#its not exactly the biggest of their troubles is it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mothhball · 1 month

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five-finger discount

Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies

Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.

Words | 4.4k

Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha

MINORS DNI

INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY

“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.

1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.

It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.

Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.

Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.

With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.

You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.

"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.

"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.

"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.

"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.

"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!

Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.

The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.

“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”

Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”

There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.

“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.

“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”

INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY

The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.

"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.

"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"

"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.

"The other tape."

Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.

"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."

"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.

"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”

Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.

“Open your purse.”

You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"That's mine."

"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.

"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.

"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.

"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”

“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”

“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.

“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.

“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”

“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.

“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.

“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”

Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.

“You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”

“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.

“Ah, so you are hiding something.”

He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.

“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”

Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.

You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.

“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”

“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.

Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!

“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”

“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.

His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.

“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”

Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.

“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”

The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.

“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.

“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”

Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.

You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“

Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.

“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.

The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.

“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”

His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.

“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”

You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.

“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.

“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”

That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.

“On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.

“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.

“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”

You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.

Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.

Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.

Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.

“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”

The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.

INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY

As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.

Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.

“I think that was our best one yet.”

FIN.

tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x you #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #watching the detectives #.moth writes

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tgcg · 5 months

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listen here on youtube

so first of all thanks for 3,000 followers. holy shit. thats 3000 more than i expected so thanks

i really didnt think this blog would get to this point when i made it. and im never gonna get over how kind and encouraging you guys have been for me. unending respect & gratitude guys.

we're closin in on the end of 2023 now and im resolving to keep doing right by you guys and having fun running this blog with yall 🙂 thanks forever

i wanted to do somethin special for it and i thought id share one of my biggest inspirations for interpretin davekat. which is music i think they'd like. when you routinely blast davekat doodles onto mspaint canvases at 2am you need a backing track and these are common choices for me

3 songs for each dude for 3k fwlrs. man thats crazy...

tracklist + lil commentary under readmore

dave zone

1... 21st century pop song -- hymie's basement

this whole album i associate with dave a lot even tho its very depresse mode. i have way too many plays on this song. that beat is so real.

2... vice principal -- why?

that record scratch bit got me bouncing&trouncing manm. ive been listening to this song since i was a lil shitty kid. this voice is my headcanon voice for dave

3... re-do -- modern baseball

get a load of them lyrics son. passage of time, dinosaurs, trouble sleeping, watching movies, fear of death, love of life. recent fave, big fave.

KARKAT ZONE

4... i see failure -- antarctigo vespucci

another new beat 4 me but damn its an anthem. love dudes who shout. self fulfilling prophecies of relationship failure are peak karkat 2 me

5... the minors -- kawai sprite

i have never played friday night funky. i found this album by pure fuckin chance and its great, if you like this song give it a shot. sounds adult swim-y. i associate a lot of songs from this album with kk its a very distinct sound that i just connect with him fsr. the bittersweet sad anger of it

6... exactly where i'm at -- ween

this is a certified karkat classic 4 me. "look at yourself your lips are like 2 flabs of fat, they go front and back and flappity flappity flap". one of my fave things about ween is they have really vivid lyrics and rlly consistently hit this cool spacey, semi-aquatic vibe. i think this is because of drugs that they are awesome, so lets all do more druggs today

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #playlist #goddamn... take care everyone

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such-expensive-mistakes · 7 months

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Superpham AU (part 4)

Original prompt + parts 1-3

Masterpost

-----

It's not the most awkward dinner Lois has ever had, but only because she's dined with literal supervillains before.

Danny is poking at his Mongolian beef with his fork more than he's actually eating it. Lois can hardly blame him; it’s been a difficult few days for her and she’s not the one who just landed in a different dimension from the one she grew up in. But Danny certainly isn’t up to keeping conversation going.

Jon is making a valiant effort, but he seems distracted. He keeps shooting looks at Lois and Clark when he thinks they’re not looking, and while he recounts everything he and Damian got up to (not too much trouble, thankfully, although that wasn’t saying much), he’s less enthusiastic than he would normally be.

Clark keeps shooting Jon worried looks when he thinks Jon isn’t looking. Lois will have to ask him how that conversation went; it seems like it was rough on both of them.

Eventually, even Jon runs out of things to say, and the four of them sit around the table, eating their Chinese takeout in silence.

“So, Danny,” Lois finally says. “I don’t know how the dimension you grew up in differs from this one, but if you have any questions about anything, please ask one of us.”

“It’s not that different,” Danny says. “I mean, it is in some ways, but it’s still Earth, you know?”

Lois isn’t entirely certain she does, but this doesn’t seem to be the time to ask. Maybe when things are less fresh.

Jon has no such compunctions. “What’s the biggest difference?”

Danny looks thoughtful. “You guys have a lot of superheroes here,” he finally says.

“What kind of superheroes did your other world have?” Jon asks eagerly.

“We mostly didn’t,” Danny says. “I mean, I guess Phantom kind of counts. But that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Jon is clearly flabbergasted by this. Lois fights a smile, and she can see Clark doing the same thing. Jon has never known a world without the Justice League, but she and Clark can both remember when superheroes were much, much rarer.

“Most people probably wouldn’t even count Phantom,” Danny says. “The kids mostly did, but a lot of adults didn’t trust him because he was… because he wasn’t exactly human.”

Combined with what Danny said before about that interdimensional portal, this is painting a picture Lois really doesn’t like.

“There are folks like that everywhere, unfortunately,” Clark says. “And you can’t always change their minds. But I believe most people are better than that."

Judging by Danny's expression, he wasn't entirely convinced of that. Lois couldn't blame him; she has enough trouble seeing the good in people the way Clark did, and the other dimension sounds worse than hers in this regard.

Danny doesn’t seem inclined to talk about it any further. Silence lingers for just a beat too long before he speaks. “Oh, the sun’s yellow here. That’s different, too.”

-----

The front door slams, shaking the house, and Jon scrambles into the kitchen.

“Where’s Ma and Pa?” he demands.

Kon mentally says goodbye to his tentative plans for the day. Not that he minds hanging out with Jon, but he’s clearly upset about something. Kon’s good at a lot of things, but emotional conversations is not one of them.

“They’re in town for the day,” Kon says. “You’re lucky they didn’t hear you slam the door like that.”

“Did you know about Danny?” Jon demands.

“Who?”

“Dan-El.”

Clark texted a couple of days ago, telling Kon to call when he had time. Kon has been putting it off, knowing that Clark has better ways of getting in touch with him if there’s a real emergency. That’s starting to seem like a mistake.

He doesn’t answer Jon right away, which Jon seems to take as its own answer.

“Did everyone know but me?” Jon demands.

The thing is, Kon is pretty sure he's not supposed to know about Dan-El. Lois and Clark have never breathed a word about him in Kon's hearing.

He only knows because he spent an afternoon helping Ma go through some old boxes up in the attic and found a box of photos-- mostly of Clark as a kid, but some of Ma and Pa when they were younger.

"Oh goodness," Ma had said, when she'd notices what Kon was looking at. "I keep telling myself I'm going to organize those and put them in an album, but I never get around to it."

She'd sat down next to Kon and looked through the pictures with him, pointing out her favorites and telling stories to accompany them. ("And that one was from just after Clark's tenth birthday-- we had to get a new door because his strength was just coming in and he broke the old one.")

Then Kon had pulled out a photo of a toddler, sitting on the front porch with Pa. He'd thought it was a picture of Clark at first, but Pa's hair was considerably more gray than it was in the pictures from Clark's childhood, and Ma had just told him that the porch had been rebuilt and expanded after Clark broke the old one in tenth grade.

"Oh, that's Daniel," Ma said. She'd gently taken the photo from Kon's hand and ran a finger over not-Clark's face. "He was our first grandson-- Lois and Clark's oldest." She'd gone on to tell him the whole sad story.

There's a small headstone for Daniel Kent in the Smallville cemetery, right next to Pa's parents. Kon thinks it must have been Ma or Pa's idea; there was no body to bury and as far as he knows, Lois and Clark never visit it.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Kon says. “I think it’s just not something they talk about.” Jon doesn’t look convinced, so he adds, “They told you now, right?”

“Only after he showed up!”

“Wait, what?” Kon is starting to think he really should have replied to that message from Clark.

-----

Not for the first time, Clark wishes there was a handbook for this sort of thing. But oddly enough, parenting manuals generally don’t cover how to talk to your long-lost son about his alien heritage. He’s put this off long enough already; Danny had spent most of the previous day out with Lois, picking up all the necessities he didn’t have.

“So…” Danny says, kicking his feet a little. He’s sitting next to Clark on this skyscraper, his feet dangling over the edge. It makes Clark a little nervous, seeing how Danny can’t fly yet, but he also knows he’s fast enough to catch Danny if he were to fall.

"Lois said you're an alien?" The words are softened by the blatant curiosity in Danny's tone, and Clark remembers Lois recounting how excited Danny was to meet J'onn and to see space from the Watchtower.

It's a sentiment Clark can understand. He's traveled through space and met aliens both hostile and friendly. He regularly meets with his colleagues on an orbiting space station. And yet, seeing his adopted planet from space still fills him with awe.

"When I was born, my parents— my birth parents— already knew our planet, Krypton, was dying," Clark begins. It's not an easy story to tell, but the grief is old. Not gone, but distant. It's a place and a people he will never know except through stories and the archives in the Fortress— but those, at least, he can share. He tells Danny this, too, and promises to take him to the Fortress soon. It would be easier if Danny could fly, but he'll make it work.

"You should talk to Kara, too," Clark adds.

"Who's Kara?"

"My cousin. Right now she's in space, on a Justice League mission, but you'll meet her when she gets back. She was a teenager when Krypton was destroyed; she has firsthand memories." He’ll save explaining the part where she got caught in suspended animation for later; he’s dumped a lot of information on Danny already.

“You said something the other night about yellow sun radiation?” Danny asks.

“It’s what gives Kryptonians our power, here on Earth,” Clark says.

“And what powers are those, exactly?” Danny seems more hesitant than Clark would usually expect of a teenager finding out he’s going to develop superpowers— but then, they already know Danny grew up in a world where that sort of thing was feared and looked down upon.

“Enhanced sense, enhanced strength and speed, flight, invulnerability— there are others, but those are the main ones to expect.”

Danny nods thoughtfully.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #superpham au #fanfic #dc x dp fic #the continuity for the supers gives me a headache so I'm sticking with the origins I know best #slightly less angst this time #slightly more setup for Shenanigans

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duhnova · 7 months

Text

Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book.

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees.

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told.

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult.

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature.

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.”

“You a dancer?”

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.”

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly.

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.”

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger.

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools.

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you.

“I’m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you.

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top.

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin.

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?”

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little.

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction.

“Cheol!”

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man.

“Hiya boss… Look.”

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu.

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly.

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country.

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine.

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks.

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold.

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was.

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair.

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.”

“Sunday?”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.”

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes.

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly.

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again.

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly.

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.”

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?”

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning.

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups.

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt.

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.”

“Has he heard of Abba?”

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light.

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe.

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true.

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again.

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower.

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic.

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer.

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from.

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down.

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner.

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club.

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously.

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.”

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it.

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth.

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light.

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass.

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office.

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies.

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.”

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out.

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box.

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register.

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered.

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into.

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist.

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.”

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in.

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing.

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out.

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together.

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering.

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully.

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.”

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies.

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter.

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting.

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.”

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back.

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you.

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips.

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.”

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.”

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely.

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.”

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly.

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound.

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you.

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again.

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat.

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard.

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly.

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting.

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.” He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice.

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside.

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet.

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself.

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot.

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car.

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing.

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top.

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed.

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster.

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with.

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown.

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was.

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag.

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow.

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.”

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today.

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male.

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true.

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels.

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.”

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section.

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?”

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?”

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section.

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.”

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.”

“You speak really well.”

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out.

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club.

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?”

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own.

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!”

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road.

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club.

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in.

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.” Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe.

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you.

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk.

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.”

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning.

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street.

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more.

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone.

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders.

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock.

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels.

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you.

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you.

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak. He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille.

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk.

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little.

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest.

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.”

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get.

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees.

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him.

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble.

“Can I touch you?�� It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly.

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement.

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body.

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders.

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining.

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly.

“Am I a god now baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes.

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips.

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first.

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies.

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on.

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing.

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you.

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it.

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.”

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you.

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been.

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him.

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out.

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on.

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip.

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side.

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body.

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk.

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge.

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him.

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again.

“Still think I belong on Vogue?” You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you.

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title.

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs.

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.”

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side.

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully.

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you.

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs.

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently.

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself.

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding.

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties.

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down.

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you.

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer.

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it.

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells.

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics.

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs.

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight.

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks.

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol.

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip.

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice.

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the fic!

#svthub #svthub.collab #scoups #seungcheol #seugncheol smut #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seunghceol imagine #seventeen imagine #scoups fluff #scoups smut #scoups angst #scoups imagine

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00ops1e · 6 months

Text

despite being your ever-loving and caring partner, König was a man, and just like any other, he has needs… that’s what got you into this position. and a compromising one at that,

wc: 750

NSFW 18+, cw: i don’t think there are any??? (please lmk if i missed anything i will gladly add it)

You lay there, face up on the edge of your shared bed. König stood before you, a king gazing upon his kingdom. Your legs fell to the sides, ankles nearly spread to the width of the bed. The mess you two had created- a sticky mess of saliva and that sweet pussy he loved so much- was on full display for the towering man to admire.

Realizing this, you feel a special heat rising in your cheeks and traveling down to your aching core. Almost instinctively your knees begin to close, a desperate attempt to cover up. Your efforts are thwarted by the strong, calloused hands of your lover, the one who brought this on in the first place.

“There’s no hiding from me Schatz,” König gently spreads your legs, lowering his head to kiss your inner thigh. you shudder, he had already ate you out like a starved man. your body still twitching and clit still throbbing from the aftershocks of your first (and definitely not last) orgasm of the night.

Just feeling his hot breath on your skin drives you wild, his lips are far more comparable to electricity. His touch is rough, strong, calculated, but at the same time no man has ever shown such love and care toward you. Its funny how the biggest guy is the most gentle.

But tonight it seems as though hes letting loose a bit. Usually, you are treated as though the slightest tap could shatter you; as if you were made of glass. But every so often he would get rough, he’d treat you like a slut, a fucktoy. After being together so long, you were able to predict these moods like the weather. It could be arguments or work, but sometimes he just gets extra horny

Of course the way Kon is so gentle and cautious with you was one of the reasons you liked him so much, but with a man like him, primal instincts begin to surface. He makes you feel like a cat in heat, constantly aching with desire. Those features haunted you all throughout your time apart, daydreaming about being ragdolled instead of filing the overdue paperwork. He’s so hot it gets you into trouble.

A sudden and harsh squeeze of your thigh brings you back to the reality in front of you, a soft whimper escapes your lips as he marks territory. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you hastily. His hands travel up your torso, stopping briefly to caress your waist “so perfect, mien liebe,” he trails off, kissing his way up.

At this point the cargo pants around his waist are a physical restraint, hips swaying ever so subtly. He catches your gaze, and smirks.

“Tell me what you want darling,” he says, it sounds as if hes teasing you. He knows damn well what you crave. You aren’t going to make this easy. after all, it is more fun this way.

“Hmmmm, im not sure,” You paw at his bulge, feeling it twitch under the touch. The best part of you two’s dynamic is that he is just as needy and horny and sensitive as you. His eyes narrow, and there’s the shift. You are in for it now.

“Since youre so damn indescive, my turn.” König chuckles as he works on the button and zipper of his pants. Just seeing the outline of that cock is enough to have your pussy throb. In a swift motion, he reveals himself and smacks your throbbing clit. The impact sends waves of pain and pleasure up your spine, you gasp sharply.

Another slap rings throughout the room, followed by a shrill moan. Kon rests himself on your core, carefully spitting on the both of you. He uses the tip to tease your sensitive clit before sliding back and forth on it, teasing you. He can perfectly picture exactly how deep into your guts he reaches, and jesus christ is it hot. with every movement, the heat between your legs grew.

“is this what you wanted?” he teases with a low chuckle, still sliding the fat tip of his cock through your wet folds.

you buck your hips up into him, yearning for just a little more. the way he gripped your hips, the extra wet from his precome and saliva, it was enough to drive you wild.

“p-please könig, i need it… need you-“ you beg, squirming in his hands.

“that’s it schatz, beg for it, be a good girl for me,”

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since june. i forgot about it till now. jesus christ. also my first nsfw post???? crazy. beth is loosing it. (yk it’s bad when we start talking in third person oml)

#konigcod #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #könig cod #könig #könig smut #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #cod fanfiction #cod mwii #cod smut

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ceruleancattail · 5 months

Text

Worries

Yandere Guardian Angel Azul x reader

Tw: yandere, Manipulation, Azul does your bills for you-

Azul worries.

To be fair, it’s rare for him to relax. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the tension leave his shoulders… fully, at least. Mist grey eyes sharper then any blade, barely concealed behind those silver glasses of his.

The biggest, most amiable smile could be dancing merrily on his lips, but his gaze would remain cold. Not an instant blast of the winter’s air. At least that would hit you once, hard and fast.

The chill of his stare crept slowly across your skin, lapping at your ankles like the ocean’s waters rocking gently into the sandy shore. A pleasant sensation, rocking you back and forth mildly. Lulled gently by those soothing waves, you step forward, only to be slowly submerged within the Sea’s embrace.

The cold slowly gnaws at you, sinking deep into your flesh, the bitter chill gnawing at your bones. A dull, throbbing pain that left every limb trembling. Like a mast of a ship, lost. Tossing and turning within the merciless waves of a thundering storm.

As an angel, he has the divine right to interfere. In a way, it made things a little simpler as compared to now. Azul could keep you from harm with just a simple flick of his little finger.

The car speeding towards you? Suddenly twisted out of the way, slamming into a weatherbeaten old lamppost instead.

A lift just about to break? Its doors slam shut before you could even enter.

Financial trouble? Well, he’ll just have some… generosity come your way.

Azul supposed those little infringements added to the severeness of his banishment. He was pulling too many strings just for one soul. It started as a whim at first, in all honesty.

Azul just wanted to protect you. That was his job. It was what he was supposed to do.

He doesn’t know when exactly did he fall for that smile of yours. It was illuminating, with all the gentle radiance of the silver moon. Every move you took, was like watching the moonlight bounce off the ocean waters, sparkling shyly against the pitch black night.

Before he knew it, he was falling. Crashing onto the ground like some featherless bird, lacking any sort of dignity howsoever. Not the best first impression, but you still took him in.

How generous of you, love.

Azul isn’t one to let a debt go unpaid. Especially one he owes you. It’s ironic really, how he was the one who was supposed to help you, not the other way around. Although Azul can’t really say he doesn’t like the attention you give him, gently dabbing medication against his crumbling wings.

He likes it. A little too much. After all, Azul’s spent so long up in those clouds, giving you all of his attention… doesn’t he deserve the same from you?

He’s not particularly keen of sharing his pearl, not when he’s finally right by your side, where he belongs. Slowly, Azul sinks his fingers into your life. Picking and choosing the company you keep, tugging at strings here and there to keep those unsavoury presences away from you.

His arm around your shoulder or your waist at all times, squeezing a little harder then what was considered normal. If you ever bring it up, Azul just moans about how weakened he was, after being casted down. You wouldn’t be as cruel as to leave him all alone, would you?

You tell him it’s fine. He could lean on you as much as he wanted.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

After all, Azul worries so much about you. Mortals live such taxing lives, it’s astounding. Why don’t you let him help out? Azul has nothing to do, all alone at home after all. He can help you with sorting through administrative matters.

It starts with just that. Slowly, Azul takes over your financials, bit by bit. He has everything in the palm of his hand, absolute control over everything in your name. Soon, you’re the one coming to him for help, just the way it should be.

Being mortal has its perks. He no longer had to hold himself to the golden rules that all angels hold dear. Truth to be told? He’s always thought that those words were a bunch of self-righteous bullshit.

Constraining, binding. No better then steel-forged chains, keeping him from you. How cruel of them, right, darling?

He wants you. He needs you. Azul loves you.

This desire gradually builds up, showing itself with slow, calculated moves. He’s careful, painstakingly so. Manoeuvring you like a sole piece on a chessboard, making you dance like a mere puppet in his hands. Knocking over every other piece standing, until only you remained.

Fear not, love. Azul will guide you. It is his duty, as your Guardian Angel, after all.

Azul plays the long game, eyes fixed on the final outcome. Only when you’re standing on that checkered chessboard all alone, then you realise what he’s done. By then, it’s too late.

You’ve drowned in his affections, forever caged within the palm of his hand.

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d6volution · 6 months

Note

i was wondering if u could do a jax x reader were jax walks into readers’ locked room expecting nothing but sees reader .. ‘taking care’ of herself.. iykwim 😋

your writing is my fav !!<33

of course, and thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying it anon. 💗

Jax/Fem!Reader | Rating: Explicit.

tags: mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mean jax, voyeurism, mild degrading/name calling, penetration with a foreign object (it's a brush.)

minors dni.

Whistling echoed through the halls as a key twirls around Jax's finger. To his knowledge everyone was off on one of Caine's little adventures. The perfect chance to.. satiate his curiosity, or cause some trouble.. its one in the same to him. He stopped at your door, the plaque with your face on it was oddly endearing.

Just as Jax kneeled down to unlock the door he heard something strange, causing his ear to twitch a little. "What the.." He muttered and leaned in , resting his head on door so he could hear better. But then it was silent. "Don't go losin' your mind just yet, Jax," He scolded himself and unlocked your door with a soft click. "After all you've, —' Jax froze, the light of the hall illuminating your dimly lit room, revealing your figure sprawled out, dwarfed by the large bed. Lewd noises coming from in between your tremblings legs.

Your hand was moving in a rhythm between them. He cocked his head to the side a little, before stepping forward and closing the door behind him with a gentlte, 'click.' Now, standing in the door way with his arms crossed.

... you were using the blunt end of a brush to get off, creative. He'll give you props for that.

Your eyes were closed, and the opening of the door was so brief that you hardly registered the light which flooded in , briefly tickling your closed eyelids. No you were too busy chasing your high.. you were so close, close close..! The brush pumping in and out of your wet cunt. Until you heard the click of the door shutting and immediately shot forward panting, "W.. Who.."

"Oh, don't stop on my account, I was enjoyin' the show, doll." Your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and the unmistakable silhouette of Jax and that shit eating grin that was always plastered on his face.

"Y.. You pervert Jax, get out!" You threw a plush bear at his head which he easily dodged. He just stood and stared, waiting for your excuse.

Fuck. Your cunt was still aching, and you were oh so close to release and this.. jerk had to come in between you and ecstasy.

He tuts, "Naahh... I think I'll stay. I mean, you're clearly breakin one of Caine's biggest rules," Jax takes a step towards you and your stomach feels tight.

"Th-The hell do you care.." You shot back, chest still heaving. Hair sticking to your damp face. What a strange situation this was. You, sitting here like a animal in heat. Cheeks flushed and legs pressed together, trying to subdue the growing frustrations between your legs while the most attractive circus member stares at you like you're being served up on a platter.

"Look, we both know I could careless about Caine's 'rules' , now- what I do care about are those pretty noises you were makin' earlier." He teased, every word that left his mouth was auditory seduction and he knew it. You legs pressed together harder, he wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what he was doing.. "But ya know, I could just call him up now and let him see just what a mess you are, not to mention non-family friendly." He said while gesturing his hand towards your form.

"No! Jax..! You asshole , I swear.." You spoke through gritted teeth, and he hushed you, lifting a single gloved finger to his otherwise permanent grin. "Then get to it toots. I don't have all day. Well— I do. But that's besides the point." He coos but theres an edge to his voice and you gulp.

You grip the brush and scoot back against the plush of your pillows, your heart thumping in your chest. It was either this or even further embarrassment from Caine.. who was sure to be loud enough that entire tent would know.

Besides.. you needed to get off anyways, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.. other than letting Jax have the upper hand which he always took advantage of.

"Hmn, move those covers aside will you? I'd like to get a better view." He said, breaking your chain of thought.

Jax was being oddly patient. He silently thanked the darkness that hid his growing erection in his overalls, he couldn't let you be aware that you were getting him excited this fast.. not yet at least.

One of his hands trailed down his thigh to stroke the growing appendage through his clothes.

You pushed the covers to the side obediently and your glistening cunt was on display. "Y.. You'd better not tell anyone about this or i'll..." You tried to sound bold, intimidating.. but, the threat was empty, and your voice died in your throat as you teased yourself with the brush.

"Or you'll what ..?" He was walking towards the edge of your bed, "Tell everyone what a slut you are? That I caught you touching yourself in your room and whimpering like a little whore? Oh, I bet they'd love to hear that doll in fact how about I tell them myself, hm?"

Your breathe hitched, you found yourself thrusting the brush in and out of your greedy cunt as he spoke. Degrading you, "Ya like that toots? Bein' talked down to while you get off?" He said and pulled himself from his overalls, stroking his twitching cock over your trembling form. He's already got the upper hand.. no point in hiding it now.

He lifted on leg and planted it at the edge of the bed, as if to give you a better view of him stroking his lavendar dick. Balls jumping a little with each tug.

"N.. No that's.. not.." You gasped, hand subconciously moving faster. Thrusting the foreign object in and out of your wet cunt.

He watched with baited breath, his chest heaving and ears twitching a little as he stroked himself. "I'm afraid lyin' won't get ya anywhere toots.. nnh.. just keep bein a cute little slut for me and fucking yourself."

He panted, drinking up your moans and the cute way your body twitched and hips bucked against your hand. "Just like that.."

"Jax.. please.. please touch me.." You whined, and screwed your eyes shut out of frustration, hand kneading your own breasts.

"I don't think so, toots. I'm just enjoyin' the show tonight." He chuckled, watching you writhe at his answer but your hand didn't stop, you were too determined to finally cum this time.

"You can do it doll, so close.. and just imagine maybe I'll be pounded that tight little cunt next time.~" He purrs, as his own grip tightens on his cock. Fucking his fist with more vigor as your own thrusts got more sloppy and lacked rhythm.

"Hh.. Hha..! [Censor!] Jax.. !!" You cried as your body spasmed and convulsed around the brush, the pressure pushing the object out of your cunt. At the same time Jax was spurting out ropes of cum onto your floor, avoiding your bed .. though it would have been better on your face or thighs..

"Ha.. not bad doll, ...nh.. you should get cleaned up." He said , adjusting his own clothing, but his eyes never left you. He was savoring the look you had on your face. Dilated pupils and mouth agape a little. How cute.

"Next time.. lose the brush, I'll have something a bit more filling.~"

#the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #minors dni #jax tadc #ask #jaxsmut #reader insert #tadc jax

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bwabys-scenarios · 9 days

Note

Vampire kurapika?? ITS BEEN ON MY MIND ALL DAY

Strange Girl(NSFW)

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

Vampire!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

A/N: This post has been in my drafts since October 😭

warnings: slight yandere behavior, Kurapika is possessive/protective over you, fingering, creampie, biting, Kurapika drinks your blood

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

In his few centuries of being a vampire, Kurapika had grown lonely. He hid himself away in the large manor that had been passed down in his family, only coming out to feed at night.

Although, on one of these nights, Kurapika’s life would change forever.

It was late October, perhaps even Halloween night. Kurapika had stopped keeping track of the exact date years ago. It didn’t really matter, he couldn’t feel the cold or the heat on his undead skin, so the changes in months and weather meant little to him.

He wasn’t really that hungry, but had decided to feed that night to get it over with. Honestly, the blonde tried not to feed all that often, preferring to stay in his manor and read to pass the time.

However, he heard the town nearby would be relatively quiet, considering there would be a huge party that all the humans would be attending. That meant he could easily pick off one of the stragglers in the dead of night, giving him an easy meal.

Kurapika roamed the streets, wearing a new coat from one of his latest victims and using the streetlights to read as he walked. It was a new book, some kind of romance novel. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the genre, honestly it just depressed him, but over his 300 years of life, the things he hadn’t read became smaller and smaller. He didn’t have the privilege of being picky anymore.

It was around midnight when he sensed someone else on the path ahead of him. He glanced up from his book for a split second, long enough to see who it was, but not long enough to cause suspicion.

Already, he was feeling bad. It was a girl, a pretty one at that. She was strolling down the street, humming along to something she was listening to in her headphones. The girl didn’t seem to notice him until she got closer, glancing up to give him a friendly smile, pulling off one of her headphones.

“Hi!”

Kurapika gave a quick nod in response before looking away. He didn’t like talking too much with his victims before he drained them, it just left a bigger impact on him to talk to his food before he ate it. “Did you not get invited to the party either? I thought I was the only one!”

He attempted to ignore her, waiting for her to get close enough to strike. “Oh, is that a romance novel? I haven’t seen it before!”

‘This human sure likes to talk.’ Kurapika thought, his scarlet eyes peeking over his book to get a better glimpse at her.

She was closer now, only a few feet away. Now he could tell she was rather plump, and incredibly cute. The woman was wearing a thin silk nightgown with a cardigan thrown over it to keep somewhat warm.

“… why are you dressed like that? Its the end of October, it’s not exactly warm out.”

Although Kurapika couldn’t feel the cold, but he could tell she could. She hummed, stopping 2 feet in front of him. “Oh, sometimes I have trouble sleeping, so I walk around and listen outside and listen to music until I get tired.”

The vampire sighed, looking her over. “You shouldn’t do that. The people say there’s a serial killer on the loose.”

‘That serial killer being me,’ he thought, his eyes scanning her figure.

She tilted her head, seeming to take in his appearance before speaking again. “Hmm? I’m pretty tough I’ll have you know! Look!”

She pulls out a little pocket knife, and it was almost amusing how small and useless it looked. “I’m armed!”

Kurapika looked at this girl standing before him and smiling, and he knew he was going to be leaving hungry tonight. “I see… well, I’ll be off then.”

The woman blinked, quickly turning to grab his hand. “Hey wait!”

Kurapika froze, the soft, warm feeling of her touch sinking into his hand. He almost shuddered. The only ways for vampires to experience warmth was through human touch or blood, so it almost a euphoric feeling to be touched. “What?”

He glanced back at her, giving her a slightly surprised look when he saw she was pouting. “You didn’t tell me why you’re out here all by yourself. It’s not safe for you either!”

Was this little human… worried for him? He wanted to laugh, but instead, Kurapika decided to indulge her. “I guess I’m on a walk as well.”

She seemed unimpressed with his answer, but didn’t push further. “Ah…”

He looked down, noticing she still hadn’t let go of his hand. When she caught him looking, she blushed and pulled her hand away. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

She twiddled her thumbs, glancing up at him. Kurapika found this human somewhat… cute.

“One more thing!”

She smiled shyly at him. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around town!”

Kurapika thought for a moment. He could lie to her, but he considered lying a sin. It was a little hypocritical of him, considering he killed people to eat.

“It’s Kurapika.”

She smiled, offering her hand to him. “Well I’m (Name), nice to meet you Kurapika!”

And like that, they were exchanging phone numbers. It took him a moment once he was alone to process that she had snatched his phone, gotten his number, and given him hers. He was too distracted by the kissy mark now on his cheek… and the sweet smile she gave him when she left.

This human had caught his interest… and he wouldn’t be letting her slip through his fingers.

———————

(Name) ended up being quite interesting, keeping him entertained. At first, that all she was, entertainment for him until he got bored of her presence.

But after spending yet another night as her personal body guard while she went out for drinks… he felt the creeping feeling of protectiveness beginning to evade his mind. He didn’t like the way the other humans spoke with her, how they touched her with little regards to who she may belong to.

Lately, when she requested he’d join her, Kurapika preferred spending nights in at her home. She enjoyed this as well, calling their meetings “sleepovers”. He hated how he found that cute…

“Kurapika, do you want to sleep on the couch or my bed? I promise I don’t mind sleeping on the couch-“

He stopped her by raising an eyebrow. “I would not kick you out of your bed, (Name).”

She pouted a little, something that always softened Kurapika’s cold exterior. “Do you have any other ideas, my dear?”

(Name) thought for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. “Hmm… oh!”

Kurapika blinked when she grabbed him by the shoulder. “We can share my bed! Ah, that’s the best way to have a sleepover, isn’t it?”

Oh, his naive and innocent little friend. Kurapika sighed, rubbing his temple. “Dear, I am a grown man and you are a defenseless woman. Are you sure?”

(Name) tilted her head, looking up at him. “Yeah… because you would never hurt me, right?”

If his cold, undead heart could race, it would. He melted, cooing softly as he caressed her chubby cheek. “Of course not, my dear. I would never hurt you, never.”

She giggled, tugging him towards her bedroom. “Then let’s get ready for bed!”

——————

It was hard for Kurapika to concentrate on sleeping when (Name) was curled up next to him, clinging to his side. Did this woman know what personal space was?

He sighed, reaching out to gently caress her cheek. She was so soft, so warm… and she smelled like home. Kurapika had never felt more at ease in his long, miserable life. He only was able to relax and truly be himself when he was with her.

She slept so soundly, even with him, a man eating monster in her bed. Kurapika had told her of his true nature a month into their friendship… yet she stayed with him.

“You’re beautiful, you know…”

Kurapika leaned forward, giving her forehead a kiss. “I love you…”

The words just came out… and he found himself blushing at the fact. He… loved her? Was that what these feelings were?

That explained how protective and possessive he was over her, how all he wanted to do was keep her tucked away in his embrace for all eternity. His lips found hers, and he gave her a gentle kiss as she slept.

When he pulled away, his eyes flashed scarlet. Kurapika wanted her more than anything, and for once his connection to this human had nothing to do with his need to feed.

Kurapika… he genuinely loved her. Her kindness, gentle nature, and understanding mind all made him fall head over heels. No human had ever accepted him for who he was, but she had with ease.

As he gently caressed her cheek, Kurapika vowed to love her for the rest of his life, to keep her safe and happy.

And as the sun rose, he made sure the blinds protected him from its harmful rays. Kurapika didn’t want to hide in his coffin, he wanted to spend more time with her. Now that he knew what he was feeling, all he wanted was to soak in her presence for as long as he could.

“Good morning, my darling.”

She rubbed her eyes, still waking up when she felt his hand on her cheek. “Mmph… Kurapika? Good morning…”

He was still in awe at the fact she didn’t flinch at his touch. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

Kurapika caressed her cheek with his thumb, his scarlet eyes soft with affection. “This. Me touching you…”

She blushed a bit, looking away. “I don’t mind at all… don’t you know how precious to me you are?”

“Precious? To you?”

Kurapika leaned in closer, his undead heart soaring. “You mean it, (Name)? Truly?”

Her cheeks continued to get warmer. “Of course… why would I let you stay with me if I didn’t care for you? I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t just share my bed with anyone.”

It was Kurapika’s turn to blush this time. A vampire as old as him getting flustered over one human? It was embarrassing.

But he couldn’t help but swoon when she touched her forehead to his. “I love you too, you know.”

His face flushed an even brighter red. “Y-you heard that?”

“Felt it too.”

She smiled, pointing to her lips. Kurapika whined in embarrassment, hiding his face. He felt like a teenage boy again, embarrassed by his first crush.

“Mmph…”

His blonde eyelashes fluttered when she captured his lips with hers. Kurapika raised his hands to cup her chubby cheeks, lightly squishing them as he melted into the kiss.

She tasted so sweet, her tongue more delectable than any blood he’d ever drank. He felt almost drunk off of her affection, his eyes half lidded as he pulled her into his lap.

It wasn’t until she whimpered into the kiss and shifted in his lap that he realized he was hard. He felt humiliated, popping a boner from a heated kiss.

“Want you…”

His teeth grazed against her neck as he whimpered out his needs. “Need you, (Name)… so warm, wanna…”

Kurapika slipped his fingers into your panties right as his fangs sunk into your neck. You hissed in pain at first, but the feeling of him stroking your needy cunt was enough to have you mewling out his name. “K-Kurapika!”

He’d never pleasured a woman before, but she wouldn’t have guessed by the way he was touching her as if he had done it a hundred times already. His fingers sank into her just as he retracted his fangs, lapping at the small pinpricks in her neck.

“So pretty, like an angel…”

He pulled down his pajama pants just enough for his cock to spring forward, rubbing it against her needy pussy. “Warm… so warm, all wet for me…”

He pulled her down onto his cock, capturing your lips in a kiss. She could taste the metallic taste of her blood on his tongue, his hands moving her up and down on his cock.

“Squeezing me…” he said with a grunt, feeling her clench around him as she came.

“C-cumming, Pika!”

He kept moving her, his mouth moving to her pretty breast. His tongue flicked against her nipple, quickly taking the (color) bud into his mouth to suck on.

Kurapika left hickeys all over her, occasionally sinking his gangs into her skin. As he continued to fuck into her pretty cunt, his possessive feelings continued to grow until he was growling into her ear.

“Mine, all mine. No one touches you but me.”

He was almost feral, his teeth bared as he came inside of her. She was a panting mess, whimpering as his cum painted her walls.

After giving her a creampie, Kurapika calmed down a bit, feeling like he had claimed her in some way. He let out a soft purr, rubbing his face against her neck and licking the bite marks he had left there.

“Kurapika…”

She clung to him, letting him clean her up and apply small bandages to the bite marks he left. He felt slightly guilty, but that guilt was outweighed by the immense satisfaction he felt so see his beloved covered in his love bites.

“Mine, all mine…” he purred, curling up with her in bed. The two spent the rest of the day snuggling, never leaving each other’s side.

Kurapika had found a reason to keep living his eternal life, and would never let her go. His (Name), his love.

His everything.

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coryosbaby · 1 year

Note

ethan landry just marking u everywhere he can with hickey,bites, even his cum just because he saw a guy taking to you earlier, i cant get this out of my head

Dom! Ethan Landry x fem! Bimbo! Reader (18+) 🍒

Warning: marking, cumplay, bondage, manhandling, biting, choking, orgasm denial, dark! Ethan (he’s lowkey a sadist), a little bit of blood play

(As usual, if the topics in this fic make you uncomfortable, I will happily rewrite it per request!)

I love the whole concept of marking & dom Ethan has me on my knees. This is so filthy 😨😨 enjoy <3

“I told you not to talk to him!”

Ethan’s voice blares out through your shared apartment, anger lacing his usually soft and angelic voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, E.” You frown, faking innocence.

“That guy at the party earlier.”

“The guy at the party? E, I don’t…” you pretend to think, and then smile, knowing damn well who he was talking about. “Oh! You mean Trevor! Yeah, he’s a friend. Pretty cute, if you ask me. Really nice bone structure…”

Ethan is absolutely fuming. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he looks so pissed.

You can’t help but squeeze your legs together at the sight. You love making him mad, love making him fume over guys that you don’t even give a shit about. What can you say? He’s hot when he’s angry.

And flirting with other guys makes him VERY angry.

His hand goes up to your throat and squeezes it harshly. You gasp, hands going up to his as he backs you against the wall. He growls.

“No guy gets to talk to you except me. No guy gets to touch you but me. Now I suggest you get on your knees and show me what that slutty little mouth can do besides cause trouble.”

And then an hour later, the boy has you exactly where he demands you to be. Your tongue is out and your mouth is agape as he strokes his fat cock in front of you. His pants are completely down to his ankles, t-shirt still on, while he sits on the edge of the bed. You, however, are completely bare, hands tied behind your back with a pair of your own lacey panties, tits covered in Ethan’s cum from his first orgasm. Your knees hurt from how long you’ve been on the floor, but you’re a good girl and don’t complain. His face is flushed as he looks down at you. He takes your head and shoves you down onto him. You gag, still keeping your eyes locked with his, as his cock tries to force its way down your warm wet throat.

“Good girl,” he coos. “Bet you want this cock so bad, don’t you?”

You mumble a “mhm!” around his cock. You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster and bat your eyelashes, begging him to cum again, to fill your throat up with his warm seed.

His teeth are clenched as he strokes himself, breathing heavy and ragged. With a cry of your name, he orgasms for a second time. You moan when his cum lands on your tongue, warm and tasting oh so heavenly.

“That’s it...shit! Take that cum, bitch.”

He thrusts his big dick further into your mouth, fucking your raw throat.

When he’s overstimulated, he pulls you off of him and grabs you by your binded wrists. He throws you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing, and you’re surprised at his strength. He climbs on top of your naked body, inhaling the scent of your neck and beginning to leave even more marks than before. You cry out when he bites down particularly hard, enough to draw blood. He licks up the red substance with his tongue. When he lifts himself up, he smiles down at you. A little bit of your blood shines on his pearly white teeth. He uses his thumb to rub your clit harshly and you mewl, desperate to touch him, to feel him on you. He removes his thumb from your pussy and you begin moving your hips at a rapid pace, trying to chase his hand, trying to get that delicious friction back.

He laughs. It’s not one of amusement, but one with a dangerous lilt. He scares you, just a little bit, when he gets like this. There’s something in the way his eyes glint, the way he watches you, as if he enjoys making you suffer, enjoys hurting you.

“Do you wanna cum, baby?” He asks, and you instantly nod your head, tears beginning to form at the delay of your orgasm.

“Well, that’s too bad. Maybe this will teach you not to talk to anyone else. Because you aren’t gonna cum for a very, very long time, angel.”

And you don’t. Not until the very end of the night, when you’re filled with his cum and covered in marks. When you get out of the shower the next morning to look at your sore body, you see a bruise on your back in the shape of a cherry red heart.

Ethan joins your side in the bathroom mirror, smiling at his handiwork, and wraps his arms around your waist. You turn around and kiss him.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says. “And all mine, aren’t you?”

“all yours, baby.”

#if there are grammatical errors i apologize #Ethan landry #Ethan landry x reader #Ethan landry smut #Ethan landry x fem! reader #Ethan landry x bimbo! reader #dom! Ethan landry #sub! reader #bimbo! reader #jealous! Ethan landry #dark! Ethan landry #scream 6 #scream #y’all have no idea how long I spent on this for absolutely no reason

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dawnbreakersgaze · 2 months

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Shut the fuuuuuck up

I've long suspected that Mt Eternal is where the Tower of Thorns rests (or what is left of it anyway) due to several factors- the biggest being how chapter 8 ends with Zayne on Mt Eternal either sealing or clearing (interacting in some way at least) with something frozen or buried in the ice and snow there.

However, last night I was doing some rereading, and this afternoon a very specific thing caught my attention.

That is DEFINITELY the exact same mountain peak. I grew up in the Teton mountain range in the Rockies, my stupid little lizard brain recognizes peak patterns before anything else lol.

Maybe I'm super late to the party and everyone else already knows exactly what it is Zayne is doing here, but this makes me feel like he's finally remembering who he is now, and he's trying to either gain access to the tower (for abilities? A prophecy? The staff?) Or he's bound and determined to not let whatever is in there out again if it's trying to reclaim him.

"Remains shackled to time" is also especially troubling when you consider the vines of thorns and chains that literally bound him, and the verse from his myth:

"Astra gifted one of his eyes to the Foreseer. By walking the winding path of time did the Foreseer understand its passing. This is the power of a god” -Philos: Tome of the Foreseer.

The eye of Astra quite literally shackled him to time. While he was boundless in the sense of existing outside of time, he was more constrained than anyone bound to death.

Idk there is a lot to dissect but I need time to piece it all together. I just needed to get this out before I imploded.

#kay's mumbles #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #lads #l&ds #love and deep space #love and deepspace zayne #my brain is mush from lack of sleep but i have so many theories now #I'll rewrite this when i recover from being how i am rn

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hayatheauthor · 1 year

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How To Write And Research Mental Illnesses

Mental illnesses are a large aspect of literature often incorporated into various different genres. However, even with their prevalence, many authors are often unaware of how to write about mental illnesses accurately. If you’re an author writing a character with a mental illness, here are some tips on how to write with mental illnesses.

Don’t ‘Self Diagnose’ Your Characters

When writing about mental illnesses it’s important to consider whether or not your character would realistically have this mental illness given their situation and story. Many authors often ‘self diagnose’ their characters without actually taking the time to research these illnesses and figure out whether their character would develop this illness if they were a real person.

I say ‘self diagnose’ because as authors we generally do diagnose our characters based on our own interpretations and plans for them and their story, without looking to real people with these illnesses.

Just because your character is going through an unproductive slump doesn’t mean they they are depressed. Just because your character is nervous and experiencing stage fright doesn’t mean they have anxiety.

Take the time to look into these mental illnesses and genuinely consider whether or not your character has a mental illness, or if you’re just self diagnosing and wrongly labelling them.

Do Your Research

Whenever I blog about such sensitive topics, I always find myself ultimately mentioning this one point. This is because even with so many resources available to us both online and offline, writers still choose to be blissfully unaware of sensitive topics mentioned in their WIPs or stories.

I sincerely cannot stress how important it is for a writer to do their due diligence and research the topics they write for, especially if it is something as sensitive as mental illnesses.

Once you have established that your character would realistically develop or undergo a mental illness given the situation they are in, it is now time to research what exactly they would go through.

A simple google search can tell you everything you need to know about your character’s mental illness. Or, you could reach out to people you know who suffer from the same illness and ask them questions about it.

Researching your character’s mental illness helps ensure you don’t accidentally misrepresent that illness or create symptoms that are inaccurate and insulting to people who do suffer from that mental illness. It will also provide you with a sense of ease as an author, and allow you to work on your WIP without having to worry about accidentally offending an entire community.

Remember The Three Ss

One of the biggest challenges writers face with writing with mental illnesses is unrealistic representation. Unsure where to start with your research? Here is a simple guide for you to keep in mind.

When writing about mental illnesses, you need to recall the three Ss:

Symptoms

Side effects

Stages

Symptoms

Every illness or disease has its own symptoms, the same applies to mental illnesses. When writing about a character with mental illnesses, you need to take the time to research the symptoms of this illness and how these symptoms can impact your character on a day-to-day and general level.

For example, a character with PTSD would face trouble sleeping and concentrating, would be irritable, angry and face overwhelming guilt or shame. These symptoms can all make it hard for a person to excel at school or the workplace and can lead to delayed deadlines, unfinished work, and a lot of stress and anxious thinking.

A character with PTSD would likely not be able to handle being at the top of their class, unless they completely engross themselves in their studies to the point where they can’t think of anything except that. However, if that were the case then they would find it very hard to handle ‘normal’ situations and wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep.

Side Effects

A side effect is a temporary and commonly unwanted effect of a drug or medical condition. Unlike a symptom, a side effect can be harmful or beneficial and most go away on their own over time.

They wouldn’t be considered as ‘serious’ as a symptom, however, they can still significantly impact your character, their story, and their dynamics with the characters they interact with.

Following the above example, a character with PTSD would generally suffer from an inability to develop or maintain positive, healthy interpersonal relationships and an inability to trust others. They also often face side effects such as social isolation, chronic feelings of fear, etc.

These are all side effects that would make it hard for a character with PTSD to maintain emotional relationships. You can use this to portray their sudden lack of connection with friends and family, and how they find themselves only associating with people who have either been through or understand their situation.

Stages

A person with cancer, or other such physical illnesses, doesn’t suddenly hit a chronic level overnight. The same logic applies to mental illnesses. Mental illnesses don’t just develop overnight. Your character won’t suddenly wake up one day in chapter ten and have a full-blown panic attack because they developed a panic disorder.

Yes, people can face symptoms or side effects pertaining to a mental illness after facing a traumatic event. However, when writing about such events, it’s very important to do your research and consider whether or not a person would realistically undergo such serious symptoms in such a small timeframe given the circumstances.

Outside of incidents that are a direct result of a traumatic event, it’s important to consider the stages your character would experience as a result of their mental illness.

For example, a person with PTSD goes through five stages, the first being the impact or emergency stage, during which they struggle to process or deal with the situation they have gone through. Then comes the denial or numbing stage.

Following the above example, a numbing stage would be akin to when a character pretends the traumatic event never occurred and throws themselves into their work or school. Then comes a rescue stage, which would be when other characters begin to intervene or when the character comes to terms with the events and starts to better themselves.

Knowing the stages of your character’s mental illness allows you to accurately plan out what happens in your story and create a realistic portrayal of their suffrage. It also helps flesh out your story for your readers and allows you to seamlessly incorporate your character’s illness into the story.

Don’t Define Them By Their Mental Illness

Now that you have a general idea of how to write and research mental illnesses, I would like to end this blog post with a small reminder. People with mental illnesses are human. They have personalities, hobbies, likes, dislikes, and other such traits that often have nothing to do with their mental illness.

When writing with a mental illness, it’s important to take this into account and ensure you don’t constantly define your character by their mental illness, or even worse, reduce them to their mental illness.

I hope this blog on how to write and research mental illnesses will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday.

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itsgodepi · 7 months

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 2

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.3k Also on AO3

“Oh, you’re up? C’mon get dressed, we have a meeting with the engineers in like ten minutes” the stranger singsongs, throwing the door open and carelessly stepping inside.

The man does not spare you a second glance, instead making a beeline for the tall window that cover the entire wall at your right to throw the curtains open. Your hand flies up to cover your eyes, the new source of light not only blinding you but also revealing too much information for you to process. What is this room? Not your bedroom, that’s clear, you sure as hell do not have a kitchen in front of the bed for starters. And what is that huge balcony? Where are you?

However, you are missing a key question: you are late for what?

“I…I don’t-” you try to get his attention, arms coming around yourself for protection since your voice is not cooperating.

He interrupts you almost instantly, ignoring your complaints as he takes a look down to his phone “Be ready in five, I have to make a call”, and with that said, he is out the door.

The silence he leaves behind is chilling, your mind working at lightspeed while your body remains there, standing alone in the middle of an unknown place, petrified. You can only hear him outside, his steps and words filtering though the paper-thin walls —and only then does your brain register he is and has been talking in English all this time.

You look around, completely overwhelmed by the situation. What are you supposed to do now, jump out the window? Because there is no way you are going to do what he is saying, right? You do not even know who he is or where you are, this is crazy!

A look around the room further confirms your suspicions, this is a hotel room. Those bland colors, decoration to fit everyone’s taste and a neon pink suitcase pushed into a corner that you run to dig through with such fervor that you almost tear the zipper out. But there is nothing that could help you anywhere. Maybe you could throw one of the heels at him and pray that it causes a concussion or something, but that could potentially get you into a lot more trouble.

A couple of knocks halt your investigation, the same mechanical noises sounding again as the door slowly opens. You make a split-second decision to hide in the bathroom, door closing way too loudly for him not to notice.

“We really have to hurry, the car is waiting for us” the man sighs in frustration. You hear some ruffling around the room and before you can figure out what he is doing, he is walking towards the bathroom’s door “Hey, open up, you left your clothes outside”

Considering your chances of escaping any other way are non-existent —you have locked yourself in the worst possible room for an impromptu breakout plan—, you decide to lower your head and listen to him. What else could happen? The situation is bad enough already, you should at least change out of this pyjama.

Taking the knob in your hand and placing a foot close to the door to prevent it from completely opening, you comply with his request. Through the small gap appears a stack of neatly prepared clothes that you quickly snatch before closing it again. The outfit is nothing special, a pair of jeans and a shirt that looks exactly like the one that man is wearing. The fabric is white and of a strange but flowy material, logos of different brands plastered all over it. The biggest one painted right on its center, letters drawn in a dark red color: HAAS.

Advertising clothes? Weird.

You make quick work of getting yourself dressed, stepping out of the room before the man can call for you again. He guides you out the room and through the corridors in silence, glancing every now and then at his phone, until you arrive to the car he had talked about. The driver does not even look back when you get seated, only speeds off as soon as both doors are closed.

On the ride, the atmosphere is tense. Nobody says a word, the only sound filling the space being that of the car’s radio, and even that is worrying you. They are speaking so fast and in such a strange language that it is impossible to understand any of it. Is that why the driver had not talked? Is he a foreigner, like the guy seated by your side? What have you gotten yourself into?

“Sorry, I’ve been so stressed all morning... didn't even ask if you are feeling alright after yesterday” the man breaks the silence, letting go of his phone for the first time all morning.

So, all of that did happen, you did faint in the arms of some stranger dressed in a weird orange jumpsuit. It is nice to have some confirmation, but what the hell...

He rummages through the backpack in the middle seat while waiting for an answer that is so painfully obvious. No, you are not feeling alright, you have been literally kidnapped, is he that delusional or just plain stupid? But you decide it's better to remain silent.

In the meantime, he manages to take out two plastic cards with neck straps attached to them, and holds one of them on your direction as he puts his on. Something instantly catches your attention: not only is your face printed on it, but your name and surnames are written just beneath it. What is this? Why do they have this picture of you? You cannot remember ever taking this photo.

But you do not dare ask it out loud, voice now stuck on your throat as you dwell on what this means to your situation. They must have been following you, they know exactly who you are.

“The doctor said everything was fine, that it must have been the rush of emotions and the exhaustion, so you don’t have to worry” he explains once the silence stretches for a beat too long, waiting a second for it to sink in and gather some courage to continue his monologue “Look, I know you don’t like discussing these things on Sundays, but...”

And although you would have loved to snap at him and tell him that he would not know what you want or do not want to talk about —who the fuck does he think he is?—, it is not you who interrupts him. The arrival to your supposed destination had gone unnoticed by both of you until a woman starts knocking on the car’s window, the scoldings about your lateness filtering even through the thick glass.

Oh, his name is Nick?

The pair seem to be associated —a conclusion that you draw solely because they are wearing that ugly advertising shirt you are now sporting too— or they at least know each other enough for the man to shoot straight out from the car as soon as he hears her. You do so as well, for some reason, but they come over to guide you around before you can question your decision any further.

The place they have taken you to is rather strange, an enclosed area with colorful buildings that look more like tall campers than actual constructions. The people crowding the street are bubbling with energy, running from one place to another, talking and eating. Some of them are carrying cameras and microphones, big ones, like those you see in TV and... they are pointing them at you? In fact, when you look around to confirm your suspicions, you note that you have attracted more than the attention of the cameras, there is so much people looking at you.

Even though you try to avoid everybody’s gazes, too worried about who they might be and what they could do, a man standing further down the street manages to catch your eyes. He waves at you, his lips being drawn into a smile as he notices you have seen him. He is dressed in a red shirt with a bunch of logos —these people sure are big on advertising clothes— and a matching cap, a similar outfit to the man he had been talking to. Oh, and now he is... walking towards you? What? Who is he? But most importantly, should you like, say something? It is not like your kidnappers, or whoever they are, are any more trustworthy than a random man on the street, but maybe-

Yet, before you can decide on anything, he has already arrived.

“Hey, did you eat? You didn’t, right?” the man in red asks —in English again, mind you, although he seems to have a different accent—, and answers his own question in the same breath.

You shake your head in response anyway, it is true, the last thing you ate was yesterday’s lunch, had been too sad to even make yourself a sandwich that night. But it does not feel like your stomach would accept anything either.

His smile widens at the confirmation, dimples peeking out as he reveals what he had been hiding behind his back. On his palm rests a package of cookies wrapped in transparent plastic and a pretty bow. “They made these again! You liked them so much last time, so I brought you some” the man’s voice has turned light with happiness, the look on his green eyes signaling just how proud he is to have gotten them for you, but what does he mean by last time?

Frowning, you peel your eyes off the treat, looking up to the pair by your side for permission. This all seems so strange. “Of course, go ahead” Nick quickly responds, looking rather confused “You can eat whatever you want, I thought you’d be too nervous for food”. And you are, but this man is looking sweetly that it feels impossible to refuse his gift.

You swiftly pick up the bag, holding it close to your chest as a “Thanks” slides out of your lips.

“Uhm, sorry, the meeting is about to start, we have to go” the woman beside you reminds, as Nicks checks his phone for the nth time this morning “Good luck today, Charles! Be safe”

Oh, Charles? That may explain the accent, it sure isn’t an English name.

“Yeah, I’m running late as well” Charles murmurs, taking a look back to where he came from. You follow his gaze to see a man dressed in a similar red shirt, arms crossed over his chest as he waits by the door of another building. Charles seems to nod at him after the man in red makes some signals and points at his watch. “Thank you, and good luck to you too! I know you’ll do great so” he looks back at you this time, shrugging his shoulders as a grin plays on his lips, like it is a done deal.

But what exactly are you supposed to do great at? What is all this good luck for? The man’s arm quickly comes to rest on top of your shoulders before you can dwell on Charles’ words too long, steering you towards one of the buildings while your mind is boiling with questions.

A glass door gives way to a long corridor full of doors, voices and mechanical noises echoing off the walls. The inside is fully painted in white with various red details lining the walls, which awfully remind you of the place you had woken up in yesterday. The only difference is that now you can recognize that red logo drawn all over the walls: HAAS. The same one resting atop your abdomen. You look down at your shirt to confirm it, eyebrows furrowing as you try to decipher what this is supposed to mean.

The source of all that noise seems to be a bigger room that opens at the end of the hallway, one that you do not get the opportunity to take a peek at because the man smoothly ushers you into one of the firsts rooms before you can snoop around much. The door opens to reveal a group of men seated around a table, the group casually greeting you and resuming their conversation a second later. The conversation seems to be all about cars? Something about their engines, the degradation, strategies and stuff you cannot understand, the discussion continuing as one of them points at statistics on a screen. Is that an F1 car?

“We are starting really far ahead today, congratulations on P10! I didn’t get to talk to you yesterday so… I hope you are feeling better and just” one of them says, his eyes lifting from the papers on the table to look straight at you with a big smile “Don’t be greedy, ok? Keep the position, we need the points” The rest of the men seem to agree with that piece of advice, erupting in laughs as they dedicate each other knowing glances.

On the other hand, you remain silent, trying to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. P what? What is P?

The meeting does not last much, a thousand of technical words are thrown around without care and a pile of numbers is presented to you all, but you do not manage to grasp what anything of it means. However, the final phrase stays on your mind, a wish that they all share: “Let’s have a great race”. And that word is what starts turning the gears in your head.

That and the fucking Formula One car that you come face to face with when Nick leads you further down the corridor. A “What the hell?” rolling out of your tongue almost unconsciously, eyes glued to the machine before you are pushed into yet another room.

Next chapter

___

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so much for the nice comments and interactions.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd@drezzerk33

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you #f1 fic

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