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byuntrash101 · 9 months ago

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behind the mask

f!reader x yunho smut | mdni 2.7k it's halloween night and your sweet golden retriever boyfriend wants to have a little harmless fun link + nsfw tags under the cut

#17: mask kink + outdoor + primal play (twt p☆rnlink) sweet bf!yunho, also ghostface!yunho, also big cock!yunho, knife play (not cutting skin only clothes, no blood), fear play (chasing through the woods + threats), degradation (slut, whore), outdoor/semi public setting (a deserted park at night), nipple play, spanking, backshots, unprotected sex ("im not angry, im disappointed"), creampie, implied aftercare (because when the mask's off he's your sweet lovey dovey bf ♡)

a/n: im back again on my bs. did you miss me? enjoy <3

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Halloween was your favorite holiday. There was something so fun in everyone dressing up and acting silly for a night. Every year you volunteered to take the kids of your small town trick or treating. You always liked bringing them fun memories. And halloween was just that much more fun when you looked at it through the eyes of a kid.

This year wasn’t any different. Only this time your boyfriend tagged along with you. Which was a blessing in itself because the group of children was going to be more manageable with another set of hands on deck and another pair of vigilant eyes.

You adjusted the red hood over your head and pulled on the thigh high tights to bring them as high as possible, concealing the lace under your knee length skirt. It wasn’t freezing cold outside but still pretty chilly as the night was falling over the small town.

“Thank you for helping me,” you said to your boyfriend as you hoped in his car and headed to the local school where the parents had gathered the small group of children to take out trick or treating.

“No worries;” Yunho said, smiling in your direction as he pulled into the parking lot. “Sorry for the costume. I only had time to pick up that mask” He pulled out the ghost face mask from the backseat. And pointed at the rest of the ensemble that consisted of a black hoodie with a black leather jacket thrown over it and a pair of ripped jeans. “That’s all I got” he said scratching the back of his neck, his lips pulling into an adorable, reserved smile.

“Oh no problem!” you said hurriedly, throwing your back pack on your shoulder, the modern item contrasted greatly with the medieval red riding hood costume. “Sorry it was on such short notice” And Yunho took your hand before you had the chance to open the car door.

“I’m just glad to spend time with you, really” he smiled at you adorably, his eyes turning into crescents. Even though you’d only been dating for a few months you felt very comfortable with him. Mainly because he was very sweet and gentle. So much so that initially you thought it was all an act to get into your pants, given how good looking Yunho was you knew he surely didn't have to do all of this “white knight in shining armor act” to get sexual attention. Unfortunately you fell for the lies and deceptions of others before and ended up getting ghosted after a night of at best mediocre sex. But Yunho was different. He never pressured you into anything and then when you finally caved into your desire for him… well it was gentle. He paid attention to your cues, made sure you enjoyed yourself and he made you feel safe, loved and good, very good.

“Don’t you think it’ll scare the kids though?” he said, placing the mask over his handsome face.

“Scare them?” you laughed out loud as Yunho’s features dropped in confusion. “You’re so not ready for the little monsters” you laughed. “Let’s go” you said before opening the door.

You smiled and slipped the mask off before stepping out of the car. Yunho watched you being greeted by the kids. They were all jumping around in excitement, gathering around you like evil little minions of the night. The scene warmed Yunho’s heart as he smiled behind the mask.

“Mister! Mister! Your mask is very cool” a little boy with green face paint and stuffed leaves cosplaying as Hulk pointed at Yunho.

“Wooow scary~” a small girl with a peppa pig dress stomped her little feet and laughed, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Yes kids, that’s Yunho. He will come with us this year” Yunho took the mask off, ruffling his dark hair before smiling widely at the children.

“Hi kids” he waved.

“Oh” the small peppa pig girl let her words trail off. “Are you y/n’s boyfriend?” she asked very directly. Which made Yunho chuckle and her blush looking in awe at him.

“Yes. I’m the boyfriend” he said, half laughing. The girl then turned to you. “Does he have a little brother?” she asked as quietly as possible and you also laughed. “How about we ask him later, huh?” you whispered to her and she nodded timidly, throwing another curious glance at the handsome stranger.

The parents waved goodbye to the children and left. Probably excited to spend a night in peace.

As the round of houses went by, the children’s bags became filled with candies and chocolate bars and of course the occasional apple from the more concerned parents.

Yunho was a great helper. He settled arguments when kids thought the distribution of candies was unfair, he encouraged the ones that were scared to walk past a particularly convincing automated witch stirring her cauldron and he was just a joy to have a round. Even under the mask you could hear the smile that was spreading on his angelic face from ear to ear, contrasting greatly with the spooky mask.

As the night progressed you dropped off the kids one by one to their house and soon enough the last kid left and you and Yunho walked back to the car.

“Thank you for tonight, it was great” you said as you walked past the deserted park. You turned to him and smiled. “I really owe you one”.

Yunho pressed your body against yours, startling you a little. He slipped the mask off, he was slightly disheveled after wearing it all night.

“Maybe there’s something you could do” he said, smirking, and you tilted your head in interest. “What about we play a little?”

His demeanor had suddenly changed. But his dark serious eyes stirred something within you. You would lie if you said you hadn’t been fighting a kind of dark desire that sparked within you when Yunho first slipped on the mask but you kept the curious feeling at bay for the whole evening only to let it resurface now.

“You know,” he started his eyes falling from your eyes to your lips. “I've noticed the way you look at me when I wear the thing.” He dangled the mask next to your face. And you pinched your lips between your teeth to hold a gasp. Were you this obvious?

“Wouldn’t it be fun to play a little game? How about a little chase through the park?” he chuckled when he saw your eyes grow twice as big. “If you escape me you win. But if I catch you… well it’s not fun if there’s no surprise” the ominous statement made you whimper quietly as instinctively pressed your thighs together. “I’ll even give you a headstart” he smirked as he slipped the mask back on.

He let go of your waist so abruptly that you almost stumbled back but found your balance in time.

“Go ahead, little one.” Yunho said as he grabbed a kitchen knife from the backpack. “Start running” the laugh that escaped his lips was the furthest thing away from the usual warm laughter you were used to. It was cold and threatening. It made your stomach churn and not only in fear.

Without thinking you ran into the park and engulfed yourself in the dark woods, adrenaline coursed through your veins and you left the path to venture deeper into the woods. As you were running and jumping over the branches and roots of the trees that were sticking out of the dirt you heard the maniacal laugh come closer.

Out of breath and panicked you decided to hide behind the thick trunk of an old oak to catch a small break and hopefully to escape the bloodthirsty man on your track.

“Where are you?~” Yunho singsang. You laid a hand over your mouth to hopefully steady your breathing. He was close. “You know there’s no point in hiding, little one,” Yunho said, his breath itching in his throat. “You know… I will… find you!” he said, suddenly circling the tree trunk, the big terrifying mask shoved in your face. You couldn’t even scream, you only started to run full speed, Yunho following you closely, knife in hand.

But your skirt got caught on a thorn and slowed you down before you could accelerate again, completely ripping the piece of fabric, leaving you in a torn miniskirt barely concealing your ass.

But that misadventure was your doom. Yunho was able to catch up to you. He caught your arm with his big and cold hand, gripping so tight it was bruising your delicate skin and pushed your back against a tree.

“Gotcha~” he said, even if you couldn’t see you could distinctly hear the predatory grin behind the disfigured mask. “I win”

“Please” you whimpered, your heart thumping in your ears. You didn’t really know what you were pleading for but when you felt your boyfriend’s hard on pressed onto your hip, you realized you were begging for him to take you. To claim you right here in the cold winter night in the middle of the woods. Like a wolf finally sinking his teeth into the delicious and tender flesh on a fawn.

“Look at you little one” Yunho was growling, his threatening tone was stirring more arousal in the pit of your guts. “All nice and ripe for me to pluck,” he said, bringing the cold blade of the knife to your cheek, pressing the flat surface onto your hot skin, making you shiver.

With his other hand he ripped the red hood off you and harshly pulled on your buttoned blouse popping just enough buttons to see your black lace bra.

“Little one wore lace for me tonight” he slipped the tip of the blade between your breast and under the article of clothing and cut it clean off, earning a frightened gasp from you. The cold air blew on your bare skin making your nipples harden into tight buds. “Much better” Yunho sighed, groping your chest with his cold hand and pinching your pebbled nipples between his long fingers, you moaned from the stimulation, more arousal pulling in your underwear. He flicked and pinched and circled the hard nubs until you were a whimpering mess, each moan you let out becoming visible fog in the chilly open air.

Yunho kept on rubbing his hard cock onto your hip, humping you slowly but purposefully grinding onto your soft side, groaning with each movement until he’s had enough of those games.

He pushed you to a boulder covered in moss and bent you down until both your hands laid flat on the cold stone and your ass was sticking up in the air. Yunho landed a sharp slap before putting the knife to good use again. He slipped it under your underwear, you felt the cold metal of the flat of the blade run against your throbbing hot and drooling little pussy, making you moan at the contact, fighting the urge to grind your greedily little cunt against it.

With a precise movement Yunho cut the undergarment letting your glistening cunt shine under the moonlight, the article was now only pathetic hanging by your waist.

“Fuck you’re already so wet, bunny” he breathed out, swiping one finger along your drenched folds.

“Please fuck me Yun-” you cut yourself. “Please ghostface fuck me”

You felt Yunho’s cock throb against your ass at your words.

“What an eager little slut” he said before bending down next to you and stabbing the knife in a tree stump next to you. “I’ll give you what you want”

A second later you felt his two big hands slap against your bare ass before his hot tip glided against your folds. Responding on instinct your back arched deeper and you pressed your ass against him, urging him to fill you up.

Without more prepping he slid his thick cock into you to the last inch in one swift move making you moan loudly, your eyes shutting tightly.

“Oh ffuckkk” you moaned in the cold night.

“Fuck. So wet and tight for me, bunny.” Yunho said, taking a bruising grip around your waist. “Your slutty cunt is already throbbing around me. You liked it that much when I chased you around?”

“Please” is the only word you could process through your foggy thoughts. You only wanted more of him.

“Who knew the cute little one liked to be preyed on?” He drew out of you only the slam back right in.

“God fuck- yes” you screamed at the sudden surge of pleasure.

Yunho settled a deadly rhythm, smashing himself between your hips, your wall gripping his fat cock tearing you apart every time it pulled out and welcoming it back in everytime he pushed in. Making your mind fuzzy, your ears seemed stuffed with cotton as you could no longer concentrate on the animalistic grunts Yunho was letting loose into the night and only on the way his enormous cock felt inside you.

He continued to screw his cock deep into you on this unbelievable rhythm. His hand left your waist to toy with your nipples again, cupping your breast and teasing your hard nipples, rolling them in his fingers until you couldn’t stand anymore, your legs threatening to give out at any point under the crushing weight of your oncoming orgasm.

“Fuck m’ gonna” you started.

“Not yet, whore” Yunho said, slapping your ass once more and abruptly pulling his cock out. You whined, your high was fading away as it was within grasp a second ago.

Yunho grabbed the knife again and put the sharp side on the skin of your neck, not pressing enough to breach the skin but enough to be threatening to do so. He shoved his cock back in.

“You better work for it. Wanna cum? Help yourself.” He laughed again. “Bounce on my cock like a good little slut”.

Your cunt clenched at his word, making him gasp sharply. You don't need to be told twice. Without thinking, your mind completely drunk on the idea of chasing your high you started to back up against his cock and grind his cock into you. Smashing your ass back and filling the night with the sound of his grunts and skin clashing.

“Fuckkkk. That's my good little whore. Keep going… m’close” Yunho praised.

“Yes please cum.” You pleaded out of breath. “Please fill my tight little whore cunt with your cum”

Such foul words dripping from your innocent lips had Yunho crossing the edge right that second. Thick white ropes of cum spurted out his huge cock that was throbbing inside you. The warmth pooling inside you took right along with him, your walls gripping around him and fluttering as you arched your back to somehow push him even deeper inside you, his hand digging into your skin while the other one gripped the handle of the knife still pressed to your skin.

You both stayed right there for a hot minute, his cock deeply sheathed inside you while you caught your breath before he finally slipped out letting the unbelievable amount of cum run down your weakened and shaking thighs.

Yunho slipped off the mask and helped you stand up, interlacing his arms around your waist and surrounding you in his warmth. He was back to his usual self.

“Happy Halloween baby” he said, smiling fondly at you. You chuckled.

“I didn’t know you were into such things” you said, hitting his chest playfully. He gasped with exaggerated shock.

“I didn’t know you were into such things!” he said, hugging you tightly, trying to shield you from the cold winter breeze.

He drew back a little to look at you, your hair was ruined, your mascara was smudged, your ripped skirt was barely covering you and cum was coating your inner thighs. You were so beautifully ruined for him. You looked perfect. He couldn't help his heart swelling with unconditional love for you.

“Here” he took off his leather jacket and tied it around your hips. “Let’s head back”

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#yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #ateez hard hours #ateez #ateez hard thoughts #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #atz #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #kpop smut

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jyoongim · 10 months ago

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Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,

After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!

But things arent how he left them…

Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media

Radio has turned to Video

And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do

Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.

Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?

You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.

Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do

But things from the good old days.

Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.

Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.

Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]

You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.

You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.

“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.

“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”

Vox was getting annoyed.

Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.

“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”

He was trying to butter you up.

Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.

Alastor loved to hear you sing.

“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.

You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.

“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.

You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.

To Alastor’s radio tower.

You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.

Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.

You turned on the radio and did a count set

“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.

As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.

“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”

You listened in

“I think it could be good to switch it up!”

“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”

“Y/n youre incredible!”

“Video kills the Radio star!”

You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded

“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”

Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor

“A-Alastor?”

His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”

You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.

You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”

Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it

“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”

You blushed.

Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight

“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #Alastor x reader #hazbin vox

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just-some-random-blogger · 11 months ago

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You'll Remember You Belong To Me

Loving and leaving Daemon were the two best things you ever did in your life. He disagrees with the latter, however, and is convinced you'll come back.

Mafia!Daemon Targaryen x Estranged!Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, modern au, toxic!Daemon, mom!reader, exes trope, manipulation, typos, etc.

A/N: HI everyone. it's been so long since I've written anything ): I JUST CANT WRITE HUHUH but inspiration struck me so im running with it!! this is inspired by You'll Be Back from Hamilton so I suggest you give it a listen! Also it's kinda fucked up so read dis with care!!!!

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

"Papa!" a hushed but excited voice calls.

Daemon grins and gets down on one knee. The little boy with burning white hair runs towards his papa's open arms and jumps into them.

Daemon embraces and kisses his son. He then throws him over his shoulder as he stands, making him giggle. The man asks as he head over to the open door, "where's mummy?"

"Cooking with Vivi."

"Oh," Daemon walks inside and takes his shoes off, "do you and Visenya help mummy cook?"

The boy cheers, way too loudly to his father's taste, "YES!"

Daemon immediately hushes the boy and sets him down. The boy is red in the face and giggling. Daemon gives him a lopsided smile and brushes his bangs out of his face, "remember what I told you, lovie? About keepin' a low profile."

The boy nods, "it's our secret mission," he raises a finger to his lips, "a surprise for mummy!"

Daemon chuckles, "very good, Baelon."

Baelon grins from ear to ear.

"Now, before we surprise mummy, tell me where you put the phone I gave you."

"I hid it underneath my toy box! Mummy never looks there."

Daemon pinches his son's cheeks, "good boy."

Baelon giggles under his breath.

"Remember not to let your mother catch you when I call again, okay?"

He nods.

"Right," Daemon stands, "you can go tell mummy daddy's home now."

With that, Baelon runs off and practically busts a lung screaming, "PAPA'S HERE!"

Daemon follows the child, and hears a high pitched squeal from the kitchen. Soon enough, his beloved Visenya is running towards him, "PAAAPPPAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

Daemon scoops up the little girl in his arms and covers her face with kisses, "ah, my baby girl."

He twirls the girl around and after a 360, he is met with a deathly glare. Daemon smirks, "hello, baby girl."

"I am not your baby girl," you snap as you march towards him. You mutter under a groan, "and you're not supposed to be here."

Visenya tightens her arms around her father's neck. At a point, her blonde hair looks like it was Daemon's. He blows a raspberry onto her neck, his eyes on you the entire time, "my place is where my family is."

It takes everything in you not to explode, but you don't; you'd never do that in front of your kids.

Daemon knew that well.

That didn't stop you speaking your mind though, "this is from the man that uprooted our life in King's Landing because of a business plan gone wrong."

That makes Daemon tick. He puts down Visenya, much to her displeasure. The girl claws at Daemon's jeans, wanting to be in the arms of her father again but is ultimately ignored. "You knew what you were getting into when you married me."

"That's why I know better than to let the man I once loved conceal, lie, and cheat on me."

Your words really sink into him when you pick up Visenya when she burst into tears. Of course, she wanted nothing to do with you and so desperately clawed out to him, but the image was really sobering.

At least for a moment.

"Give her to me," Daemon says.

You glare at him and mouth threats laced with curse words.

Baelon runs up to him with a toy bus, "papa, can we play?"

Daemon looks down at his son and smiles. He crouches down, "of course, darling," he looks up at you, "we'll play with Vivi."

Visenya immediately wrangles out of your arms and you have no choice but to set her down.

As much as you wanted to grind his guts, you knew your children loved their dad. They so obviously missed him dearly.

Daemon sprawls belly-down on the floor without hesitation. Visenya and Baelon fall into their usual play mode and you take a deep breath before heading back to the kitchen to finish cooking.

By the time you were finished and calling for them and their joke-of-a-father to come to the table for lunch, you find yourself alone by the dining table waiting for seemingly nothing.

You were about to go get your kids, that is until Daemon walked over.

Your face immediately morphs into distaste. It makes Daemon chuckle, "that bad?"

"Where are my babies?"

"Our babies are napping," he says, pulling a chair back. He sits down and tilts his head, "I'm here though."

You make a disgusted face.

Daemon laughs. He missed your face very much.

You cross your arms, "what did you do to them?"

"You're accusing me of doing something to my children?" he chuckles in disbelief as places a hand on his chest.

"They never need to take naps."

Daemon shrugs, "you don't play with them hard enough."

He realizes his mistake when your face contorts.

"I didn't hurt them," he waves his hands, "I just made them chase each other around until they burned out."

"Good then," you point to the door, "leave."

He narrows his eyes in offence, "I promised I'd be here when they woke up."

You throw your head back in laughter, though you found no amusement in his words, "that wouldn't be the first time you lied."

"I've never lied to Baelon or Visenya."

"You think you deserve a consolation for that?" you snap, turning around to lean on the sink. You wash your hands even though you've just washed them, "I told you I would leave. I told you I would leave you if you kept up your bullshit."

Daemon stands and walks towards you.

You don't look back but you knew he was closing in. You didn't need to look; you could feel him. You knew exactly what he would do because you knew him like the back of your hand.

This was why before he could do anything, you turned away and flicked water into his face.

Daemon stills in his spot, taken off-guard.

You decide to finish cleaning up before you eat.

He wipes his face, "and I told you you'll be back."

You scoff as you tidy the counter, "am I the one crawling back?"

"Is that what you want?" Daemon raises a brow as he walks over.

You still in your spot when he drops to his knees.

"I'll crawl and beg," he whispers as if it was something solemn.

You watch him inch closer and before you have the brain to move, you let out a gasp when he grabs your thigh.

It didn't help that his palms were warm and your skin was cool from wearing shorts and damp from washing dishes. It didn't help that you hadn't been touched for so long and that your skin grew goosebumps.

It didn't help that he had it all figured out.

He kissed your thigh once and the next moment, he had you pressed against the counter, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, nearly lips to lips.

Daemon traps you between his arms, hands gripping the counter on both your sides.

You could smell him so clearly now. It did something to your stomach. Your hands wanted to instinctively reach out to him, but you thanked the gods you knew better than that.

"I'll atone for my sins whichever way you want," he murmurs, "just let me see my kids."

You press your hands on his chest, ready to pull him away, "I know better than to believe you."

Daemon waits for you to push him back. When you don't, he doesn't hide his smile. He grins and takes your hands, kissing them.

Your breath is pulled out of your lungs.

He shakes his head, "you don't have to believe me. You just have to watch me."

It wasn't right, but the feeling of his lips on your skin was too familiar to resist. Daemon kisses your hands, up to your wrists, up to your shoulders, then your lips were trapped between his teeth and you were pulling him in.

The only reason you stopped was because Visenya walked in on you, scratching her eye, asking if she could have help getting a plate of food.

You watch as Daemon smiles at her. You watch as your daughter giggles as her papa gives her a plate and kisses her cheek before telling her he's going to go wake her brother up.

You watch as he carries Baleon and sits him down next to him. You watch him dote on them and it nearly makes you forgive and forget all he's done.

Daemon knows better than to think you'd do anything of the sort.

And even though you sit across from him holding a look of spite, he gives smirks back and prepares you a plate.

#daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon angst #daemon targaryen angst #hotd angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x you

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dfortrafalgar · 7 months ago

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Distraction

Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.

Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)

Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet. All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts. Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.

“What’s got you so nervous over there?” Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze. “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road. Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.

His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog. It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was. But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach. Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.

It was a good life, that’s for sure.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend. “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Ace, are you really alright? Your face is kind of red.” You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”

“Nah, I feel fine. Honestly. Just… thinking.” One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks. All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area. He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain. He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles. (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)

“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good. I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.

He needed to tell you to stop talking. Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.

He might as well have been ovulating.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline. The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky. A few small beach houses dotted the shore.

“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.

Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit. “Public, but very minimal. There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”

You grinned. “Nice.”

“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.

“I don’t mind them,” you replied. “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!” Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

The parking lot seemed sparse. It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there. Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot. During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.

You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.

“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.

“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers. You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.

Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion. You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.

Little prick.

The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand. You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight. Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight. The thought made you smile. You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.

“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly. “I’ll be right back.” He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.

You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees. You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag. Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away. Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other. While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves. And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.

And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked. The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.

Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed. The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved. He really needed to get that fixed. He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.

He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.

Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you. The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust. Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face. The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.

Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.

You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Hey! All set with the cooler?”

He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud. “Yeah, all set…” His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.

“You… you look…” Ace could barely look at you. “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”

Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense. The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure. Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.

“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him. Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.

“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.

You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening. “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”

Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth. The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.

He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time. He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door. You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside. He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.

He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.

After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.

The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats. It was a car built for fucking.

“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue. “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”

Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side. Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass. The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms. “Are you ovulating? You’re acting like me before my period.”

“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue. You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek. His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat. Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz. Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.

“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk. “Hmm… not too worried.”

“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.

He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue. A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect. He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay. Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.

Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.

“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him. “Your suit stays on.”

Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand. You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top. God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.

“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up. A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.

“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach. You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight. “You’re so pretty…” you muttered. You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.

Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude. Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased. This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth. The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.

Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit. You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.

And goodness, did he taste good. A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest. His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.

On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him. Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him. He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head. Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.

He knew you too well. He knew what you needed. Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship. You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures. You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area. Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.

You learned quickly too, however. Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip. He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers. He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.

You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand. “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder. Not like you could see much.

Ace paused his motions against your pussy. “... Maybe.”

You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter. You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.

Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless. The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze. Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.

After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours. You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.

“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.

“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.

Usually, the two of you used lube. It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing. But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today. Nor did you have any condoms. Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock. You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.

The first insertion always hurt somewhat. A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle. The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.

That was another thing you loved about him. He was loud.

Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less. Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.

You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms. You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit. It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right. Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.

Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today. Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.

Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him. His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.

Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell. He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds. This angle always fit the both of you. As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits. His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass. His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear. Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered. The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.

Ace was barely holding it together. The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction. His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him. The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs. Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.

“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat. “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure. Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement. A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat. His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.

Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were. You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.

Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand. You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.

Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing. His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm. A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids. You felt wet between your legs. It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky. You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up. You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car. The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.

You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit. You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.

He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth. “I think my heart almost stopped.”

You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin. “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often? I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”

Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin. “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.” He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips. “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace smut #ace x reader smut #portgas d ace x reader smut #smut #op smut #one piece smut #ace oneshot

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pinkmirth · 1 year ago

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nfl reiner braun tears his alc and requests the best surgeon to work on it. he gets, youuuu, sweet smelling pink doctor coat wearing you and he can’t even take you serious when you’re going over his chart or requesting to feel the muscle with those pink gloves on. you even look younger than him and he’s telling you: “darlin’, listen… im a big deal around here and i need someone to help fix me not give me a boner.” or something like that and you almost don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the best that there’s ever been at this hospital.

RECOVERY, reiner braun !

୨୧ — pairing: footballer!reiner braun x fem!reader

୨୧ — synopsis: this doctor’s got a hardheaded patient! it’ll take some effort to convince him of your effectiveness . . .

୨୧ — contains: ( 1.4k words of . . . ) modern au, slight nsfw (more like suggestive!), footballer!reiner, surgeon!reader, fem!reader (black coded), reiner has an ACL tear, reiner’s touch-deprived/sexually frustrated, rei’s kindaaa conceited (just a little bit!), palming, minors shoo!

୨୧ — mira’s note: ramona, my love! i adore all your reiner concepts, they’re always sooo perfect 🎀 thank youuu for sharing your rei-rei thoughts with me :) now here’s a lil drabble for my gorgeous man! (not really proofread thoroughly, i apologize for any typos or mistakes!)

isopropyl.

it’s all that reiner can smell. he’s a healthy man, he hardly belongs here— in this chilled surgeon office with the most pale, unflattering lighting. the parchment-like exam table paper rustles beneath him with every stretch and maneuver he makes, and his weight is enough to pry a creak out of the treatment table every now and again.

a recurring clack of footsteps and the whine of the door lets reiner know that you, the ‘sexy doctor lady from earlier’ has returned from reading his screenings. he wasn’t able to catch your name amidst the splitting pain from his acl tear, so that’ll make do in the meantime.

you set down your clipboard and turn to face him. your dear patient appears a bit mussed from the big game that took place earlier— his golden hair’s all fluffy and wild, that red football uniform of his is streaked with the green of the field, and his left cheekbone got a little scratch somehow. you’ll make sure to dab that with rubbing alcohol later.

“your vitals are well above average.” you commend. his reply’s a mere grunt. he can’t bring himself to take you seriously. just fucking look at you; pink latex gloves pulled over manicured hands, welcoming eyes all doe and shiny, with a sweet glossed smile that he won’t forget for days to come. he hates having to meet such a beauty under these grim circumstances– after all, you’re the kind of woman he’d take out on a date.

“lucky for you, mister braun, your injury isn’t a complete tear . . . so your recovery time shouldn’t be too long. it’ll last about six months, give or take.”

he isn’t listening.

reiner isn’t even sure of when he began to space out; your lips are just so plush, so alluring. his surname sounds sweeter than it should when falling from your mouth. before long, you clear your throat. it’s enough to snap him out of it. “i’d appreciate your undivided attention, sir. we’re currently going over your healing plan— ”

“lemme ask you, sugar,” he interjects with a low rasp. reiner braun’s well known around these parts, and you can only assume that being such a big deal has gotten to his head. what he says next throws you off, “when’s the real doctor comin’ in, hm?” it’s hard to remain professional, but you do. no furrowed brows, no scrunched up face— nothing but a tight, forced smile.

you suck in a breath through your nose, maintaining composure. “what makes you think it isn’t me, mister braun?” he can hear the tinge of vexation in your voice. clearly, this footballer has struck a chord or two.

“you’ve got pink gloves on, barbie.” he snarks out a laugh, just a bit mean. he’s much too handsome for such a condescending tone.

you bring a gloved hand flat to his chest, pushing reiner back into the examination table. his breath catches in his throat when you knead your fingers into his thigh, right where the tear resides beneath firm muscle. you’re assertive, and goddamn, does he love it.

“i’m your doctor.” you assure, voice firm. he groans out at the calculated pressure; it feels good. makes the throb of pain fade, just a bit.

“you’ll have to put some faith in me, hm?” your tone is warm, words soft and patient in a way he doesn’t deserve. reiner can’t lie, it was crass of him to have undermined you that way.

“my apologies, doc.” he addresses you in the rightest way he can. it’s his tiny little way of making amends.

“so, how long— fuck, how long did ‘ya study for?” reiner tries for small talk, voice low and shaken. you’d like to believe that whatever left his lips just now wasn’t a moan. no, it was more like . . . a groan of pain, perhaps?

“about six years. graduated early,” no wonder you look just about his age, if not younger. all his previous doctors were just as old as his parents.

“smart and pretty, huh?” he graces you with a feeble grin, a white gleam of teeth surrounded by neatly trimmed stubble. it’s safe to say that he’s your hottest patient up to date.

you continue on with prodding into the thick meat of his left thigh, and those throaty whines of his make you feel a way you simply shouldn’t.

it’s been a while since reiner’s been touched this way. he knows it’s just a regular inspection for his stupid injury, but he can’t recall the last time a woman’s splayed their hands on his body. he’s always busy with football this, training that. there’s never any time remaining for hook-ups, talkless of a relationship. that being said, it isn’t long before he begins to grow excited.

“m— mister braun,” you call out, voice airy, “you seem a little, um . . . worked up.”

“huh?” his eyes flit up to meet yours. you lock onto his honey-brown pools of desperation.

nothing else is uttered. you wordlessly direct your gaze towards his crotch, and give him a knowing look. reiner finally catches on— he fucking knew he felt his bottoms getting tight. hesitantly, the blonde lifts his head to peer down at his pants. surely enough, a boner’s prodding at the centering cloth of his football shorts.

“goddamn,” he drops his head back onto the examination table, bashfully throwing his forearm over his eyes. humiliation eats at the proud man, reducing him to a jumble of hormones.

you can hardly bring yourself to contain your chuckle, which makes his reddened cheeks burn further. it seems that his bodily reaction to your skilled hands has given him a sense of humility at best, and embarrassment at worst.

“i’ve never been appointed to a lady before . . .” is his hushed excuse. he’s still got his eyes shielded with his arm— he can’t even fucking bear to look at you. it’ll only spur him on further.

‘i turn you on?’ is what you’re just longing to question him. you know that you do— he’s been looking at your lips with bated breath since he got here. not to mention the peeks he’d taken at your ass whenever you turned around to read his chart or grab a cotton ball.

it’s quite bold of you— more like dangerous— to bring your ministrations upwards, closer to the ache under his pants. you’d tell yourself to stay on task, but professionalism has long been thrown out the window.

your gloved hands trail mischievously, placed directly atop reiner’s hard-on. warmth radiates from your palm, and you squeeze. his eyes blink shut, hips gently bucking upwards. his tear burns from beneath his skin, but he doesn’t fucking care. he bets he could cum from your hands alone.

reiner eventually manages to pull his arm away from blocking his viewpoint, chest heaving with every passing second. if you were to use your stethoscope on him, his heartbeat would be nothing short of erratic.

“trust me, mister braun,” is your reassuring whisper, “you’re in good hands.”

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rassicas · 2 months ago

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hello!! lately i've been thinking about houses/interiors in splatoon as i've been pondering some up for my ocs, & i was wondering if there's any info on them in canon? so far the best that comes to mind is the splat 1 loading screen & that new art of acht, but I was curious on if there's anything about apartments & interiors specifically... tysm! :-]

Unfortunately we don't have much, and considering how much living spaces vary in real life even within the same culture, it's hard to say x thing applies to all splatoon households. the game developers are japanese, the game takes place in japan, and takes inspiration from japanese culture and daily life. taking that into consideration, where canon fails, i use modern japanese living spaces as a reference for imagining what an interior may look like in inkadia. headcanon aside. time to dig up what canon info i've found regarding homes and living spaces

In the Octotune album booklet we get one of the few examples of an inkling home interior, the Houzuki mansion. though pearl, as well all know, is Insanely Fucking Rich and our average inkling is NOT going to be living this luxuriously. one useful tidbit we can get from the text is this:

Q5: Wow! Is this the garage? Pearl: That's just the shoe storage, man.

the word she's using for shoe storage is ゲタばこ which is a cubby you're meant to put your shoes in before entering a house, located in an entryway. in other words, implying a cultural norm of taking your shoes off before entering (something adhered to more strictly in japan vs america). not like this is really followed in official art showing inkfish at home (except for this s1 era piece of an inkling watching tv) probs because shoes are cooler lol

let's see what else ummm bedding.

s1 and s3 dialogue for flounder heights mention futons. traditional japanese bedding typically laid out on the floor when in use, and folded up and put away in a big cubby during the day. its a common sight to see them hung out in the sun on the balcony to not get moldy. some of those things draped over the railings in flounder heights are futons.

not everyone in japan does this though- youll still see western style beds or even futons on bed frames since taking it out and putting it away is a pain in the ass. also not every apartment has a built in proper futon storage space. (...mine does, but i repurposed it into another closet and just use western style bedding lol)

same is true for inkadians too -the bed in the s1 splashscreen doesnt look like a futon to me. point is there's options for what do with the bed situation.

speaking of the apartment splashscreen for s1, there is a blurb in the artbook about it and how inklings are typically pretty tidy with their living spaces.

im sure there's plenty of messy inklings too. anyway there's just a few tidbits about living spaces in relation to canon info. unfortunately there's Nothing about the bathroom or how they bathe, though previously i shared my headcanons about how i think that could work. for the kitchen i think all we can do is assume. Acht has a fridge how surprising /s at the start i mentioned that i take inspo from japanese life where canon fails. ive spent a few years in japan so this works conveniently for me LOL but i assume most people following me do not have that experience. so for those who wanna take that japan inspo too, here's a few small things that are different in japanese living spaces that ive thought may be true for inkopolis? -living spaces are so much smaller on average (of course) -washing machines do not use heated water and like Nobody has a drier in their house. laundry is hung on the balcony, or by the window if there is none, to dry. you want a drying machine? go to the laundromat. -big ovens? like for baking? casseroles? this is Rare in japanese homes. more likely youll see like a little toaster oven. microwaves with an oven setting. i have a gas stove with a fish grill drawer like this. ive never seen this in america but i KNOW in my heart inklings would have this -tiniest fucking kitchens sometimes. a pattern ive often seen for little one room apartments is a pathetic kitchen space in the hall between the entrance and bedtoom where its like. one sink. and space for an electric burner. you want counter space go fuck yourself. if youre a broke inkling who doesnt cook much this may be the option for you. -i think every house ive been in has had a genkan in some form.

#its like 2am im stopping the post here.#asks #splatoon headcanon #splatoon lore #splatoon world

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ranbitteeth · 10 months ago

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hiii i love ur art and ur fics!!🫶🏽

im desperateee for a reader rails mizu w strap fic😭😭 all the smut i see are of reader bottoming and that makes me hella dysphoric sigh

so so like reader stretching mizu out, lots of whimpering, mizu being nervous, mizu feeling full and claimed, just messy subby mizu taking big strap for the first time plssss😭😭😭😭 maybe some pussy eating foreplay idk, whatever u find best and fun to write. i just need mizu to be a subby bottom its plaguing my mind😵‍💫

A/N: Your wish is my command, dearest! Hhmmm I can never really tell if you guys want a modern/cannon compliant setting— but I find my words flowing easier for the latter. If this isn’t to your liking, I can always write another one! More modern and fluffy

Tags: Possessive!Reader, GN!Reader, Reader is besties w Madame Kaji, DomTop! Reader, Jealous! Reader, Straps, Tried to be historically accurate but one can only do so much research on ancient japanese dildos, takes place sometime before Mizu hops in the boat, Goodbye Sex, Misery.

About 3.8k word count, so I’ll highlight the beginning of the actual smut in red and a star! *

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Parting Ways— To London You Go

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You despised him.

The Blue Eyed Beast of Japan. The onryo. The bastard half-breed that killed the Four Fangs and cut through the Shindo Dojo. Now that was a man that deserved a dog’s death. A humiliating, painful, wretched thing— so much so that pity would spread like disease among even the most hardened of men. A white man had no business in your country. Much less some impure dog, chasing ghosts of white men who had long since fled the island paradise. You believed this yourself, once. The village gossip and fantasies of his approaching death entertained you, excited you. You’d hear of his dishonorable death one evening and you’d think —‘good riddance’.

But no one told you just how much of a darling he was.

You remembered that night to picture clear, the image of his slumped body in the snow so clear in your eyes and memory. His face was twisted into a pained grimace, eyes screwed shut beneath the colored lenses of his glasses— he reeked of blood even in the snowstorm.

Unbeknownst to your family, you brought him inside, ordered your guards to gently place his body in your quarters. The servants made no protest when they saw your insistence on saving this stranger. The wound was seeping a crimson poison onto your floor, red and hot and stinking of blood.

The two of you were alone when his eyelids fluttered open, pained grunts and whimpered muffled by his own teeth against his bottom lip. And you saw it. Blue eyes— unnatural, wrong, and positively lovely. You’ve seen oceans and ponds and skies with less of a dazzling hue. It disgusted you, initially, as the realization of who he was suddenly and violently appeared in your mind.

You hadn’t expected someone so…normal looking.

He did not have a pig’s nose or clammy, sun-abused skin. He was not a beast, giant and ugly— but a man. An injured man, you recalled once his blood stained your palm. Stained your floor, your bed and his clothes. You distantly realized your hands were moving on their own as they undid the binds of his old kimono, and there, beneath the worn, filthy fabric were binds. Not of injury, not of a warrior— but of shame.

Alone in your chambers on a cold winter night amidst the worst storm you’ve ever seen— you knew. The blue-eyed, vicious animal that had earned all of Kyoto’s scorn was in fact a woman.

You adored her.

Your home grew to be a sanctuary to her of sorts. For a being so well despised by the nation, the comforts you provided were scarce luxuries. A bed. A roof. Some semblance of protection. You cared after her like one would a feral pet, a feat which did not go unnoticed. With a blade to your neck and blood painting her hands, she demanded your silence— a vow to never break. As if you’d risk losing such a treasure to the hands of bounty hunters of white men.

The two of you danced with hate for months.

She was a silent spirit, a brewing storm on the distant horizon. At times, you’d catch her eyes on you, other times, she’d notice you doing the same. At times, you’d reach your hand forward and caress the scars on her skin. At times, she’d allow you to– going so far as to present herself.

At times, you’d make love to her. Your depravity was no secret to anyone with ears and working eyes— but your status and wealth made you untouchable. No one but your servants would hear her cries echo from your chambers, and no one but you would see her in the throes of pleasure, head tossed back, expression screwed into one of hesitant bliss and ecstasy.

Or so you thought.

She often returns to you like a dog would weeks after leaving. Loyal, endearing and silent. Whether it was out of some misplaced desire of courtesy or a genuine attachment, you did not know. You’d tell yourself you did not care, but Man would never be born without sin. Madame Kaji, the wonderful hag, would bewitch you in letters with tales of her ladies in the delights her brothel would offer. She mentioned a certain blue-eyed beast in her company in her most previous message. Her letter was pointed, concise, and utterly enraging. By its contents, you would piece together your Mizu’s night with a princess– of all wretched things. After months of silence, alone in your palace with no one but the one and off prostitutes you’d hire and the servants you paid deftly for their loyalty, and the samurai goes off to bed and abandone a lady princess of the Tokunobu clan.

Mizu would not show her face to you until spring. By then, your anger had solidified and festered into an untamable typhoon. As your servants led her to your chambers, Mizu would be standing dead-center in the eye of your storm. Something in her was different. Stronger, yet weaker. Kinder, yet crueler.

“You show your face here again?” You ask cooly, and at least she had the decency to look ashamed, removing her hat. Like this, you could see her properly. (You’d never admit to your anger cooling, but it did.) She does not harden her voice in your presence, but it is quiet, timid, shameful. Before she could open her mouth to speak, one of your servant men approach, head bowed deeply.

“[Title and Name]”, he’d say. Your eyes glance over to him, humming as you granted permission to speak.

“There is a white man inside, bound and immobilized.” He says quickly, bowing his head deeper.

“I only wished for you to be aware.”

Your cold, steely eyes turn to fix Mizu with a chilling stare. She only looks at you head on, taking the challenge. Oh…

“Leave us.” You say, but not before giving an order to boil water over a fire. The door is smoothly slid shut, and the two of you are under the illusion of solitude once more.

“I am to depart for London soon.” Mizu says bluntly, abruptly. You couldn’t have expected anything less. You give no reaction save for a short sigh and two fingers against your temple.

“I am closer to my mission than ever before. I have an informant, I have a boat, I have names.” She talks as if to explain herself, stepping closer in light footsteps, hesitant. “I may not survive through this. I only wished to say goodbye before I leave.”

For a moment, you say nothing. Your mouth is rendered useless as your mind rushes with curses. To the world, to the white men, to Japan, to Mizu, to the hellsite that was London itself. The poisonous concoction of rage and envy that had been brewing for months was bubbling and prickling beneath your skin– only now with the addition of grief.

“This would have been much more convenient in scripture,” you say, voice like hot iron. Mizu’s surprise is tangible, eyes flickering around your features, searching for answers to her questions.

“I adore letters. You know this.” You begin to say, moving from your initial position and circling the room, retrieving several items and placing them on the large expanse of your sleeping bed. You open a box, massive with weight. Inside is parchment, pounds of it. “I collect them.”

You suddenly and harshly shove the box onto the floor, a flurry of parchment and ink spilling at your feet. Mizu seems to shrink, but refuses to cower. Gingerly, you retrieve one excerpt sent just a few months ago from Madame Kaji. You hand it to Mizu, surrounding her. You wait until you are certain she understands what she is reading before you begin to speak.

“Never took you as the brothel-dwelling type.” You say, watching as those demonic, off-putting, oh-so-lovely eyes scan the characters on paper. Your eyes stick to her lips before you remind yourself why you are angry. You imagined those lips entangled with another, and your blood goes cold.

“Nothing happened between me and the princess.” Mizu says, turning to face you. The genuine confusion in her expression is almost insulting. “She meant to kill me that night. Our duel meant nothing. Madame Kaji knows nothing that is true.”

“Not every conflict between you and a stranger is a duel and Madame Kaji is a dear friend of mine.” You reply easily. The hurt in your voice was becoming clearer with each passing syllable.

“You truly believe sailing the seas will come so easy? Do you know how many men I’ve lost in my trades on those voyages? Do you even know what awaits you in London?” You begin to demand these answers, losing the control you pride yourself in as you continue to speak. As a man and a woman, Mizu was nothing but a stupid, lost soul, wandering the earth without an object to attach to. You then gently cup her face in both hands, watching in delight as she melts into your touch.

*“Do you even know how much I’ve wanted you these past months?”

Mizu cannot answer. Her hands raise over yours, fingers brushing against your warmer ones.

“I meant no harm in my absence.” She concedes, round eyes rising to meet with yours. Just like that, the room had shifted. Your eyes darken as they raked along her face and figure, recalling what lay beneath the layers upon layers of fabric she’d use to protect herself.

“You can’t imagine…” You whine, gently undoing the bandages around her neck to expose the delectable skin that lay beneath. Untouched, unseen by all but few. You bury your nose into the crook of her neck before your tongue darts out just to taste flesh and the blood that pumped beneath. Mizu sighs, noticeably relaxing into you. Her arms move to wrap around your neck in a gentle embrace, a position you’ve grown to love and grieve for.

“Gods, how I’ve missed you…” you say, assisting Mizu’s hands and hurriedly undoing her kimono before your hands run hungrily along her skin. Scars, so many more than you remember. A different rage boiled inside of you, protective and not directed to Mizu in the slightest. The two of you move in sync of tangled limbs and warm breaths against open lips. You push her onto your cot, the rage you had felt previously spilling out in the form of hunger. You attack her neck with the teeth in your mouth, suckling and biting down on her white-man skin until cherry-red marks bloom across her neck. She whimpers, coyly craning her neck and exposing herself further– presenting herself. Begging for it. Gods.

“You were away so long I’d almost forgotten what a whore you are…” you coo, undressing her wholly, spreading her legs around either side of your hips. As a surprise to no one, you noticed the particular shininess to the downy hairs on her wet cunt, groaning softly at the sight. Her smell, her taste, her color– you’d spend innumerable nights recalling these things in exquisite detail, going so far as to seek her in other women and finding not one suitable substitution. Your hunger had been building up for months, and now here she was, just as enticing as you remember her. Her teeth nibble down on her finger as she groans into the air.

“[Reader], I haven’t..” she starts, but you shush her before she can continue. Her loyalty only endeared you to her further, and you wanted to remain somewhat angry.

“I know, puppy. You already know who you belong to, don’t you?” You murmured, practically salivating at the sight of her glistening pussy. A whine catches in her throat, allowing you to see in real time her strength and tenacity fail her beneath you. The demon man was nowhere to be found here. You tamed that spirit and contained her in your chambers. You reduced it from a spirit to a man to a moaning, wanton little tart.

“Keep your legs spread and I’ll give you what you came here for.” You order swiftly, to which she nods and complies, spreading her legs further apart. You eagerly adjust your position so that you are resting on your stomach, Mizu’s thighs on either side of your head and your mouth just above her wet cunt. With only an aroused groan as a warning, your tongue descends onto her slick folds, eagerly lapping up the wetness that coated her lovely skin. It was positively obscene, the color and taste of her, the slurping sounds across the room and her whimpering cries as months of stress and anger fell away under your tongue. The poor thing couldn’t even keep her thighs from squeezing around your head, effectively trapping you against her pussy— but it was no matter. Your tongue swirled and massaged what it could reach while the tip of your nose rutted against her clit. Slowly, surely, readily— her raspy, hoarse voice bloomed into something far sweeter, and you could feel the ice around your heart melting. This was the Mizu you knew, without the clothes and glasses and false identity. This Mizu was the one you owned.

You feel her getting close, as it was always obvious with her. You felt her thighs squeezing around your head, felt them shake and tense while her hips bucked against you and her breathing grew more desperate. You feel it, she feels it— she wants it so bad she sobs into her palm. You both know better.

You pull away with a wet, obscene sound, ignoring Mizu’s frustrated groan into her fist. Your lips and chin are wet with her taste and both of your bodies are shining with sweat.

“What? Were you close?” You ask huskily, readjusting yourself so that your body hovers over hers, your fingers pushing in and out of her gushing warmth. You start with two, massaging her insides into relaxation, molding her to your desires. She impatiently pushes her hips against you, holding you in a desperate embrace. You do not hurry, you don’t even respond as you take her lips in yours, letting her taste herself coating your tongue. It was a messy, depraved display— one that made her noticeably wetter around your fingers. Her nails claw into the fabric over your body, tugging it off.

“Take yours off too…” she says in between breaths, eyes half lidded and watery with want.

“You think you can take it already?” You ask slowly, dead serious. Mizu nods, a slow and deliberate thing. Who are you to argue now?

“It’s bigger than the other one. You sure?” You ask again, making slow, hard motions against her wet clit.

“[Reader]…” she gasps, carrying a note of exasperation, her hands now trembling against you. “Please…!”

You laugh, breathless, exhilarated. Your lips gently press against her forehead, a soft ‘wait here’ and a quick trip to the corner of your bedroom later, you retrieve it.

You commissioned this piece long before you knew Mizu would return. Your very own harigata, hard as a tortoise shell, ribbed and heavy in size and weight. You expressed your desire to be able to attach it to yourself to please your lovers and so the artist complied. You held it up with one hand, allowing Mizu to gauge at the weight and size before stuffing it with warm cotton dipped in the previously boiled water at your side. Mizu hasn’t even noticed the servant come in, far too immersed in watching you align the phallus to her soaking cunt. She feels the heat through the tortoise shell and whimpers, hips trembling before she spreads her legs further apart. The head was already pushing against her hole, oh so ready to slip inside. Just as you mean to push yourself in, Mizu makes a strangled little noise and you cease in your tracks.

“Yes?” You ask, already breathless.

“It’s big…” she says, repeating the words you said earlier. You laugh, endeared.

“Yes. You want it smaller?” You ask again, but she shakes her head no.

She licks her dried lips before she swallows. “Don’t hold back.”

Unable to control yourself, you laugh, head falling beneath your shoulders and against her collarbone. Fuck.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You feel her nervousness in the tension of her body. As aroused as she was, it had been some time since she’s seen you. You begin with slow, shallow thrusts to get her accustomed to the feel, not going halfway until you hear her get noticeably impatient.

“Hold on, puppy. I don’t want to hurt you…” you say, but you push yourself in deeper to quiet her whimpers. The ribbed surface rutting in and out of her wet heat had its obvious effects. Her knees shake where they are around your hips and her head arches back as she moans, voice breaking. The harigata was doing everything it was designed to do and more. Mizu was falling apart so beautifully and you weren’t even fully inside.

Slower thrusts, still quick but less shallow, and she moves her arms to wrap around your neck in a tender embrace, holding your back to keep herself present. With you.

Some time passes, and you push yourself in further. You feel some natural resistance, Mizu’s breath hitching. You pause and pull away somewhat to check for her expression, finding her eyes wet with tears dripping down flushed cheeks. Her chest is rising and falling in ragged breaths as she struggles to compose herself long enough to get a sentence out.

“No! No, don’t stop. [Reader], please don’t stop,” she whines, cradling your face. You obliged and continued, though far slower than the pace you were going before. Mizu openly whimpers at this loss before she intertwines her legs around your hips by her ankles, keeping you close.

“Could that princess give you what I can?” You say suddenly, still feeling that burst of envy possess you as you rut your hips forward with a precision that only hours of fantasies and failed attempts to recreate Mizu’s body could give you. A shuddering, wanton moan later, Mizu’s hand flies over her mouth. You take that hand by her wrist and pin it to the floor, still thrusting your hips against hers with purpose and vigor. Not all the way in, not yet. “Well?” You ask. You demand.

“N-no…no she can’t…” Mizu damn near sobs, and possession coils in your gut as you push the harigata to reach new depths. Her moans are pitched and broken, you feel and see her falling apart. The poor thing felt so full, unsure what to even make of the delicious stretch your phallus provided or the hot arousal that being beneath you gave her. To some degree, she was yours, and you both knew it.

Feeling pleased with her state as she answered, you finally and gently push yourself in entirely, making her back arch and moans echo across your chambers like they did so long ago. The harigata’s other end pushes against you, makes you groan at the pressure. You look down at her whorish expression, her inky black hair spread like a halo around her head. You see her flushed skin shining with sweat, you see the tremble in her body and think about how much longer you’ll have to go without it.

“You don’t even know what you do to me…” You begin to ramble without thinking, words flowing like water from your tongue while Mizu moans beneath you.

You can’t help the way your hips begin to plow against hers, you can’t help the strength and ferocity that possesses you when you think of the distance that will be between the two of you. When you think of who she could meet and compare you to. When you think of yourself in the future, in bed, alone, aching for a body that will not be there. You cannot control the desire in your body when your hips move in a way that can only be described as primal, and she takes it all. Mizu has always taken what you give her so well, and it wasn’t long before you were both panting each other’s name against your skins, the room now hot and stuffy and reeking of sex. Her voice reaches a certain pitch, her nails claw into the silken fabric of your kimono, and you can tell she’s closer than ever.

A warm flower of pride bloomed in your chest as you realized that one day, if all went well, you could keep her for yourself. You’d no longer spend the lonely nights in your palace inviting women of the night to give you company. You’d no longer need to bear the crushing loneliness in your bed — not when Mizu’s mission would fail and she’d realize her rightful place at your side. Safe and warm. Protected. Yours.

You imagine fucking her day and night when she returns until she’s sore and trembling, unable to stand without your assistance. The mental image and the emotions it ignites inside of you make you openly and shakily moan in sync with her, and the two of you cum in each other's embrace. She’s damn near bitten through the silk of your kimono by now, drool coating the luxurious fabric. By now, she’s hardly the image of dignified, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pull yourself off of her with nothing but a smooth roll of your hips and a near-violent shudder from the body beneath you. By then, it had all blurred together into a hazy memory of warm candlelight, golden skin, and warm, damp towels running along Mizu’s body and freshly fetched water poured into her waiting mouth. You only remember the rest you won for yourself that night, the two of you wrapped in a tangle of limbs and half torn fabric, warm.

But you wake up cold, and you recall why she came by in the first place.

“Would it be too burdensome to stay?” You implore, voice breaking with sleep and heartache. That worn, raggedy kimono is once again wrapped around her figure, her bandages back on. Her very aura is cold and distanced, and the weight of her decision truly settles into your skin.

“We can be happy, you know.” You say, almost pleading but with far too much pride to let it show. “I am in the mountains, far from the city. No white man could find you here,” You can’t being yourself to stand. You watch as her expression morphs from one of sorrow and pity to one of distrust, distaste, and near-resentment. Whether it is directed to you or her father, you cannot be sure.

With her back to you and her voice in the tone of a man’s, she bids you goodbye.

You find that— more than anyone— you want her quest of revenge to fail.

How you despised her.

And oh, how you missed her.

#blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu #mizu x you #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai smut #mizu x y/n #lIGHTTT very light akemi x mizu #if you squint

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actually-well-written · 7 months ago

Text

modern AU Luffy x reader. pregnancy when you broke up. Pure Fluff

Inspired: season 8 episode 24 of FRIENDS; @portgasbru

trigger warning: swearing and description of birth

I know Luffy's a little of out character, but I thought that in the modern world he would be a little less childish and a bit of a burnt out adult. A person that was a very energetic and silly kid, but grow up in a not so free feeling world. Unlike his anime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Deep breaths. Deep breaths." Luffy repeats, soothing her back and rubbing her forearm.

"MY BREATHS CAN'T GET ANY DEEPER!!!" She shouts out despite being out of breath. "Help me out of bed, I need to walk." She demands, holding out her hand for him to grab.

He springs out of the bed and helps her feet onto the floor. Grabbing into her side and her arm, they start pacing around the hospital room, Luffy holding her close.

Her pants and groans of pain, die down just a little bit as they both rub her swollen belly and take slow steps.

"Oh good Lord!" She whines out, the sweat on her forehead causing her hair to stick to her face. "Luffy, I swear to fucking God, I hate you so much!"

"What did I do?!" He asks, dewildered.

"You did this to me!!"

"Well, it was really a team effort." He jokes, rubbing his neck for self comfort.

She stops in her tracks and glares at him, taking a deep breath as her contraction stops for the moment.

Luffy holds (y/n) by her waist and looks over her stomach, he sighs anxiously, "this baby sure is takin' its time."

"No kidding."

Near the end of last year, Luffy and (y/n) broke up, and as fate would have it, about three days after, (y/n) found out she was pregnant.

Despite all that happened, she told Luffy, he is the father, it was in his right for him to know. (Y/n) Of course made it clear she didn't want him to do anything he didn't want to or become a part of something so sudden with hardly any preparation, but he wanted to be in the baby's life and she did always wanted children.

Thus, they agreed to have the baby, and share custody. Nothing more, nothing less. They could be parents and not have to be forced to date again.

Nine months later and after some preparations, her water broke and they rushed to the hospital. Now waiting for her to fully dilate in a semi private room, at the moment, no other person was in the room.

Luffy sets himself next to (y/n) and carefully wraps his arms around her, placing loving hand on her belly and laying his head on a pillow.

"...Luffy? Can I tell you something?" She whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really scared right now."

"Scared?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Everyone and their mom's been telling me horror stories of deliveries gone wrong and yeah, I know pain was always gonna happen, but now that it's actually happening, im-im scared."

Luffy glances to the side, licking his lips as if the confession wasn't shocking at all. "It's ok, bab-(y/n). Everythin's gonna be fine."

"You don't know that." She whispers, crossing her arms in a self hug.

"Yes I do. Everythin' will be fine. This baby will be happy and healthy-well. Maybe not happy, babies come out crying right? Healthy then. Definitely healthy." He reassures, getting a little sidetracked.

She giggles, rubbing a circle on her stomach, "yeah?"

"Yeah. I promise."

The two smile and stare at each other. (Y/n) Awkwardly giggles and looks away.

"...you know what we haven't done?" She asks, changing the subject. "Agree on a name."

Luffy's expression immediately drops and he crosses his arms, turning away from her, "I'm telling you, Solo is an amazin' name."

"We are not naming our-could-be son after Han Solo!!"

"HE'S SO AMAZING!!" He raises his arms to his side in protest. "And we are not namin' our-could-be daughter Persephone."

"I don't like Persephone anymore." She confesses, placing a soothing hand on one of her swollen ankles.

"Good!"

"I was thinking, if it's a girl, Céleste?"

"Céleste...." He repeats in a whisper. "Yeah, I'm good with that."

"And if it's a boyyyy...." She trials off tilting her head to the side as if it follows her sentence. "Ace."

Luffy snaps his head around and raises his eyebrows in an annoyed expression, "that's not funny."

She laughs softly, running a hand through her hair. Her sweat wetting her palm. "It's a little funny."

He doesn't reply, but leans against the headboard, "Arie." He deadpans, staring down at the foot of the bed. "If it's a boy, Arie."

"....Arie," she repeats, smiling to herself, "ok, Arie it is."

"Welp, that took us longer than it should have." He chuckles, combing his hat hair with his fingers.

She takes notice, biting a nail, a habit she hopes doesn't pass onto her baby. "Luffy? Why did you take off your hat?"

"Huh?"

"Your hat." She points to his signature straw hat sitting on the beige night stand next to the bed.

"Oh, um-"

"You don't like taking it off. You wore it to our first date. Hell, you wore it when we were conceiving this thing." She chuckles, gesturing to her belly.

"Hehe, yeah, that thing's seen a lot." He whispers, a light blush on his cheeks.

"Why'd you take it off?"

Luffy pauses, and scratches his neck for the possible millionth time now, and glances around the room to not meet her eyes.

"Uh, the doctor looked at me kinda funny when she saw me wearin' it."

"So? I've seen you wear that thing with a full fancy suit."

"Well, I..I need to mature a little, don't you think?"

"What?! No! Where is this coming from? Who are you?! Luffy wouldn't say that!"

"I'm gonna be a father now, (y/n), I need to start actin' my age-"

"Don't ever say that again." She pouts, glancing down at his shirt to avoid eye contact, "I like that you're immature, you've always made me laugh and it's admirable how you're never afraid to be yourself in any situation. Why would you want to change that?"

He pauses, taking his head off the headboard and putting his arms between his legs, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Please, put it back on." She tucks a hair behind her ear, "It makes me anxious when you take it off."

"Huh? Why?" He raises his head a little.

"Because! It makes you look serious, especially when you're frowning. How am I supposed to be less scared, if you look like your getting ready for something bad?"

Luffy sighs, seeing her worried expression. Without saying anything, he reaches towards the nightstand and places his hat back on his head, not bothering to adjust the string.

(Y/n) Also stays silent, laying her head right under his shoulder, her fingers gently adjusting the string to tighten perfectly around Luffy's jawline.

He let's her, not speaking or moving, not even watching, instead focusing on the outside world, right through the room window. Watching as the people walk by, probably none of them having to deal with an accidental pregnancy or the complicated feelings it brings.

"Can you....talk?" She asks, softly, lowering her hands from the string and placing them on her lap.

"What?" He snaps his focus back to her, forcing his gaze away from the couple below sitting in a park bench as they drink coffee together. A bittersweet nostalgia feeling eating at his heart.

She frowns softly, her eyes feeling with a bit of anxiousness. "Talk. About...anything really. I love hearing you talk." She whispers, remembering all the times she used to ask him to talk in order to fall asleep.

"Anything?" He snorts, "don't get me started." He crosses his arms and titles his head, thinking of something to say that would help her forget about basically pushing out a nine pound bowling ball.

"I saw the trailer for a movie, but I don't remember what the movie was called. So I made Zoro drive me to the movie theater, to see if I could recognize it by the poster. Turns out it wasn't a movie, it was an ad for car insurance."

She laughs and grabs his arm, "how do you mix that up?"

"Ads are becoming movie level, (y/n). Don't judge me!" He giggles, playfully scolding her. "Anyways, I bought popcorn and then me and Zoro went to go see Oppenheimer instead."

"Is it good? I haven't watched it yet."

"Yeah, it was. Really loud though." He explains, rubbing his ears as if he can still hear it perfectly.

"I wanna see sonic three!" She states, bouncing her feet on the bed slightly.

"Oooh, me too!" His eyes lights up in excitement, the exact way she likes them. "Let's go see it when it comes out!"

"Uh, when it does, we'll have a seven month old."

"We'll take 'em with us!"

" I don't think the other people there would appreciate that." She giggles.

"Oh, right. Fuck." He exclaims, scratching his leg while thinking of a new solution.

She smiles brightly at him, reaching towards his hat and fixing it to balance better on his head. The action causes Luffy to pause and watch her as her eyes glance at him more times than actually needed.

She puts her hand on the bed, in the space between the two. He clears his throat and rubs his cheek.

"I've...I've been thinking." He starts, placing his arm across her back, rubbing his leg nervously.

"You can think?" She jokes, Luffy only ignoring it.

".....I think-"

The door opens, causing (y/n) and Luffy to turn. The doctor walks in, putting on clean new gloves. "Nineteen hours." She exclaims, stopping right at the foot of the bed, "How you doing?"

"Like if this baby doesn't come out now, I'm gonna cut my stomach open and make 'em." She deadpans, causing Luffy to widen his eyes.

The doctor nods in understanding, checking her dilation, an action (y/n) unfortunately became used too. "Welp, you're in luck."

"I'm sorry?" Luffy asks, getting off the bed in shock. The contraption pain forgotten for (y/n).

"You're fully dilated. Let's go have this baby." She proudly announces, calling in nurses to help move the bed.

"Wait-wait. No-what? What. What!?" She panics, as they roll her away into the hallways, Luffy right next to her, holding her hand. "I'm not ready for this!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!" (y/n) Sobs out, inhaling rapidly.

"Ok, we stop in five seconds." The doctor announces. "Five.......four-"

"Threetwoone!" (Y/n) Whines out, immediately stopping and laying her head on the angled bed. Panting and crying.

"You're doing great, (y/n)." Luffy praises, moving the hair from her face. Her sweat sticking to his finger. His other hand wrapped around her leg, helping her keep them open.

"Take a break, alright? breathe and we start again in ten minutes." The doctor explains, pushing her chair away slightly.

"No. No. No. I can't. I can't push anymore." She whimpers, covering her face with a hand as she cries.

"Yes, yes you can, (y/n). You're the strongest woman I know." Luffy reassures, adjusting his grip.

"Talk. Talk. Talk. Please. Luffy, please." She pants. Grabbing onto the sheets and she pushes herself up more.

"Uh-um. I-I don't know what to say." He awkwardly laughs, whipping the sweat from his palms on one of the pillows.

"What were you gonna tell me? Back in the room, you were gonna tell me something."

"Oh. That, um. Can that wait-"

"Please. Please. Please. I-I need a distraction." She begs, closing her eyes tightly.

"I ... I was just gonna say that.... I think we should try again."

"Try what?" She asks, turning her head to look at him.

"Us." He exclaims, "when-when we broke up. I-I actually died. Like my chest hurt and I couldn't get out of bed. Then when you told me you were pregnant, I immediately thought that we should get back together." He confesses. "But you know, you told me you didn't want that, and I wanted to respect it, but after all these months, I kept missing you. You were right there, but I couldn't call you mine anymore and I missed it."

He glances at the floor and gulps, "I-I think we should try again. We have a kid now, we should be a family. I want to be a family. And I think you do too." He pauses, "I know I didn't say it enough when we were together, but I love you. I love you a lot and I don't think it can ever go away, because it can barely even fit in my body."

(Y/n) Stays silent, looking up at him with a wide eyed expression, her sobs causing her body to shake a bit and her tears still spill out of her eyes.

Luffy glances around the room, and clears his throat, "can you say something?" He whispers.

"...I don't know what to say." She confesses.

".... Say you still love me too."

"I do still love you." She breathed, "and honestly? When I found out I was pregnant, I hoped that it meant we got to try again, but I was scared, because what happens if we get hurt again and our baby gets in the mix."

"We won't get hurt again." He insisted, "I know I'm an idiot and pretty dumb, and I don't make good decisions, but it's okay, because you're amazing and perfect and i would learn calculus for you. I know with all my being we'll do it right this time. You deserve it, I deserve it. They deserve it."

They both pause and stare at each other in full love and tenderness. Leaning in, they smash their lips together in a passionate kiss. The hat sliding backwards a little and he places his hand on her cheek, they continue the kiss for a few more seconds.

The doctor places her hand on her heart and cooes. "I'm gonna call my baby daddy after this." One of the nurses whispers. The other three nod in understanding.

"Ok, if you guys are ready let's finish this up." The doctor pushed her chair closer, placing her hands on the bed.

The two pull away and turn back towards the doctor, "yes, please." (Y/n) Exclaims, the pain intensifying as another contraption starts. Luffy wraps his arm around her leg again and hold her hand with his other.

"Ok, now. Push."

She continues to push and cry, repeating the action for the next hour, when finally. The room is filled with baby cries.

(Y/n) Screams and sobs for the last time as she watches Luffy cut the umbilical cord. The nurse holds up the baby in front of them. "It's a boy." She says softly, before taking him away.

(Y/n) And Luffy smile at each other, he wipes away her tears, and she traced the scar on his cheek, a small action she didn't know she missed doing.

The nurse gives back the baby, now wrapped in a blue blanket. (Y/n) Takes him and places him perfectly in her arms. Luffy kisses him in his forehead as (y/n) admires him.

"Do we have a name?" A nurse asks, her hands on her hips, admiring the baby as well.

"Arie." Luffy and (y/n) reply in union, before glancing back at each other. They smile brightly, before sharing another kiss, the hat falling off this time, the string tugging on Luffy's neck a bit.

#monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #luffy #luffy fluff #one piece #oneshot #fluff #modern au #pregnancy #accidental pregnancy #hospital setting #friends #situationships #baby #baby boy

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b-lossm · 3 months ago

Text

•+* Biggest Man In The Room*+•

synopsis: in which someone feels out of place..

wriothesley x reader modern au!

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N! Theres a strange man at the door!” oh yes, the thing that most teachers would be terrified of, but your kindergarteners are just a little clueless

“Dont worry guys! just remember to be kind and respectful” you say as you open the door for your heavily muscled boyfriend Wriothesley

“This is Mr. Wriothesley, do you wanna introduce yourself Wrio?�� you ask him as you place a tiny chair at the front of the rainbow carpet on the ground

Wriothesley, mesmerized by the amount of children who look up to you agrees and takes a awkward seat “uhm.. Hello, Im Mr. Wriothesley and I am the Chief of Police along with my partner, Jacques” he gets slightly nervous due to the amount of curious, and un-filtered judgement in their eyes.

You then encourage the intimidated little kids to “its ok guys, Mr.Wriothesley is very kind!” you smile as you talk to them. Filled with encouragement, an excited little boy asks a question “Mr.Wreeotheslay uhm..uhm.. are cops funny?” the boy nervousley fumbles around after butchering his name, Wriothesley chuckles and says “Yes ofcourse! i am hilarious..”.

a little girl’s hand then races up “do you have a girlfriend?” she asks, looking at him intently. Wrio then flashes a panicked look at you and you chime in with the a giggle “Yeah Mr.Wriothesley.. do you have a girlfriend?”

uh oh

Wriothesley goes through his mind on all the possibilities he could say, and what feels like the sea of children starting at him would say “well uhm..” he blubbers out “my girlfriend is a very lovely woman who is inspiring to you all—“ before he can finish his thoughts the class erupts in various oohs and giggles “whats her name?!” an over enthusiastic girl says

“well—“

“No stalling Mr. Wriothesley!”

he takes a deep breath “My girlfriend is Miss. y/n..”

a loud moment of giggles and chuckles erupts through the crowd, you eventually settle them down and say “I guess you found our little secret.., Mr.Wriothesley will read you guys a nap time story while I set up the cots for nap time” the class nods their heads while you pass Wriothesley a cute little bedtime book to settle the kids down

Eventually they all fell asleep and it was just you two awake in the room, whispering you ask “So, how are you feeling?” after a moment of thinking he responds “I feel very uhm, very silly for admitting this.. but I was nervous.. you spend so much time with these children that I consider their opinion on me as apart of yours” your heart softens at that moment “I—you really think so Wrio?” you ask while playing with his grey-ish hair “Im positive, these children are very important to you so their opinion is valued to me”

“aww you sap”

“no? im a person”

“ugh you know what I mean”

“Miss y/n..? is nap time over?”

———————————————————————

a/n: I hope you guys like this one :P haven’t written a full fic in a while I might make this like a series type thing bcs I love this niche

Good morning/Good afternoon/Good evening/Good night

(*´꒳`*)

proofread by @orbitsaturn (≧∀≦)

#b lossm #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin fluff #wriothesley #wriothesely genshin #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesly x reader #wriothesley fluff

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elliespillowprincess · 11 months ago

Text

SHES MY DRUG

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pt 1

pt 2

pt 3

a/n: this is my first ever (kinda) fic so it kinda sucks and is all over the place.. rockstar/band ellie has been on my mind too much lately so yk i had to.

c/w: modern au, reader is in college (premed), biker ellie!!! smut!, reader/ellie are high/drunk during sex, cum eating, fingering (r!receiving) mentions of smoking, drinking and drugs (reader and ellie), angst :(, fem reader, plus size reader, insecure reader, fluff, race of reader not specified, TERRIBLY WRITTEN, not proofread

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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the next morning, you wake up unsure of where you are. you look around the room, its messy and there’s clothes, food, and drinks everywhere. you lift your head and look to the right and see none other, than ellie williams.

what the fuck happened last night?

you look down, noticing you aren’t wearing the clothes you chose yesterday. you’re wearing her fucking merch, no shorts on. she’s sleeping softly, her head pressed into the pillow.

did the two of you fuck last night?

you attempt to get out of bed silently, as to not wake up the girl next to you. standing up, you try to look for your clothes so you’re at least a little covered up. you see your phone on the table, and a million text messages appear on the screen as you wake it.

lili😦: where are u?

dude i saw abby

u ok?

when did you slip away?

where are you

hello???

do u have no service?

ur scaring me y/n seriously

please answer me

im going to security

they told me you left with ellie williams????

wtf??

HELLO??

your stomach sinks as your haze ellie had over you caused you to not think straight. “fuckkkkk!!” you curse yourself, starting to type quickly.

you: omg i’m so so sorry lili

i didn’t mean to scare u

i saw abby she was saying all kinds of shit to me

i’m okay though ill be home soon

we’ll talk then ok?

you set your phone down and begin searching for the rest of your things. tripping over the bottles on the floor. as you’re about to leave, you look over at ellie. quickly, you grab a tissue and write a note for her on it. sorry, i have to go!! here’s my number if u want it? (xxx)-(xxx)-(xxxx).

“where the hell did you go?? i was so worried dude!!” lili shouts at you. you can tell she wasn’t really mad, just more concerned. you guys never go anywhere without telling each other. you have each others locations, but you absentmindedly turned it off while drunk last night. after leaving the hotel, you called an uber and headed home.

“lili im sorry, people were rude at the concert and i went to get some air!!” you defend yourself. “air? how did you end up with her? she’s trouble, y/n. did you guys fuck? were you sober?” you place both hands on your face, trying to clear your mind. “no, we just, cuddled? i don’t know.” liliana takes a deep sigh before pulling you into a tight hug. “just.. don’t do it again. you really scared me.” hugging her back, the two of you decided to go out to lunch and enjoy your day off of no classes.

“did you hear what happened with that camilla chick?” the two of you had been gossiping over your now cold soup for hours. talking about whatever drama was currently happening in your small town. suddenly, you get a text.

???: hey pretty girl.

your eyes widen and liliana immediately starts asking questions, being nosy. “what? who is it? what’d they say?? bitch tell me i can’t read your face!!” you smile as you say in shock, “it’s ellie williams!!” liliana lets out a gasp with you as she leans over the table, trying to see what she said. you turn your phone around when another text buzzes on your phone. “WOAH!!! bitch she really wants you!!” you flip around the phone to see what the girl texted you next.

???: where’d you run off to? reached for u this morning n u weren’t there

your face immediately turns a shade of pink. how is this happening? how many girls who hookup with her get a text the next day? you two didn’t even hook up!! you begin typing on your phone, more excited now. “what are you gonna say?” liliana asks you. “ummm… what should i say?” you keep typing and deleting texts, overthinking it. “ask her to hangout! you know, when you guys are sober?”

you: hey i’m so sorry!

my friend was really worried about me

i was with her and disappeared n didn’t respond

it doesn’t take long before the bubbles appear on your screen once again, a message appearing. you decide to change her contact name.

ellie🤭: don’t worry abt it

u free today?

heard there was a party on 97th tn? dk where that is

“she just basically invited me to a party! what do i say??” you look up at liliana, waiting for her to make a decision for you. “if you don’t go, ill kill you.” you weren’t a big party person in general, especially not on nights when you had an 8 am class the next day. “i don’t know, i have to wake up early tomorrow..” “she’s probably leaving town tomorrow, this might be your last chance! cmon you’re dumb if you don’t go.” you sigh, replying to her.

you: yeah i’m free!

nathan’s parties r always pretty good, he’s part of the richest family here

it was seconds before another reply came in.

ellie🤭: send me your address

picking u up at 8

it was 7:34, you’re adding touches to your makeup. you’re extremely nervous, i mean who wouldn’t be? you were about to hangout with a rockstar! you wanted to make a better impression than last night. applying a final layer of lipgloss, you look at yourself in the mirror. having asked for liliana’s help once again, you find yourself in a similar outfit to the night before. you’re wearing a pair of low rise jeans, another leather jacket to keep you warm, and her shirt. you dreaded washing it because it had the musk of cigarettes, weed, and her cologne. was it too bold to wear her shirt? probably. you tied it in the back, making it look tighter and shorter.

walking to the fridge, you grab a seltzer and wait for ellie’s text indicating she was there. plopping on the couch, liliana walks in. “look at you!! you’re bold as fuck for wearing her shirt, it looks good!” she says, sitting down next to you. “just make sure you leave your location on okay? and give me updates when you can.” you didn’t mind how much she checks on you, knowing you do the same thing. “i will, don’t worry.” the two of you talk mindlessly until you get a text.

ellie🤭: here

your heart skips a beat, and you quickly get up, grabbing your bags. walking to the front door, you take a deep breath as liliana walks behind you, waiting to lock the door after you leave. “it’ll be fun, don’t worry.”

“holy shit. you look gorgeous.” ellie says as you walk to her bike. you blush nervously as she hands you her helmet, helping you on. she’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans, paired with another one of her merch shirts. does she never get cold? “look at you! you look amazing.”

after speeding through cars, you arrive at the party. she helps you off and locks both of the helmets in her seat, grabbing your hand and leading you into the party. you were shocked at her straightforwardness, and partially worried that someone would recognize her. she notices your discomfort on your face, and asks you, “what’s wrong?” she asks, turning to you, stopping the two of you just before you step into the house. “nothing! jus worried people are gonna flock to you.” she smiles. “im only performing one song for them, ill make sure you’re right upfront ‘kay?” you smile softly and nod, following her into the house.

“next up, we got ellie williams!!” you hear the familiar voice of nathan say. “follow me.” she guides you to the front, pushing people aside to make sure you get the best view before she stands on the make-shift stage. she looks slightly annoyed, but grabs a guitar, tuning it and starting to play. cold heaven. you recognize the song as one she played at the festival the day prior. she’s strumming, singing, all while looking at you. it felt like a fantasy, it felt like the two of you were the only people in that room. girls were screaming and offering her drinks, to which she ignored. you just watched her, watched how her long fingers strummed the guitar effortlessly. how sweat dripped down her forehead. how her mouth remained opened in between lyrics.

she was hot.

your stomach began feeling warm as you sipped on whatever seltzer you found in the fridge of the house. the room felt fuzzy. the finished the song with a loud “thank you everyone!”, waving off the stage to find you. you wiggled your way out of the crowd, looking for ellie. that’s when you saw her, looking around for you when her eyes laid on yours, her face lighting up. she walks up to you, wrapping her arm around the small of your back. everything she did was so forward, but it also felt respectful.

“wanna get outta here?”

that’s how you ended up in your bedroom, sharing a blunt between the two of you on your bed. the room is filled with smoke. liliana had headed out for the night after you texted her that you were heading home, she knew. “whatcha looking at mama?” you hear ellie say. you were lost in a trance of her, admiring every little freckle on her face. her voice was raspy, and she was analyzing your expressions. “nothin’, jus you.” you smile at her. she inches closer to you, leaning in. “just me?”. her tone, her expressions, her hair falling perfectly, her hands inching closer, smoke entering your nose, everything is too much. you can’t control yourself, and the mix of alcohol and weed causes you to become confident. you lean in and grab her neck with both hands, placing a deep kiss on her lips.

what the fuck? why did you just do that? you barely know her! she probably gets girls begging for this constantly.

you’re just another girl.

she pulls you back, and looks at you closely. “are you sure? we don’t have to do anything.” you look at her, surprised at her even asking. you eagerly nod your head, looking at her expectantly. she puts the still lit joint into the ashtray next to your bed. “use your words, princess.” you grabbed her hands and placed them on your cheeks, rubbing your face into them. “yes els, i’m sure.” she smiles at you before placing a slow, soft kiss on your lips. you moan into the kiss, crawling to sit on her lap, straddling her.

she moved so she was against the headboard, with you on her lap. her long hands were wrapped around the small of your waist, pulling you closer, grinding you on her jeans. the room becomes more and more hot, your jeans begging to come off. “please…” you mumble between the kiss. she pushes your hair out of your face, “what was that baby? gotta tell me what you want.” she dips her head down, leaving marks along your neck and jaw. “fingers, mouth, you please..” you mumble incoherently. she lifts her head up, looking at you intently. “are you sure?” she asks, waiting for your response.

“more than sure.”

she lays you down on your back. she crawls on top of you. gently kissing your collarbone with your hands tangled in her hair. she gently removes your jacket, then your jeans. she takes a step back to admire you. “so fucking pretty. gonna fuck you in my shirt sound good baby?” she says, reaching under your back and unclipping your bra with ease. you can only moan in response. she lifts your- her shirt slightly so she can get a view of your boobs. air blows out of her lips when she sees them, immediately suckling onto the right bud, massaging the other. “oh fuckkk.. els..!!” you hold onto her head. she lifts her head slightly to say “is my girl sensitive?” before dipping back down to suck on the left one. my girl? did she really think of you that way?

you feel her lips travel down your stomach until her mouth is kissing the inner part of your thigh, getting close but not quite where you wanted her. you start to squirm and beg her to hurry up. “ellie please.. i need you.” she looks up at you, then down at your lacy underwear, noticing the wet spot. “let’s not waste any time then yeah? lift those hips for me.” you comply as she pulls down your underwear, immediately attacking your dripping cunt. it feels like an electric shock; the way her tongue laps at your clit, drawing circles. her skill immediately makes your back arch as you moan her name loudly. your hands are tangled in her hair as her middle finger prods at your hole, slowly slipping inside. her finger is so deep inside of you, and the feeling of her finger exiting, entering, curling, and repeating makes your pupils become blown and your vision to blur. when she adds a second finger, it’s over.

your legs are fighting to stay open and not crush her head, she’s pumping in and out of you while sloppily making out with your clit. the air smells like weed and sex, and everything is so overwhelming. you have one hand in her hair, and one gripping the sheets. she reaches up to hold your hand in hers as she fucks you fast and passionately. the intimacy from her holding your hand and moaning into your clit makes you dizzy. you feel so full of her. you feel the rope in your stomach become tighter and tighter, until you can’t hold it anymore. “ellie!! els m’gonna cum!” you babble out, tears brimming your eyes.

“give it to me, cum on my fingers, you can do it.” she somehow speeds up her pace, looking up at you and seeing how you begin to fall apart. you look down, and when you see her, everything comes loose. your orgasm rips through you as you scream her name; ears ringing, vision going white, body trembling. she fucks you through your orgasm, until you start squirming away. she places kisses along your thighs as you breathe heavily. then, she gets up without a word, going to the bathroom.

“where are you going?” you ask curiously, half expecting her to just leave. “where are your rags?” she’s rummaging through your drawers and before you can tell her where, she turns on the faucet, wetting the rag. “found it!” the water turns off and she walks up to you, still spread out on your bed, and cleans you up. you begin whimpering from the sensitivity, trying to push her away. “i know honey, just let me clean you up okay?” all of this felt too much like a relationship. sure, you’ve had plenty one night stands with people you barely knew, but this was different. she spent the time after to clean you up, kiss you, and tell you how amazing you did. you start feeling bad, wanting to return the favor. you try to pull her jeans down, when she looks up and asks you what you’re doing. “wanna make you feel good.” you tell her.

“you already did.”

after cleaning you, she puts the rag away in your hamper, crawling on the bed to cuddle with you. she admires your hickeys on your neck, and kisses them gently. you inch closer to curl into her body. “are you gonna change?” you ask her. “nah, i’m too comfy right now. hey do you wanna go get breakfast in the morning?” you look partially confused. asking, “don’t you have to leave soon? i mean, you’re still on tour no?” she smiles at you, brushing the hair from your face. “i leave at noon tomorrow.” you pout, hoping she’d stay a little longer. but what did you expect? she has her priorities. “yeah, okay. we can go.” she pulls you in closer, pulling the comforter over you to make sure you stay warm. she leans in and places a soft kiss on your forehead, causing you to drift off to sleep.

you’re riding on the back of ellie’s bike, again, speeding through the city. it’s 10:56, and the thought of this dream ending makes your stomach hurt. you’re wearing a simple outfit: jeans and a hoodie, while ellie borrowed some of yours. you arrive at the diner you’ve been to countless amounts of times living here, and hop off her bike, following her in. the two of you sit at a table, admiring one another. “do you really have to go?” you ask out of the blue. “i wish i could stay. i mean, you could always come with me?” she asks, looking at you with expectant eyes. you really wanted to go with her, but you couldn’t miss so much school. “i want to, i really do. just with school and everything..” you trail off, ellie looking slightly hurt. the rest of the meal it’s quieter; not uncomfortably but just quiet. she pays the bill, reaching her hand out to walk you out. as soon as you think you got through the meal without her getting recognized, you were wrong. a girl runs up to her, begging for a photo and an autograph. you watch the way ellie holds the girl around the waist as one of the waitresses takes the photo.

you feel sick to your stomach. why were you so jealous? i mean, you guys technically aren’t anything.

you awkwardly stand there, waiting for them to finish. when they do, she just walks out, holding the door for you. the two of you hop on her bike, heading for your house. she stops the bike, taking her helmet off and watches you get off. you take your helmet off, and go to hand it to her. “keep it, for next time.” she smiles, pulling you in for a deep kiss. next time? she smiles into the kiss, pulling you deeper. you feel like you’re floating. “you have to text me, okay? don’t go forgetting about me.” she says with a coy smile. “how could i?” she smiles at you before kissing you deeply one more time. you can’t help but think, what is this? what are you guys? will she be back? she places the helmet back on her head once again, starting her bike back up. she revs the handle as you watch her drift away. “bye!” you shout softly, but she couldn’t hear you.

will she be back?

sorry this was so short it just needed a little cliff hanger😣😣 pt 3 coming very soon!!!

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fluff #rockstar ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut

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thevirtualvalentine · 1 year ago

Text

TAPE FIVE : PEEPING TOM !

Starring… YAMATO 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Helloooooooooooooo! So im thinking voyeur yamato corrupting an afab reader would go really hard.”

MATURE WARNING(S) : fingering, roommates to more, afab!reader, modern au, corruption kink, dom!yama, cunnilings (he eats you clean 🐱), voyeurism, underwear stealing, slight size kink, praise (he’s obsessed w you), overly wordy author.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my favorite writing cohort @gingersp1ce547 <3 I hope it was worth the wait.

Trying to find a place to live these past few weeks was stressing you out to no end. Every place you visited had some sort of mold infestation or made you pay insane utility fees that you know you couldn’t keep up with. That is, unless you wanted three jobs. That’s when you met him, Yamato. Supposedly he’s some rich nepo baby who split the rent at a price with you that was perfect.

You couldn’t understand why people wouldn’t wanna take the deal until he explained not everyone’s comfortable living with a man or understanding his gender identity. Fine, so be it, you both would make great roommates. That’s what you told yourself.

The two bedroom modest apartment stationed your rooms right next to each other with a living room and kitchen down the hall. Regular apartment things like a leaky tub, paper thin walls, and a light that never seems to stop flickering in and out were staples of your new cozy home.

Then there was him, a giant and boisterous guy who filled your dingy shared space with laughter and high energy. It was common to find him dancing around or working out if he wasn’t busy. You couldn’t deny there was a level of boyish charm to him that you found endearing. He made you feel safe, something about his larger than life presence caused you to feel at home with him. Almost needed. A mutual bond and understanding between you both as time went on.

You could trust him, Yamato always asked before entering your space or borrowing your belongings. He liked that you relinquished so much of yourself to him. His adorable little roommate that struts around the apartment always in a hurry to do something.

You were too tense, at least that’s what he thinks. He’s always wanted to find some way to relax you, pulling you into his hold while you both practice yoga in the living room. “You’re pretty good at this y/n, ya sure you haven’t done this before?”

He gets up to help ease your hamstring, he’s so much bigger than you are. Not that you’re paying attention though, lost in the bliss of easing that aching pain you’ve had all week.

Yamatos mind can’t stop wandering to indecent places when he sees that his entire hand almost covers the length of your torso. The contortions of your face as your muscles begin to relax. Fuck, he wants to feel you throb and whine like that on his thick fing—

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Just as quickly as his eyes glazed over, his impure desires were back to normal; big cheesy grin outstretched on his sweet face.

“Nothin! Just tryna stretch you out.” Your body involuntary twitches at his choice of words, pushing yourself away from his hold to have some space to breathe. Of course he didn’t miss that. “Aw, did I embarrass you? Your face is heating up.”

You throw a punch at him before he catches it in his large hand, pinning it down next to your face with light force. Yamato leans down into the crook of your neck, “careful, you could hurt someone with one of those,” he patronizingly says following the long line of spit he left up the column of your neck. You shiver and god does it make him want to take you, but he won’t, and just like that he’s off of you. Toweling himself off like nothing had happened between you both.

You’re left a hot, sweaty, sticky, and absurdly horny mess. Stomping through the hallway with more than displeased footsteps, making your way to the shower to cool off.

He’s not much better himself though, pouting as the fat of your ass jiggles when you walk away. Yamato never expected to get this attached to you. The guy can’t even go a day without rummaging through your clothes to get a good whiff of you when you’re out on business. He feels himself clenching his thighs together, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth thinking of the time(s) he stole your underwear and gorged himself on the scent of you. Fingers playing with the entrance of his cunt thinking of how you’d scold him for being a pervert. It gets him so hot.

On his way to come apologize to you that night with promises of your favorite snacks with a corny movie to follow, he stops dead in his tracks hearing the whine creep from under your door. The sound of squelching hung in the air as you whimpered. Were you touching yourself?

Yamato shook his head of long white hair side to side in disbelief, collecting himself as he took a few steps back from the doorway. As good and pure his intentions with you were; there’s always that grotesque feeling within him, the one that wants to listen to you moan and writhe as you pleasure yourself so close to him. He presses his ear against the door as you heave out cry after cry for more.

He felt his own slick collecting in his briefs as his breath hitched during a particularly pathetic plea of yours, heart rate skyrocketing with each passing moment. He felt his morality crumble altogether when you let out a meek, “Ya—Yama please.”

So this is what you think about when you’re alone? Yamatos mind was racing, he couldn’t stop his hands from finding the doorknob, nor stop his feet from walking through the door that separated him from you.

Your back is arched, legs spread as your fingers deliriously curl within your warm walls. The sight forever imprinted in his mind, you’re perfect. The same urge from earlier compels his hands to find his nipples as he watches you, each roll sending electricity shooting through him. He sees your eyes crinkle in frustration while trying to get yourself off. “Ha- Yama I need more,” you say as your thighs clench around your wrist.

But he continues only to watch, wanting to savor every little plea that spills past your lips. How long will it be till you notice him? Beg him to help get you off? He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, rubbing his clit in tune with the fluidity of your wrist. Yamato never anticipated just how hot it was to watch someone like this, so vulnerable as the endorphins consume you; so much so that it blinds you of his presence in the room with you.

Your eyes flick open when you feel movement around the room, and there he is basked in the halo of your ambient lighting. More of an incubus than anything else, his eyes burn with desire as you cower under your sheets. “Wha- why are you watching me?” Although it was a question, it comes out rather declarative.

First he has to stop himself from drooling, your nipples still hard as they poke out from your thin white sheets. Of course the first thing he says is optimistic and arrogant. “Don’t beg for my help then,” he says while making the bed dip with his added weight.

“I did not beg—” he still looms closer, “what are you doing?” You pull the sheets taught as he ghosts his hands over the plush of your thighs.

“What does it look like? I’m helping you out since you asked for me.” It’s in the way the way he says it, self assured that he’s all you’ll need. Ultimately, your body can’t deny what it wants. Your arousal pooling between your legs in self defeat and embarrassment.

Yamato allows his palm to sit snug against the sheet that separates him from your warmth, digging the flat of his hand against your clit. “I can feel how wet you are through the sheet, you needed me this bad?” Your words die in your throat as you look at him dumbfounded, taking advantage of your disoriented state he strips the sheet off your body.

Your mouth is left gaping, he wastes no time taking as he wants. Licking and nipping the skin of your neck with sharp canines. The pad of his finger teases your entrance before it eases in with the help of your arousal. He smothers you in his lust, stroking that spot within you that always seemed out of reach.

It’s not soon that you’re mewling for another of his lithe digits to be knuckle deep inside you. “Patience sweetness, it’s my job to take care of you.” He’s so reassuring, sending a surge of warmth throughout your body that makes you melt like putty in his pretty hands. Sliding his ring finger inside next to his middle, he scissors you wide open.

“So wet from thinking about me, you hear that baby?” Listening to his voice centers you, drawing heed to the squelching noise of your throbbing cunt. Your legs lay flat apart as he pounds your pussy, bruising the entrance with speed alone.

You’re so close he can feel it, your inside pulsing and gripping his fingers like you don’t want them out of you. That’s when he rips them out, leaving you clenching on nothing. “Do you want to feel really good?” He asks while licking his fingers like a mutt in heat, enamored by the taste and scent of you.

He’s stripped you to the point you’d do anything for him. So, obediently you nod and mumble out a yes. “When you feel good, don’t hold back on me.” Yamato drags his thumb down your folds till he finds your clit, lightly circling the pad of his finger on top of it. He leaves feather like kisses on the insides of your thighs, sucking the skin as he gets closer to your heat.

His own cunt throbs hearing your airy sighs and breathy moans, licking your entrance to collect his due. “You taste even better than you smell,” he says against your lower lips, sliding his long tongue past the tight ring of muscle.

It feels like fucking heaven, his thumb rhythmically rolling your bud as his tongue devours your insides. All you can do is allow your pleasure to wreak havoc against your vocal cords as you lose yourself to his touch. “Bet you could never make yourself feel this good, huh?” It’s condescending but it’s pussy clenching, and you best be sure he felt it against his wet tongue.

“Only you Yama, please don’t stop,” you’d do anything to forever feel like this. So small within his warm hands that bring you a burning feeling in your lower gut. He tongues your clit, applying heavy pressure while opting to curl two fingers against your g-spot. You can see the sheen of spit and slick against his face while he makes out with your pussy. It’s downright depraved how he consumes you with his hands and mouth alone.

He finally gets what he wants, watching you clench and throb around his fingers in a hot sweat while your orgasm licks at you. Yamato thrums the pads against your insides flicking his tongue against your swollen bud. “Give it to me baby, let me know how good you feel,” and that’s all it took. His soothing voice coaxing you to your climax. It hit you like a bag of bricks, making you twitch against him as you ride it out.

A string of curses leave you as the pressure in your cunt dissipates. You cling onto his wrist to stop the overstimulation consuming you, but he can still feel the way your walls hammer against him. “So pretty when you cum.” It’s small but it’s enough to bring you back, reaching out for him to take care of you like he always does. This time with the added intimacy.

“You should let me watch you more often,” he says softly while holding you against his chest. The fact you allowed him to see you like this was astounding, therefore he would hold you for as long as you needed. Aftercare was no problem to him.

“You are such a damn vouyer,” you joke as you snuggle deeper into his chest. Yamato laughs a little at the joke, but he couldn’t help feeling it may just have been true.

Enjoy? Reblog & click here 2 see more!

#I need him in ways that are concerning and it shows in how I wrote him #i havent wrote in 3 months #sorry if this is rough #this better show up in the tags #yamato #yamato x reader #yamato x y/n #yamato x you #yamato smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago

Note

WIBTA if i cut off someone reaching out for help on tumblr? i am a very anxious person. ive been on tumblr a very long time because most all other social media terrifies me as someone who grew up with the wild west internet a decade past (im in my late 20s) so i feel sometimes with how reckless and spurractic people can be online in chatroom and especially clearly public platforms where any stranger, malicious or otherwise can just archive your digital presence for personal use.

more recently as someone who has been here during the pornban and as an asexual really enjoyed the quiet with no drama farming and a slow pace to talk about more unique political topics in a measured way it is something im strangely nostalgic for and a great example of my sensibilities to people when they insist that i use other platforms like discord or twitter or whatever clone for these services comes out of the old guard introducing feature creep to copy everyone else or any other indi "were the anti corporate version" of the endless scroll apps. i just dont want it. tumblr is special because im desktop only, been here for years, and i have kept track of every single change made so i have manually adjusted the change through hacks to evade every bad decision on here and make my set up look identical to how it was in 2010. so let it be understood that i tend to be a loney person because of this stubbornness. web 3.0 is too dangerous to people with addictive tendencies that my adhd brings out and my need to wear my heart on my sleeve. so i hope i defended my personality type enough to show why someone like me would see a post about some horrible abuses they have fell victim to who also share alot of the marginalized status as me and writing depressive things in the replys of others posts as to attention seek about it.

i directly interact with this person, not only to check if they are real (but wow, modern chat bots make this part horrifying for me. we really cant ever know for sure what is real anymore. trying to find warmth on the internet feels impossible now a days) i have multiple conversations at this point both venting and just casually shooting the shit. but the begging for me to constantly repost their paypal makes me so nervous in a way that i feel so guilty for because it reminds me of all the scams that get associated with this kind of ebegging and the reminder that capitalism takes away all warmth from human interaction to make them purely transnational and conditional. but then it just has been escalating where im so scared that now its not enough that im reposing on my 8 follower, all mutual blog, they are asking me to share it on other socials. accounts i do not have i have a flip phone and a laptop and i am tinkering with a windows 7 tower that will never be connected to the internet so i can always have software sit perfectly in its time capsule for when i need it. i do not have a way to help this person outside of what i learned from collage psyche classes. a part of me is so scared to just abruptly cut them off and just delete my entire account like i tend to do often on tumblr for a multitude of reasons, its a part of what lets people survive being here this long but i worry that would crush them if i did that, i dont want to make them feel more hopeless and unwanted then they already talk about. but i am text on the internet through a screen. i can only do so much. so would i be the asshole if i just deleted my account with a "i hope you hang in there, the world is a harsh place but keep moving" to cut someone so similar to me who is struggling out of my life?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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just-some-random-blogger · 5 months ago

Text

Why Not Me? | 1

Part 2

Love is beautiful. Love is lovely. But lately, to you, love is a form of self-harm.

Rockstar!Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, Modern AU, low key fix-it-fic, canon divergence, DD:DNE, body dysmorphia, body shaming, smut (cunnilingus, piv, biting, marking, licking, they're messy yall), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: THIS INCESTUOUS SHOW i changed the family tree for the sake of this fic and ive FIXED EVERYTING SHUT UP you cant do anything about it anyway ok ok ok. im half sorry it became so long. idk how many parts i wil do T_T save me. also i cross posted this on ao3 MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST

Tagging: @ceoofyearning @pendragora @worms-on-multiple-strings @barbieaemond

You can hear the live music playing from the inside your car. You take a deep breath and look at yourself on your phone before stepping out. You smile and fix your hair, "maximum slayage has been achieved."

You exit the camera app, catching the text icon when you do. You bite your lip. Your thumb itches. You open it, checking the last message you have that you've not replied to.

From Harwin: Are you at your sister's already? Can we call?

You clench your jaw and place your phone in your purse. You sling your purse on your shoulder and grab the cake on the passenger seat. You tell yourself to forget about the text as you walk towards the open gate of the white picket fence.

You smile at the garden, happy to see it in real life again and not just during video calls. You brush off your iridescent, pink dress before ringing the doorbell. As you wait, you look around the neighborhood. All the houses here were as expensive as the one next to it.

The door opens. You turn back and grin as Alicent squeals, "YOU'RE HERE!"

"I'M HERE!"

She can't help but kiss your cheek before leading you inside. You talk and walk, and the moment you set the cake down, your best friend immediately seals you into a hug, both of you squealing.

When you break away, you lift your eyes to the chandelier and point, "is that the new chandelier?"

Alicent beams and spins beneath her beloved light source, "yes! I swear to the Mother if someone fucks up my chandelier again-"

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!"

Both of you turn to the man waltzing in with horrible dance moves, "speak of the devil." Viserys walks over to you, coming in for a hug, "she returns! Alicent's been waiting on you for ages."

You share a hug while Alicent makes a face, "can you blame me? She works at the fucking edge of the world!"

You pull away and raise a hand, "okay, one, dramatic-"

"No it's not," she red haired woman crosses her arms, "you literally work next to Harrenhal."

"That is a gross simplification," you wave your hand, "and two, why don't you visit me for a change?"

"In your shitty apartment?" she makes a disgusted face, "no."

You make an offended noise and glare at Viserys, "you've turned her into a stinky bourgeoisie!"

Viserys makes a face and Alicent shakes hear head. She places a hand on your shoulder, "no babes. Your apartment is simply crappy."

You make another offended noise and shake her hand off. You turn back to her fiance, "anyway. Happy birthday, Viserys!" you motion to the box on the counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" he gasps.

You scoff for effect, "yah."

Viserys opens the box and makes a dramatic sound at the sight of the chocolate cake. He turns to Alicent, who shakes her head and sniggers. The man whisper-yells, "triple chocolate cake!!!"

You laugh. Your best friend repeats, "triple chocolate cake. Now what do we say?"

Viserys seals you into a tight hug. You squeal when he pulls you up enough for your feet to leave the floor. He groans excitedly as he puts you down, "oh, you are perfect, my dear. Thank you so much."

The overly affectionate gesture leaves you a bit awkward, but you play it off with a chuckle, "you're welcome."

Alicent clicks her tongue when Viserys swipes some frosting and licks his fingers, "Viserys. Get a plate."

"Oh, fuck, I feel like I'm in uni again," he sighs at the sweet taste, "should I grow out my hair?" He rubs the trimmed sides of his hair.

Alicent cringes, "absolutely not. You looked like a sickly lord in uni."

"But love-"

"Oh, I knew you were here."

You look over your shoulder. Your stomach drops. You shift awkwardly as Daemon walks towards you with a grin. "Figured from Alicent's squealing," he says before pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your sides and it makes you feel overly conscious. You mutter as he pulls away, "how've you been, Daemon?"

"You know me-"

"High as a fucking kite?" Viserys answers for him as he takes a slice of cake.

Daemon flips him off but smiles at you, "just dandy, love. And you?"

"Oh, you know, wet."

Alicent slaps a hand on her forehead.

Viserys snorts.

Daemon raises his brows.

You realize your mistake and backtrack, "n- no- I mean, cause- cause Riverlands!"

He snorts and your body tingles. He shakes his head and sighs, "and here I thought it was because of me."

Alicent raises her brows and takes that as a cue to leave. She pulls Viserys back, who whines because he hadn't gotten his cake yet. She slaps his arm and lies about needing to check on something.

"Did you bring someone?" Daemon asks.

Your stomach rolls at the insinuation he was interested in knowing if you had a date. You dramatically look around, "do you see anyone?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "well, I was hoping your sister would come around."

You stiffen. Your sister? You manage a chuckle to play off the stinging in your gut; it doesn't sting any less though. You half-smile, "Mysaria's in Lys."

He raises his brows, "still?"

You knit your brows, "still?"

"I just figured her vacation would be done by now."

You feel your eye twitch. You raise a finger, "how'd you know she's on vacation?"

Daemon simply shrugs, "I follow her on Unstagram."

A scoff spills from your lips as your brows raise, "she let you follow her?"

"Yeah," he shakes his head and furrows his brows, "why wouldn't she?"

You clench your jaw. You feel your skin crawl. It's as though your body was being stretched into oblivion. You press your lips into a tight smile and rub your belly as your agitation builds. You shake your head and shrug, "I didn't think you were that close. She's pretty private."

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then his attention is stolen by the sound from outside.

"This next song is called Breathless," followed my cheering.

His expression shifts. He throws his thumb over his shoulder, "shit. I uh... I have something-"

You nod before he can finish and Daemon effectively runs off.

Once you're alone, you let it catch up with you, the loathing, the disgust. You look around you and feel bile rise up your throat. Everything was beautiful. Everything was pristine and put together. From the color of the walls, to the furniture, even to the tiny pieces of décor.

This is Alicent's dream home. She found a man that loved her and he got her that white picket fence she's always wanted. She's living her dreams because... she's someone's dream girl.

You walk towards the mirror in the common room and stare at yourself. The makeup you spent hours on and the sundress you overindulged in now looked lack luster. Whatever convincing you did in the car has gone. You think about Alicent. You chuckle bitterly as you think of your sister, "oh, Mysaria." You were nothing but a disgusting blob, next to the statuesque her.

You grow angry at yourself when your eyes water. You pace around to calm yourself, "it's fine. I just won't eat any sweets." You force a smile at the mirror, "or carbs," you fix your hair, "I'll just have a bev. I ate already anyway."

When you no longer feel like crying, you let yourself join everyone outside.

Your eyes immediately fall at the platform and band setup across the large backyard. Viserys really went all out; there were lights, a sound system, and everything.

You try to make out the band playing. You immediately recognize Criston in his cream colored suit playing the bass, though his hair was snipped short and he had massive shades on. You knew Aemond was a guitarist but there was only a blonde with short platinum hair on the keys, and he never cut his hair, so you debated if it was really him in that leather suit jacket. But then you saw Aegon and his shaggy, jaw length hair, drumming yet again sans shirt showcasing all his tattoos and figured the other blonde had to be his brother.

Then, of course, there was Gwayne. If you couldn't recognize him by his guitar playing, or his distinct baritone, then you would by smirk and auburn hair. You sure did. There was a bit of sheen on his forehead, but even then he moved as cool as a cucumber. He looked good in his dark blue suit. I mean, they all did.

You remember Alicent talking about how excited Viserys was to have Oldtown play for his birthday, how they cleared their schedule and all. Though you weren't a close follower, you somehow felt proud of them, having watched them perform in shitty bars a couple times in university. To see them have the success they do now makes you feel honored to have been one of the few people who said they were going to make it. And judging by how people were singing along, they made it.

You were agitated by the size of the crowd. It still baffled you how many friends the Viserys had, but then your remember he's an old money businessman... and an extrovert. You rub your stomach as you search for Alicent. You spot her alone, cringing by the buffet table as she poured herself a drink. Immediately, your anxieties dissipate because of her and her unabashed dislike for her brother's music.

You walk over to her and sway your hips exaggeratedly to song. Alicent stills when she sees you, and makes a revolted sound before raising her pointer, "stop it."

"Nuh uh," you throw your hands in the air and move your hips, "it's a good song!"

Alicent rolls her eyes, which only makes you laugh.

From across the yard, Gwayne's attention is stolen. He watches how light catches in your pink skirt as you grind against his sister, much to her disgust. He smiles between lyrics, making the crowd react.

"Oh, come on, babes," you watch as your best friend chugs her drink, "you have to at least be proud of your brother."

Alicent shakes her head, "I am! I'm so glad that people like his music enough that he can perform it somewhere far away from me."

You turn to the buffet table when you catch the aroma of your favorite stew. You gulp but tell yourself you shouldn't eat. You decide to pour yourself a drink.

She catches you, "you want me to get you a plate? I ordered your favorite-"

"No," you shake your head, " 'm just thirsty."

She knits her brows, skeptical of your words as she was aware of your destructive tendencies. She decides believe your reassurance, though her gut was telling her otherwise.

She turns back to Oldtown and catches her brother looking. She shakes her head and flips him off. Gwayne chuckles, not because of her though, because you finally turn around. This entices another reaction from the crowd, which Alicent wretches over.

You sip on some punch and shoot her a look, "oh, stop being so sour, baby."

She glares and points, "you try listening to your brother and your cousins sing about the women they've shagged and tell me then if being I'm sour."

You bite your lower lip, but break into a laugh anyway, "you got me there."

Alicent's eyes widen for emphasis, "yeah. And I don't even mind it when people ask me about 'em, but I really, really don't want to know how badly you want to fuck my brother."

You laugh again, no longer holding back this time.

She laughs along. She loves seeing you this way, "you look absolutely stunnin' in your dress, by the way."

The compliment flies over your head.

"Pink is 100% your color," she says with genuine enthusiasm.

You sigh and offer a smile, "it better. This dress costs me a fucking arm."

"Well, it does," Alicent affirms, "you look like a fucking queen."

Your heart swells. Yet again, your best friend breaks into your layer of self-hatred. You nod and agree for her sake, "I really do."

The next moment, the crowd breaks into applause, signaling the end of the song. You cheer along, though you hadn't really paid attention. You turn to the stage and find Gwayne looking your way. You smile and he smirks back.

Gwayne pushes back his strapped guitar and grabs the mic, "thank you. I hope you all enjoyed our set." He shields his eyes as he looks through the crowd. He points once he spots Viserys, "happy birthday again to you, brother."

Alicent claps with the crowd. Viserys laughs as his friends shake him wildly.

"Thank you so much for your endless support, and your endless money." Gwayne chuckles before motioning, "it's been Criston, Aemond, Aegon, and-" he places a hand on his chest, "- Gwayne. We are Oldtown, and you have been a wonderful crowd."

You applaud as the band gets off the stage. They settle their instruments with their stage riders and you look back to Alicent. Before you can speak, her eyes widen as she takes a sip, "idiot in coming."

You look back where she was, brows quirking in surprise when you see her brother jogging over.

Gwayne immediately tries to snatch Alicent's drink, but as she anticipated it, she effectively dodges then chugs. He groans, "oh, thoughtful."

She manages to make a face as she gulps. Some liquid dribbles from the sides of her mouth.

"And classy," her brother's forehead wrinkles.

You chuckle at their antics and shake your head, deciding to pour the man a drink yourself.

Gwayne gives his sister an annoyed look when she sighs for effect. She wipes the corner of her mouth, "it's my drink."

"I would at least expect-" his words falter when he realizes you weren't even beside him. He cranes his neck to look at you before looking to his sister, "-you'd be willing to share after I've slaved away for your pleasure."

"Oh, I can assure you I found no pleasure in this. And have you been so out of practice 8 songs is slaving away for you?"

Gwayne chuckles but is uninterested in continuing the argument; his interest was never in his sister to begin with. He turns to you, digging his hands in his pockets, "and who might you be?"

Alicent turns between the two of you then deadpans, "seriously?"

Gwayne smirks. In his head, his sister's reaction is of being a protective friend. He's admittedly had flings with her friends before, but he's never been deterred by his baby sister's wrath.

But the truth is, that's not at all the reason why Alicent shakes her head incredulously, "my friend from college, you absolute goldfish."

He furrows his brows at Alicent.

At this point, you procure a cup of punch for Gwayne and hand it to him with a smile. He looks at you then the drink you're holding out. He takes it with a smirk, making sure your hands brush as you do. Oh, he is smitten.

None of that registers to you. You return his smirk with a genuine smile.

It doesn't register with Alicent either, which is why she complains about something else entirely. Her lips curl, "you've done it now. You've fed his ego. He's going to be insufferable."

You shake your head and laugh.

Gwayne licks his lips, laughing along, body tingling at the sweet sound of your voice. He does not look his sister at all as he replies, "I've always been insufferable."

You catch his look. Alicent rolls her eyes, "oh, thank gods he's at least self-aware."

Again, Gwayne reacts; he chuckles, but his eyes do not leave you. He shakes his head, "did you transfer after I graduated?"

You knit your brows at the notion, "no," you chuckle, "I'm actually your junior. I took Music Production at King's Landing too."

His face falls and his brows raise.

You chuckle brighter as you nod, "yeah... we were even classmates in, what, two subjects?"

Gwayne wipes his face. You laugh at his stressed expression. "No fucking kidding," he clutches his jaw. He shakes his head again, "what classes did we share?"

You press your lips together in thought, "the... one with Mr. Boldwood."

"Are you serious?" he mutters, "the one where we scored horror films?"

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember you added sound effects instead of music and Mr. Boldwood was like, yeah don't do that, it's a scoring class, not an SFX class."

Gwayne runs his hands through his auburn hair and tugs on the collar of his dress shirt. He loosens his tie as he sighs. By the Seven, how does he not remember you?

You laugh and wave him off, "it's not that big of a deal. You were always too tired to talk in class."

That was true.

"No, it is," Alicent blurts, and he agrees. "Make him feel bad for not remembering you," she shoots him a look, "I literally went to one of your concerts with her, you imbecile. The one where you forgot your guitar and we had to drive-"

"To Highgarden?" Gwayne's jaw slacks.

"Yes, to Highgarden."

Oh, he is stressed.

You feel bad, and shake your head, "to be fair, I wasn't there when she gave you your guitar. I was the one driving and didn't get out because I didn't want to get towed."

Gwayne nods. He watches how your brows quirk and how your lips curl.

You assure him once more, "it's fine. Really... and anyway-"

"Oh, you stop it," Alicent cuts you off.

You turn to her, "but it's tru-"

"No, it's not!"

"I usually just fade in the background of people's minds. I'm not very memorable."

"You are!" Alicent argues, "Gwayne's just an fucking idiot."

Gwayne points at her, "and I am completely agreement."

Before you can respond, Daemon suddenly walks into the conversation. You turn to him, seizing up as he brushes against your shoulder. You turn to your drink and step back. Daemon says, "Viserys is asking about the mixer and-"

"Did he touch the damn mixer?" Alicent says, "I told him not-"

"I told him the same thing," he raises his hands.

She groans and rolls her eyes. She raises a hand in regard before walking off, "gimme a sec."

Daemon follows her. Your eyes follow him, allowing yourself to look a while longer than you should have.

You best believe Gwayne catches it all. His lips twitch and his brows pull back in annoyance. He mutters pointedly, "so Daemon, huh?"

You turn to him, "w-what?"

He chuckles dryly at your coyness. He takes a sip before glaring at the said man, "so you have a thing for annoying cunts?"

Your face falls.

He shakes his head before tilting it, "the imbecile has no redeeming qualities. It's an anomaly why woman chase after him." He scoffs, expression growing even more bitter, "probably his money." He drinks some more punch, cringing at how sweet it was, then finally turns back to you.

He is both annoyed yet subtly amused by how affected you are by his dislike for the Targaryen rat. He sighs, "for what it's worth he, himself, thinks I'm also an annoying cunt."

You raise your brows, realizing he wasn't just saying this. Then out of nowhere, you find it incredibly stupid and downright hillarious.

Gwyane finds his expression softening at the sound of your laughter. His annoyance did not wane, but still, he smirks and brings a hand into his pocket, "switch to me instead."

You laughter dies down but it's too late, you weren't paying attention. You shake your head, "I'm sure he doesn't actually think that."

"Oh, trust me, he does."

You wipe a tear, "no way. He's actually a closeted Oldtown fan."

Gwayne laughs, loud and mocking. The taken aback giggle that leaves you is the only reason he actually starts laughing genuinely. He clutches his side and moves towards the table, "is he now?"

You watch him put his drink down, "he is! He practically ran out of the door when he heard you announce the last song."

He sniggers, "pathetic bastard," he steps closer, "but who can blame him? I quite like Breathless myself." He brushes his lips and looks you up and down, "though I much prefer someone who dances to my songs unabashedly."

You smile, unaware of him still, "oh, I'm sure you do."

Gwayne, in truth, is also unware of you, far too wrapped up in the way you smiled and how your skin glowed in this light. In his head, this conversation was going swimmingly, because when has it ever not— Which is why he says, "let's go dancing in my bedroom."

You do a double take. Your jaw drops, "I beg your pardon."

He tilts his head, "I have about a hundred records and a vinyl player. I'm sure your dress would look even prettier under my lights."

When he takes another step forward, only then do realize what's happening. His stance. His eyes. His lips. It's all coming together. It stabs into your belly and you're suddenly bleeding all over yourself.

Your breath hitches. He catches it, and causes the corner of his lips to quirk. He is pleased. "What do you say?" he leans on one leg and brings his hands in his pockets.

What do you say?

You say you were still reeling from your sobering encounter with Daemon. Of course you always knew he was a playboy and he slept around, of course you knew he would never be seriously interested in you, but realizing any sort of interest he had in the first place was because of your sister again— it doesn't hurt you any less. It hurts you more each time. The next second, you are reminded of every man who's ever shown you interest and recall what they really wanted from you.

And as your mind raced with these thoughts and the sight of Gwayne Hightower— multi-award winning Gwayne Hightower, front cover of Rogue magazine Gwayne Hightower, Oldtown hearthrob Gwayne Hightower-

"Alicent doesn't have to know," he mutters and shrugs.

Oh.

He gives a lopsided smile.

If you somehow didn't know before, you know now exactly what he wanted from you.

You turn to your feet. But Harwin...

You scoff at yourself. Who were you joking?

You feel pathetic enough for you to look up and say, "okay."

Gwayne examines your face. He notices how your expression shifted but still, his smile spreads. He reaches a hand to you and you take it without a second thought.

You walk off and you don't even bother looking for Alicent at all. Before you leave, you do encounter his cousin, Aegon. Your eyes lock as you pass each other, and so you decide to smile at him, "nice tats, Aeg."

He freezes and watches as you and Gwayne leave.

Gwayne raves as he drives, telling you about The White Walkers, how it was his favorite band and how excited he was when Oldtown got to play with them. He rambles some more before asking you about your tastes. You brush him off at first, uninterested in indulging conversation.

You shake your head, "it's not very interesting."

"I'm pretty sure I get to decide what I find interesting or not."

You watch him give you that trademark smirk of his and you want to so badly believe he wasn't just saying that to get in your pants.

You don't but you humor him, "I'm more of a jazz sort of person."

"Aha," he maneuvers the steering wheel, "so extended chords and irregular tempos get you going?"

You lean into the passenger seat and smile, "don't forget nonfunctional harmony."

His dimples deepen. He takes a turn, "so what, you're too good for The White Walkers?"

"I did not say that."

"Well," he sighs deeply, "you don't seem to want to say much so I'm going to have to make things up as I go."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at him. You look out the window and miss the way he smiles at you.

"Fine," you start, "there's an artist called Khiara. She's makes incredible music. She's Lengii, and she infuses a lot of her native sound in her music. It's stunning."

He nods, "Khiara."

"Yeah..." you give him a passing smile before looking away again, "she's great."

"I'm sure she is."

He did not mean it in a mocking way, but it comes across to you as such. You scoff and resign to watching the buildings pass.

"Are you a jazz musician by taste and profession?"

You roll your eyes at his adamance at small talk, "I'm a music teacher."

His brows quirk, "what? No way, that's-"

"Underwhelming?" you look back at him.

"Cool," he spares you a look before bringing his eyes back on the road, "you teach jazz?"

"I teach 4th graders."

"Even better," he smiles, "I couldn't teach a dog to bark even if I tried so, consider me impressed."

"Mmm. I'll add it to my CV."

He snorts.

You look out the window again, "that one rockstar is impressed by me."

He leans an elbow on the car door and brushes his lips as he chuckles. Gods, you were a dream.

When you reach his apartment, you realize just how much of a rockstar he really was. His place was huge, and he had such eccentric furnishing, from a full on display of a suit of armour, to posters of obscenely niche bands. They didn't make sense and yet they fit perfectly together. And when he said he had a hundred records in his bedroom, you think he was actually playing it down.

You both take your shoes off before entering his bedroom. Gwayne leads you by the hand and motions to his collection, "I'm sure I have something here that's jazzy enough for you."

You raise your brows at him and pull away, effectively stopping him in his tracks before he can go through his records.

His brow quirks, "what is it?"

"Did you really take me home to dance in your bedroom?"

Gwayne chuckles as you walk past him. He eyes your body as you inch towards his bed and sequentially sit by the foot. You place your hands on your knees and raise your brows at him. He licks his lips and shrugs, "did 'dancing in my bedroom' sound like an innuendo to you?"

You scoff out a chuckle and roll your eyes, "you really are an annoying cunt."

Gwayne lowers his gaze, licking his teeth. He saunters over, hands in his pockets. He stops once he is directly in front of you, "do you want me to stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being an annoying cunt?"

"I want you to stop wasting my time," you retort, "unlike you, I work a 9-5."

He laughs, dropping his head. He raises his hands in surrender, "damn. Where did you come from? You were so smiley and sweet not even an hour ago."

You forfeit a response and simply lean back on the bed.

That wipes the smile off his face. He looks down on you, feeling his breath grow heavy at your expression. He clenches his jaw, undoes his tie, and drops to his knees.

You can't stop your lips from parting.

He rubs his hands up your shins, measuring your reaction. You simply watch as his hands disappear underneath your skirt. Your breath hitches when he squeezes your thighs. Gwayne pushes closer, and you wouldn't have minded, had he not kissed your knee.

"Wait," you reach out to his head.

Gwayne gulps as he looks up at you, eager to know where he went wrong.

"No kissing," you mutter.

He hears it, repeats it in head, then repeats it out loud, "no kissing?"

You bite your lip and stroke his cheek, "no kissing."

It takes a moment for him to realize you were being serious, and when he does, he slowly nods, repeating again, "no kissing."

You nod and straighten up. You brush your hands up his arms then proceed to unbutton his white dress shirt, "you can bite, you can lick," you lick your lips on cue, "I'll even let you spit on me—"

"Mmm, fuck."

"—but no kissing." You slip your hands into his shirt, "you good with that, Hightower?"

"Fuck," he hooks his hands behind your knees and tugs you forward. You squeak and grip his shoulders. He slots himself between your legs, "no kissing anything?"

Your breath strains when his nails drag up the inside of your thighs, trailing to your waistband. Your brush your noses together, shaking your head, "anything."

He hisses, baring his teeth. He is unbelievably compelled to kiss you. He knocks his nose into your cheek, nostrils flaring, jaw muscles feathering. He breathes against your ear, "not even here, pretty girl?"

You feel his fingers brush across your soft belly and sink past your navel. You whimper when his fingers press into your core. He tuts and bites your neck at your attempt to you close your legs, "nah, ah, ah, ah. No fair. You need to play fair with me, sweetheart."

You rest your head on his toned shoulder. You squeeze his biceps, taking a moment to relax before willingly parting your legs.

He makes a pleased sound, "good girl," he nips your earlobe, "now, say it for me. Will you play fair?"

You sigh against his trapezius as your hand clutches his neck. You lick his skin before biting and whimpering, "yes."

"Seven gods," he groans, turning to kiss you. He tilts your head back, lips nearly landing on yours, but the sight of your smeared lipstick reminds him that he can't. His mind raceswith all the things he wants to do you. He starts by smearing your lipstick with his thumb and biting your lips.

You whimper and push him by the chest.

He licks your cheek and shakes his head, "I'm not kissing you, baby."

You dig your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "annoying fucking cunt."

He laughs and pulls away. His hair is messy and your stomach drops when he swipes the lipstick on his thumb on his lower lip, "I am. Now lie down." He bunches your skirt up.

You refuse to fully lie down, wanting, no, needing to see him. His eyes stay fixed on yours as his nails bite your thighs and his teeth stake their claim. He shakes his head, nose brushing against you, "told you to lie down."

"Mmm," you comb the hair out of his face, "want to see your pretty face."

He smirks and rids you of your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, "we'll see."

Gwayne sinks into you, his tongue and lips lapping into your folds. He works with confidence and feasts in a way that makes you writhe. You are powerless against his finesse. Your breath strains as you fall on the bed. He grips your hips, keeping you from moving too much, and you are never not amazed at just how strong men can be, "mmm, 's what I thought."

Before you know it, all you can do is arch your back, tug his hair, and call out his name. It only inspires him to be more diligent. He basks in the power he has over you. He moans as you become increasingly frantic and curses when you come undone all over his mouth.

He allows you momentary repose as he rises from your legs. You look up at him, heart racing as he licks his lips. Fuck, he was beautiful. You wipe the sheen off his chin and feel your stomach drop when he licks your thumb.

Let it never be said that Gwayne Hightower is a talentless prick. Go say what you want about how he sings and speaks, but gods, the man can use his mouth.

It was both so quick and not quick enough until you're both naked. Gwayne has to make the conscious decision to leave bites on your skin instead of kisses, and you suppose this is the reason why he ends up trapped beneath you. You take advantage of his distraction and lose yourself as you ride him, unabashedly bouncing on his hips as your hands reveled in his toned belly. He squeezes every part of you he can get his hands on, relishing the firmness of your hips, the delicateness of your breasts, the softness of you. It was in these moments you didn't mind your build, knowing well these mortal men looked at you like a goddess.

He can't help himself and sits up to graze your skin. He leaves marks all over your throat and nips your lips every time you drive him wild with your noises. He thinks about how badly he wants you to stain his mouth with your lipstick, and in that moment, you push him back and shift your weight into his shoulders.

He curses for the nth time and brings one hand up to the base of your neck. You lean into his touch. His thumb brushes over your lips and you suck on his finger. It makes him claw at the small of your back with his other hand.

Gwayne watches the way your body quakes at the force of your actions. He commits the sight to memory as he feels his belly tighten. He pulls his thumb away with a pop and aids your movements with the thrust of his hips. You call his name out like a mantra as you feel pressure building inside you.

And then it was hot and electric. And then you felt yourself melt into a burning mess as slowly your bones turned to jelly.

You fall into his chest and catch your breath. You can feel both your hearts racing with your sweaty skin pressed together like this.

Gwayne wipes his face and brushes his hair back, mind hazy, mouth dry. Before he can bring an arm around you, you're pushing yourself up and climbing off him. He turns to your side, expecting you to lie next to him, but you make him knit his brows when you grab your dress from the floor, "where's your bathroom?"

He rolls on his belly and points, "just outside."

You cover yourself with your dress and pick up your underwear. You quickly find the bathroom and open the light. You give yourself a jumpscare when you catch reflection on the mirror.

You look like you were caught in a violent accident, with your hair messy and your lipstick in places you didn't expect. You body looked horrendous, worse under this lighting. You gulp and wonder how horny Gwyane must have been to want to take you home. You feel pathetic. You feel nasty. It's no wonder why no one's seriously interested in you. You were a disgusting fat fuck who's only point of interest is her pussy.

You wash yourself as much as you can, get dressed, and take a few deep breaths before exiting.

When you step back into his bedroom, you hear music playing. Was that-

"Khiara," Gwayne says, still sprawled on his belly, butt naked. His eyes are on his phone, "she is incredible."

You look around for your purse, wondering if it was here on in his car.

He turns to you when you do not respond, his expression dropping upon seeing you dressed. He sits up, "is something wrong?"

You spot your purse and smile to yourself, "nope. Just need to call an Ubor."

He watches you grab your purse and pull out your phone. It takes a moment for him to register what was happening. His pride is wounded, "you're not going to stay?"

"Like I said, nine to fi-"

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he leans into his thighs.

You glance at him, catching his sullen expression.

"Don't go."

You ignore the bubbling in your stomach. You chew your lip and walk towards him. He watches you intently. You rest your knee on his thigh, and he immediately straightens up to grab your hips. You take his chin and look at the mess on him, your lipstick, your slick, your spit, then whisper, "I've got things to do."

He rubs your sides, "do they do you better than me?"

Neither of you react.

You think about the convenience store you passed on the drive here. You decide you can wait for your Ubor there and pull away from him, "this was really fun, rockstar."

Gwayne huffs, lowers his gaze, and pinches the bridge of his nose, "no, wait-"

"Good night," you walk off.

He grabs his pants, "let me drive you home."

You ignore him and rush to his door, "good night."

"Wait, dammit!"

You sigh in relief once you're out his home. You forfeit the elevator and head to the stairwell. Halfway through your descent, the door above slams open, and you look up to see a frantic looking Gwayne.

"Really?! The stairs?!"

You wrap your arms around yourself, watching him runs down to you. His face is still messy. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his pants aren't zipped. He sighs, shaking his hands, "what?! what? Am I a bad driver?"

You bite your lip and shake your head.

He huffs and waves a hand, "am I a bad lover?"

Your stomach rolls. You turn to your feet, "I wouldn't know, you're not my lover-"

"Fuck- am I a bad... fuck- sexual partner!" he blurts, zipping his pants then adjusting his shoes.

"No," you chuckle guiltily, "you were... you were amazing-"

"Rate it 1 to 10," he begins to button his shirt.

You look up at him incredulously and sigh, "Gwayne, I just really want to go home."

"Then stop bruising my ego and let me take you home," he shakes his hands in frustration. You stare at each other for a moment. The look on his face makes you want to be swallowed by the ground. You go down a few steps, and Gwayne steps once before sighing. He places his hands in his pockets, "I just... I thought it was going really well."

I look up at him.

He another step forward.

Your mind races. You can't help but relive all your bad memories in this moment. The sheen on his chest tells you bad this is going to hurt if you dive into it. Gods, fucking around with someone in Oldtown? You shrug, "it was, I think."

"Then," he steps forward and grabs your shoulders, "let's at least end it on a good note." You watch him motions with his head, "and let's take the fucking lift while we're at it."

He heads for the door. You suck in a breath and simply go down.

Gwayne holds the door for you and does a double take when he sees you walking off "seriously?"

"Stairs or nothing, buddy. I need the cardio."

"Well, if it's cardio you want," he rushes after you, "I am happy to help."

You glare at him once he's beside you.

Gwayne chuckles at it, feigning a look of innocence, "I have a treadmill in my flat. I don't know what you're thinking, dirty girl." You roll your eyes, making him laugh, "well, I mean I do, you practically jumped me."

"Oh, what, like you didn't think of it."

He gasps, "I am a gentleman."

"Mmm, you must think you're cute."

"Not nearly as cute as you," he grabs your arm once you reach the next door in the stairwell, "now for the love of the Mother, let's fucking take the lift."

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