me up. I shook my head and felt some static electricity penetrating my whole body.
‘Just what exactly is happened?’
What happened? Is mana supposed to feel this shocking?
[The in□able power □s d□sp□.]
I blankly stared at the system window that appeared in front of my eyes. The letters were broken into pixels and were difficult to read, but I felt I knew what it was saying.
‘Is it saying that the mana of my body and this world are colliding? Is it the same for the unexpected appearance of the beast during the reconnaissance?’
As I was lost in my thoughts, Kyle checked my entire body for any wounds.
“……Your Highness. This, I don’t think this is your typical demonic beast.”
The magician said in a hushed voice as he formed a puddle below his feet from his sweat.
“If this little one isn’t a demonic beast, what could it possibly be!”
Kyle covered me with his palm as he shouted at the magician who stood far away from him and flinched.
Hey, hey. Don’t be like that. It isn’t his fault.
“H-however, it’s not only not accepting the mana, it’s even reflecting it back…….”
While the magician rambled, I picked up the cashew nut that had flown away. The end was slightly cracked from the impact earlier. It also looked like there was a bit of dust on it.
―…….
I threw the cashew nut in frustration. Forget it. I’m not eating this dirty thing. I should use ‘Summon’ and eat something nicer.
I sat back down and watched two people arguing- no, one person suffering from the rage of the other. It’s not like I could stop the fight with this body of mine. I would have to wait for them to finish on their own.
Thinking like that, I revisited the system window with the pixel letters.
“Your Highness!”
I turned my head at the sudden voice and the study door flinging open.
It was a face I knew. He was one of Kyle’s knights in the scouting party.
“What’s the matter. A guest is here, so quickly state your matter.”
“M-my apologies! However, a letter arrived saying that Prince Belial had been attacked……!”
“……attacked?”
……What? Attacked?
I jumped up.
Kyle chased off the magician and put me back into the hamster house. After closing the house, he approached the knight at the door.
Hey. Talk inside the room! Let me hear it too!
I pressed my ears against the transparent wall. Fortunately, the study door was not completely closed, so I was able to vaguely hear the conversation.
In summary, Belial, who was returning back to the imperial palace, was ambushed by an unknown group. It was a serious incident that caused the carriage to overturn, but because the location was closer to the imperial palace, it took time for the news to reach the Blake estate……
I crossed my arms and paced back and forth in the hamster house.
The early part of <The Winter’s Heart>. The only attack I knew at this point of the novel was the ambush on Kyle that resulted in him getting wounded on his right arm.
But that incident didn’t occur on Kyle due to my interference. So instead, Belial was attacked?
‘……Something’s not right.’
Does that mean the unknown force behind the ambush on Kyle in the original story wasn’t from Belial? I thought deeply while rocking on the swing.
The controlling power within the imperial palace was definitely the second prince, Belial. I’d hate to admit, but he had exceptional leadership skills and a captivating smile, making him popular among the people.
Then was it different within the palace? As far as I knew, some subjects already openly considered Belial to be the future emperor even though the 1st prince was still alive.
‘But, what was his name again?’
Suddenly, a system window appeared.
[Lorenz Serena Meinhardt was weak-minded and cowardly. He couldn’t compete with Kyle in force, nor could he beat Belial in intellect. All he had left was the pride of being the 1st prince.
‘Right. It was Lorenz.’
I disliked him so much I even forgot his name.
I recalled the description of him from the story. With a hair color lighter than Belial’s, he was said to have a sharp appearance that resembled his mother, Serena. His thick eyebrows and clear facial features were said to resemble the emperor.
[눈_눈]
### ‘눈’ means ‘eye’. The emote resembles a frowning face.
Yeah. Like that.
However, the imperial family valued tradition and legitimacy. No matter how much power Belial held, he would not be able to become the emperor.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Prince Lorenz had no support at all, and the emperor probably would want to entrust the country to his eldest son.
That was why I thought Lorenz wouldn’t interfere with Belial’s matters. He could become the emperor even if he stood still, so there was no need to make a mess.
―Squeak. (This is all so confusing.)
While I spun the hamster wheel with my hands habitually, Kyle returned to the study with a slightly depressed look on his face.
It seemed everything has settled down. How kind of you to worry about your enemy like that.
With a short sigh, I used ‘Summon’. He didn’t seem to have the spirit to look after the hamster, so this would be the perfect time to become Shu.
Above all, the small hamster body wouldn’t be able to give Kyle the comfort he needed. For now, I want to be be his side as a human being.
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Flufftober 2023 with Agent Whiskey - Day 19- Showering
Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader
Word counting: 850
Rating: Teen and up audiences.
Warning: Mentions of sex and post-partum blues.
A/N: This can be read as the part one of Cowboytober Day 19 (NSFW).
When the whole adrenaline of the moment had passed and you were finally home again, you were finally starting to believe that your baby was there and you couldn't be happier about how much your little girl looked like her father.
The pregnancy was hard, for sure, but the post-partum was certainly being a bit harder. You expected to get out of the hospital as if nothing had happened and take care of your baby without any problems, you just didn’t count on the unexpected c-section you had to go through when you stopped to have progress on your labor.
If you thought that Jack was an amazing husband before, now your admiration and appreciation for him just doubled. He was amazing with you during pregnancy and during the labor wasn’t different. Jack stood by your side during the whole process, giving you all the support you could ever ask for. Once you were cleared to go home, Jack got even more in the nurse mood.
The baby was already fed and asleep on her snoo, so you decided to take a shower, a decent one since the hospital shower wasn’t the best in the world. When you told that to Jack, obviously he didn’t allow you to move a finger to get everything you would need and accompanied you to the bathroom.
“Well, I think you can take a break from your caring services.” You said softly and proceeded to start to take off your nightgown, unable to contain a soft pain sound when you tried to lift your arms and felt a pinch on your c-section “Damn.” You mumbled quietly, moving your arms down.
“Honey, what’s necessary for you to take it easy?” Jack shook his head and approached you “Let me help you.”
“No.” you refused without flinching “There’s no way I’m getting naked in front of you.” You could see the totally confused expression on Jack’s face.
“I’m not following, sweetheart.” He admitted with a frown.
“Jack, have you forgotten that I gave birth two days ago through a c-section?” You raised one eyebrow.
“No, I haven’t. I just ain’t understanding what one thing had to do with the other.” His clueless expression didn’t let you doubt that he really wasn’t following.
“I’m looking horrible now. I imagine none of us want to ruin our future sex life.” You frowned slightly when he seemed even more confused after your explanation.
“Let me get this straight. Are you assuming that in the distant future, I’ll not feel attracted to you just because of a few body changes? That’s it?” he couldn’t disguise his disbelief while questioning it, making you wonder that maybe your assumptions truly were unfounded.
“Well, when you point it like that…” you tilted your head to the side, still pondering about it. Jack sighed and approached you, holding your face between his hands.
“You’re focusing on the wrong part of all this. Honeybee, you just gave birth to our little daughter, you gave me a family and you really think that I’d bother about such a basic thing like the mark of the c-section?” despite his disbelief about your assumptions, Jack sounded calmer than ever, caressing your cheeks gently. He imagined that you were going through a lot on your mind and that your hormones were all crazy, he’d never get mad with you in such a delicate moment, especially because of a simple thing like that.
“I thought you would.” You admitted slightly ashamed for having considered such a horrible thing about him.
“Well, then be aware that I’d never do that.” He said calmly and kissed your forehead “Now c’mon, I know you’re craving for a shower.”
“I had no idea how much I am.” You admitted with a soft expression “That shower in the hospital worked more like a dropper.”
“I’ll have to agree with you.” He chuckled, helping you get rid of your clothes and get into the shower.
You couldn’t hold back a satisfied sigh once the warm water ran over your hair and skin, making your whole body relax to the point you didn’t even remember about the remaining discomforts of the post-partum. Your usual soap never smelled better than at that moment, when you were finally enjoying a proper shower. Even with all your excitement, the soft pinch on your surgery reminded you that you had to take it easy, and then you just looked at your cowboy nurse, who was patiently waiting for you, resting on the sink.
“I’ll need a little hand here.” You said calmly and Jack approached you, already rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
“Tell me, darling.” He waited for your answer with a soft smile.
“You’ll have to rub my back and, since you’re already here, you could wash my hair too.” You said calmly, relaxing even more when you felt his hands on your skin.
“Anything else, ma’am?” Jack looked at you with a playful smile, raising one eyebrow.
“Well, I’m quite hungry, so I’ll accept a little lunch once we get done here.”
Flufftober masterlist
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey fic#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#kingsman: the golden circle#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#jack whiskey daniels#kinktober 2023#flufftober#pedrostories
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People like to talk about how Mike might have never actually liked El at all because his prepubescent puppy crush was actually just comphet, but what I haven’t seen discussed so much is the very real possibility that El never liked him (romantically) either.
When El and Max were clothes shopping in S3, El asked how she was supposed to know what she liked. She didn’t know how to discern her own taste, and this was after about 8 months worth of time where she was, if not integrating into society, at least hanging out with the party. By this point in the show, what things do we actually know that el has decided she likes? When she was with Hopper she listened to whatever records he had and watched whatever was on TV, because her world was so small that she didn’t have the luxury of choice. The only things she seems to have stated a preference for are Mike and Eggos. Mike, one of the first people she ever met outside of the lab, and Eggos, the first food he ever brought her. Now what are the odds that these are actually her favourite things, and that she’s not just imprinting?
We see a lot of this lack of knowledge of what she wants in how she dresses. As a small child, she only wears the hospital gowns that the lab provides her with. Once she breaks out she wears Mike’s clothes and Nancy’s old dress. When she lives with Hopper she wears his old clothes and whatever he brings her. Even when she has her punk makeover she’s just wearing what Kali dressed her up in. She chooses her own clothes while she’s out with Max, and almost immediately after that she breaks up with Mike. Even then, she feels the need to ask Max, as if she expects to be told what she’s supposed to like. In S4 it’s unclear how much of her wardrobe she’s chosen herself, but I’m assuming that the oversized shirts are probably Hopper’s, in which case she’s wearing them because she misses him and not because she actually likes them.
When El and Mike first met they were still small kids, and they knew each other for a grand total of a week. Regardless of what you think his reason for it was, Mike basically decided that their relationship was going to have a romantic context. El didn’t know what that meant! She spent her entire childhood in a laboratory and ended up repressing most of it by the time she escaped. We see in S2 that she likes to watch romance shows on TV, but those aren’t a realistic portrayal of relationships, and they’re likely her only interaction with the concept of romance. Despite apparently having been in a relationship for months, she seems pretty clueless about dating when talking to Max in S3. I’ll bet good money that she saw romcom meet-cutes and, overlaying them over her own experience with Mike, assumed that “love-at-first-sight” relationships were the norm for the general populace.
So here’s El, who’s never been able to consider what it is that she actually wants before, and one of the only people she’s ever met tells her he likes her romantically. Of course she’ll go along with it! Particularly when she sees relationships just like that on TV, because soap operas are her only real window into society for a whole year! She goes along with it because Mike says he likes her, so she assumes that means she must like him too, yet the moment Max prompts her to think about what it is she really wants, she breaks up with him. And then when she returns to the status quo of their relationship, long distance this time, she’s blatantly lying about so much! She’s not thinking about what she wants at all, she’s only considering what it is she thinks Mike wants.
I do think El likes Mike a lot, as a friend, but she’s never even considered their relationship through a platonic lens because she’s been told from the very start that it’s romantic.
#eleven#eleven stranger things#anti mileven#byler#mike wheeler#el hopper#ok all of this is very obvious and i doubt i'm saying anything u haven't already thought#but it makes me feel better to write it down ok#anyway manifesting them being besties in s5 bc they care abt each other so so much#i feel like ppl forget that comphet doesn't just affect gay ppl#even before i knew i was aroace ppl would assume that my platonic relationships were romantic#to the point where i would start to question myself and my knowledge that they weren't#and i wasn't raised in a lab with no genuine emotional contact!!! damn!!!#stranger things meta
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Just imagine for a moment that instead of a Steve, Eddie somehow ended up with a Stiles as his bestfriend…
The roles would be kinda reversed because Stiles Stilinski is the nerd while Eddie Munson would be the clueless one half the time who’s just there to look cute. But the best part would be the bickering! Let me give you some examples✨
“A bat Stiles? Really? What the fuck are you gonna do with a bat?” “Uhh bash their brains in duh? What’d you bring Mr. Bats are lame dude…” “I brought a wooden uhm spike thing to…stab them in the heart.” “A wooden stake? You…brought a wooden stake?” “Yeah? It’s what that girl uses on that show to kill all the evil shit so figured it would work for us.” “The girl on the show?…tell me Eddie was this girl blonde and in high school?” “Yeah! You’ve seen-” “she’s a vampire slayer you fucking idiot! It’s literally the name of the show! Buffy the Vampire Slayer!” “So? Vampires…Werewolves…not a big difference they both try to kill you!” “We are so fucked….”
“So this…Vecna…person…thing…can like kill you from inside your mind and you won’t even realize he’s doing it?…that sounds like Freddy Krueger.” “He’s nothing like Freddy…this dude doesn’t need you to be asleep to kill you Eddie he just gets inside of your mind and fucks around until he just squashes you like a bug.” “Yeah he sounds like Krueger…” “Did you…not listen to anything I just said? Freddy needs you asleep this dude doesn’t care if you’re asleep or awake.” “I mean that’s just one difference but everything else is exactly like Freddy…” “I don’t have time to argue with you about how unlike Freddy Krueger this Vecna dude is…so just get in the jeep and let’s go make sure Wayne is still alive.” “Why wouldn’t Wayne be alive?” “This dude feeds off negative memories and having you as a child I’m sure he’s full of negative shit.” “Fuck off your dad is the one we should check on.” “You are such an asshole I am a joy to be around…I already called him and he’s fine.”
“What are you wearing?” “Uh clothes? Why are you dressed in all black?” “Eddie we are spying on a pack of possible Werewolves and you’re dressed for a fucking house party!” “Well yeah you said they were gonna be throwing a rager and I should fit in?” “Fit into the background not fit in like you’re one of them you idiot!” “You should really specify where you want me to fit in when telling me how to dress you jackass now we don’t even look like we are going to the same party.” “We aren’t going to the party! We are going to be…where are you going?” “Inside…it’s easier to spy on people when you can actually see them.” “We can’t go in there what if they turn?” “It’s not a full moon.” “So? If they get mad they can rip you to shreds with their claws and strength…what are you gonna do then huh? Charm them to death with your mediocre good looks and 90’s style grunge outfit?” “Mediocre? Fuck off Stiles.” “Sorry that was rude you’re…a handsome dude but seriously you can’t go-” “I’m just gonna see if any of them give off wolf vibes and be right back…” “yeah go do a vibe check on a potential pack of wolves…smart thinking.” “Thanks…now just stay here I’ll be back.” “That’s the worst thing to say you know that right? You just pretty much signed your own death certificate with that phrase.” “You watch too many movies…it’ll be fine.”
#Eddie Munson and Stiles Stilinski#eddie munson concept#eddie munson au#stiles Stilinski au#eddie munson imagine#stiles stilinksi imagine#Eddie Munson#stiles stilinski#stranger things au#teen wolf au#my little dungeon master baby#eddie munson fanfiction#stiles stilinksi fanfiction
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Infidel | Johan Liebert x Reader
Chapter 7
It had been some time since the unusual meeting in the cafe with Nina and the somewhat familiar presence when leaving.
A few weeks by and you haven’t seen or spoken to your father. Thankfully.
It was no surprise to you that you found that he didn’t return home and sober up and in fact stayed in the pub.
The man seemed to get worse and you started to wonder how often was he drinking rather than literally doing his actual job.
Of course due to this, you weren’t exactly taking on jobs at the moment which you didn’t particularly mind. Though due to this, you now spent more time in your apartment which meant you got a good look at the true state of the apartment.
Your day would typically start early, start a job or two, halfway through get dragged to some pub and then desperately run down by the stream for a breather. So it was no surprise your apartment over time had started to become so neglected.
Pillows from the couch were thrown from around from anger from dealing with drunken liars so you couldn’t really be annoyed at picking them up. The floor was in need of sweeping and there in the corner of the room was a family of daddy long legs. As long as they didn’t interfere with you they could stay. They didn’t pay rent but they did get rid of the flies that came through the windows every time you opened them. The spiders were more useful than your fathers colleges.
Just as you swept the wooden floors, your eyes look up to check the clock.
It was just after seven in the evening.
Your eyes widen and the broom drops to the floor. “I’m gonna be late.” You groan, making your way to the bedroom.
It was only a few days after meeting Nina at the cafe did you coincidently bumped into each other in the streets just like at the university. She arranged to a night out for a casual hanging out in some bar. You hesitated but agreed when she mentioned paying for the taxi.
You put on your clothes, rubbing your hands against the fabric to smooth it out.
It was then when looking in the mirror did you realise that you’re entire black outfit from the simple plain dress to the blazer jacket made you look like you were attending a funeral. How exciting.
While adjusting your jacket there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll be ready in just one minute-
You open the door not expecting those eyes to stare you down.
“y/n l/n ? I’m Johan Liebert. I’m very sorry to disturb you at such an hour.”
It was quite embarrassing really. How you had that dumbfounded look on your face as you stared up him. The apartment had such bad lighting. The old light bulbs that needed to be changed gave off a warm orange light. Yet it glowed appropriately against his skin. His eyes however still remained that mysterious shade of blue.
“Can I help you ?” You wonder, that clueless look still on your face.
“It’s been some time of course, but we met a while back. I’m certain you must recall ?”
He has a polite tone and he speaks so softly. Which tells you that ye clearly is in no rush. You however can’t say the same.
“We’ll I don’t study law, mister…”
“I’m Johan Liebert.”
You shake your head at the thought.
Yes you do remember him. Yes you’d love to know why exactly he’s standing outside your apartment while you’re in the doorway but you do not have long.
“Of course I do, Johan.” Ever since meeting Nina you’ve attempted to try a kinder approach to sudden conversations.
Although this is your first attempt since you haven’t been working as of late and if all people it is Johan who you have only met once not even that long ago.
“I believe this belongs to you.” He states, he pulls what he had behind his back to show you. A gasp manages to escape past your lips as you down at what he holds. In his hand Johan holds the file from your last case. The file that you specifically remember throwing away on the street. But didn’t you place it in the bin ?
“How did you find it ?”
You’re not sure why you ask. You weren’t in need of it. Besides it wasn’t like you had thrown it away by accident.
“It was laying on the pavement. It felt important to return it as your private information is on it. It would be a shame if it ended up in the wrong hands.” He gives you a polite smile.
“How could I forget.” You facepalm.
The information he mentioned was that as part of identification, your basic information such as full name, address and landline number were present on each file that you had been working on.
You peer your head back into your apartment and the hands on the clock move rather too quickly for your liking but when you look back at Johan who still has the gentle look in his eye, you’re not stupid enough to not notice how his foot is now in your doorway preventing you from blocking him out.
“I appreciate this, Johan. Thank you very much.” You genuinely mean it.
You somewhat start to feel guilty. He did come all the way from wherever he was to return it. You hadn’t even considered the thought of Johan’s comment about the file getting into someone’s dangerous hands.
He was being very considerate and here you were just needing to leave.
The sudden urge of paying him back starts to creep up your neck.
“I not sure how to repay you.” You confess, your fingers gripping the file tightly.
“You needn’t do so.” He simply states.
“You’re dressed quite nicely.” He nods.
You feel the burning desire to look away.
“Just enjoy your evening. That’s all.”
He starts to calmly walk away as you stand there, too caught up to say goodbye. The further he disappears the more the sudden buzzing returns.
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut to help with the sudden pain. When your eyes open again Johan is gone.
You don’t miss how the light starts to flicker.
#x reader#reader insert#anime and manga#johan#johan liebert x reader#yandere johan liebert x reader#johan liebert x y/n#johan liebert#monster anime#monster manga#dr tenma#anna liebert#nina fortner
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Bond to Happen Part 2
Part 2: Meeting Matt Murdock
Warnings: healing injuries, fantastical racism
Word count: 1700ish
You woke up feeling sore, and thirsty. Pushing your eyelids open, you winced at the bright light streaming in through your windows. Wait a minute, you had no natural light in your apartment, where the fuck were you. The events of the previous night slowly flitted through your mind as you struggled and failed to sit up.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice- was that Murdock?- said to your left. Matt walked around into your view, wearing black street clothes with a scarf wrapped around the top half of his face.
“What,” you coughed at the scratchiness in your throat. “What happened after I dropped?”
“I had a friend pick us up and brought you here to treat you. I’m surprised you survived. You lost more blood than you should've been able to live without. You got any sorta explanation for that,” he asked.
“Dumb luck,” you said. Lie. “Thank you, I appreciate the assistance and I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can stand.” You gave an awkward laugh.
“You called me Matt last night. Got an explanation for that?” Shit. That’s what this was about. You had slipped up and revealed your knowledge. You wondered what Matt would do now. You decided to lie, again.
“Did I? I don’t remember that?” You shrugged and grimaced as your stitches were tugged taught from the movement.
“You are lying to me,” he hissed. You obviously weren’t a very good liar if the blind man could see through you. Then again, you knew his other senses were stronger than they should be, so it wasn’t like he was clueless.
“Gimme a second to breathe. I’ll explain.” You didn’t really have any good options and you had no energy to try and see a better path. You took a deep breath.
“I’m a witch, or at least that’s the word most people use. I see things that others don’t. Know things I shouldn’t and try really hard to avoid getting tangled in shit like last night. I’m not going to out you, and even if I did, you could report me for unlicensed magic usage or reckless endangerment or some shit and I would be fucked. They would test me and the evidence wouldn’t lie. I’ve been trying to lie low and mind my business.” You took another breath. “I just want to go home and sleep for a week. I’m not going to do anything to harm you or the people you care about.”
Matt stood quietly for a few moments before removing the scarf from his face. “I believe you. Why did you help Karen if you are trying to lay low?””
“She came into my shop a few weeks ago and I saw danger in her future. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t so I put a sort of trace on her, I guess you might call it. To tell me if she was in real danger. It called me and I came running.”
“You put your freedom at risk for a stranger?” Matt said, just slightly incredulous.
“What was the alternative? Knowingly let someone with that much blood in their future meet their fate alone? I guess she wouldn’t have been. You seem to be her friend?” You asked cautiously.
Matt gave a small nod.
“I guess she’ll be alright then. I should’ve looked closer and not assumed-” Matt interrupted your rant as you realized your almost death would have been useless.
“No, you did the right thing. Those men were going to hurt her and you stopped them before they could get far. Thank you.” He was so sincere, his face so soft and kind.
“No problem,” you said. “ Is she okay?”
“Yeah. A couple bruises and a minor concussion, but she’s had worse. You on the other hand, almost died. I’m guessing your … abilities … are why you are still breathing and why I can hear your injuries knitting themself back together.”
“You would be correct. I’ll heal a bit faster cuz of my inherent magic.”
“You could do a lot of good with those abilities of yours. You could keep your identity hidden-”
“Let me stop you right there, my friend.” You managed to sit up. “I am on empty. I couldn’t move a fucking feather if your life depended on it. I’m going to be out of commission for a while. And even if I wasn’t, I don’t usually have enough energy to do anything on a regular basis.”
Matt looked thoughtful. “I’m sorry to disappoint,” you said sincerely.
“No, I’m sorry for being inconsiderate. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you always running so low? I thought magic users could refuel in different ways and store up their strength.”
“You would be correct. My specific type of ‘feeding’,” gods, you hated that word. “Is difficult for me to do inconspicuously and is very um… not quite intimate, but definitely not something you do with a stranger.”
“You feed on people?” Matt asked, posture stiffening and gaze hardening.
“No! I mean yes, but not like what you are thinking. I’m not a vampire or a soul sucker or anything like that. I don’t hurt people when I do it. I mean I could if I actively tried to, but I don’t do that.” You hurriedly tried to explain something you really hadn’t wanted to divulge.. There was a reason you kept yourself off the registry. It was bad enough to be a witch in this day and age. A witch who fed from people would have to have an active guardian and would live with restricted rights unless they've reached a certain age with a clean record. You never wanted that.
“Explain.”
“You know how people give off heat, right? And you can hug someone and get warm without stealing their body heat and hurting them, as long as you aren’t significantly cooler in temp than they are. It just kinda passes between you and builds up? It’s sort of like that but with life force for me. I feed through touch, mainly. People give off an aura of sorts which is just the energy they are sending into the world. It all is connected in some way and I need it to be able to use my magic and to live. So touching people for extended periods of time would give me energy without hurting them.” Gods, you hadn’t told anyone about your abilities in years. Not since your parents disowned you. You couldn’t find anything on the internet that showed a precedent for a feeding method like yours. Only things about witches draining the life from others to strengthen themselves or bleeding people in a sort of pseudo-vampiric way.
“Then why don’t you feed more often? If it is as harmless as you say, I’m sure someone like yourself could find a willing person to ‘spend some time with’ regularly.”
You blush, understanding what he meant. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried. “I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work out well with strangers. Some of them I can handle a hug from and everythings fine. I can keep myself from hearing and seeing them in ways I don’t want to. Others are just… wrong. They don’t have good intentions or aren't good people and that is enough to push past my walls. It uh, it hurts. Physically. If I move away fast enough, it's just an electric shock. But if they don’t let go, it’s like I’m burning. I’ve spent so much time on my own and moving between places that I don’t have time or the people skills to build a long term connection with others. And I don’t try to find people because I don’t want to risk getting found out or experiencing that overwhelming attack on my senses from someone who my magic doesn't like.”
“How are you still alive then? If you avoid touching people?”
“I get a little bit of juice from what's in the air around groups of people. It's not always comfy but it doesn't hurt like direct contact. I’ll go to a club and sit somewhere for a bit and soak up the energy. Like osmosis. I call it filter feeding. It’s not much, but it keeps my heart pumping.”
You trusted Matt not to turn you in. After talking for a bit longer, you found out that he kept his abilities private as well. It wasn’t illegal in the way you were, but it gave the two of you something to connect over. He didn’t agree with restricting and registering people just because they had both magic and were human.
Vampires weren’t restricted, they managed themselves. The same with most pack shifters. Law enforcement only stepped in if the Alpha’s couldn’t manage their own people. Just about every other supernatural creature was free from documentation. The farthest mandatory registration went for them was putting their species on their driver’s license. If a new supe was made, they would be reported in the next census. Everything else was optional. Why? Because these species fall into the ageless category. Vampires, incubi, succubi, anything that fed directly on people, don’t age. Shifters age slowly, the stronger they are, the slower they age and they often have overlapping abilities or sub specifications like siren, mermaid, or hunter. When the supernatural world went public in the 1700s and later was fully integrated around the 1800s, the ageless were so deeply woven into governments and monarchies. They were the richest, most powerful people, so they made the laws in their favor. The ageless took advantage of the fact that most witches were covenless at that point in time. They turned witches into the new ‘other’ while also carefully cultivating what a witch was. Powerful, multifaceted, generally female, and unpredictable. Those with small magicks like telling the weather from anywhere in the world, hearing heart beats, even something as powerful as healing were just differentials, not real witches. Those who did spells and manipulated the world around them were the real witches.
Things had been going well for the witch community in the recent decades. You’d been hopeful about being able to come out of the broom closet fully one day. But a hateful president quickly demolished all progress and whipped the country into a witch hating frenzy. The current president was working to repair the damage, but it was too little too late. Things would only get worse from here.
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Finding and Feeling (3.1): The Move
Pairing Type: M/M
Rating: M/Language, sexual themes
Warnings: Wingwoman Mary-Beth, mention of gelding, Kieran being nervous, shopping, sapphic Mary-Beth and Tilly, mention of brothels, gift giving, theft, girls and the gays
Summary: New camp means new clothes and a new chance.
Other Chapters
Kieran never really imagined he’d get the opportunity to get new clothes, but when the gang got to moving camp he was all but thrown into the wagon by Miss Grimshaw. She claims that he stinks worse than the horses. Mary-Beth is all too enthusiastic to drag him into the general store of Rhodes for some clothes.
“I was thinkin’...” She mutters as she digs through the shelves. “Since ya ain’t too mad at Bill anymore-”
“Who said I ain’t mad at ‘em?”
“Well, yer back ta starin’ and blushin’, now aren’t you?”
Kieran’s cheeks heat at that. “Shut up…”
Of course, Kieran is still terrified of the bear of a man. However, after he caught Bill watching him open a bottle of coat tonic with a grin on his face, he’s gotten over the worst of it. Once he told Mary-Beth about it, she said she’d seen Bill snooping around Branwen quite a bit and that was more than enough proof for them both that Bill was the one leaving little gifts. Kieran insists it means nothing, Mary-Beth is certain it means Bill is smitten.
“I know Bill likes blue.” Mary-Beth mutters. “He wears it a lot at least. And he’s got this awful suit for fancy heists, blue too.”
Kieran shuffles awkwardly on his feet, wishing for just a moment that his eyes were blue.
Mary-Beth suddenly hands him an overshirt. “This one, perfect with that shirt he wears all the time.”
Kieran takes the shirt with a scrunched brow. “Ya think me matchin’ will make him not wanna geld me anymore?”
“It’s all about subtext.” Mary-Beth says, standing to look at the accessories. “I read a book last week and--”
“Aw, ya ain’t makin’ me inta one a’ them damsels, are ya?”
“Do ya want his attention or not?”
“Not if yer gonna make me look silly.” Kieran says, trying to forget the image of himself all dressed up in what Bill might like.
“Oh, you’ll look nice.” Mary-Beth smiles. “Pretty even.”
“I ain’t pretty.”
“Sure you are.” Mary-Beth shoves his shoulder lightly. “If I liked boys, you’d be my first pick.”
Kieran’s cheeks heat again and he looks at his shoes. “Just don’t go too crazy.”
“Just this.” She hands him a neckerchief and pushes him to the counter.
After a few minutes of fumbling with the new clothes in the alleyway, Kieran emerges feeling very unlike himself. He’s dressed in browns and blues, not unlike Bill’s typical outfits. New everything aside from the gunbelt he took off that O’Driscoll at Six Point. Like a new man.
It’s the squealing that makes him feel odd though.
Tilly has rejoined Mary-Beth in time to see him come out and both girls are chattering away at how he looks so much better than before. Karen, not quite one for squealing, just smiles and knocks his hat crooked.
“Aw, what’s the fuss.” Uncle mutters, woken from his sleep in the wagon.
“Go back ta sleep, old man.” Karen scolds. “Ain’t no brothels in this town.”
Uncle sighs, mindlessly finding the newly bought crate of whiskey and taking a bottle, paying nothing else any mind.
“Got an idea.” Karen mutters as she grabs his wrist.
They walk around the side of the general store, leaving Mary-Beth and Tilly to their own clueless flirting.
“Yer gettin’ Bill some presents of his own.”
Kieran furrows his brow and shakes his head. “I don’t got money.”
“I know.” Karen smirks. “And the feller in the store don’t got any sensibility.”
“What’s that mean?”
Karen stops, turning to Kieran and looking at him like he’s some kind of annoying clown. “It means, I’ll go in there and show off a few things while you find something nice fer Bill and slip out with it.”
“I-I thought Dutch didn’t want any trouble here.”
“Won’t be trouble.” Karen smiles. “Long as you don’t get caught.”
With that, Karen slips inside. Kieran waits until he can hear her boisterous fake laughter, then he naked his way inside. The owner is obviously enamored by the busty blonde snapping his suspenders and pays Kieran no mind. Looking over the shelves, Kieran finds that the only things he knows about Bill are his drinking, his affinity for torture, and his love for his horse. He doesn’t want to make Karen flirt forever, so he settles on the safest bet, alcohol. He can’t read the labels, but he finds the bottle that looks the fanciest and grabs it before making a hasty exit.
On the ride back to camp, Tilly says it’s some kind of rum she’s seen at rich folk’s parties. Mary-Beth takes the ribbon out of her hair and makes a pretty bow around the neck of it. That night, while Bill is on watch, Kieran leaves it on his bedroll and hopes for the best.
#burn month#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#slow burn#fanfic#fanfiction#bill williamson#kieran duffy#kieran duffy x bill williamson#bieran
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The Sound of Mandalore
Chapter 9/20: A Very Fine Jedi
Read on AO3
<;< Chapter 8
Obi-Wan had been pacing back and forth relentlessly when the door to his room finally slid open, allowing Anakin entrance. He walked in carrying a big bag, which he set down on Obi-Wan’s bed. As he began to unzip it, Obi-Wan broke his anxious silence.
“Anakin, what are you doing here?” he said, wringing his hands. He had not expected to see his young friend anywhere near Mandalore. It was sort of like two very different worlds colliding and his brain couldn’t make sense of it.
“Senator Amidala asked me to escort her,” Anakin answered with a poorly concealed smile. “I wanted to see what you were up to. And she thought you might need some help socializing with the elite of Mandalore.”
“I take offense to that,” Obi-Wan replied, though the words held no bite. His mind was in panic mode, and any high-level thought seemed decidedly impossible at this time. “H—how are things at the temple?” he asked, “The war—”
“It’s good,” Anakin said reassuringly. “I might be getting a padawan soon!”
“What?!” If his eyes could have popped out of his skull, they would have.
Anakin began pulling out some finer clothes from the bag, and as he did, Obi-Wan expressed his concern. “As much as I appreciate the gesture, I highly doubt anything of yours will fit me.”
“They’re not mine, they’re for you. Another of Padmé’s brilliant ideas.” Anakin grinned, “We picked them up just in case, and it looks like we were right. Did you really not bring anything nicer, Master?”
“You’ll forgive me if I wasn’t expecting to be attending a high-class party while assigned here as a teacher.” Obi-Wan thought for the second time tonight about the whole reason he’d been sent away in the first place: his attachment. In the eyes of the council, that meant his attachment most of all to Anakin. “Did the council really approve of your being sent to visit me?” he asked, glancing doubtfully at his young apprentice.
The look Anakin gave was all the answer he needed. “Well, maybe not specifically. Technically I am on a meditative retreat.”
Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his hand over his forehead. This boy would be the death of him.
“Here,” Anakin said, placing an elegant set of navy-blue clothes with silver accents in Obi-Wan’s arms. They were Mandalorian in design, and much more form fitting than his usual robes, though still loose enough to move around comfortably.
“Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly.
“Absolutely. I’ll see you down there, Master.” Anakin clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder, who could only stare back as if stunned, and Anakin exited the room.
“Always on the move,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself, sighing as he laid out the clothes on the bed. Well, might as well get this over with.
After putting the clothes on, Obi-Wan surveyed his appearance in the mirror, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt and his sleeves. He was used to much wider sleeves, and these ones almost itched with how close they were to his skin. They were nice enough, though. The dark navy cape with a powder blue lining resting on his shoulders was a fine touch. He would definitely fit in with the party.
A knock came at the door, and Obi-Wan called out that it was okay to enter, wondering what Anakin could possibly want with him now. Instead, Tal Merrik came in, taking in the Jedi’s appearance as he did.
“You clean up nice, Kenobi,” he observed, just a hint of something hidden behind his compliment. Before he could even process that the Senator had invaded his room, he spoke again. “Satine won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.”
Obi-Wan froze for a moment, ice filling his veins. What had given him that idea? He averted his gaze and began to fold his old robes up, placing them on the bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. “Is there something I can do for you, Senator?”
“Oh, please,” Merrik sneered, “Nobody is that clueless, especially not a Jedi. That much I know.” When Obi-Wan didn’t answer, he continued. “She could hardly look away when all you wore were those drab beige rags, imagine how she’ll behave now you’re dressed as well as Mandalorian royalty!”
“She looks at me no differently than she looks at anyone else,” Obi-Wan continued to deflect, finding it suddenly very difficult to breathe. “She is a very kind and generous ruler.”
Merrik raised his eyebrows. “There’s no need to be so defensive, Master Jedi, you two clearly have a history. You’re a powerful Jedi in the prime of his life, I’d be concerned if Satine didn’t notice you. Who doesn’t love a good forbidden romance every once in a while?”
“I do hope you’re joking,” Obi-Wan said, trying to force a laugh but failing miserably. Fear, instead, took root in his response.
“Not at all. There is nothing more irresistible to a woman than a man who is in love with her.”
Obi-Wan felt his stomach give a sickening twist. “In love with her?” he said with a rasp.
“It’s quite obvious, Master Kenobi,” Merrik said innocently, “Oh, but I forgot… you Jedi are not supposed to love. How unfortunate, especially because she thinks she’s in love with you.”
The floor dropped out from beneath Obi-Wan. He couldn’t breathe. What he was saying couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t.
“That’s impossible,” he countered, forcing himself to believe the words. “Any feelings she may have had ended a long time ago.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” the Senator spoke.
Could he be telling the truth? They had done practically nothing but argue since he arrived. It had been well over a decade and a half. They were different people now, had different responsibilities. His mind ran off with him.
“In any case, I am sure she’ll get over it soon enough,” Merrik finished, “She is a duchess, after all.”
Oh, yes, she was the Duchess.
And he was a Jedi.
Obi-Wan was mortified. Not only had he been personally struggling with his attachments—the entire purpose for him being here—he had evidently been so obvious about it, that even a total stranger had picked up on it. Did everyone see it? Had they been whispering about his infatuation with the Duchess behind his back all this time? And where was this idea that she was in love with him coming from? He couldn’t allow himself to think about it.
Already, he had failed the Jedi Council—failed the mission they sent him on and the personal growth they’d hoped he would achieve. If anything, he was in worse shape than he’d started out in.
He knew he shouldn’t blame the Council for sending him headfirst into an environment that would inevitably reignite his feelings for Satine, but what did they expect would happen? He hadn’t been near her in so long, he could have forgotten about her, never seen her again. Perhaps that would have been better.
Leaving her the first time was one of the hardest things he’d done, it was foolish to believe that sending him to Mandalore wouldn’t dredge up old hurt. He had been foolish to think he’d be able to manage it.
“I cannot stay here,” he said, immediately turning to grab a stack of his clothes to throw in his luggage crate. For once in his life, he was listening to his instinct to run instead of fight. This was one problem that couldn’t be solved with a lightsaber, and he didn’t trust himself to solve it diplomatically. Not right now.
Merrik watched as he threw things haphazardly in the box. “I’ll be sorry to see you go. It’s a shame that things had to turn out this way. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, still utilizing that nasty false friendliness that Obi-Wan was now starting to pick up on. This man was jealous. He had intentions with Satine, and he saw Obi-Wan as a threat.
There were so many things wrong with that, that he wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Words—one of his most reliable weapons—for once failed him, so he shook his head no. He had revealed too much already. He required deep meditation to move past what Merrik had revealed to be the truth:
That Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was still hopelessly, madly, every bit in love with Satine as he had been all those years ago.
He couldn’t possibly leave fast enough.
“I commend you Jedi,” Merrik spoke idly, “to swear a life of no attachment, to deny oneself of one’s deepest desires… it is truly a sacrifice to be commended.”
It took all of Obi-Wan’s restraint not to throw Merrik forcefully from the room. He did not want to hear any more about how he was supposedly the ‘perfect Jedi.’ He didn’t. He’d come all the way here to work past his attachment problem, and had only made it worse. If word of this got back to the Jedi Council, he’d be in deeper trouble than he already was.
“Say nothing of this to Satine,” he instead ordered in clipped tones.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Merrik replied, suppressing a smirk as he turned to exit the room. “Goodbye, Master Kenobi. I’m sure you’ll make a very fine member of the Jedi Council.”
After he had gone, Obi-Wan slung his Jedi robe over his fine clothes, concealing them mostly from view. Leaning heavily against his luggage crate, he forced himself to take a moment to breathe. That conversation had taken so much out of him, and it completely upset the balance he thought he’d finally found.
He remembered all those years ago, those last few hours spent with Satine. He’d told her he loved her. She said it too. And yet, they both agreed he would have to leave. Sure, they had entertained the idea of him staying for a while, but it was in the way that children spoke of traveling to some far-flung galaxy beyond the unknown regions. It was impossible, but it was such a nice thought that they pretended it could be true right up until the very end. When it came time to leave, he had prayed that she would say the word, that they could live in their childish fantasy, but the ramp to their shuttle closed and she disappeared from view. He had never been so unbalanced in his life.
It took a great deal of counseling, mostly from Qui-Gon, to regain some semblance of the Jedi Padawan he’d been before he ever met her. He flung himself back into his studies, into following the Jedi Code to the letter, much to the chagrin of his old Master. He convinced himself that he was unattached, all while ignoring those strings of his heart that remained connected to Satine, and even some to Qui-Gon. Those he hadn’t truly noticed were there until suddenly they weren’t, severed in a reactor core on Naboo.
Now that balance was gone again. All that work, for nothing. Tal Merrik had seen right through him, perhaps even seen him more clearly than he saw himself. He realized now that he’d been fooling himself for the last sixteen odd years. He’d never stopped looking for her. He watched every single speech she made on the HoloNet. He kept a box of keepsakes from their year together under his bed.
Now try telling him that that was the behavior of an unattached Jedi. You would be wrong.
The only thing there was to do was leave. Now. Before it could go any further than it already had. He had made a promise to the Jedi. A promise to himself, and to her. This was the way he could do good in the galaxy, and the galaxy needed him now more than ever. He would go back to the Temple and do whatever it took to get past this. He had to.
He didn’t know who he would be if he didn’t.
-.-.-
When Senator Merrik returned to the party, he came up beside Hondo, who was now being forcefully held at bay by a guard. For reasons unknown, he was still being allowed to sip serenely from a glass, enjoying the celebration from afar.
“Oh good, you’re back,” he said to the Senator, “I’m hoping that Jedi can use his mind tricks on the Duchess. I want those children in the competition.” Merrik rolled his eyes, accepting a glass from one of the servants that passed by. “For Mandalore, of course. You have to do it!” the pirate finished, grabbing two more glasses of his own.
“Wouldn’t do you any harm either, now would it, Mr. Ohnaka,” Merrik responded sarcastically.
Hondo chuckled, proud of himself. “You know, I did think of that.”
They were silent for a moment, observing the Duchess as she spoke with Merrik’s fellow Senator from Naboo.
“I do think it would be good for her,” Merrik mused, “She spends entirely too much time in this palace. I think it’s time we get her away from the stresses of Mandalorian politics for a moment, surely no harm can come from that.”
“Precisely my opinion,” Hondo agreed.
Merrik handed off his now empty glass to Hondo, who was starting to struggle juggling four glasses at once. “I shall talk to her,” he stated, “No need to involve the Jedi.”
With that, he headed off to find Satine, interrupting her conversation with a bow.
“May I have this dance, Duchess?” he asked, reaching his arm out toward her.
Satine hesitated for only a moment before bowing in return and excusing herself from her other companions. She accepted his outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to the center of the ballroom and away from the others.
Obi-Wan could hear the gently flowing music as it echoed down the deserted hall. His luggage crate hovered behind him, struggling to keep up with his quickened pace.
As he turned the corner, he just about ran into Anakin, who exclaimed, “Woah, Obi-Wan!” placing his hands on his shoulders and immediately noting the brown outer layer he wore. Obi-Wan stopped. “Where are you going with that on? You know you don’t always need to be wearing your robe, right?” his young friend said teasingly, fiddling with the rough fabric of the collar.
“Anakin, I need to leave,” Obi-Wan said, offering no further explanation.
Anakin glanced over his shoulder to scan for Padmé, but he couldn’t see her at the moment. “Right now?” he asked, studying Obi-Wan’s face. He looked anguished.
“Please, Anakin, I can’t stay here.”
His pained eyes pleaded with Anakin, betraying more emotion than he’d ever seen from his old Master, which silenced any further questioning he might have let escape his mouth.
“Okay, just let me go get Padmé, I’ll meet you at my ship.”
Obi-Wan nodded gratefully, his eyes strangely out of focus. Anakin was unsettled enough by this behavior to assume whatever was happening was of the utmost urgency, and he’d do whatever he could to help his distressed friend. Anakin patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder and rushed off to find the Senator.
The throne room had been vacated in favor of the ballroom by this point in the evening, and Obi-Wan stopped in the center of it. His hands fiddled with a small device containing a holorecording before he worked up the courage to place it on her throne. He took one last look around the chamber, resting for just a moment longer on the stained-glass detailing before turning and exiting through the grand entry doors.
They closed behind him with a thud.
He was leaving. Here on Mandalore, he’d been suffocating, unable to draw a breath. And now, he truly believed that the only place where he could be saved was back at the Jedi Temple, forsaking his mission and even his direct orders from the Council.
He’d never tell them what led him to behave so uncharacteristically, not unless forced. But he had to get back, and soon.
Until then, he wouldn’t be able to breathe.
-.-.-
Chapter 10 >>
#obitine#obitine fanfic#my fanfiction#obi-wan kenobi#satine kryze#korkie kryze#sound of music au#the sound of mandalore#mandalore#star wars#star wars fanfic#star wars: tcw#tcw fanfic#hondo ohnaka#mandalorian ball#tal merrik#anakin skywalker#padme amidala#chapter 9
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21- Do Something...
His P.O.V.
“You get off him! Let him go! Get away!”
Jane yells and growls in the defense of the boy she thinks is her friend. Time will tell if she can figure out that K is my brother, never her friend. She pulls at the two boys who snatched K from her bed and are tugging him out of her door, though it isn’t a struggle. It’s only Jane trying to stop them, K already knows what he’s done and he’s cooperating with his head low. No one does he speak to her, probably knowing he’s pushed his luck enough and any sort of contact whatsoever after this will surely piss me off even more.
Here I go about my peaceful morning, excited to pull Jane from her slumber to show her something new today, or even better, perhaps have her show me something new with those powers, and I find K sleeping beside her. For a moment I was disappointed to realize she will be spending the day learning a punishment instead of some new power I planned on getting her to manage. But then a wonderful idea sparks to mind. A wonderful spark of terror, and opportunity to see how much, if any, power she will show to defend the one person she felt comfortable enough to sleep in front of.
“Pan, what are you doing!” she gives up on trying to stop them and she comes at me now.
She goes to snatch my clothes at my chest but I shift behind her. Her face nearly makes me laugh, she’s so stupidly clueless, so small and angry when she whips around to glare at me.
“Where are you taking him?” she growls again.
I look to the other boys pulling K from her bedroom. Though he knows better than to fight back he still looks back at her just before they pull him out of view.
“Pan!” her voice full of rage, I look at her. “Where are you taking him?” she spits lowly.
I lean close to her naive face, so she’ll back up and when she does I sneer, “Don’t worry about it,”
My smirk enrages her more, though her fear stops her from swinging at me, I can see it.
“If you hurt him-”
“What?” my intrigued eyes pop, eager to see something new from her, “What are you going to do, Jane?”
She pauses, her determined eyes dying inside. I don’t ask her to intimidate her, despite how it comes off, I truly wish her to be provoked enough to unlock some power she hasn’t tried yet.
“You gonna stop me?”
She stares into my eyes, wanting so badly to do something. Behind my dare my hope of her snapping and showing me her real power dwindles. Hoping any of that power will surface through her emotions, hoping she will have some sort of control over it this time.
“Don’t kill him,” she whispers.
“Stop me, then.” I dare her.
The light in her eyes wants to fight back, so badly it does. She nearly does. Something inside of her builds up, wanting to stand up to me. But she exhales and looks down at the ground, giving up. I release a small exhale of my own in disappointment. I had really hoped to seen something new from her this day. A better measurement at how strong her source really is. I scoff and brush passed her thinking just another couple nudges and she might prevail. I whistle down the hall, calling the boys back.
They bring K to halt in front of me and all Jane can do is watch with her eyes wide. So unnecessarily helpless, I’m nearly disgusted. I’ll train that out of her real quick. If she wants to stand there and do nothing, I’ll find the limit that breaks that. I’ll walk her up to the line and shove her over it if it means she’ll access her magic and do something.
“What are you doing?” she begs in anger.
“What would you do to save your friend, Jane, dear?” I play with her emotions and approach K with a hand on the back of his neck. I give him a look and drop a small message in his head.
Hold your breath, this is gonna hurt.
His eyes nod in obedience and I light the white bolt of a painful orb in my hand on his neck. It blasts bright and loud, knocking him forward and to the ground, the others releasing him. He makes no sound and hits the ground hard.
“K!” she shrieks and falls to his aid on the floor as well.
I send another message, It’s for her training, brother. Hold on.
I drop another bolt, sending him across the floor.
“Stop!” Jane cries, watching him hit her bed frame.
“Make me,” I tell her.
Her cruel eyes match mine as she stands and she grinds her teeth, “What the hell do you want from me!”
“You want me to stop,” I blast him again, “Stop me.” I do it again.
“I-I can’t!” she urges, trying to run to him but I grab her forearm tight.
She tries to pull away but gives up when I yank her forward to put my face in hers, “What’s stopping you?” I ponder aloud. “Don’t you want to save him?” I open my palm to him, white bolt hot and ready to go.
She eyes it, her eyes are torn as if she wants to grab the bolt and use it herself but also afraid to touch it. Then her eyes flicker back to me and she’s about to break as she nods.
“Then do it.” I order and release her arm as well as the bolt.
She cries out a loud ‘no’ one more time then the bolt hits K. He’s unconscious now, breathing still, but out. I scan his vitals from the distance and conclude he’s probably done taking the bolts unless I want to conjure up a healing potion. Jane runs to him now and I snap at K’s body. The others watching step into rhythm to collect him. They do so and take him from her room again. Jane looks up at me and stands, anger seething from her skin. So much emotion, so much power yet she controls none of it, harness or uses none of it. It’s infuriating, I scoff again and turn to leave her alone in her room, believing she failed at protecting the only friend she might have.
“How could you do that?” she hushes quietly.
I stop walking, turning back to her, she stares at me, tears in her eyes but I know she won’t let them fall.
A smile creeps over my lips, “I’ll do what it takes to get you comfortable in your magic,”
“But he’s your friend,” she spits the last word, “How could you do that to him?” she’s nearly shouting.
I narrow my own gaze, “K knows everything I do is for the greater of us all. Including using him to push you into your power,” I pause, “And K is not my friend,” I step closer, to make the next statement all the more malicious, “He’s my brother,”
She grinds her teeth, shaking her head, “You’re insane. If you think I’m using any of this magic for you-”
I can’t help but stop her, “Oh, you’ll do more than that for me, love. You’re entire reservoir was made personally for me,”
“What are you talking about?”
I roll my head to the side with a light laugh, “Time will show,”
Her disbelief scoffs through her angry pain, “What do you want?”
She’s so angry, so alone and frustrated. So much fury I just know she is wishing she could let loose on me and perhaps, is that the want to kill me I see in her eyes? A new joy of a new game surfaces. Making her admit she wants me dead, it’s always my favorite game to play with those who will never make it happen. I walk to her slowly, making her feel as small as she is, a hard mask on that always forces her to look away first, and I ask her the same question back, curious to see if she’ll lie.
“What do you want?”
She chews on her jaw, she wants to say it.
“Say it,” I press.
She looks down, and I step closer. I grab her chin, squeezing her soft skin in my grasp and forcing her to look me in the eyes. Her eyes widen at the touch and she’s too afraid to pull away yet still so angry. I can see her fury I wish she’d just do something about it. Just use that power, grow it, something, anything.
“Say it.” I demand one last time.
She rips her face from my hand and holds the mean glare, her eyebrows pointed at me.
“I want to kill you,” she admits finally.
I smirk in satisfaction, “There isn’t killing what won’t die,” I tell her.
Her face changes, she’s shocked, perhaps realizing I’m right.
“Besides, I got this feeling you won’t try,”
She’s speechless. And after seeing her not do a thing to stop me from taking her ‘friend’, I mean what I say. This day is the first many that she’ll find herself in need of her magic. I’ll do anything to push her to change my words, make her make me believe something else. Show me she can do something about it if she really wanted to. Yet she didn’t.
#neverland#screenwriting#peter pan fanfic#peter pan#screenplay#peterpan x reader#the promised neverland#tinkerbell#long reads#peter pan fandom
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Pairing: Bang Chan (Chris) x f!reader (Y/N)
Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU
Content Warning: Mentions of Nicotine Use, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption, Y/N gets very drunk
A/N: CHAPTER FOURRRR. Doesn’t Bang Chan just seem like he would drop everything to take care of a drunk girl in the most precious way possible? Just saying. Special appearances by oc!Haewon, 3RACHA, and Hyunjin.
Chapter 4
The bedroom floor was littered with clothing. Skirts, blouses, blazers, dresses, but nothing felt quite perfect for the occasion. This was going to be the first work-function Y/N had attended since moving to Korea, and there would be colleagues from all over the world in attendance. The company she worked for had a presence in most major metropolitan areas, and each year, they held a gala rotating between countries. Last year’s had been in the US, but she hadn’t been a manager then and hadn’t had the privilege of being invited. This year, however, not only had she been invited, but as the only fluent English speaker in the office, she had the task of translating her boss’s speech. She was clueless about what the dress code would be but knew that— to her dismay— all eyes would be on her for a short time tonight.
“I guess you really can’t go wrong with black,” Y/N says to herself, smoothing down the skirt of a skin-tight number. It wasn’t too short in the leg, hitting just below the knee, and the sleeves were long enough to cover most of the half-sleeve tattoos she had on both arms. The lovely coat she would wear on top would hide the smattering of ink that wasn't covered. A pair of simple black pumps completed the outfit. Y/N only hoped she looked a little more expensive than the clothing was. First impressions mattered in these sorts of situations.
She had gone as simple as she knew how with her makeup; she tended to go dark but tried to go for something that felt appropriate. Light eye makeup and a darker red lip. Doing anything with her hair was usually pointless, her curls liked to do what they wanted whether she attacked them with a flat iron or not. Still, she did her best to tame them with hair spray and hair pins where she could.
Getting ready for the event had taken up the better part of her afternoon. The whole time, she could feel a sense of dread bubbling to the surface. Y/N had never been the type to be put in the spotlight, and she hated big crowds. Even more than that, she wasn’t very social at all and wasn’t entirely ready to meet hundreds of new people in the space of a few hours. She knew she was going to be exhausted tomorrow and hoped that one day would be enough time to recuperate before Monday.
A ping from the bed alerted her of a new text. Y/N plops herself onto the bed to read it:
1 New Message
Channie 🖤🐺
Whatcha doin’?
Y/N
Getting ready for a work thing.
Gotta leave in a bit, don’t know if I’ll have my phone on me for most of the night.
You home?
Channie 🖤🐺
I’ll see you in the courtyard
—
Chris is caught off guard for a moment. Y/N? Going out on a weekend? Unheard of. He knew she tended to enjoy the weekend solitude, using that time to decompress and relax when the week had been hard. He throws on a pair of slides and heads down to wait for her.
When Y/N walks out of the sliding glass doors of the building, Chris is almost speechless. He’d never seen her this dolled up before, let alone in something so form-fitting. She was breathtaking. She smiles from across the courtyard, and he can only do so much to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. He holds his hand out to her as she approaches.
“You’re making me look like a dog next to you, you know,” he chuckles.
“Wow, coming from a real-life, world-famous idol, that’s very flattering of you,” she says shyly. “It’s not too much?”
“Let me get a better look,” Chris holds the girl out at arm's length, looking at her quizzically. He spins her around once just to get the full effect. “It’s for sure too much,” he nods, a serious expression melting into a joking smile. “So what is this work thing and who are you trying to impress that’s not me?”
Y/N rolls her eyes and pats him on the chest mockingly. “Oh stop it. It’s sort of a networking summit. All the managers from all the departments in all the regions will be there. Honestly, it’s going to be a nightmare. Can you believe I’m going to have to talk in front of all those people?” She shivers and presses her forehead to his chest. “I don’t wanna go.”
“Have you ever gone to something like this?”
“Never.”
“Ooof,” Chris shudders. “Will you be okay?”
“Maybe once I get a drink or two in me, but who knows.”
“You drink?” Alcohol never bothered him, though it wasn’t his thing. But the thought of Y/N drinking around a huge group of people she didn’t know dress like this made him anxious.
“Rarely. Only in times of duress,” she laughs nervously and holds out her hand. “Christmas, New Year, my birthday, and social engagements where I have to do any sort of public speaking,” she puts down a finger for each list item.
“I could get ready and come with you? It wouldn’t take me too long,” Chris suggests. Y/N lets out a coughing laugh.
“Oh yes, an idol showing up uninvited to a marketing and advertising gala with a random girl surely wouldn’t draw any attention,” her smile is genuine even as she raises an eyebrow mockingly. Chris can tell she doesn’t mean it in a piercing way, but it still stings a little. She held on so tightly to this fear of being in the spotlight that he was afraid she would never open herself up to it. He hoped this wouldn’t be an issue if they ever made things official and went public, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Okay, okay, point taken. Just do me a favor, yeah? One or two and that’s it. And if the soju comes out, pour yourself a safety. You know what a safety is, right? Just fill your glass with water. Korean bosses have this thing about getting their staffs drunk and I won't be there to shoo people away.” He bites his lip and wrinkles his nose. “You’re not taking the bus, are you?”
“No, one of the girls from the office should be here in a second. We’re carpooling,” Y/N looks around his shoulder to check. “I will do my best not to get too sloshed, but under the circumstances, I can’t make any promises.” She winks at him. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry.” A honk rings out in the distance, and Y/N stands on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek, which catches Chris by surprise. “I’ll talk to you soon,” she says as she trots away toward the waiting car.
There was a sense of possessive jealousy that he was fighting back. He knew this wasn’t necessarily a healthy feeling. He never wanted to make her feel caged, and always wanted her to be free to do as she liked. It was a character flaw he intended to fix promptly. He just knew how men’s brains worked all too well, being one himself. If he thought she looked like a bombshell, so would every man who would set their eyes on her this evening.
As his mind starts to wander into this dark territory, he is hit with sudden inspiration for a song and sets off to the studio, humming. Music was always the therapy he needed when he was dealing with feelings he wasn’t accustomed to.
—
There were, admittedly, a lot more people at this event than Y/N had expected. The moment the car pulled up to the venue, Y/N was immediately struck with just how large this event was going to be. Hundreds of people were streaming in and out of the doors and she could feel herself breaking out into a cold sweat.
“Are you alright, unni?” Haewon presses her hand against Y/N’s back.
“I told you, you don’t have to call me that, just call me by my name. I’ll be alright,” she says, unconvincingly. A gusty sigh leaves her lips. “Let’s just get this over with,” she says as the valet pulls the car door open for her. She nods her head at him and links her arms with Haewon.
Networking came easy to Y/N. She was better at masking her anxiety than she thought, forcing a smile, bowing, passing out her business card, and treating others respectfully and formally. It was a bit easier even tonight as there were many English speakers in the crowd. A few familiar faces jumped out at her, giving her some sense of comfort and allowing her to drop her guard a few times throughout the night. But the dread that had been building up was beginning to hit its breaking point as the speech drew ever closer.
She considered herself lucky: it wasn’t a speech she had written, nor was it technically hers to give. Her only job was to go up there, stand beside her boss, and translate the speech as her boss spoke it. There was even a teleprompter, which eased some of her stress. Despite this, the first couple of champagne-laden trays that came toward her left her side one glass lighter. She felt just buzzed enough that she knew she could get through the speech without being nervous but wasn’t buzzed enough that she felt like she would make any glaring mistakes.
It was after the speech wrapped that things started to fall apart. Chris had been right, her boss was doing her best to get everyone hammered. The foreigners had already begun to filter out, no doubt readying themselves for flights back home in the morning, leaving mostly the Korean staff in the venue. Soju had been brought out, and Y/N had been taught that it was rude not to accept a glass poured by someone of a higher rank than herself. Each time she tried to pour water into her glass, her hand would be swatted away. “You shouldn’t pour your own drink,” they would say before pouring her another shot. By the end of the night, she was sure she had been served at least two bottles of soju, and she was no longer as steady in her black pumps as she had been when the night began. Y/N and Haewon make their way back to the car, Haewon holding Y/N as steady as she can as she guides her into the passenger seat.
“Unni, you are so messed up,” Haewon laughs. She pulls the car out of the driveway and starts heading back to Y/N’s apartment. Y/N opens and closes the window a few times before deciding the cool air feels better than the stuffiness of the car.
1 New Message
Channie 🖤🐺
You alive still?
Y/N
Im goin great thanks for aking !1.
It’s like rly hot tonight int it?
—
Chris stifles a frustrated laugh as he gets into his car and starts to drive home. He had made great progress on his song. So far, it was feeling like the sister song to NXT2U and TASTE, with a mellow beat and moody, sensual lyrics. His phone dings again from its spot mounted to his dashboard.
1 New Message
Y/N ✨
I don feel too good
Chris Bahng
I’ll be there in a bit. You’ll be fine.
Chris shakes his head. He isn’t upset per se. He was sure she was put into a stressful situation; she didn’t seem like the type to willingly get this drunk. He could just see it: she was trying to politely decline, and they are probably spending lots of time convincing her she can drink another one. It’s a typical scene they’ve all experienced at least once in their adult lives.
As he pulls up to the building, he can see a younger girl, probably in her early twenties, guiding Y/N to her favorite planter. They stumble together, and the girl does her best to heave Y/N into a sitting position. Y/N fumbles with a lighter, cigarette in hand attempting to light it clumsily, and the girl takes the lighter from her hand to light it for Y/N. The girl gently holds Y/N’s shoulder, no doubt asking her if she’s alright judging from the affirmative nod Y/N gives her. Y/N gives the girl a big hug, rubbing her back and chatting animatedly. The girl begins to walk away, looking back a few times before judging whether it’s safe to leave her alone. Chris waits in his car until the girl pulls away from the curb, knowing Y/N wouldn’t want him to be seen by one of her colleagues.
“Hey princess,” Chris says, sitting next to Y/N and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You doing okay?”
“I am so good, I am totally fine, in fact,” Y/N slurs in response. “I’m not even that drunk, to be honest.”
“I definitely believe you, baby girl,” Chris laughs.
The drunk woman starts pulling off her coat, handing Chris the cigarette, which he promptly puts out. “God, it is like, really hot tonight!” She throws off the coat and holds her arms out, welcoming the cool, fresh air.
Chris catches a glimpse of her arms, tattoos peeking out from underneath the skin-tight sleeves of her dress. He’s only ever seen her arms covered, and now he knew why. She probably had to keep her tattoos covered at the office, and he mostly only saw her on work days. They suit her, he thinks, noting that he'll have to try to see her on a weekend, curious about how many she had.
“Did your speech go smoothly?”
“Oh, standing ovation. I am the queen of public speaking, obviously. I never realized how good at speaking I am!” She snuggles her head into his shoulder.
“Well, I am glad it went well then. Shall we get you to bed?” Chris looks down at Y/N, who has already managed to fall asleep. “Oookay. I have no idea what room you’re in, you gotta wake up for a second, darlin’.” Y/N doesn’t react to his voice, only nuzzling into his shoulder a little deeper and letting out a sleepy sigh. He can’t help but smile.
Chris stands, gently putting his arms underneath her and lifting her. He carries her into the lobby, to the elevator, and bumps the button with his hip. His only real option is to take her up into the dorm, not knowing where in the building she resides. Chris knocks on the dorm door with his foot, and Hyunjin opens it.
“Omo,” Hyunjin gasps, clutching his mouth with one hand and stepping aside to allow Chris into the apartment. “Is she okay?!” He says, in a strange combination of a whisper and a yell.
“She is… very drunk,” Chris says, laying her on the couch. “Do we have any Condition?” Chris walks to the fridge to check.
Hyunjin plops himself on the floor next to the couch, sitting cross-legged facing Y/N.
His elbows rest on the edge of the couch, and his hands cup his chin. “She's pretty, hyung,” he says, wiping a stray hair from her face.
“She’s also mine,” Chris says, having found the little blue bottle he was looking for in the fridge. He sets it on the coffee table. “Well, she will be, anyway. But yeah, I agree. She’s gorgeous,” another smile paints his face, dimples catching the light. “Everyone else asleep?”
Hyunjin shrugs. “I don’t know, probably not.” Hyunjin pauses before speaking again. “You can’t let her sleep in all that makeup,” he waves his hand at Y/N’s face.
“I’ve already tried to wake her up, I think she needs the sleep.”
Hyunjin pops up from the ground, and heads to the bathroom, grabbing a makeup wipe and handing it to Chris. “You can’t. Let her. Ruin. Her skin. I’ll go to bed first,” Hyunjin makes his way back to his bedroom, waving his hand behind him.
Chris takes Hyunjin’s place on the floor beside the couch. He tucks the rest of her hair behind her ear and gently begins to wipe the makeup from Y/N’s face, careful not to wake her. Hyunjin was right, of course. Sleeping in makeup isn’t comfortable. His eyes always felt gummed up in the morning if he fell asleep in his. When he’s finished, he pulls a blanket from the arm of the couch and tucks her into it before resting his back against the seat cushion, where he promptly falls asleep.
#bang chan#bang chan scenarios#bang chan x reader#bang chan imagines#chris bang#christopher bang#skz x reader#skz scenarios#skz#stray kids#christopher bahng#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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