Katsuki gets stood up at a restaurant far too expensive for disappointment.
Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the city, stretching glittering lights across the glass like spilled gold. The soft clink of silverware and low jazz humming through the speakers blurred into background noise the longer he sat there.
His phone stayed face down near the edge of the table. No new messages. No apology. Nothing.
Weeks ago, maybe this would've pissed him off more. Maybe he would've called. Sent another text. Asked where the hell she was.
Now?
He just looked tired.
Arms folded loosely across his chest, he stared out beyond the skyline with the detached calm of someone who'd already mourned the relationship long before tonight officially killed it. This dinner had been a final courtesy. One last attempt at doing things face to face instead of hiding behind a screen.
She didn't show.
That told him enough.
Two tables over, you sat tucked into the corner booth with a half-finished bottle of wine and a growing irritation aimed directly at your manager.
Three glasses in had left a pleasant warmth swimming through your body —enough to soften the sharp edges of your mood without pushing you anywhere near sloppy. You needed the quiet. Needed one night where nobody hovered. No stylists. No security. No cameras catching you stepping out of a car.
Just good food and space to breathe.
Your wig tonight was good. Really good. The kind that blended so naturally nobody would second guess it. Paired with the black long sleeve dress hugging your figure and the dangerously short pleated skirt. You looked less like a celebrity avoiding attention and more like the kind of woman people stared at accidentally.
Knee-high boots under the table crossed neatly at the ankle as you lifted your wine glass to your lips again. outfit here <<
And unfortunately for him, you noticed him immediately.
Blonde.
Beautiful in an unfair kind of way.
The type of man who looked expensive without trying.
Your gaze drifted toward the single yellow rose and an envelope propped up on a candle sliding back up to his face.
Oh.
He got stood up.
A small crease pulled between your brows. That almost never happened to men who looked like him.
Leaning forward, your elbow pressed against the table while your cheek rested lazily against your palm, eyes lingering and then—
He looked over.
Red eyes met yours instantly. Tired at first. Distant. Before the realization settled that someone had been staring.
And not just someone.
His attention caught briefly on your half-lidded gaze before lowering —burgundy under gloss stained lips. The delicate jewelry resting against your throat. The way your posture somehow stayed elegant even folded over the table like that.
Pretty wasn't enough of a word.
What threw him more was the familiarity crawling at the back of his mind. Like he'd seen you somewhere before.
Not enough for him to place.
Just enough to itch at the back of his mind.
Then you smiled.
Small. Knowing. The corner of your burgundy lips curling around the rim of your wine glass like you caught him slipping.
He cleared his throat immediately, dragging his gaze back toward the windows before he embarrassed himself.
Cute.
You finished the rest of your glass in one slow sip before setting it down gently against the tablecloth.
And before your brain could talk you out of it —your body moved first, delicate fingers folding around the handle of your matching purse.
The short walk between your tables suddenly felt louder than the entire restaurant. Boots clicking softly against the floor until you stopped beside him.
Up close, he looked even worse for your sanity.
Broad shoulders folded into the back of the chair. Blond hair slightly messy from his hands dragging through it all night. Those red eyes sharper this close —deep ruby under the dim lighting, intense enough to make most people nervous.
You liked that right away.
“Waiting on someone?” you asked softly.
Not teasing and not innocent either.
He looked up at you, visibly caught off guard by the fact you were speaking to him at all.
“Not anymore,” he answered after a second, rubbing the back of his neck.
A quiet laugh slipped from you. “Bummer.”
And before he could even process what was happening, you sat on the chair next to him. One leg crossed smoothly over the other, body turned completely toward him like he suddenly had your full attention and no-one else in the room mattered.
That nearly did him in right there.
Because beautiful women existed —obviously.
But women like you didn't just walk across restaurants and place themselves into a stranger’s night like this.
Not willingly.
Not looking at them like that.
His gaze flickered over you before he could stop it. The fitted black fabric hugging your body. The pleated skirt riding dangerously high once you crossed your legs. The faint shine of sheer stockings.
Every detail about you felt expensive.
Intentional.
“And you…” his voice roughened slightly before he cleared it. “What about you?” -then your perfume hit him fully. Warm. Addicting. Feminine in a way that settled low in his stomach almost instantly.
Jesus Christ.
He forced himself to focus.
You tilted your head thoughtfully at the question, fingers tracing slowly around the rim of an untouched water glass.
“Just looking for a distraction.”
The eye contact never broke once.
And that answer combined with the way you said it nearly made him forget how to think.
“That so?” he asked carefully, though the slight challenge in his tone betrayed him.
Because part of him still didn’t believe this was real. Didn’t believe someone who looked like you would willingly sit here flirting with him while his ex technically still occupied the back of his mind like unfinished paperwork.
You hummed softly before letting your gaze drag over him again.
“Hard to believe someone who looks as good as you got stood up.”
A grin tugged at your lips.
“She’s gotta be a bitch.”
For the first time all night —he laughed.
Low and genuine.
And somehow that sound felt more rewarding than it should’ve. It finally broke the tension between you. He leaned back slightly, a low laugh slipping out of him as he rubbed at his jaw.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “M’not so good at picking nice ones it seems.”
You smiled into your glass at that.
Cute.
“Gonna ask you a couple questions.”
His brow lifted.
“Just keep your answers simple, k?”
Something about the way you said it made his stomach tighten.
He nodded once, shifting in his chair slightly. “Alright.”
Your eyes flicked toward the envelope propped up next to candle.
“What’s in there?”
“A check.”
Short answer.
Just like you asked.
“Drove here?” you asked.
“Yeah.”
“You a good driver?”
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth this time. “Better than most.”
"Occupation?"
"Aerospace engineer"
You hummed approvingly.
“Name?”
“Katsuki.”
The way you repeated it almost sounded obscene. “Mmm… Katssuukiii.” The syllables melted right off your tongue smooth and slow, he physically felt the effect of it somewhere deep in his chest.
Or maybe lower.
His tongue dragged briefly across his bottom lip before he caught himself.
“And yours?”
You gave him a fake name easily.
Your finger tapped once against the stem of a wine glass before your gaze dragged slowly back to him.
“Think you could lift me?”
He actually scoffed at that.
Not cocky.
Certain.
“Easily,” he said. “One hand too.”
That made your smile widen properly for the first time tonight.
God.
He almost stopped breathing over something as small as that.
You leaned back on the chair after that, crossing your arms loosely beneath your chest while still facing him.
The movement alone nearly distracted him.
Then came the dangerous part.
Your lashes lowered slightly as you looked up at him.
“Wanna leave here?”
He held your gaze.
“with me?” you added softly.
His throat worked around a swallow as his eyes flicked down to your lips for the first time all night without immediately looking away after.
He was trying so hard to keep it together.
Trying to stay smooth. Calm. Unaffected.
Meanwhile you were sitting beside him looking like temptation dressed in black fabric and glossy lips.
“Yeah,” he answered finally, voice lower now.
— — -- -- -
The restraint he carried all night cracked open the moment you stepped into his domain. Palms firm beneath your thighs hauling you up against him like he’d been thinking about it the entire drive home.
A startled laugh barely left your mouth.
God.
Your pulse fluttered instantly as you wrapped your legs around him. You pressed open-mouthed kisses against his neck just to feel the way his breathing broke.
His mouth found yours too, rough kisses pressing against sensitive skin hard enough to make your head tip back.
“katsuki”
He grunted softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips like that. He held you with embarrassing ease while he walked you deeper into the apartment.
You loved that.
Loved the confidence in it.
The way he handled you like he already knew you liked being moved around. Like he knew pretty girls like you got dizzy over strength.
By the time the edge of his desk hit the backs of your legs, your breathing had already gone uneven, barely giving you a second to recover before his hands were undoing the zipper to your boots.
He turned you around so quickly it made your head spin.
One second you were facing him — the next your front was pressed against the desk, trapped between the solid edge of it and the heat of his body crowding close behind you.
A breath caught in your throat.
His hands moved slowly this time.
Deliberately.
Sliding over your shoulders and down your arms like he was taking his time learning every inch of you beneath his palms before settling firmly at your hips.
Then he bent you over.
The position alone nearly made your knees weaken.
He paused there for a second just to look at you.
And fuck.
You looked unreal like this.
Spread out beneath the low office lighting, skirt pushed up your thighs, breathing uneven already from how easily he handled you.
A rough sound left him before he dropped to his knees behind you, fingers hooking impatiently into your stockings.
The fabric tore under his hands without much effort.
His gaze darkened slowly the higher the ripped material disappeared down your legs, revealing flashes of warm skin until finally—
Bright red lace.
Already damp.
The sight made him still for half a second.
Of course your panties were red.
His favorite color.
The sight pulls something dangerous from him.
A low sound.
Satisfied.
His mouth dragged along the inner parts of your thigh —greedy with it, like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kiss it or ruin you first.
“Open,” he demanded.
And your body obeyed before your brain even caught up.
Another satisfied sound rumbled low in his throat at how quickly you listened.
God, he liked that.
Liked the way your thighs opened without hesitation the second his hands touched you. The heat of his fingers spread across the backs of your thighs before gripping tighter, pulling your pussy lips apart for him with an ease that made your pulse flutter embarrassingly fast.
The first touch of his mouth made your breath catch.
Then sharp inhale tore from your chest as he kissed you deeply, taking his time like he wanted to taste every reaction he pulled from you. The pleased hum he let out afterward sounded almost distracted. Like he couldn’t believe how much he liked this already.
“Katsuki…” you breathed shakily, fingers scrambling against the desk as he pressed another heated kiss against your clit.
The sound of his name nearly made him lose his mind.
His fingers pulls you apart even more allwhile keeping you exactly where he wanted while his mouth worked lower again. Impatient now, like he’d spent too long imagining this during the drive home and couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
He glanced up once —just once —your head tipped back as another breathless sound slipped from you, fingers tightening against the desk while the warmth of his mouth and the rough drag of his hands sent heat spiraling through your stomach.
“m'Fuck” he muttered, half under his breath.
Not even trying to sound smooth anymore.
The shaky inhale.
Your thighs twitching
The way your hips kept trying to chase more from him.
Another low, satisfied sound vibrated from his chest as his hands slid higher up your ass, keeping you spread like he's sure he's found that spot. He sucks at your clit and dips his tongue inside over and over. Flicking it faster and faster until you unravel in front him in real time.
The breathless little sounds slipping out every few seconds like you couldn’t stop them.
“katsss…” you hissed weakly.
That finally pulled him back up.
Yeah.
He really fucking liked hearing that.
You turned your head just enough to look over your shoulder and nearly lost your mind at the sight of him.
His lips were swollen. Chin damp.
And somehow the sight of a man like him looking aroused because of you made heat curl low in your stomach all over again.
Pretty girls usually acted nervous under attention like this.
You didn’t.
You just looked wrecked already.
The size of him alone made anticipation twist tightly in your stomach. Your thighs pressed together unconsciously at the sight of him palming his cock.
He noticed immediately.
A rough smirk tugged briefly at his mouth before fading again, attention dropping lower like he was admiring the exact effect he had on you.
God, you were eager.
“Open f’me,” he said low.
The roughness in his voice sent heat straight through you.
Your body obeyed instantly.
He liked that far too much.
He dragged his cock slowly over the mess he’d already made of you. Focused. Concentrated. Like he was trying to burn the sight into his memory.
The other hand held firmly on your ass before gripping it and pulling you apart again. You glanced back just in time to catch the way his jaw tightened, the subtle twitch in his expression betraying just how badly he was trying to stay composed.
The first push of him forward knocked the breath clean from your lungs. Fingers gripping the desk harder as the sheer intensity of him overwhelmed your thoughts all at once.
Too much in the best possible way.
Behind you, he let out a strained sound through clenched teeth, head dropping briefly forward like he felt it just as hard.
“Fuck!” he breathed.
Low. Blissed out.
The warmth. The tightness. The way your body reacted to him instantly—
When he finally moved again, the reaction ripped matching sounds from both of you almost instantly.
Your head tipped back. His grip now on your hips tightened hard enough to keep you still when your body tried chasing more on instinct and that was apparently all the encouragement he needed.
His pace turned rougher immediately —not sloppy, not rushed — precise. Like he was learning your body and already figuring out exactly which movements pulled those sounds from you.
A strained groan slipped from him as one hand tightened hard against your hip while the other slid upward, fingers threading into your hair before gripping firmly.
The pull arched your back beautifully.
“God damnit…” he hissed under his breath.
You’re warm. Tight. Responsive. Completely gone for him already.
You felt so good it was genuinely starting to mess with his head. The way your body kept tightening around him. The breathless sounds breaking apart every few seconds. How pretty you looked bent over his desk taking exactly what he gave you.
It was driving him insane.
“You like that?” he asked low, almost teasing but his voice barely sounded controlled anymore.
Before you could answer, his hand tightened in your hair again, guiding your head back while his rhythm stayed devastatingly exact —deep enough to keep pulling shaky gasps from your chest over and over.
Then something shifted.
A strange looseness against his hand.
At first neither of you noticed.
You were too lost in the feeling of him. Too consumed by the overwhelming heat twisting through your body.
But the next pull felt different.
Lighter.
His movements slowed slightly, brows furrowing as something soft slipped loose through his fingers.
Your wig came off completely.
Time stopped.
The room fell dead silent outside of both your uneven breathing.
His pace slowed.
Stopped.
Blonde strands mixed with auburn tumbled down as your real hair spilled over your shoulders, highlights catching beneath the dim office lighting.
He stared at it first.
Then at you.
And suddenly every blurred thought in his head started crashing together all at once.
Your voice.
Your face.
The familiarity that’d been clawing at him since the restaurant.
The hair.
Auburn and blonde streaks from your most recent photoshoot.
His entire body went still.
Then he says it... The sound of your real name leaving his mouth made anxiety slam into your chest instantly.
He’d already pulled back completely now, letting the wig slip from his hand onto the floor while he stared at you like his brain physically could not catch up.
Fuck fuck fuck.
This had literally never happened before but then again, you've never done this before either. You weren’t supposed to be recognizable tonight.
But your real hair framed your face now —unmistakable beneath the office lighting —and judging by the look on his face?
He knew exactly who you were.
Not just recognized.
Knew.
His realization hit harder when he pulled back completely, he stared at you like his brain physically could not process what was happening.
And honestly?
Neither could yours.
Your stomach twisted hard enough to make your body tense involuntarily.
“Shit,” he muttered immediately, stepping back.
He looked even more overwhelmed now than he did before. His chest rose sharply with each breath while one hand dragged through his messy blonde hair, ruby eyes fixed entirely on your face like looking away would somehow make this less real.
“I knew you looked familiar,” he said finally.
Quiet.
Dazed.
an: fuck I loved this… 100 likes and ill drop part 2 tomorrow
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shh this isn’t super late, shhh it hasn’t been almost exactly a year since I last posted fic, shhhhhh I’ve been here all along
life hit me really hard, sorry! I hope everyone is well and enjoys this little bit of fic while I try to get back in the groove ♡
“This is a kidnapping.”
Tim doesn’t look up from his lunch. “No, this is a sandwich.”
His would-be kidnapper plainly watches way too many movies, because the slow, trying-to-be-menacing way he cocks his gun is straight out of every Western Tim’s ever (reluctantly) seen.
“Mr. Drake,” his kidnapper says with emphasis. “This is a kidnapping.”
One half of his (honestly incredible) sandwich finished, Tim does glance up…but only to confirm what he already knows.
“Please don’t get blood on the rug,” he requests politely. Then he attends to his (homemade!) potato chips while the idiot at the other end of the dining table splutters.
“I—I won’t get blood anywhere if you co—”
“Hey, dumbass,” Tim’s new bodyguard says, looming up behind the man like something out of a nightmare. “He wasn’t talking to you.”
Tim will admit to a bit of sympathy for the fool who came here looking to kidnap him. Jason Todd subdues him so quickly and easily, it’s hard to think of the idiot as any kind of potential threat. Sure, it’s annoying that he thought he could just waltz in here and abduct Tim, as if Tim weren’t smart enough to hire security, but…it’s like being mad at a dog for barking at the mirror.
It may get on your nerves, but the little guy’s too dumb to hold a grudge against.
By the time Tim finishes the second half of his sandwich, the whole matter is settled, and Jason Todd has returned to his guard position by the door, unruffled as always.
“Thank you for lunch,” Tim says to him and, caught in raptures over how damn good that meal was, only belatedly remembers to add, “And for dealing with the whole…kidnapping thing.”
Jason Todd shrugs it off. “It’s my job.”
“Protecting me is your job,” Tim corrects. “Making me lunch—”
“—is just protecting you from your own bad habits,” Jason Todd says, desert-dry. He’d been very unamused to discover, his first day on the job, that Tim usually only ate a granola bar for lunch. And sometimes breakfast. “Speaking of which, a little more concern when some asshole points a gun at you might not go amiss.”
“I didn’t see any reason for concern,” Tim says honestly. “I have you, after all.”
Jason Todd’s classic Bland Bodyguard™ expression flickers. Tim, being only human, can’t help but enjoy the way those broad shoulders shift in the equally classic Bland Bodyguard Suit™.
“I appreciate the faith,” Jason Todd says after the briefest pause, “but you’ve only known me a week.”
Ah, well, that’s…technically true. Tim has indeed only known Jason Todd for a week, since the man came on board as his newest bodyguard after Mike Takeda received an unexpected inheritance and quit.
“True,” Tim admits. “Still, I’ve got a good feeling about you. It’s hard to be worried with you in my corner.”
After all, Tim has known of Jason Todd since they were both kids—since he was watching Robin soar over Gotham every night. They’ve both grown up since then (and Jason Todd in particular has grown up very, very well), but even with him wearing a different cape these days, Tim doesn’t think anything will ever shake his faith in Jason Todd.
“…Thanks,” Jason Todd says.
“Again, thank you,” Tim says in return, then finally, reluctantly abandons his empty plate. “Now, I really need to get back to work. Join me in my office?”
“Of course, Mr. Drake,” Jason Todd says. He falls into step behind Tim without another word.
Jason Todd looms over Tim just like he did Tim’s would-be kidnapper, but the shiver that runs down Tim’s spine has nothing to do with nightmares. Quite the opposite, in fact.
He doesn’t know what’s motivated the Red Hood to take an undercover role as his bodyguard, of all things, but he intends to enjoy it while it lasts.
(And hopefully, with enough exposure, he might collect himself enough to get his inner twelve-year-old back under control. Really, at this rate, it’s only a matter of time before he calls ‘Pete Davis’ Jason Todd to his face, and then he’ll really have problems.)
I do still have my list of prompts and a bunch of them in my inbox, in case you were wondering! Prompt #37 was kidnapping, and it was also requested by an anon and @frozenbrimstone. I hope you all enjoyed ♡♡♡
Warnings : contains heavy dark romance/yandere themes, extreme possessiveness, stalking, implied violence and elimination of rivals, controlling behavior, and intense 21+ explicit sexual content. elements of dubious consent, breeding kink, bondage, public risk, and obsessive marking. Baek Jeong is portrayed as a highly dangerous, morally gray underground fighter with violent tendencies.
* This is pure fantasy fiction and does not romanticize real-life toxic or abusive relationships. Reader discretion is strongly advised. 18+/21+ only
word count : 0.9k
Authors note : I hope I fed you anon.! 🤭
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SFW:
Claims you instantly — the moment his eyes lock on you in the chaotic IKFC crowd, you become his personal prize. No discussion, no escape.
Tracks every second of your day through his network of loyal shadows. Miss a single check-in text? He appears in person within minutes, baek-jeong’s intense stare pinning you in place.
Sends black-box gifts: diamond chokers he expects you to wear daily, clothes he personally chose, a luxury apartment wired only for his cameras.
Eliminates threats quietly — a flirty coworker “transfers cities,” an ex who texts you vanishes from your life forever. He never brags, just smiles when you mention how peaceful things suddenly feel.
Pulls you onto his lap during crew meetings, massive arm locked around your waist like a steel cage while his men avert their eyes.
Calls you “my only weakness,” “little prize,” or “bloodhound’s queen” in that low, dangerous voice that makes your knees weak.
Studies you like a fight tape — knows your favorite coffee order, the exact way you bite your lip when nervous, what makes you laugh or flinch.
Keeps you close during underground matches you sit ringside so he can glance at you between brutal punches, drawing strength from your presence.
Jealousy is ice-cold and lethal. One lingering male gaze at a party and that man is politely escorted out… permanently.
Marks anniversaries (the day he decided you were his) with private blood-soaked spectacles held in your honor or forcing his entire empire to raise a toast to you.
After brutal fights, he rests his bruised head on your stomach, letting you clean his knuckles while murmuring you’re the only thing that silences the roar in his head.
Public possessiveness: hand on the back of your neck, pulling you behind his broad frame at any hint of danger, kissing your temple like a silent brand.
Builds an entire hidden world for you...bodyguards who answer only to him, a wardrobe that screams “taken,” late-night drives where he confesses fragments of his violent past.
Hates when you’re away too long. Will cancel his own plans just to show up and drag you home, saying the city feels wrong without you in his sight.
Treats you like forbidden treasure: soft with you in private, terrifying to everyone else who dares approach.
────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ────NSFW
Fucks like he fights ...raw, dominant, endless stamina. Pins you down with boxer strength, growling “Mine” against your throat with every punishing thrust.
Obsessed with marking teeth on your inner thighs, fingerprints bruised into your hips, hickeys hidden under the clothes he picked for you.
Mirror kink supreme makes you ride him while forcing you to watch every expression, one hand gripping your jaw: “Look how pretty you break for me.”
Phone sex during his long nights running fights deep voice commanding you to touch yourself on camera, edging you until you sob his name.
Ties you up with silk ropes, edging for hours. “Beg properly. Tell me who owns this pussy and I’ll let you cum.”
Breeding obsession finishes deep every time, holding you down while whispering filthy promises about filling you until you’re dripping and claimed.
Jealous sex is violent heaven drags you home and fucks you raw against the wall, making you scream loud enough for the whole building to hear who you belong to.
Loves you on your knees after his victories cock down your throat while he praises how perfect his prize looks choking on him.
Fingering you under the table during important meetings, hand over your mouth, continuing business like nothing’s happening while you tremble.
Stamina sessions keeps you in his bed for days, fucking you senseless between short naps and forced meals. “The ring can burn. You’re my only fight now.”
Worships and ruins at once eats you out for hours with that fighter endurance until you’re shaking and oversensitive, then flips you over for more.
Possessive aftercare pulls your exhausted body against his chest, big hands stroking your hair while he murmurs dark praises and darker promises of forever.
Risk play bends you over in semi-public spots near the arena, whispering how anyone could walk in and see who owns you.
Trains your body like he trains for matches teaches you exactly how he likes to be pleased, rewarding perfect obedience with mind-shattering orgasms.
Sleeps wrapped around you like a vice, cock still buried inside after the last round, refusing to let even an inch of space separate his prize from him.
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* I'm working on other requests so please have patience dear anons. 🤍
thinking about jerking Vik off till he cries and can't think he's such a smart man with so much on his mind all the time he deserves a break where he doesn't have to think AND IM WILLING TO GIVE IT TO HIM..- ram-anon
includes: giving viktor a ‘helping hand’ [mdni, smüt, händjob, öral (m receiving)]
ft. bottom!viktor x gn!reader
extra: RAAA!! thank you for this juicy request i loved writing it so much like breathless, whiney viktor AAA SAVE MEEE!! anyway thank you for the thought i loved this so much kshdkh
you could tell how frustrated viktor had been recently. from the countless nights of sleeping at the lab to the several crumpled up pieces of paper spread along his desk; he was struggling with his latest project. but unfortunately that came with him not sleeping for days— which left you just as frustrated as he was. but when you finally managed to rip viktor away from his work, just long enough to go home and change, possibly eat something, you were reluctant to let him go back to the lab. and the only way you could get him to relax and turn that big brain of his off was to force him to think about only you.
so, after his shower you force him to sit down in a chair in your shared home, planting kisses along his body while you adjust his legs to lay more comfortably for what you had planned.
“my love, what are you doing?” viktor sighs, running a hand across his face as he melts into the chair even though he really shouldn’t. “i need to get back to the lab.”
“nuh uh, you’re going to sit there and relax.” you order with a slight smile. your hands running down the front of his chest and down his thighs, making a slow descent in between his parted legs.
vik lifts an eyebrow at you as you speak, not really understanding what you mean by ‘relax’. you’re unraveling his towel from his thin waist while vik watches on with a tired gaze. and it must have been the several sleepless nights stuck at the lab to cause him to process this so slowly because it takes you fully wrapping a hand around his soft shaft before he even reacts to what you’re doing. his droopy, exhausted eyes fly open wide as your fingers softly grasp around him.
he is definitely awake now. good.
“no more work. no more lab. you need to take a break, v. think of me and only me. right here, right now.” you instruct the man, effortlessly cutting him off before he could protest you, while slowly stroking up towards his head. in response vik sucks a tight breath in through his clenched teeth, amber eyes settling on you in a look of slight irritation. not to worry though, his gaze would quickly soften as time went on for you two; soon he’d look upon you with pleasure in those pretty eyes of his.
unsurprisingly it only takes a few strokes to make vik fully hard. it was all but a simple thumb press against the slit of his head, sliding your fingers across his sensitive tip, before stroking down his shaft to turn him into putty in the palm of your hand; while his own fingers grip the arms of the chair. he groans, eyes fluttering as you press your thumb against his sensitive tip again. soaking in every moan that slips past his lips as your hand jerks him off. stroking him from base to tip, slow and steady, planting kisses along his left knee and thigh.
you move your hand faster at vik‘s sweet moans. taking a second to glance up at his pretty face as he turns bright red, even to the tips of his ears, as he tries his best to look at you through the pleasure.
“you’re so pretty viktor.” you praise against his knee as your hand moves faster. sliding your free hand to grab the base of his cock while your other hand moves faster against his sensitive head, smearing precum every which way.
vik whimpers at your touch and your words. his body tensens as you use both hands along his shaft. his breath hitches in his throat with another whimper, tears clinging to his pretty eyelashes as your hand rubs over his sensitive tip again and again. god, he looked so good like this. under your work, head tilted back, fingers trembling, struggling to sit still, slipping in his chair, and whimpering your name like a prayer.
you needed to get him out of that damn lab more often.
your mouth waters at the sight of the man before you. you lean forward, spit rolling off your tongue and dripping onto the slit of his head before you follow its path and slip him into your mouth.
“d-darling!” vik cries, thrusting his hips upwards and forcing more of himself into your mouth. you take him with ease as he practically fucks himself into your mouth now.
he’s rapidly coming undone now. his fingers manage to tangle into your hair while his hips move erratically. you suck harshly when his cock hits the back of your throat, spit slipping down your chin, causing vik to moan your name.
oh he’s so pathetic and sweet like this. rutting helplessly into your mouth, slipping in the chair he sits in because he’s so eager to come; mind blank with only the thought of how good your mouth feels.
“mmph! i can’t, please!” viktor sobs. his mouth falling open with sinful moans and whimpers. his pretty eyes fall close as he whines your name again and again, chest heaving with every breath he semi-struggles to take as his orgasm burns through his entire being. “coming!” the words slip off his lips with little warning as his climax surges through him. his back arches slightly, forcing the rest of his cock into your throat as he comes.
you keep your mouth wrapped around him until he finally stops moving and his hips do not falter or stop until he’s entirely spent. you take every drop he spills before he begins to whine from overstimulation; so you slip your lips from his cöck but keep your hand slowly stroking along his shaft.
“do you still want to go back to the lab or should we just keep going?” you ask devilishly, smiling up at viktor’s blushing face.
he blinks in his dazed, post-orgasm state but manages to shyly nod in response. “i want to keep going.” he mutters.
good thing you had already planned to keep going. nothing would stop you from pleasing him so he could forget all of his worries.
Personal headcanon of mine is younger ghosts naturally listen to older ghosts in the way a child listens to a parent until the younger is a century old, Frostbite uses this fact to force Danny on bedrest when he's injured
I love it! I think it is very accurate! Poor Ratchet has to put up with so much scrap 😭
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Could i request fics where ilya is taken care of? Can be the centaurs or marley or sveta just. I need him hugged and coddled.
Hmmm I have a bunch Hurt/Comfort fics that is Shane vs Ilya centered. I also have injured Hollanov that has the same thing! A lot of those have the trope of Ilya getting taken care of!
But if you have something more specific, I can try finding some things!
I am so much interested in ashlesha and the jewels, because being an ashlesha rising.. I just love ruby, emerald diamonds and the moonstones and also the pink ones too.
I rarely see anyone making this connections while I certainly I have read posts on how much jeystha love jewellery, which is intresting since their yoni is deer.
hey! yeah i agree, most of ashlesha is attributed towards healing and transformation through hard and grueling experiences, which i agree with. however, the nagas story is multifaceted, and ashlesha can be found in many different avenues (such as relation to beauty, claire attributed it to wanting control from an unstable environment or to bring people in a way that doesn't require ashlesha to do much of the work. i agree with her, but also the nagas in their territory are deeply surrounded by beauty through materials so it could be ashlesha's can appreciate beauty around them/and or want beauty around them or to embody such). most of the nagas are worn by another God (for example Vasuki, the King of the Serpents, is worn around Lord Shiva's neck)
idk most vedic astrologers attribute ashlesha naks to this ugly demonic thing that seeks to destroy and humiliate (which i think those descriptions are a bit extreme but makes sense), but the nagas are surrounded by such beauty and can be associated with the devas, so idk.
it's like ashlesha can be represented by Vasuki, Shesha, Medusa, Hydras, and it def feels like it's a nak where you have the angel and demon on opposite sides of you're shoulders.
Will there FINALLY be smut in this chapter? I feel like I have been edged for two years
I saw this come across my inbox and was going to delete it, since this is not the first time I have been asked this on tumblr or AO3, but I will answer this one just to set the record straight.
If you are only interested in P4/DOAM because you thought it would be a kinky sex romp - I fear you have misinterpreted the series. I have lots of PWP smut one shots on my account that are easily accessible. You may find they are more relevant to what you're seeking.
When I started writing P4, my goal was to write a silly little romcom without romanticizing sex work. Because I wanted to continue exploring Scarlet/Levi, I began DOAM. DOAM was always going to be about two unconventional people falling in love with slow, careful intent. It was never going to be a story where Levi loses all of his hang ups and dicks Scarlet down for 8 chapters straight. I treat them as real people with real issues and flaws. There will be smut eventually in this story, but it isn't the core focus. That's what my PWP one shots are for.
Hopefully this clears things up now that Part Five will release Friday.
