#I was having a nice day with my friends then my friends had to momentarily leave
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myrxellabaratheon · 4 months ago
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People have been asking me how I could relate to Stolas when Blitzø is the one they are trying to make you relate to throughout the entire series.
It’s just… the need to be always perfect and fit in the image of you others painted, the uncertainty and impossibility of living of your own accord all not to let others down, not knowing if/and/when you are imposing and just questioning each of the people in your life because maybe they feel obligated to be; the incapability of understanding social clues and being always in the corners or in the shadow during parties and social events…
I just… how can you NOT relate to Stolas?!
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toji-bunny-girl · 6 months ago
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bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day
ON THE H★USE !!
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#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭
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“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”
“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”
It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 
“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”
“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”
Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 
15,900 yen. 
The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 
Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 
“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 
Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 
It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 
His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 
“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?
Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”
“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 
The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 
“(Y/N)?”
A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 
How fucking lucky.
“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Y-You…as—”
“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 
“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 
“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.
“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 
“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”
“Fucking whore.”
“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”
“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 
A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 
“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 
Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.
A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 
Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 
The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”
“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 
Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 
His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 
Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”
Cute, Toji chortled. 
Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 
A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 
The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 
“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 
“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 
“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 
“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.
You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 
His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 
“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 
His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”
With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 
His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 
Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 
Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 
Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 
Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths
“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”
Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 
“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 
With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 
Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 
You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”
“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”
You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 
“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 
You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 
Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 
“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 
“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 
His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”
“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 
Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 
Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 
You almost fell in love. 
Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 
Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 
His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 
Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 
He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.
“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.
“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.
“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.
“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”
“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”
Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.
“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.
“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.
“What d’ya say?”
Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”
Aww. How fucking adorable.
You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”
“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.
“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.
“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”
“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”
Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”
Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”
“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”
“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.
“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.
“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.
“Cum f’me again, baby?”
“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.
Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.
Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.
“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”
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© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work
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digiflora · 10 months ago
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𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!
╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )
he just can't get enough of your pussy !
› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)
╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭
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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.
this is a dangerous game when he's involved
as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen
and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?
he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.
so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.
and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.
it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.
and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.
you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.
"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"
any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.
he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.
"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,
"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.
your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.
"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.
always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.
"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.
"but you love it."
you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.
he's the type of man who's best in small doses
the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent
but there's ways around that
"sampo, do you ever shut up?"
ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.
"no, but for a small standalone price-"
if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)
"sampo."
the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.
"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."
you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.
"either shut up or i'll make you."
you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.
approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.
the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.
he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.
every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".
his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).
your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.
he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.
"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.
you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.
"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.
"hm... that's what i thought."
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.
blade's mean when he eats you out
he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned
"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.
how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.
"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.
"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.
"attagirl."
blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.
there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.
"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.
he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.
and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.
"one more?"
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.
what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm
because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around
but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too
"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.
"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.
"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.
"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.
"does that feel good?"
"y-yeah, so good, baby."
he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.
his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.
"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.
"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.
he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.
"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.
you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.
"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.
"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.
"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.
your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it
like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL
"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.
he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.
"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.
"hi, pretty."
"hi."
"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.
"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.
"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.
"quit teasing me."
"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"
"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.
"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.
"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.
"gladly."
there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.
you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.
"you taste divine, my love."
and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.
the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.
as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.
everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.
the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.
"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"
luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.
"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"
and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.
his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.
"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.
you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.
and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.
"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"
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𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist
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aceyalonso · 4 months ago
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your brother won't like this - MAX VERSTAPPEN
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pairing : max verstappen x norris!reader kinktober day 13 - deepthroating
summary : max can't seem to escape the norris' after that terrible race in Austria. The only difference? Y/n was actually worth Max's time (and stamina)
warnings/notes : story is set during the Austrian grand prix, swearing, drinking, smut, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!) choking, slight overstimulation, praise kink, degrading kink, name-calling, squirting, creampie, dirty talk
word count : 3.4k
a/n : god i love this trope
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist
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After Lando and Max's disappointing crash in Austria, Max was fuming as he stormed into the hotel bar near the pool, his 5th-place finish feeling like a bitter defeat. As he approached the bar, he collided with someone, spilling his drink.
"Watch where you're going!" Max snapped, glaring at the person. But as he looked closer, his anger faded, replaced by surprise. Standing before him was a stunning young woman who looked remarkably like Lando.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," she apologized, her voice soft and melodic. She bent down to help clean up the spilled drink, giving Max an eyeful of her ample cleavage straining against her low-cut dress.
"Let me buy you a drink," Y/n insisted, her dark eyes meeting Max's gaze. "I should have been paying more attention. Please, allow me to make it up to you."
She gestured to the bar stool beside her. "Have a seat and let me buy you a drink. It's the least I can do."
Max hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and sat down, intrigued by this mysterious woman who seemed so familiar. As she signaled the bartender, he couldn't help but admire her figure, her curves accentuated by dress that she wore.
"I'm Y/n, by the way," she introduced herself, extending her hand. "And you are?"
"Max," he replied, shaking her soft hand. "Nice to meet you, Y/n."
As the bartender brought over their drinks, Y/n leaned in closer, her perfume tantalizing his senses. "So, Max, what brings you here tonight?" she asked with a playful smile, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm.
He sighed and took a swig of his drink, the cool liquid soothing his throat. "Just a rough day at work, you know how it is. Some asshole really got under my skin today."
Y/n nodded sympathetically, her dark eyes filled with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that. Work can be so stressful sometimes."
"What about you?" Max asked, curious about the beautiful stranger. "What brings you to Austria?"
"Oh, I'm just passing through," Y/n replied casually, sipping her own drink. "Visiting my brother actually. He's here for some kind of race or something."
Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. Seems like everyone and their brother is in town for that damn race."
As they continued to chat, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's warm personality and easygoing nature. She had a way of putting him at ease, her laughter like music to his ears.
As the night wore on, Max and Y/n continued to drink and converse, their initial tension melting away into a comfortable camaraderie. The alcohol flowed freely, and soon they were laughing and joking like old friends.
Y/n regaled Max with tales of her travels, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she described the various places she'd been. Max, in turn, shared stories from his own life, the stresses of work momentarily forgotten in the company of this captivating woman.
Their knees brushed under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through Max's body. He glanced at Y/n, noticing the way her lips curved into a coy smile as she caught his gaze. The air between them crackled with a palpable tension, a mutual attraction that was becoming harder to ignore.
Y/n leaned in closer, her hand resting lightly on Max's thigh. "You know, Max," she purred, her voice low and seductive, "I've really enjoyed talking with you tonight."
Her fingers traced lazy circles on his leg, inching higher with each pass. Max swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he met her smoldering gaze.
"I've enjoyed it too," he managed to say, his voice rough with desire.
Y/n's hand slid further up his thigh, her touch bold and unapologetic. "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private," she suggested, her lips hovering mere inches from his. "Somewhere we can... get to know each other better."
Max's breath caught in his throat, his body responding eagerly to her advances. He nodded, his eyes dark with lust as he imagined all the delicious things they could do together.
Without another word, Y/n stood and took Max's hand, leading him away from the crowded bar.
As they waited for the elevator, Max's hands found their way to Y/n's waist, pulling her close against his body. She let out a soft moan as his lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of her throat.
Y/n tilted her head back, giving Max better access to her neck as she pressed herself against him. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she lost herself in the sensation of his touch.
The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty car. Max swept Y/n inside, his mouth never leaving her skin as he backed her against the wall, his body pinning hers in place.
The doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent to its destination. But Max and Y/n barely noticed, too consumed by their growing desire for one another. Max's hands roamed her curves, squeezing and caressing as Y/n arched into his touch, desperate for more.
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The elevator reached their floor, the doors sliding open with a soft ding. Max and Y/n stumbled out, their lips locked in a passionate kiss as they made their way down the hallway to her room.
Max pushed Y/n against the wall as soon as they entered her hotel room, his lips trailing hot kisses along her shoulders. He tugged at the straps of her dress, letting them fall to the sides, exposing her smooth skin.
"You know, you never gave me your last name," he murmured between kisses, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. "It's not fair, since I gave you mine."
Y/n let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch as his hands explored her body. "Mmm, maybe I wanted to keep some mystery," she teased, her fingers tangling in his hair.
He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I think it's time you revealed all your secrets to me," he growled, his hands sliding under her dress to cup her ass.
She hesitates for a moment, moaning as his lips make contact with the skin on her neck. "Norris," she breathes out. "That's my last name."
As Max's lips trailed along Y/n's neck, leaving a path of hickeys in their wake, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Norris... as in Lando Norris's sister?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Y/n's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and guilt flashing across her face. "You know my brother?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Max chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "Know him? That asshole is the one who ruined my day," he growled, nipping at her sensitive skin. "But it looks like his sister might just make it all better."
Y/n let out a breathy moan, her head falling back as Max's lips and teeth worked their magic on her neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more of his touch.
Max led Y/n to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling her to kneel between his legs. He leaned back, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked down at her with a hungry gaze.
"I want you to make me feel better, Y/n," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want you to show me just how sorry you are for your brother's behavior."
Y/n bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire as she looked up at him. Slowly, she reached for his belt, her fingers making quick work of the buckle. She tugged his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock.
"I'm so sorry, Max," she purred, her hand wrapping around his shaft. "Let me make it up to you."
With that, she leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. Max groaned, his head falling back as he savored the sensation of her warm, wet mouth on his most sensitive flesh.
Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip. She placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin.
Max watched her through hooded eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she worked her way down his length. Her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his flesh as she took him deeper into her mouth.
"Fuck, Y/n," Max groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as she deepthroated him. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."
Y/n hummed in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him to the back of her throat with each movement.
Y/n took Max deep into her throat, her nose pressing against his pelvis as she swallowed around his cock. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, coating his shaft in a glistening sheen.
Max's hands flew to her hair, gripping the silky strands as he guided her head, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take it all like a good girl."
She moaned around his cock, the sound muffled by his thick flesh. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as her tongue swirled around the sensitive head. Her hands slid up his thighs, fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his balls.
Max looked down at Y/n, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her worship his cock. "Fuck, Norris," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "You look so pathetic like this, choking on my dick."
Y/n's eyes watered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gagged on his length. But she didn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts, determined to prove herself to him.
Max's hips rocked faster, fucking her face with abandon. "I bet your brother would be ashamed to see you like this," he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "His precious sister, nothing more than a slutty little cocksucker."
Max's eyes glinted with malicious glee as he continued to fuck Y/n's face, his grip on her hair unrelenting. "Keep this up, and maybe I'll let your brother win the damn championship," he sneered, his words laced with cruelty. "Wouldn't that be nice? To have your slutty little mouth wrapped around my cock, all for your brother's success?"
Y/n whimpered, the sound muffled by his thick shaft. Tears streamed down her face, her mascara running in dark rivulets. But she didn't resist, instead hollowing her cheeks and sucking harder, desperate to please him.
Max's hips snapped faster, his cock hitting the back of her throat with each brutal thrust. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "I might just keep you as my personal little cocksucker."
His thrusts became more erratic, his balls tightening as he neared his climax. "I'm gonna cum down your throat," he warned, his voice strained with impending release. "And you're going to swallow every last drop like a good little slut."
Y/n moaned in response, the vibrations pushing Max over the edge. With a guttural groan, he exploded in her mouth, his hot seed filling her throat. Y/n swallowed greedily, her tongue lapping at his shaft to catch every last drop.
Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a heady mix of submission and desire.
He grinned down at her, his spent cock still twitching with aftershocks of pleasure. "You did well, Norris," he praised, his thumb wiping away the stray drops of cum from her lips. "Maybe your brother will have a shot at that championship after all."
Max pulled Y/n to her feet, his hands roaming her curves possessively. "If you really want your brother to win though, you'll have to do more than just suck my dick," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.
He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her and pinning her wrists above her head. "I want this tight little pussy," he demanded, grinding his hardening cock against her clothed core. "I want to fuck you until you're screaming my name."
Y/n looked up at Max, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I don't care about my brother's career," she declared, her voice strong and unwavering. "He's his own person, and I'm mine. My pleasure is what matters to me right now, not his success on the track."
She bucked her hips against Max's, her core aching for his touch. "Fuck me because you want me, not because my brother pissed you off and you want payback," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Make me feel good, Max. Make me forget about everything except the feeling of your cock inside me."
Max captured Y/n's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he ordered, "Take that dress off. I want to see every inch of your gorgeous body."
Y/n sat up, her hands trembling with anticipation as she reached for the zipper of her dress. She pulled it down slowly, revealing the creamy skin of her back inch by inch. The dress fell away, pooling at her feet and leaving her clad in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties.
Max's eyes roamed over Y/n's body, taking in the constellation of moles that dotted her skin. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each one he encountered, his lips lingering on her sensitive flesh.
She shivered at the sensation, her body responding to his touch. She arched into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Max," she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. "Please, I need you."
Max stood up, his eyes hungrily devouring Y/n's exposed body. "Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see all of you."
Y/n complied, positioning herself on the bed as instructed. Max stepped behind her, his hands gripping her ass and spreading her cheeks apart. He pulled her panties down, exposing her glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his fingers dipping between her folds to tease her entrance. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this tight little cunt."
He thrust into Y/n with a single, powerful stroke, his thick cock splitting her open. The combination of her wetness and the leftover saliva from her earlier ministrations served as a makeshift lube, allowing him to slide in deep.
Y/n let out a sharp cry, her body struggling to accommodate his impressive size. "Slow down," she pleaded, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. "You're so fucking big."
Max paused, giving Y/n a moment to adjust to his size. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Relax, baby," he cooed, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her hips. "I'll make you feel so good, I promise."
With that, he began to move, his hips rocking against her ass in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through Y/n's body, her walls clenching around his thick shaft.
Max picked up the pace, his hips slamming against Y/n's ass with bruising force. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucked her with wild abandon.
"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he grunted, his fingers digging into the meat of her hips. "So fucking tight and wet."
Y/n could only moan in response, her body rocked forward with each powerful thrust. "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," she cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheets. "Ruin me with that big fucking cock."
Max obliged, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their moans and grunts of pleasure. Y/n's pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building with each stroke of his cock against her G-spot.
Y/n's moans grew louder, her curses echoing off the walls as Max pounded into her. He brought his hand down on her ass, the sharp slap of skin on skin punctuating his thrusts.
"Fuck, you're so loud," he growled, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can't have you alerting the whole hotel to what a dirty little slut you are."
With that, he wrapped a hand around her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp for air. Y/n's moans turned to whimpers, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm as Max continued to fuck her through it.
Max's grip on Y/n's neck tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he growled, "Shut the fuck up, you dirty little slut."
Y/n whimpered, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She tried to nod, but the lack of oxygen made it difficult. Her vision began to blur, the edges of her consciousness fading as Max continued to pound into her.
Just as she thought she might pass out, Max released his grip, allowing her to gasp for air. "Breathe," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I'm not done with you yet."
Y/n gasped for air, her lungs burning as she struggled to fill them with much-needed oxygen. Her moans mixed with her ragged breaths, creating a symphony of pleasure and desperation.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her body trembling as another orgasm crashed over her. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
Her words dissolved into a scream as she squirted all over Max's cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick shaft. The sensation pushed Max over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him like a freight train.
Max fucked Y/n through his orgasm, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself inside her. His cum flooded her pussy, so much that it began to leak out around his still-twitching cock.
Y/n whimpered, her body overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so completely. She could feel Max's seed dripping down her thighs, marking her as his.
Max collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her sweat-slicked skin. "Fuck, that was intense," he murmured, his voice hoarse with satisfaction.
He noticed Y/n's labored breathing, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He pulled back, his eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Did I push you too far?"
She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "No, I'm fine," she assured him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "It was intense, but in the best possible way."
Y/n's body went limp, her thighs quivering as she collapsed onto the bed. She cursed under her breath, her words a jumbled mix of expletives and praise for the mind-blowing sex she had just experienced.
"Fuck, that was so good," she moaned, her hand reaching down to touch her sensitive, well-fucked pussy. "I can't believe how hard you made me cum."
Max laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked down at Y/n's trembling form. "I may have gotten a bit carried away," he admitted, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "Your brother really pissed me off today, and I guess I took it out on you."
She shivered at his touch, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, if this is what happens when you're mad at him, maybe he should piss you off more often," she teased, her voice still hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure.
Max chuckled, his hand sliding up Y/n's side to cup her breast. "Careful what you wish for," he warned, his thumb brushing over her nipple. "I might just have to find more reasons to get angry with your brother."
Y/n arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips, "As long as it means I get to feel this good, I think I can live with that."
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taglist
for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii
kinktober masterlist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf
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saucingitup · 8 months ago
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Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long
June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.
Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.
The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.
From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.
And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.
Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.
I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.
People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.
They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.
This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!
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loojii · 2 months ago
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♥️ Prim and Proper ♥️ part 2
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part 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Riddle x King of Hearts oc You bet your ass I'm throwing every cliché I can think off in this shit fight me ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Story under the line~
Prim’s POV
Prim sat at a corner table in the Lady Mystic College cafeteria, quietly picking at her lunch. The chatter of the other students buzzed around her, but she kept her head down, focusing on her sandwich.
She had been avoiding Hazel, Trinity, and Opal for the past few days, though it wasn’t as if they’d noticed. She hadn’t gathered the courage to confront them outright, but she also couldn’t bring herself to sit with them anymore. It’s not like they were missing her.
Prim sighed softly, taking a small bite of her food. It was better this way. She could focus on herself, and besides, eating alone wasn’t so bad. Riddle thought so too. Without noticing a small smile reached her lips.
“OMG, hiiii!”
Prim nearly choked on her sandwich, startled by the sudden, enthusiastic voice. She looked up and found herself staring at Yina.
Yina was impossible to miss. She was tall, practically towering over everyone in their class, and had a striking presence, with her muscular build and big bouncy hair. Her hyena ears twitched slightly, and her Magicam-perfect smile seemed to light up the entire cafeteria.
Prim had always been a little intimidated by her. Yina was one of those girls who seemed effortlessly confident, the kind of person who could command attention without even trying. And on top of that, she was a Magicam model with thousands of followers.
“Uh, hi,” Prim managed, her voice a little shaky.
Yina beamed. “Why are you, like, eating alone? Is this seat taking?! Can I sit here?”
Prim blinked, completely caught off guard. “Oh, um... yeah, of course!”
Yina plopped down across from her without hesitation, setting her tray down with a flourish. “Thanks, girl! I was, like, totally not in the mood to sit with the usual crowd. They’re so boring today, you know?”
Prim nodded awkwardly, unsure how to respond.
Yina leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she studied Prim with an amused expression. “You’re in my class, right? You’re, like, so cute! I love your hair.”
Prim’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, uh, thanks,” she said softly.
“I’m Yina, by the way,” Yina said, though it wasn’t necessary, everyone in their class knew who she was. “You’re, like, Prim, right? Omg, I love that name. So adorable!”
Prim couldn’t help but smile. Yina’s energy was infectious, and she seemed so genuinely nice despite her intimidating presence. Unlike her old friends, she actually believed Yina’s compliments, she seemed so genuinous.
“So, like, what’s up?” Yina asked, casually poking at her salad with a fork. “You usually sit with those girls, right? Hazel and, like, the others?”
“Oh, um...” Prim hesitated. “I guess I’ve been sitting alone lately.”
Yina pouted dramatically. “Aw, no way. That’s, like, so sad! Eating alone is, like, totally boring. Unless you, like, want to be alone. Then I’ll leave, no problem-”
Prim quickly shook her head. “No, it’s okay! I don’t mind you sitting here.”
Yina clapped her hands together. “Yay! I hate eating alone. It’s, like, the worst.”
Prim found herself relaxing a little. Yina’s bubbly personality made it easy to talk, and before long, they were chatting about their classes and classmates.
At one point, Yina leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, like, tell me something fun! Got any tea?”
Prim tilted her head. “Tea?”
Yina waved a hand. “You know, like, gossip? Anything exciting? Omg, wait! You said you’ve been eating alone, so you ditched your friends? Don’t tell me you got no friends right now, right?”
Prim nodded, a small smile creeping onto her face. “O-oh! No, I do have a friend. But he attends Night Raven college so we can’t eat lunch together- ”
Yina gasped, her eyes widening. “Night Raven? OMG so like, a boy? Yeah you said he of course- hihi! So what’s his name? What is he like? Is he cute?”
Prim blinked, momentarily thrown off by the rapid-fire questions. “Oh, um, his name’s Riddle. He’s really smart and nice. He’s been helping me study lately.”
Yina squealed, practically bouncing in her seat. “Omg, that’s, like, so cute! Let me tell you, finding a guy that wants to help you out with boring stuff like school is, like, so rare. You’re very lucky to have a friend like that!”
Prim blinked again, not quite catching the implication. “Yeah, I’m really glad he’s my friend!”
Yina smirked knowingly. “Mmhmm, sure, just your friend. Sounds to me like you’ve got, like, a little study buddy romance brewing.”
Prim laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. He’s just helping me with potions. He’s really good at explaining things.”
“Whatever you say, girl,” Yina said with a wink, taking another bite of her salad. “But, like, you’ve got to introduce me to him someday. He sounds adorbs.”
Prim giggled, finding Yina’s enthusiasm oddly comforting. She had never expected someone like Yina to approach her, let alone be so friendly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riddle’s POV
Riddle sat at his desk, carefully organizing his notes as Prim closed her notebook with a satisfied smile. Their study session had gone smoothly, as always, and she was clearly pleased with how much progress they’d made.
“Thanks again, Riddle,” Prim said, her voice cheerful. “I always feel so much better about potions after studying with you.”
“It’s no trouble,” Riddle replied, his tone measured. “You’re an attentive student, which makes it easier.”
Prim giggled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “I try! Oh, I almost forgot- I wanted to tell you something!”
Riddle raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“I made a new friend!” she said brightly, her eyes sparkling. “Her name’s Yina, and she’s in my class. She’s super nice and really fun to talk to.”
Riddle felt an unexpected sense of relief at her words. He’d been quietly worried about Prim spending too much time alone, especially since she’d started avoiding her old group of friends. Hearing that she’d found someone who valued her lifted a weight from his chest.
“That’s good to hear,” he said with a small nod. “You deserve friends who treat you well.”
Prim smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Thanks, Riddle. I’m really glad I have you as a friend, too.”
He cleared his throat, feeling a faint warmth creep up his neck. “Of course.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, but it wasn’t long before Prim’s curiosity got the better of her.
“So, what’s next for you?” she asked, resting her chin in her hand. “Any big things coming up?”
Riddle hesitated for a moment, then replied, “There’s a dance coming up at the school. As housewarden, I have to oversee the preparations for Heartslabyul’s contributions.”
Prim’s eyes lit up. “A dance? That’s so exciting! I’ve heard about the dances at Night Raven College. Some of the girls at my school were talking about it, hoping a guy from here would ask them to go.”
Riddle adjusted his bow tie, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her enthusiastic gaze. “Yes, the dances are... a significant event,” he admitted.
Prim clasped her hands together, her voice brimming with excitement. “I bet it’s amazing. NRC is already so beautiful- add a dance, and it must look like something out of a fairytale!”
Riddle hesitated, his thoughts swirling. The way she spoke about the dance made it clear how much she’d love to see it for herself. It wouldn’t be unusual for a student to bring an outside guest, plenty of his dormmates had done so in the past. And Prim was his friend, wasn’t she?
He frowned slightly, his thoughts spiraling. Surely someone else might ask her. She was... well, adorable, wasn’t she? Though he hadn’t realized it at first, he’d come to see just how lively, kind, and pretty she truly was. Surely, another guy would notice that too?
“Has anyone asked you to go?” he asked carefully, trying to keep his tone casual.
Prim blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Then she laughed, shaking her head. “Me? No, of course not!”
Riddle’s chest tightened as he echoed her words. “Of course not?”
Prim shrugged, her expression light. “But that’s fine! I bet Yina was asked, she will probably tell me all about it! Oh, I should ask her to take photo’s too!”
Riddle pressed his lips together, her words lingering in his mind. It didn’t sit right with him how easily she rejected the idea that someone could ask her. That she couldn’t experience it by herself, something she clearly deserved, to see how beautiful the Great Hall would look, and to feel included.
Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage. “Prim,” he began, his voice quieter than usual, “would you like to attend the dance? As my plus one?”
Prim’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise, her braces on full display.
“Just as friends, of course,” Riddle added quickly, his face growing warmer. “I thought you might enjoy seeing it for yourself.”
Her surprise melted into the brightest smile he’d ever seen. “Yes! I’d love to! Thank you so much, Riddle!”
The sheer joy in her voice made his heart flutter in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He quickly turned his attention back to his notes, hoping to compose himself. “Good. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
Prim clasped her hands together, practically glowing. “This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait!”
As she continued to talk about her excitement, Riddle allowed himself a small smile. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prim’s POV
Prim twirled around in her room, grinning as she looked at the dress spread across her bed. Her mom’s old dress was everything she could’ve hoped for: the pink glitter shimmered in the soft light, the voluminous sleeves added a whimsical touch, and the exaggerated eighties silhouette made it feel like something out of a movie.
When her mother had brought it down from the attic, Prim had squealed with joy, hugging her mom tightly. “Thank you, thank you! It’s perfect!” she had exclaimed.
Her parents were always so sweet, letting her express herself however she liked. Her mom had joked, “It’s a miracle this dress survived all these years! Just make sure you don’t let it blind anyone at the dance.”
Her dad had chimed in with a chuckle, “I think it’s going to turn every head there. No one’s going to forget this look!”
Now, as she gazed at the dress, Prim felt a warm glow of happiness. This dress wasn’t just an outfit- it was a part of her mom’s history, and now it would be part of hers, too. She couldn’t wait to show Riddle.
A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. With a puzzled look she opened the door to see- Hazel, Opal, and Trinity.
“Hi, Prim!” Hazel said, her voice overly sweet.
“Uh, hi,” Prim replied, blinking in surprise.
“We need your help,” Opal said, her gaze flicking over Prim’s room. “You’re good with hair, right? Your curls are always so... wild. You must know how to tame them.”
Prim hesitated, clutching the edge of her door. She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but she couldn’t say no. “Oh, um, sure. What do you need?”
The three girls stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, chattering among themselves. It wasn’t long before their eyes landed on the dress lying on Prim’s bed.
“Oh my gosh,” Trinity said, covering her mouth as she stifled a laugh. “Is that what you’re wearing tonight? Who hates you that much?”
Prim flushed, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Huh? My mom gave it to me-”
The girls exchanged glances, their amused expressions making Prim’s chest tighten.
Hazel giggled. “Oh, honey. Never let your mom choose your dress.”
“It’s so... pink,” Opal said, her lips curling into a smirk.
“And those sleeves!” Trinity added. “Are you going to fly away?”
The three of them burst into laughter, and Prim felt her heart sink.
“We can’t let you wear that,” Hazel said, shaking her head. “Come on, we’ll fix you up.”
Before Prim could protest, they were pulling her into her chair, smoothing her curls with a hot straightener until they hung limply down her back. They dabbed shimmering makeup across her face, accentuating her features with sharp lines and bold colors. Finally, Hazel let Opal run to her room to grab a tight black dress Prim could borrow.
“Here,” Hazel said, holding it up. “You’ll look amazing in this. Trust me.”
Prim stared at the dress, feeling a lump form in her throat. “But—”
“No buts,” Hazel interrupted. “We’re doing you a favor, Prim. You’ll thank us later.”
And just like that, the pink glittery dress was forgotten, left lying crumpled on her bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prim followed Hazel, Trinity, and Opal into the grand hall of Night Raven College, her hands clutching the unfamiliar fabric of the borrowed dress. The room was breathtaking, filled with twinkling lights and elegant decorations.
But as beautiful as everything was, Prim couldn’t shake the discomfort settling in her chest. Every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored surfaces, she saw someone completely different—a polished, glammed-up version of herself that didn’t feel like her at all.
And then she spotted Riddle.
He stood near the entrance, waiting for her with his usual composed expression. But when his eyes landed on her, they widened slightly, and he straightened his posture.
“You look... very nice,” he eventually got out.
Prim hesitated, her fingers brushing against her skirt. “Do you mean that?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.
Riddle nodded, though his expression seemed thoughtful. “Of course.”
Prim gave him a small smile. “Thank you. Hazel let me borrow this dress.”
At the mention of Hazel’s name, Riddle’s expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it. “Borrowed?” he asked. “Didn’t you already have something to wear?”
Prim’s cheeks flushed. “I did, but they saw it and... well, they thought it wasn’t a good choice. It’s fine, though.”
Prim looked at everyone going in to attend the dance. Hazel and the others were quick to ditch her, surely having a great time with their dates right about now. She looked at Riddle, who was still looking at her with furrowed brows. She didn’t want to delay the night by something as silly as a dress.
Riddle frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Where is the dress you planned to wear?”
Prim hesitated. “It’s back in my room. But it’s okay, really. This dress is fine, and I don’t want to ruin the night.”
“You’re not ruining anything,” Riddle said firmly. He glanced at the dance already in full swing, then back at Prim. “Wait here.”
Before she could respond, Riddle disappeared for a moment and returned with a broom in hand.
“Come with me,” he said, holding it out to her.
Prim blinked in surprise. “What? But the dance- don’t you have to be here?”
“It can wait,” Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Let’s get your dress.”
Though still uncertain, Prim couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement as she climbed onto the broom behind him. “O-okay!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riddle’s POV
Riddle stood outside Prim’s room, his hands clasped neatly in front of him as he waited. The faint sounds of rustling fabric and soft humming drifted through the door. He took a calming breath, willing himself to be patient.
When the door finally opened, Riddle turned to face her- and felt his breath catch.
Prim stepped out, beaming with pride. Her sandals, adorned with little fabric flowers, peeked out beneath a bright pink glittery dress that seemed to shimmer with every movement. The sleeves were big and puffy, almost comically so, and the skirt flared out in exaggerated layers. Her hair, no longer straightened, had returned to its lively curls, half pulled back with a crown-like clip. Her makeup was gone, leaving her face fresh and glowing with natural cheer.
The dress was, by all conventional standards, hideous.
But Prim? She was beautiful.
Riddle’s eyes traced her from head to toe, taking in every detail- the bold color, the whimsical design, the unrestrained joy in her expression. She didn’t seem to care that her outfit clashed with the elegance of the Night Raven College dance or that others might scoff at her choice. She stood there, utterly unapologetic, her smile radiating confidence.
The way she embraced herself so fully was... admirable.
Riddle felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest. Was it jealousy? He’d spent his life meticulously crafting his image, conforming to rules and expectations. And yet, here was Prim, completely unbound by such concerns. She didn’t dress to please anyone but herself, and she was better for it.
Her fashion sense was undeniably eccentric- a strange blend of grandmotherly charm and childlike whimsy. And yet, as he watched her, Riddle found himself... liking it.
“Well?” Prim asked, tilting her head slightly. “What do you think?”
Riddle cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “It suits you,” he said sincerely. “I prefer this dress over the other one.”
Prim’s smile widened, and she clasped her hands in front of her. “Really? That means so much to me. Thank you, Riddle.”
Her words were simple, but the gratitude in her voice made his chest feel oddly warm.
“Shall we?” he asked, stepping aside to let her through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When they mounted the broom to fly back to the dance, Prim climbed on behind Riddle, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. The warmth of her touch made him momentarily stiffen, but he quickly relaxed, focusing on the path ahead.
The night air was cool, and the lights of the campus glittered in the distance as they soared through the sky.
“I really do love this dress,” Riddle said, breaking the comfortable silence.
Prim leaned her head against his back slightly, her voice soft and full of emotion. “Thank you, Riddle. And thank you for taking me back to my dorm...”
Riddle didn’t respond immediately, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Of course.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Great Hall was alive with music and laughter, its opulent decorations shimmering under the soft glow of enchanted lights. Riddle stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching as Prim twirled happily in her bright pink dress. Her curls bounced with every step, and her joy was palpable, radiating through the room like sunlight.
But the whispers reached him.
“Who let her in wearing that?”
“Did she raid a costume shop?”
“And those curls... Honestly, she looks ridiculous.”
“I feel so bad for her, omg-”
Riddle’s grip on his gloves tightened, his jaw clenching as the words filtered through the noise. He turned his head sharply, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on a group of students huddled near the refreshments table, smirking and murmuring among themselves.
Anger flared in his chest, his short temper on full display. He wanted to march over, to demand they hold their tongues, but he stopped himself. A small glance at Prim, still twirling to the music, was all it took to calm him. She was so happy, so blissfully unaware of the cruel words. He couldn’t take that away from her.
But he was also... confused.
How could they not see it? How could they fail to notice how lovely she was? Her bright happy eyes, the lively way she smiled, her curls framing her face like a golden halo. Even the dress, as unconventional as it was, suited her perfectly.
“She’s pretty,” Riddle thought, his brows furrowing. “Anyone can see that. Can’t they?”
The question lingered in his mind, unsettling him.
When Prim finally noticed him standing at the edge of the floor, she bounded over, her face glowing with excitement. “Riddle!” she said, holding out her hand. “Dance with me!”
He hesitated for a moment but relented, letting her pull him onto the floor. The music was slower now, a waltz, and he took her hand, guiding her into the proper steps.
Prim giggled when she stumbled slightly, but Riddle steadied her. “You’re doing fine,” he said, his grip tightening. 
“Thanks,” she replied, her smile never faltering.
As they danced, Riddle’s thoughts drifted to his mother. He could already hear her voice in his mind, sharp and disapproving. She would never have approved of someone like Prim- her bold, mismatched fashion, her carefree nature, her unpolished joy.
His mother valued order, refinement, and perfection. She would think Prim ridiculous.
The thought brought an ache to his chest. Just like the whispers in the hall, his mother would scold her for her dress choice. For how she styled her hair or how her shoes were not appropriate for the occasion. 
Before, he would’ve agreed with his mother, aided every word that left her lips. But now… He couldn’t disagree more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the dance slowed further, Riddle glanced at the open balcony. The night sky stretched beyond the doors, stars twinkling brightly against the darkness. He turned back to Prim.
“Would you like to step outside for a moment?” he asked.
Prim’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to!”
He guided her through the crowd and onto the balcony, where the cool night air greeted them. The music faded into the background, replaced by the soft chirping of crickets.
Prim leaned against the railing, gazing up at the stars. “It’s so beautiful out here,” she said.
Riddle stood beside her, his hands resting lightly on the railing. “It is,” he agreed. After a moment, he added, “That dress- does it mean something to you?”
Prim turned to him, her smile soft. “Yeah. It was my mom’s. She wore it to a dance when she was young, and she kept it all these years. She thought it’d be fun if I wore it, too.”
Riddle nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “It suits you,” he said quietly.
“Thanks,” Prim replied, her voice warm. “She and my dad were so excited when I told them I’d be wearing it tonight. I think they’re just happy I have a friend to go with.”
Riddle hesitated. “You told them about me?”
Prim giggled. “Of course! They wanted to know who I was going with. I told them all about you.”
He shifted slightly, his brow furrowing. “Do you think... they’d like me?”
Prim blinked, surprised by the question. “Of course they would! If I like you, then they’d like you, too!”
Riddle fell silent, her words lingering in the air.
She said it like it was a thing all parents do. He couldn’t imagine his mother ever being so accepting, so kind. No matter how hard he tried, nothing he did was ever enough for her.
“Riddle?” Prim’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
He looked at her, her expression tinged with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
He managed a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes. I’m fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prim’s POV
Prim leaned against the cool railing, gazing up at the stars with a soft smile. The night was peaceful, the faint music from the Great Hall carrying in the breeze. She glanced at Riddle, who stood beside her, his posture straight and composed as always.
“This is nice,” she said, her voice filling the quiet night. “Thanks for suggesting we come out here.”
Riddle nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It’s... refreshing. The dance can be overwhelming at times.”
Prim giggled. “I didn’t think you’d ever get overwhelmed.”
He turned to her, his lips twitching upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m not immune to it.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “You’re always so calm and collected, though. It’s impressive.”
“Not always.” Riddle said simply, though his expression softened slightly. “But you... you seem to have a way of balancing everything without trying so hard.”
Prim blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Me? I don’t think I’m very balanced at all,” she said with a laugh. “I just... do whatever feels right.”
“That’s precisely what I mean,” Riddle said, his voice quieter now. “You act so freely, without worrying about others’ opinions. It’s... admirable.”
Her cheeks warmed, and she glanced down, her fingers fiddling with the glittery fabric of her dress. “Well, I guess I’ve always just thought... life’s too short to worry about stuff like that. If you like something, why not go for it?”
Riddle’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, the starlight reflecting in his gaze. “That’s a... unique perspective,” he said.
Prim giggled again, her nerves bubbling to the surface. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing!”
“Not at all,” Riddle said quickly. “It’s... refreshing.”
Prim’s smile grew, and she turned to him, leaning slightly closer. “You know, for someone who’s so proper all the time, you’re actually really sweet.”
Riddle stiffened slightly, his cheeks tinging pink. “I- sweet isn’t the word I would use.”
“Oh, come on,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “You’re sweet. Admit it.”
Riddle’s gaze faltered for a moment, his posture straightening even further. “If you insist,” he said finally, a hint of awkwardness in his tone.
Prim giggled again, her curls bouncing. “Don’t worry. It’s a good thing.”
Riddle hesitated, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “You... have a way of making people feel at ease,” he said quietly. “Even me.”
Prim’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt her cheeks grow even warmer. “Really?”
“Yes,” Riddle replied, his voice firm but sincere.
They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them growing heavier, though neither seemed to know why.
“Riddle,” Prim said, breaking the tension, “You’re a good person.”
Riddle’s lips parted as if to respond, but he hesitated, his gaze searching hers.
Prim tilted her head. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just... I’m not accustomed to this.”
“To what?”
“To... whatever this is,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them.
Prim laughed softly, leaning closer. “I think it’s called being friends.”
“Perhaps,” Riddle said, his tone laced with something Prim couldn’t quite place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riddle’s POV
As Riddle walked Prim back to the Great Hall, her laughter still ringing softly in his ears, he found his thoughts drifting back to earlier in the week. The teasing from his dormmates, particularly Ace’s bold question, lingered in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.
“Is she your girlfriend or something?”
The word had made him bristle with indignation at the time. A girlfriend? It was preposterous! She was his friend, nothing more.
…Right?
But now, as they re-entered the Great Hall and Prim immediately brightened at the sight of the glittering decorations, Riddle found himself wondering. What did it mean to have a girlfriend? What would it entail?
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was talking about how pretty the hall looked, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. Her curls bounced with every movement, the glittery pink dress catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal.
If she were his girlfriend, would that mean spending more time with her? More moments like this—walking under the stars, sharing quiet conversations? Would it mean holding her hand?
His thoughts spiraled further, and he felt his face grow warm. What if it meant things like… like kissing?
Riddle quickly cleared his throat, straightening his posture as though he could will the thought away. It was ridiculous. He barely understood what it meant to be a friend, let alone anything beyond that. And yet...
He found himself glancing at her again, his gaze lingering on the way she smiled, so bright and genuine. The way she didn’t hold back, the way she made him feel at ease, the way she seemed to light up the room simply by being in it.
If being her friend was this fulfilling, what would it be like to be something more?
Riddle shook his head slightly, his cheeks burning. It was absurd to even think about. She probably hadn’t given the idea a single thought, and here he was, getting flustered over something so hypothetical.
And yet, the question lingered.
Would she even want someone like him? Someone so rigid, so tied to rules and propriety? She deserved someone who could match her energy, her openness, someone who could make her laugh without overthinking every word.
“Riddle?”
Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see her watching him with a curious tilt of her head.
“You okay?” she asked, her blue eyes searching his.
“Yes,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “I was just... thinking.”
Prim smiled, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and turned back to admire the hall.
Riddle exhaled softly, his thoughts still a tangle of confusion and warmth. The teasing from his dormmates had felt irritating at first, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Was it really such an absurd idea? Or was it something he was too afraid to consider?
As Prim giggled at something a passing student said, Riddle realized one thing for certain: the thought of anyone else calling her their girlfriend filled him with an uncomfortable knot of jealousy.
And that was a realization he wasn’t quite ready to face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dance was winding down, the enchanted lights dimming as the final song played softly in the background. Students milled about, some still dancing while others gathered in small groups, their laughter and chatter echoing through the hall.
Riddle stood with Prim near the entrance, her hand lightly brushing the glittery skirt of her dress as she spoke animatedly about her favorite moments from the evening. Her excitement was infectious, her blue eyes sparkling as she recounted their dance, the food, and the decorations.
“And the stars outside,” she said, grinning. “That was my favorite part. Thanks for taking me out there.”
“You seemed to enjoy it,” Riddle replied, fiddling with his own gloves.
“I did,” she said, grinning as she nodded. “It was perfect. The whole night was, really. Thank you for inviting me, Riddle.”
He looked at her, her sincerity evident in every word. For a moment, he found himself unable to respond, his mind replaying the evening, the way she had lit up when he complimented her dress, the warmth of her arms around him on the broom, and the way she had smiled at him under the stars.
“You’re welcome,” he said finally, his voice steadier than he expected.
Prim adjusted a strand of hair, her movement reluctant. “I guess it’s time for me to head back.”
Riddle nodded, though a part of him wished the night didn’t have to end. “I’ll walk you to the gate,” he offered.
Together, they made their way out of the Great Hall, the cool night air wrapping around them as they started their walk to the gate. The grounds were quieter now, the distant hum of voices fading as the other guests began to disperse.
When they reached their destination, Prim turned to him, her smile soft but bright. “I had so much fun tonight, Riddle. It was one of the best nights ever.”
“I’m glad,” he said, meeting her gaze. “You deserved to enjoy yourself.”
She looked at him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Then, to his surprise, she stepped closer, her cheeks slightly pink.
“Goodnight, Riddle,” she said softly.
Before he could respond, she leaned up and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.
Riddle froze, his breath catching as warmth spread across his face. Her lips barely lingered, but it was enough to leave his mind reeling.
When she pulled back, she was smiling, her own cheeks glowing faintly. “Thanks again for everything,” she said, her voice light and cheerful.
He managed a small nod, his voice failing him as she turned and began walking away.
“Goodnight, Prim,” he finally murmured, though she was already out of earshot.
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nerdlvr · 3 months ago
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friends?
just fluff , bsf jeno to lovers , haechan is haechan ofc, mark and renjun cameo , mentions of chenle and jaemin , touchy friends , pet names , cuddling , they don’t act like friends ofc , kissing for like 2 seconds , requested here !
"look at those two."
mark followed renjun's finger to the dance floor, you and jeno looking very friendly as your bodies swayed against each other.
"then she complains that she doesn't have a boyfriend, everyone in this party thinks they're dating! like come-"
mark held his hand up,
"wait wait wait, look."
now renjun was the one following mark's finger to the dance floor, there you were being pulled away by some mystery figure, jeno standing there dumfounded.
"oh shit."
"dude wait, wait act normal he's coming towards us."
mark turned his back to jeno, pretending like he was having some interesting conversation with renjun,
"and then i was like- oh hey jeno! didn't see you ther-"
"don't be an idiot i know you were watching us."
mark's lips formed a straight line as renjun laughed at him,
"nice one markie, always subtle."
"shut up renjun."
jeno rolled his eyes, the cup in his hand crinkling slightly under his grasp,
"how about both of you shut up?"
haechan joined the three of them, two drinks in hand,
"someones got an attitude, must be cause i just saw y/n-"
mark gestured for haechan to shut his mouth, his eyes wide as he swiped his hand across his neck in a cutting motion,
"and i will be leaving now, good day gentlemen."
haechan swayed his hips as he danced away. at least someone was in a good mood.
"can you all stop acting like that."
renjun stared into his drink, swirling it around the red cup,
"can you stop acting like you're not in love with y/n?"
renjun side eyed jeno, hesitantly waiting for him to respond. but instead jeno slumped against the kitchen counter, his hands coming up to rub roughly against his face.
"i'm not in love with her, she's- she's my best friend."
"if that's what you wanna call it dude, but renjun's my best friend and you don't see me dancing up on him-"
it was mark's turn to talk, a slight laugh in his voice as renjun made a gagging gesture,
"and i definitely don't get jealous when he's talking to other people."
jeno looked up at mark to respond when he felt a warm figure latch onto his side, and there you were, a small sleepy grin on your face. any harsh words that would've been directed to mark died in his throat as he brought his hands up to cup your face,
"ready to go home bubs?"
you nodded against his hands, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. you giggled as he blew on your face to wake you up, your eyes opening to see his soft smile,
"wake up, lets go home sleepyhead."
he let go of your face to wave his friends goodbye, giggling softly as you started to dig your face into his chest,
"we're gonna get going, you have a ride home right?"
their heads turned as a screaming haechan zoomed past them half naked, a man in a gorilla costume chasing after him. mark shook his head as he threw his thumb out to point towards where haechan had just been running,
"that's my ride! don't worry about it jen, you take care of your... friend there, me and renjun will take care of our haechan."
jeno let out a small laugh as he waved goodbye before turning to leave, not missing how mark shook his head, mouthing the words not best friends.
.
you didn't even know you had arrived home until you felt the warmth of your bed engulfing you, your puppy plushy tucked gently into your arms,
"jen?"
your voice was soft as you called out into your empty room, your bed no longer feeling as warm as it should. you sat up, arms hitting against your puffy duvet as you looked around for any sign of jeno.
he wouldn't just leave you. you didn't know why you felt so frantic as you rushed out of bed, the cool air making you shiver. your slippers quickly slid along your wood flooring as you shuffled out of your room, eyes searching around your living area.
he wouldn't just leave you. your chest tightened as you heard your bathroom door open, a worried looking jeno stepping out quickly. he rushed over to you hands immediately cupping your face to examine you,
"did you call me? is everything alright? i'm sorry i just wanted to wash up before-"
of course he wouldn’t leave you. you pushed his hands away, your arms reaching forward to pull him in by his waist. he smelled of your shampoo, warm and sweet. your voice was muffled against his chest as you let out a breath of relief,
"everything's okay, come to bed... please?"
you both walked awkwardly towards your room, your arms still tightly wrapped around him as you stood on his feet. he wobbled you both to bed, giggling as you refused to release him, your head shoved firmly against his chest,
"come on lovey, lets get into bed, i know you're tired."
you finally let go of him as you crawled into bed, a small smile on your face as you watched him get in after you. his body was warm against yours, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you against his chest.
"whats got you so smiley hm?"
you shoved your face into his shoulder hiding your growing smile,
"just happy you're here."
"would you have been happy if that other guy had brought you home?"
he bit his lip waiting for your response, real smooth jeno.
you placed your chin on his chest, a slight pout on your lips,
"no."
your response was simple, straight and clear. but for some reason the word no hung in the air, the slight shift in the room making you giggle nervously.
"i mean like- you know- just- just no."
"what if it was jaemin?"
your eyes rolled,
"no."
"chenle?"
you shook your head against his chest,
"nope."
"what about haechan?"
you stopped shaking your head to look at him, a grimace on your face,
"is that even a question?"
he laughed at your response, hands coming up to rub at your hair,
"so just me?"
"just you jen. there's no one like you."
you rubbed his chest softly. a light blush on both your cheeks as your words settled between you two.
“it’s always gonna be just us.”
us. was there an us? you were too scared to ask, scared of what an us might imply. but jeno always knew just what to say, he was good at that, even if sometimes he doubted himself,
“i only want it to be us. me and you. seeing you with someone else isn’t right.”
your blush now spread down your neck, your body radiating softly against his. his expression mimicked yours, cheeks a pretty pink as he chuckled nervously,
“yeah… just- be with me you know. don’t waste your time on other guys that don’t even know you, i’ve been here always and you- you- what are you thinking right now?”
he looked down to see you grinning up at him, your smile making his chest ache. you tried to hide your smile, ducking your head into his chest again,
“i just think- okay.”
“okay?”
his voice was a little confused maybe even a little surprised. what did you mean okay?
“just okay. this is nothing new jen, it’s always been just us, we were just too scared to put a label on it. i mean even haechan tried to show us and he’s the most-“
“haechan?”
you giggled against his chest,
“yeah, that guy that asked me to dance said that haechan promised him 20 bucks if he pulled me away from you.”
jeno brought a hand up to rub his face, groaning loudly,
“oh my god, and mark- and renjun! i can’t believe i fell for it!”
you gave his chest light pats rubbing after to soothe him,
“it’s okay jen, we all know you can’t hold in your jealousy.”
he held onto your hand, sitting up slightly,
“i was not jealous!”
you giggled as you leaned up slightly to plant a soft kiss on his cheek,
“whatever you say jen, whatever you say.”
he rolled his eyes at you unable to hold back his smile,
“give me another kiss and i’ll consider datin g you even after you left me to dance with some other guy.”
“and if i don’t?”
he pouted slightly before cupping your face, his lips spreading back into a smile,
“brat, you know i’m gonna kiss you anyways.”
only a soft mhm left your lips as he pressed his lips against yours, soft and sweet, the light taste of liquor on his tongue invading your senses.
you both parted slowly, dazed looks on your faces as you both just smiled at each other, cheeks pink and lips shiny.
you both owed haechan, big time.
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moonstruckme · 7 months ago
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hi love what about a Sirius pre relationship request where reader is super sick and he comes over to check on her and she's just kinda feeling the fever delusions and she asks him why he doesn't like? She's like I want to be ur gf ur so amazing what am I doing wrong? And just angst with fluff bc Sirius does have feelings for her
Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I’ve made this friends-with-benefits Sirius instead of them just being like platonic. Thank you for requesting!
cw: implied past sex? or basically mature themes
fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
Sirius is moderately concerned that this might qualify as breaking and entering, but he’s a lot more concerned about how you’re not taking his calls, and if you hadn’t wanted him to know where your spare key was, you should have done a better job of hiding it. 
He unearths the key. It slides into the lock welcomingly. Your apartment is dark and quiet, but it doesn’t take Sirius long to find you. Your bed looks like a tornado has hit, your sheets tangled, torn up from where they’re usually tucked underneath the end of the mattress, and one of your pillows fallen off to the side. Only the very top of your head pokes out from the mess, disheveled hair and a sliver of forehead. 
You don’t stir as he eases the covers down underneath your chin. Your face is sweet and placid, your lips pursed funnily where you’ve smushed them against your pillow. The sight of you all rumpled and sleepy melts Sirius to his core, and he says your name with more sweetness than he intends. 
Your lashes only twitch. 
Sirius knows he could nudge you awake with his hand atop your comforter, but he’s selfish. He slips it beneath to touch your shoulder. Your skin emanates a dry heat. 
“Hey,” he says, indulging in a sweep of his thumb when you start to rouse slowly. “What’s your deal, huh? What’s wrong with you?” 
Your eyes open, clearly feverish but nevertheless lovely as always. Your brow scrunches a little as you blink up at him. “Oh.” You sound more than tired, like you’ve not spoken in days. “Of course you’re here.” 
Sirius can’t help but smile. “Of course I am,” he agrees. “You think you can just dodge my calls and I won’t come knocking?” 
You sigh and pat under the covers around you until your hand emerges with your phone. “It’s dead,” you say, showing it to him. 
“You didn’t want to charge it?” 
“Charger’s all the way in the living room.” Your voice doesn’t seem to be growing any less sluggish as you wake up. Sirius finds this vaguely concerning. “I was gonna go get it in a little bit.” 
He wonders how long you’ve been telling yourself that for. You haven’t been responding to his texts or calls since last night. 
Sirius slots his palm alongside your cheek, though he already knows what he’ll feel. You close your eyes, tilting your face into the touch, and a tiny, fond twist behind his ribs makes his breath catch momentarily in his throat.
“How long have you been sick for, sweetheart?” 
You hum. “A while.” Your eyes open reluctantly. “Sorry, m’not much good for a lay right now.” 
Sirius’ hand draws back with the sting of your words. “You’re—that’s okay. I haven’t come looking for one.” 
You study him through the crush of your lashes. “Then why are you here?” 
“You weren’t answering your phone.” Granted, he had originally called to see if you were in the mood. But that cause ceased to matter when he didn’t hear from you, and when he asked around and no one in your circle had for at least a day. Then he’d just wanted to see you. “I came to check on you.” 
Your expression pinches as if his words pain you. It creates a little line on the insides of each of your brows and a sad tightening around your mouth. You look at him like this, occasionally. When there’s a room between you or when you’re high off sex, but never so openly. Never when you know he can see. 
“You’re so nice,” you say mournfully. 
Sirius’ laugh is soft with surprise. “You only think that because of the time I showed you last Friday.” 
“Don’t joke,” you say firmly. He feels his grin slip. “You always act like you’re not, but you are. You’re amazing, Sirius.” The urge to make fun of you rises in his chest, but he squashes it back down, where it settles like an ache behind his ribs. “I really wish you liked me.” 
It feels like all the air in his lungs dries up. “What?” he asks breathlessly. 
“You’re so smart,” you say, nearing a whisper, “and you are funny, but you’re also really good at lots of stuff. You’re good in general.” You seem like you’re looking at him and through him at the same time, your gaze faraway and wistful. “I know you don’t always think so, but you’re good. It makes me wish you liked me back. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong that you don’t like me.” 
Sirius feels like you’ve reached inside him and scooped all of him out. He’s nothing but a pile of guts and mush, his devotion to you in every sorry bit. He wants to tell you that he’s not half the things you say. (That you’re all of them and more.) He wants to say that you’ve never done a thing wrong in your life, or at least nothing that could matter to him, and the worst thing he ever did was letting you look at him with pain in your eyes and pretending he didn’t see. He wants you to know that he more than likes you, that he hasn’t found a word big enough for the feeling he carries around all day which aches in a way he hasn’t decided if he enjoys and throbs horribly when you’re around. And he wants to tell you all of this in a way that’s cool but sincere and makes you smile by the end. 
But when he looks at you your eyes are glossing over, all Sirius’ words tangle up in his mouth. 
“Hey, dollface,” he says, suppressing a much sweeter name and rubbing your cheek tenderly with his thumb, “stop that. Don’t get upset, please? You’re too lovely for tears.” 
The last bit comes out with a teasing bent, Sirius’ habit of shrouding affection with humor kicking in automatically. You smile like you’ve caught him again. It’s a half-hearted, flickering thing. 
“Sorry,” you say, blinking them away. One squishes out the corner of your eye, and Sirius catches it with his forefinger. “I’m being silly.” 
“You’re never silly,” he replies, then reconsiders. “Well, actually, you are. About lots of stuff, but we don’t need to talk about that right now.” Before he can stop himself, he’s bending to rest his lips on the spot where the tear started to roll down your cheek. When he draws back, his lips are warmer and taste of salt. 
Sirius swallows. “Would you be alright if I stayed here for a bit? I want to help make sure you’re okay.” 
You regard him through glassy eyes nevertheless lovely as always. “Okay,” you say. Your voice sounds so normal he almost wonders if you’ve forgotten what you’d spoken about just a few moments earlier. “That’s nice of you, thanks.” 
He fights the urge to correct you a second time. “It’s no problem,” he says instead. “We can talk about the rest when you’re feeling a bit better, yeah?” 
Your expression turns nervous. You haven’t forgotten. “Really?” you ask, voice breathless like it’s a wish you don’t expect granted. 
That unnamed feeling gives a deep, powerful throb. “Yeah, sweetheart.” Sirius rubs your cheek again, your skin soft and precious under his thumb. “I promise.” 
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bontentrio · 4 months ago
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SAFE PLACE
yunho x gn reader
summary: after a tiring day you found yourself being comforted by the warmth of your boyfriend while he played video games.
tw: fluff maaaybe some angst but not really (+ spelling mistakes probably, english is not my first language)
based on this video of yunho looking very boyfriend (i screamed very loudly and cried a little)
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the weather kind of reflected how you were feeling: grey, and on the verge of tears. the weight of your horrible day rested on your shoulders, and each step you took towards your home was more dreadful than the last. not only did your feet hurt from the new shoes you were wearing, but also your head, you had a terrible headache.
your day actually did not start as bad as it ended, you woke up in time and got dressed for work in a nice outfit. nice outfit = nice day, right? oh how wrong you were. as soon as you got to the office, you accidentally spilled your coffee cup on your nice outfit after bumping against one of the desks by accident. your white shirt immediately ruined despite trying to wipe the stain off with some wipes.
later on that day, your boss scolded you for apparently handling some documents poorly. thing is, when you asked to see said documents, you realized they weren’t even yours to begin with. so you tried telling that to your boss, and you could tell he realized his mistake but obviously did not care enough to apologize. he just sighed and left, probably on his way to scold the right person for the poor management.
on your way home, you missed the train. and on top of that it started raining slightly, but you did not have your umbrella because, surprise! you forgot it at the office. thankfully once you got on the next train, it stopped raining. the weather still looked awful though, and it seemed like it would continue raining later.
thankfully the day was over. you entered your apartment and dropped everything by the door, not bothering enough to put everything into the right place.
“i said go right! no! my right! why would i say your right when its filled with enemies, are you dumb?” you suddenly heard your boyfriend yell. “see, now we are dead and our teammates suck so they won’t be able to revive us”.
you walked towards the living room, and found yunho facing the tv with his spider man custom controller in his hands. he immediately noticed your presence, said something along the lines of “be right back, keep watch” and stood up to greet you.
“hi baby, how are you?” he asked, kissing you. “i prepared your favorite food earlier today, it’s in the fridge, just heat it up whenever you feel like it”.
you didn’t say anything in response, just hugged him tightly, trying to contain the tears from spilling out. you didn’t realize how exhausted you actually were from your horrible day, how much you needed yunho to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay.
“hey, hey y/n, you okay?” he asked, lifting up your head to face him. he brushed your cheeks with his thumbs and stared into your eyes worridly. some tears spilled out, but you couldn’t mutter a single word, just shook your head in order to say “no”. yunho didn’t need anything else, he understood you didn’t want to talk about it. at least not right now. “how about a shower first? does that sound right?” he asked, before kissing your forehead. you nodded.
he quickly went back to his place at the sofa and told his friend he needed to leave momentarily and will be back later. then he took your hand and lead you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet seat while he prepared the hot shower for you. “come here, love” he said, extending his hand for you to take. yunho proceeded to undress you, taking notice of the brown stain on your shirt in the process. once you were done, you got in the shower and noticed that the temperature of the water was perfect.
“i’ll do the laundry and wait for you in the living room” yunho said while taking your work clothes in his hands.
———
you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit better after the shower. you got dressed in your pj shorts and stole one of yunho’s many hoodies, putting it on and staring at yourself in the mirror. you noticed the big eyebags, evidence of how exhausted you were from the day and from work itself.
you found yunho back in his spot on the sofa, controller still in hand, but now speaking calmly. when he caught your eyes, he smiled and extended his hand for you to take, again. this time, you were able to smile back. “better?” he asked, and you nodded. he took your hand and brought you towards him, sitting you on his lap. you immediately wrapped your legs and arms around him, caging him and allowing your head to rest on the spot between his shoulder and neck. you inhaled his scent, and slowly felt all your worries slipping away.
yunho’s arms were around you, controller still in his hands. at some point, you weren’t quite sure when, you heard him say goodbye to his friend and that he was going to play another game solo mode. he proceeded to hold you tighter, properly this time since he left momentarily the controller besides him. “everything will be okay, you will be okay” he whispered to your ear, kissing you lightly on the side of your head.
you don’t know when, but between the soft tapping of the rain against the windows and the low humming coming from yunho, you finally drifted to sleep.
you will be okay, as long as yunho was there to kiss your tears away and be your safe place from dark days.
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endless-ineffabilities · 7 months ago
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chemical override (7)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...
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London
Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.
Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.
But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.
It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.
So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.
Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.
You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.
Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.
LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!
When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.
What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?
A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.
Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.
Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."
A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."
"I know."
"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.
"He has."
"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.
"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."
"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"
"That's doesn't mat - "
"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."
"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...
Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.
Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."
You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.
You need him too.
"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."
"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."
"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...
You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.
You love him.
She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."
"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.
You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.
"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.
He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.
"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?
How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?
"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.
He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.
Yours or his, it matters little.
It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'
Nearly. If only things were that simple.
He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.
The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.
He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.
He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.
But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.
What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?
On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.
"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.
"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."
Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."
Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.
He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."
He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.
"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.
How can you ever?
Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."
His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.
He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.
And so the fucked up cycle continues.
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Los Angeles
A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.
He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.
"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.
"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."
Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.
He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.
Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.
In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.
Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.
But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.
So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"
"M-my girlfriend?"
"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."
"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"
She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.
"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.
"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."
Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."
Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"
Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."
"Some suit?" Ewan asks.
"A lawsuit," Jenna says.
"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"
"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."
"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "
"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."
"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.
Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.
If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.
He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.
"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.
"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."
You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.
It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.
"I've got about a week and a half here still."
"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"
"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."
"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."
He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"
He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.
He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "
"Ewan - "
"I need you."
You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.
He misses you. Do you miss him too?
"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"
That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.
Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.
But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.
"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."
Ewan laughs, "I am too."
Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.
"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "
"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.
"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.
He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.
"Mitchell?" you ask.
"Yes, love?"
"I guess you missed me too much after all."
He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."
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London
Production for your film wraps in early February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.
You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.
A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.
They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.
You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.
Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.
"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."
"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.
The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.
"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."
"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.
"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"
"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."
"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.
"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."
"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."
"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.
Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.
But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.
"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."
Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"
"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.
"Hey, it's a simple question!"
"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.
"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."
You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."
Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"
"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.
It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.
Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"
Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.
"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.
"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.
"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.
And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.
Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.
Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.
You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.
Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.
Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.
"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.
"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."
"And the King."
"Consort," you finish for him.
He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"
That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.
But... you're not his.
You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."
You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.
Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"
It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.
Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.
"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.
"You better."
"I'll see you soon, Smithy."
He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."
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Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.
It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.
The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.
How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.
He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.
Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.
"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."
The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.
Like he has laid a claim on you.
Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.
His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.
There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.
Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.
Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.
Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.
Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?
Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?
Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.
That... that was his.
You are -
"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."
Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.
After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.
When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.
He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.
He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.
You okay? she mouths.
His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.
"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.
When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.
People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."
His Alyna?
Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.
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Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.
In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.
"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.
"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.
"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.
"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."
"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."
"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.
"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "
"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.
"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."
"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."
"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."
"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."
"Ewan - "
"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.
"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."
That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"
"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."
Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"
"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.
"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.
He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.
My Alyna, Matt had called you.
In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.
It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.
Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.
No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.
In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.
That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.
It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.
The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.
Under the post, reads the caption -
My Alyna.
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💌 next chapter
🎧 series mixtape
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Some notes in the margins...
In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!
I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.
As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3
848 notes · View notes
briseroyawritingsblog · 5 months ago
Text
𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔
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𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex, outdoors sex, tent sex, camping, cheating, smut with small plot and feelings, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is in her early thirties, logan is 197) . etc.
𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
dividers by @anitalenia 🐺
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you didn’t know what was problem. the whole way to your camping spot he ignored you. family and friends gathered and decided to camp out for few days. Logan seemed to hate the idea because, Charles of course wanted to go and they were about to leave for the road anyways. Lo was a friend to all of your family members and he was a good man. The longer he spent time with you and your family the longer you wanted him to stay even though you hated his awful drinking. He would drink, mostly alone. Playing with Laura, you left him alone- you wouldn’t get anything out of him. He would simply dismiss your questions– Throwing a ball to Laura she joined the rest of the kids, you observed your friends helping Logan to build the tents. He knew a lot about so many things…
After dinner, and drinks most of your family left to sleep but some of them stayed out by the fire pit roasting marshmallows. Laura and Charles slept too, Logan stayed a little further sitting by a tree watching you all by the fire holding a glass of Jim Bean whiskey. Oh he drank a lot.. your stomach squeezed when you saw him gulp on it. Your grandpa started to tell stories about mutants, and how it was back then.. so many of them passed and that made logan growl, stand up and slowly limp to his tent. You walked after him
“Hey..” you touched his wrist and he momentarily pulled it away.
“Your grandfather doesn’t know how it all ended kid.” He rumbled
“I’m sorry..” you whispered
“It’s all nice that you invited us but me and my family have to get on the road.” He was about to open the tent where Laura and Charles rested, but you stopped him.
“Don’t..” you pleaded, pulling him inside your tent.
“What are you doing?” He asked, but you pushed him to sit on the blankets and pillows switching off the lamp.
“What the fuck-” he was about to argue, when you climbed on his lap straddling him.
“Get the fuck off me kid, you don’t want this.” You ignored his excuses.
“I hate that you drink alone, and I hate how frustrated you are..” you whispered closing the tent, tracing the scars on his shoulders. His large calloused hands gripped your waist trying to push you off him but you grinded your core against his jeans. He growled low in his throat. You hated many things but that was the way your feelings for him grew.
“You deserve to relax.. you can hate me again tomorrow but not now..” you kissed his mouth tenderly until he leaned into the kiss. Your mouths tangled in soft kisses. “You don’t want this..” he breathed looking at you, it was dark.. but you could still see him from the campfire outside. “Lo..” you wrapped your arms around his neck surprisingly he didn’t push you away but leaned to kiss you again. This time he poured his want into it, you moaned softly on his lips opening your mouth for his tongue. His giant palms tracing the small of your back until he fondled your fleshy thighs. “Don’t do this princess.. you got a husband and kids out there..” he mumbled on your lips. “I don’t care.. I married young, I had my kids young.. i hate that you avoid me, hate that you ignore me” you kissed his ear sucking on his earlobe
“It’s for your own good.. I can’t stay kid..” even though you were not that young anymore, he was still three times your age. You didn’t care.. your husband didn’t make you happy anymore and when logan showed up.. your heart called his name. “Please..” you breathed “stop talking..” you kissed his mouth again and that’s all he needed to make you moan. Your heart raced the moment he undid the back of your bra taking the straps down your arms revealing your breasts. Your nipples visible through your top “Still so young..” he praised “bet you need somethin inside of you to make you feel better..” he kissed your forehead giving your breasts a gentle squeeze his thumbs rolling your hardened peaks. “You..” you smiled biting your bottom lip undoing his belt and his jeans pulling out his swollen cock. “you make me so hard, fuckin torture watchin ya with your husband being all happy” you shake your head “M’not.. not happy Lo.. make me happy” you wrapped your hand around his warm length spitting on the tip. He nearly moaned the way you stroked him– “fuck.. fuck..” he hissed all hard and sensitive the way your thumb swirled around the mushroom tip of his cock, sent pleasure straight down his spine and he bucked into your hand. “been too busy.. aches, and pains all over my body princess- didn’t have time to fuck” he breathes out cupping your pussy through your shorts and panties feeling the wet patch there. “You fuckin soaked” lickin his lower lip you nod eagerly still fisting his cock making his breathing hitch in his throat. “You deserve to be taken care of..” you stop stroking his veiny shaft getting rid of your top and bra and your shorts with panties.
Lo lied back.. you climbed on top of him pressing your mouth to his as you hovered your sensitive pussy over his cock. You sank down on him and you both moaned at that feeling– sitting up logan grabbed your waist to bounce you on his cock and your eyes rolled back in your skull. Grabbing his biceps you clung to him, moving back and forth on his cock and god he felt so good stretching you out. The size of his cock along satisfied the hunger in your belly, the bulge in your abdomen appearing every time you moved back and forth taking him all. His breathing got harsher, heaving chest and hands gripping on your thighs signalled you he was loving it. Kissing his shoulder moaning so quietly against it, he buried his face between your breasts to silence his own sounds of lust for you. “fuck.. fuck.. Ughh..” he breathed bouncing you faster on his cock, you cried out sliding your arms around his torso kneeling on either side of his hips straddling him that way so he could bounce you easier fucking you on his succulent cock. “Mmmmmm!!!” You cried holding onto him your swollen clit bumping the base of his length and your cream forming a ring, making him all wet with your essence. The slapping sounds of your skins only made you moan louder: pleasure coiling in your belly approaching your orgasm Lo found your mouth blindly kissing you hard. You took all of his moans and growls into your mouth as your tongues explored each other too. He managed to roll on top of you making you lie beneath him and take his cock that way making you lose your breath as you held his biceps you jolted with every thrust. His large hands manhandled you groping your waist and cock pounding into you faster and faster making you cum so hard that you screamed against his neck and he moaned on your ear finding his orgasm too coating your needy walls with his load. Your greedy pussy getting stuffed with his cock to the brims until the tip nestled against your cervix. “happy?” He breathed and you smiled too fucked out in haze after your lovemaking. “yes..”
-
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sungiescheotluv · 1 month ago
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can i call you tonight? ⭑.ᐟ park jisung
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pairing: park jisung x gender neutral reader
word count: 1.5k
tags/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, hidden feelings, incoherent writing of me being soft of jisung 🥹
summary: they say absence makes the heart grow fonder. in your case, your night-time calls with your long-time friend, jisung, reveal a lot more than the darkness of the sky.
notes: wow, wow, another post! wasn't expecting to post so soon, but i was writing for another project i'm working on and saw this post and said what the heck, let's give this a go! ☝🏾🤓again, this may be incoherent because i don't proofread this until later on (sorry for any errors) and because my feelings are a bit all over the place lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy and hope to see you soon! much luv <3
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A lethargic film coats your eyes, the familiar sting of exhaustion winding your eyes shut. You should go to sleep. Quit this charade and call it a night. And yet, in the darkness of your bedroom, you pat against the soft expanse of your sheets, feeling around for a phone so bright you squint when brought to eye level.
No new notifications.
You huff into your pillow, definitely not pouting. Your long-time friend, Jisung, is away, chasing his dreams with his closest friends, NCT Dream, who are currently on tour. A busy year filled to the brim with schedules make it hard to keep in touch, much less meetup, but Jisung makes the effort. Whether it's at the crack of dawn or late into night, you can always rely on a call from him, explaining his day's events and asking about yours. You work odd hours, sleep odd hours too, so in a way, despite the distance between you, things still work like they had all those years ago.
From what he last texted you, he’d be able to call you in three hours - after the concert. It's a battery in your back, lighting up from a long day at work. It’d be late for you, but it didn’t matter. You wanted to hear from him -  his muffled chuckles at your lame jokes, his endless interest in what you were up to (even if it was never as interesting) and have his deep voice lull you to sleep. It was like he was right there with you, shrouded in the lowlights of your room, holding you close and never letting go. Not oceans away, not out of your grasp and out of your mind.
Just as you’d given up on his call, your phone buzzes against your pillow, the lowtone reserved for Jisung. With a tired groan, you press Accept.
“Did I wake you?”
It’s amazing what years spent together did to you two, no need for words to convey any and all thoughts. Well, some of them anyways.
“No, I was just dozing off,” you mumble. “How was the concert?”
“Good. The energy was threw the roof, the guys and I really enjoyed ourselves,” Jisung falls into his routine, back supported by a heaped blanket with his phone against his chest. “How was your day?”
“Same old, same old,” you huff. “Any interesting signs?”
“None if you don’t tell how your day went,” he argues, and you roll your eyes.
Classical Jisung. Always attentive, always seeing right through you.
You relay your day to him, pinpointing how gorgeous the sky looked on your way back and how he would’ve loved the view.
“The picture I sent you doesn’t do it justice,” you explain.
“Getting to see it through your eyes is good enough.”
You cough, momentarily caught off guard by how much that made your heart flutter. “Anyways, the signs. We were talking about signs.”
Jisung lags a bit, an unconvinced hum coming through before he speaks. “Not any I haven’t told you about,” he hums, the drum of his fingers thumping through your phone speaker. “There was one that asked me to put my ring on their finger.”
“If you gave away that wrapped nail ring, I swear-”
“I didn’t even give it to them, I just took it off my finger and had it in the air,” he chuckles, stirring something warm in your chest. “What are you talking about?”
A wave of sheepishness washes over you, face buried into your pillow as you mumble. “It’s just…a nice ring, is all.”
“You think so? I would’ve thought you’d prefer the Chrome Hearts one.”
“It’s nice, but the nail one's better”
“Oh, I see,” he teases, all-knowing and you hope he’s none the wiser. Hiding things from each other is not your norm, but when they involved feelings that could fundamentally change the fabric of your relationship, you tried to embrace change. Maybe some hope too. That maybe he wasn’t calling you at late hours because you were available, but because he wanted to be with you as much as you did. “That’ll be the first place I visit when I get back.”
“What place?’
“The jewelry store where I got the ring,” he explains, dull fingernails tapping against the surface of his phone. It’s one of the things he does when he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, a habit you’re sure he’s totally unaware of. Regardless, it soothes the elevation in your heart rate, tingles running down your back like hot water. “Well, first stop is your place, then the store.”
“Matching rings is a bit..”
“What?” he asks, in that low tone that makes you putty in his large hands. “We’ve got matching shoes, hoodies that I had to restock because you keep stealing mine and matching necklaces. I don’t think rings are much of a stretch.”
You couldn’t argue there. Especially since you curled up in your bed in your latest steal - a simple black hoodie that is oversized and still smelt like him. You couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge how the faint scent of citrus, jasmine and him didn’t force you to count sheep. You also couldn’t bring yourself to admit the eruption of goosebumps over your skin when Jisung clasped the necklace on you, his fingers grazing your exposed skin in the process. It took everything in you not for your knees to give out right then and there.
“You’re only convincing me because I’m half asleep.”
“I see how it is. I’ll take it anyways,” he hums, a closed mouth giggle vibrating off his chest. It’s oddly intimate, being so close yet far away from him. “I wish you were here.”
Something ceases in your chest. Your heart? Your lungs? You’re unsure, but whatever it is has your eyes shooting open, a vague thump of your heart echoing through your weightless limbs. Usually, you’d be able to tread this line carefully, a tight-rope you’ve perfected to a science, but something about the darkness, the late hour makes you more vulnerable. More forthcoming.
You don’t deflect in a joke, or find some way to turn this back on him. You simply answer back. “Me too,”
You hesitate. “I missed hearing your voice.”
“Wow, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in the last five years.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“No, no - don’t go,” he chuckles, but there’s something in his voice that’s pleading. That makes you stay. “I guess, I just…that was sweet of you. Thank you.”
You turn your head, as if scorched by his loaded gaze. “Don’t mention it.”
A quietness falls between the two of you, one that doesn’t call upon ideal conversation but allows you to gather your cloud-like thoughts, to drift further into your dreamstate where in one reality, you’re able to confess your feelings and get your happy ending.
“If I fall asleep, just hang up,” you mumble, like the words escape you. “No need for an earful of my snoring.”
“It’s not that bad,” Jisung argues, and if you could, you’d roll your eyes. “It’s like white noise.”
“Are you seriously comparing my snores to white noise right now?”
“It helps me sleep, so I’d say so,” and then silence. Almost a deafening one, as if he’d realised the weight of his words and wasn’t sure what to say next. You gulped. “You know,”
“What?”
“You’re the only one I’ll talk to this late, right?’
You shift, suddenly hyperaware of every sensation inside and outside your body. “No.”
He hums, as if to say Huh. “I thought I was a bit more…obvious about things.”
That has your attention, your hand clawing just beside your lit-up phone. “Obvious about what?’
Silence again. And in all the years of your friendship - days spent indulging in sugary ice cream on sunny days playing hopscotch, running through your high school hallways to get lunch first, the prideful smile he had on your university graduation day - no silence has felt this way. Something other than comfortable, like the moment you teetered on the edge of your seat and held your breath for.
“You’re really gonna make me say it?’
And there he is, so sweet and bashful. Probably hiding his beautiful face behind his pretty hands, a downturned smile and flush against his soft skin. Oh, what you’d do to kiss the beauty mark against his cheek.
“Considering I don’t know what it is, then yes. I am.”
You have an inkling, because you’ve spent the better part of your life with him, but you’re not one for assumptions. You’d rather hear it from him.
“When I come back,” he starts, cautious yet earnest. “I’d like to take you on a…real date.”
“Platonically or?’
“There’s nothing platonic about the way I feel about you,” and you can hear it, the smile in his voice. And now, you’re the bashful one, again burying your face against bundled feathers as your cheeks burn like the sun. “What do you say?”
“That I’m glad I didn’t miss your call,” you chuckle, the leaps your heart fluttering against your chest that tickled with delight. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” you smile. “Hurry back soon.”
“I’ll be home before you know it.”
And before you know it, he's at your door, smile sheepish and ring in hand. His hands tremor ever so slightly and it melts your heart, your hands folding over his as you lead him inside, a new chapter of your lives together unfolding.
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palajae · 8 months ago
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bfb. (my best friend’s brother is the one for me!)
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PAIRING... best friend’s brother!riki x reader | GENRE... dancer! au, romance, humor, fluff, a flirty riki and down bad reader | WC... 2.1k | inspired by best friend’s brother by victorious (if you couldn’t tell already lmao)
wrote this at 2am in celebration of 1000 posts wtf 
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the first nishimura you met and befriended was actually sola. the first day you joined lead entertainment all those years ago, the bright and bubbly girl was the one who greeted you and showed you around. 
“oh, and this is my sister konon!” 
your eyes widen at the sight of the sweaty, yet still gorgeous girl coming out of the practice room. by the looks of it, you assumed she had just finished leading a class. 
immediately, the resemblance hit you. the nishimura girls were both beautiful and talented. 
konon tilts her head at you, guzzling down water. 
“so you’re the newbie.” 
you nod, “nice to meet you. i watched a bit of your class and you were incredible.”
“could say the same here.” when your eyes widen, a bit taken aback, she explains herself. 
“saw your first class earlier today. not bad, for a beginner. you could work on your facials, though.”
you raise an eyebrow, “is that just constructive criticism or an offer to teach me?” 
konon shrugs as sola giggles, “whatever you want it to be.” you both then share a smile. you instantly knew you two were going to get along well. 
for the next couple of weeks, you spent a lot of time with konon. not just dancing, but also bonding to the point you considered her your best friend. she taught you a lot more about the performance aspect of dancing, which you greatly appreciated. honestly, konon was mesmerizing both on and off the stage. 
“wanna sleepover?” konon asks after a particularly long session. “my parents probably won’t be back since they have to close up the studio, so you can come over to my place.” 
“wait a second, your parents own the company?!”
“oh y/n,” konon shakes her head sympathetically, “there’s a lot you don’t know.” 
and right she was. you had absolutely no idea that the nishimura girls had, in fact, another sibling. 
a brother. 
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freshly showered, you gasp in awe while admiring the nishimura residence. it was clean with those sleek modern vibes, and not to mention filled with countless dancing awards that you assumed came from the girls. 
as konon leads you up the stairs, she tells you to wait outside her door. “it’s a bit messy…” 
you roll your eyes, telling her that you don’t mind, but she protests nonetheless. while waiting, you explore the hall. most of the room doors were closed, but a faint sound coming from one of the rooms catches your attention. 
it sounded like, someone yelling? they had a remarkably deep voice, like they were a guy-
“y/n!” konon hisses and you jump, turning around. “what are you doing? get in here!”
finally seeing her room distracts you, as you momentarily forget about the noise coming from down the hall. 
you had stayed up rather (very) late with konon, yapping the night away. not expecting to stay over, you didn’t bring anything. at some point, you begin to shiver. “it’s kinda cold,” you whine. 
in a sleepy daze, konon goes out of the room and retunes with a random hoodie.  
she throws it at your face, in which you grunt a thanks. 
“why is it so freaking huge,” you yawn while shoving it over your head. she mutters something random while plopping onto the bed, leaving the both of you to pass out contentedly. 
the next morning, you groan as you wake up. konon was still snoring away, so you decided to quietly go downstairs and grab a glass of water. 
the whole house still seemed quiet, so you assumed her parents and sister were still sleeping as well. they knew you stayed the night, right? 
carefully grabbing a glass, you pour yourself some water and gulp it down with a satisfied sigh. turning around, you’re about to head back up when you almost bump into a body. 
your eyes fly open in surprise as your water slightly spills over you and… him?
the first thought in your head is that—
crap, this guy is ridiculously handsome. and tall. 
you gape, pointing a finger at the stranger although you know it’s rude. 
“who are you?”
he squints back, “what are you doing in my house?” 
the situation you were currently in was so unexpected that you remain speechless for a moment. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you splutter. 
he crosses his arms, studying you from head to toe before he smirks. you swallow uncomfortably, feeling a little too warm. 
“konon invited me over!” you manage to spit out, mirroring his actions by crossing your arms too. 
“sure. i guess that means you’re allowed to steal other people’s clothes as well?” 
you tilt your head in confusion. “what do you mean?”
he only chuckles, making you feel even more flustered. “answer my question!”
he takes a step closer and you force yourself to stand your ground and not take one back. “which one?” 
his voice is so deep that you shiver. then it hits you—he must’ve been the one you heard yesterday night down the hall! 
“b-both,” you mumble while looking away. just as he opens his mouth, about to answer, you hear konon’s voice sleepily calling out your name. 
“you’re up already?” she yawns as she pads down the stairs. you furrow your eyebrows, glancing from the strangely familiar tall stranger to konon, then back to him, and finally back to her. 
your mouth drops agape. 
“don’t tell me-!” 
“oh, you didn’t know riki was my brother?”
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you want to die of embarrassment. not only were you clueless about the fact that a nishimura riki did indeed exist, you were really done dirty by konon. 
how were you supposed to know that the hoodie you ‘borrowed’ actually belonged to aforementioned person? 
how did you not even know konon and sola had a brother? neither sister had ever brought him up before and you had never seen him around the company because oh, you would have remembered a face like that. 
your face burned, mortified, as you brought the washed hoodie back to konon. 
“could you return this to your…brother?”
“shouldn’t you do it yourself, considering you were the one who wore it?” she snickers as you complain endlessly.
“you gave it to me, so i thought it was yours!” you groan while rubbing a hand over your face in frustration. 
“don’t worry about it. riki is chill, especially since you guys are around the same age.” 
great. how were you going to face her unfortunately, really stupidly super cute brother?  
she tells you what room he’s practicing in, and you despise how your heart is pounding as you make your way over. 
since you hear music still playing, you decide to wait patiently outside for him to finish. you figure there was probably no harm in peeking through the windows while you waited. 
you were wrong. your mouth literally dries up at the sight in front of your eyes. 
life was unfair. not only was riki blessed with good looks, he was also an incredible dancer? obviously, you should’ve expected no less from the nishimuras. 
when the music stops, you take a deep breath and knock. to your surprise, the door almost immediately opens. 
the sight of a sweaty and breathless riki is almost too much for you to handle. 
“hi,” you say meekly. internally, you face palm. just being around him caused your brain to shut down.
“hey. enjoy the show?”
“what?” your head snaps up, flustered. 
riki laughs before opening the door and letting you in. “i was just joking.”
“oh… well, i wanted to give this back to you.”
he looks down at the bag held out to him. 
“it’s washed,” you add hastily, “thanks for letting me wear your hoodie without permission, i guess.”
“no problem. it looked better on you than me, anyway.”
oh no. your heart definitely skipped a beat. 
seeing your reaction, riki reaches over to ruffle your hair. 
“you’re cute.”
you? cute? riki? his smile? adorable? 
“y/n? are you alright? why did you come here?”
“huh? what?” you finally snap to your senses. 
you don’t even realize where you are until sola is waving a hand in front of your face. after riki’s words, you definitely spaced out. how did you even get here, about to enter the youth group’s class?
she watches you worriedly. “you were walking down the hall like a zombie. did something happen?”
your mouth opens, but you aren’t able to formulate a response. yes-but no, not really - you don’t even know yourself. 
instead, you choose to place your hands on her shoulders and sigh pitifully. “you nishimuras are going to be the death of me…”
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after that day, every encounter with the menace that is nishimura riki only makes your life harder. 
much harder in the sense that you just want to shut him up with a kiss. his nonstop flirting made you wonder if he was born like this. i mean, everyone at the studio knew he was handsome. 
girls would whisper and flirt with him whenever he stepped into the studio. and yet, he rejected their advances and seemed disinterested. riki only acted crazy, well, in front of you. 
when you tried to bring it up discreetly to konon, she simply snorted. 
“riki’s used to the attention. it doesn’t phase him anymore. he’s like a little kid. he doesn’t care—i think he’s just not interested in anyone.” 
except, riki wasn’t like that around you. he was sweet, offering you water when no one else was around. he left snacks and silly notes in your dance locker. he would make funny faces and wink at you when his sisters weren’t looking.
it almost made you delusional. like maybe he… reciprocated your feelings? 
you hated keeping all your feelings suppressed, all behind konon’s back. still, you always asked to come over to her house when you knew riki was there. 
you couldn’t get him out of your mind. your best friend, konon’s, brother. if only they weren’t related. then nishimura riki would be the one for you. 
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“i’m gonna go use the restroom.”
konon hums as you leave to go out into the hall with purposefully loud steps. you hold your breath, praying that you’ll ‘run into’ riki somehow. you knew exactly which room was his, so you could only hope he came out at the exact moment you did. 
he doesn’t. deflated, you quietly tip toe over to his room, placing an ear to the door. 
you listen, hoping to hear some noise. it’s awfully quiet, maybe he’s not in his room-
whoosh! 
the door swings open and suddenly, you gasp as you’re dragged in. riki sneakily closes the door as you’re stunned by the latest sequence of events, almost jumping out of your skin.  
how in the world did you end up in riki’s room, with him, 
alone?
“riki-“
he shushes you by pushing his finger to your lips. goosebumps appear on your arm, simply by his touch. you didn’t even realize that his other hand was still holding onto yours. 
“eavesdropping, were you?” 
he renders you speechless. you really didn’t have an excuse… 
he grins, “or were you just hoping to bump into me?”
you mumble something random, embarrassed. 
“don’t worry, i was hoping to get you alone too.” 
your eyes flick up to him, before you sigh and pull your arm out of his warm grasp. “do you really wanna know why? it’s because i can’t keep wondering.”
“what do you mean?”
“i mean this,” you gesture outwards, “i can’t keep wondering about this-us- because…”
“because?” he gazes at you with adoration evident. you squint. 
oh, he knows. at that point, you realize he‘s known. riki has known for a long time, maybe even since the beginning. 
at this point, it’s too late. nothing else to do but swallow your pride. you stand up straight, biting your lips.  
“is it wrong for me to say that, i like you? like, a lot?” 
riki says nothing for a moment, which only serves to makes you panic. if you just made a huge mistake and misread all of his signals-
“honestly, i always liked you.”
your breath hitches. he shrugs, looking almost shy himself for the first time in front of you. 
“i noticed you on your first day. i just didn’t know you grew that close to my sister.” 
suddenly, riki leans in as if he’s about to kiss you. you quickly stop him by holding onto his broad shoulders. 
you swallow, searching his eyes. 
“but what about konon?”
he seems annoyed at the mention of his sister. “what about her?”
“you’re my best friend’s brother!”
riki simply smiles cheekily while leaning in, “she doesn’t have to know.” 
when your lips meet, you can’t help but smile. it felt so right, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up by your waist. 
it seems like your best friend’s brother really was the one for you. 
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a/n ▸ you know i had to for my 1000th post since riki is so bfb coded <333  
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lucysarah-c · 9 months ago
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“Then Lauren said—”
“Stop eating my carrots!” Levi slapped her hand away from the bowl.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed, pouting at him as she remained seated on the countertop. She caressed her hand, but the pain wasn't real. “Why?” she complained, playfully pretending to be hurt.
“Because I’m trying to make myself dinner,” he replied, continuing to slice up the vegetables. He momentarily pointed with his knife toward the boiling stew on the stove. “And when I asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Levi added, pushing the chopped vegetables into the bowl.
His stern gaze was quick to return when she grabbed another carrot slice. “I’m not hungry,” she insisted with her mouth full.
Levi maintained his stoic expression, one hand resting on his hip. “Is this going to be one of those times where I ask if you want something to eat, you say you’re not hungry, and then you end up eating half of my meal?”
There was a brief, intense silence until she swallowed her food and replied, “I never do that.”
Levi simply sighed and bent to pick up an extra batch of ingredients.
“Where’s your squad?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs on the countertop. Levi kept cooking, both of them enveloped in the dim light of the almost deserted kitchen.
“No idea,” Levi replied quickly. “Until tomorrow’s morning practice at 6, they’re not my responsibility.”
His girlfriend chuckled. “I bet they’re getting drunk downtown.”
“Good for them. As long as they don’t break anything that belongs to me and they’re on time tomorrow, they can get as shit-faced as they please.”
“What if they break something in the barracks?” she insisted playfully.
“Those budget issues are Erwin’s problems,” Levi said.
She laughed softly, her laughter echoing in the empty, massive room meant to hold many more soldiers than just the two of them. “I went downtown. I met up with friends from other divisions, had lunch, went shopping, had tea, saw a theater presentation, and then had dinner. What did you do all day?”
“I did a deep cleaning of our chambers,” Levi replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Something you were obviously not going to do. I did laundry, cleaned everything—even the clothes I was wearing. So, I lounged in my boxers in my desk chair, catching up with a book and drinking tea. When it got dark, I turned on a light, swapped the tea for whiskey, and kept reading. I spent my free day reading, having zero human interactions, and not dealing with anyone’s shitty problems. Best free day I’ve had in months.”
“Does that mean you’re done with your tasks for the day?” she asked playfully, giving him a sly look despite him being engrossed in his cooking.
Levi quickly replied, “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of time to do you, girly.” The words didn’t match his uninterested tone and expression.
But it made her chuckle anyway, mostly out of embarrassment. She softly hit his arm and complained, “Levi! A cadet might hear you.”
A subtle smirk appeared on his face, but not much more. There was a brief, comfortable silence as he put the ingredients into the boiling water and stirred them around.
“You know, I want your opinion about something Juliet told me. So I want you to be honest, be yourself,” Y/N commented. Levi simply hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on his upcoming dinner. “But be nice,” she warned him.
Levi stopped stirring his meal, looked up at her, and said, “I can’t be both.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. She’s dating a new guy… and I don’t think he’s good for her.”
“Like the last ten guys,” he interrupted her, “in the last eight months?”
Levi wasn’t a social person, but he was certainly up to date with his girlfriend’s gossip.
“Hey! Are you slut-shaming my friend?”
“No, your friend can sleep with the entire male population of the walls if she pleases,” Levi said casually as he moved around the kitchen. “But she has this tendency to think each one is the love of her life, and they last two weeks.”
Y/N couldn’t deny it. She sighed loudly. “She’s… a hopeless romantic.”
“Daddy issues.”
She snorted and then chuckled. “Hey! She’s my friend!” Y/N tried to defend her, but there was no conviction in her words. “…She used to have a crush on Erwin, remember?”
“Exactly. Having a crush on Erwin is the definition of daddy issues,” Levi said with a playful smile as his girlfriend burst into laughter. “Am I wrong?”
“No, no.”
Returning to stirring before heading back to the kitchen board to cut the potatoes, Levi asked, “So?”
“Oh yes,” Y/N caught herself and continued, “Well… she’s seeing this new guy. He’s in his mid-thirties, and the way she described him made me realize he’s a fuckboy and—”
“A fuckboy?” Levi quickly snapped, looking at his girlfriend, who simply hummed back, not understanding his reaction. “God,” Levi raised his hand to press on the bridge of his nose and slightly shook his head. “Your friend really has a radar for choosing the worst dudes out there.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet!” she complained. “Let me finish!”
“There’s nothing to finish,” he said. “A fuckboy, for fuck’s sake,” Levi repeated under his breath, almost cursing at the idea.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“A fuckboy, Y/N, really?” He repeated, louder this time, as if trying to make her see reason. Not sensing her understanding, he sighed loudly. “I was a fuckboy when I was 18, maybe even into my mid 20s. Yeah, maybe I fought the MPs in the underground, smoked around, got drunk, had a bunch of casual sex, and got high with Farlan. But I was 18!”
“What does that have to do with any of this—”
Levi quickly interrupted, “18! You can be a fuckboy at 18, maybe until your mid-20s,” he said. “You can’t be a shitty fuckboy in your mid-thirties! That’s not a fuckboy, that’s an unstable, immature, stupid dude,” Levi explained as his girlfriend burst into laughter, with him continuing to curse under his breath. “At this rate, he’s having a fucking midlife crisis, not being a fuckboy.”
Her girlfriend kept laughing, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "So. What is the fucking issue? Don't tell me your shitty friend got knocked up by that idiot."
Y/N kept laughing, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to calm down. “No,” she whispered out of breath between laughs, “it’s the opposite.”
Levi raised an eyebrow silently, questioning what she meant.
“He couldn’t get it up.”
It was Levi’s turn to chuckle. “Well… you definitely can’t be a fuckboy if you can’t get it hard… that’s for sure.”
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ivybucky · 1 year ago
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First Time - b.b. x gn!reader
Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.
a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k
Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)
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Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 
Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 
The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.
“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.
Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”
Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”
He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 
Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 
He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”
The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.
“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 
Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”
With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”
He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”
You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”
Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”
Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”
You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”
The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”
Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 
“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”
Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 
He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal
Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 
Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 
The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 
Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.
Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.
Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.
To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.
John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 
“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”
You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”
He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”
“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”
You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”
____
The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 
You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.
He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.
The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 
You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”
You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 
“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 
He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”
You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”
Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”
You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”
Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”
You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”
Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”
You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 
You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”
Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol
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noyasmashing · 10 months ago
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Current fave idea is the karasuno gang meeting up after they graduate to catch up, and there's a person there none of them recognize(Sugas younger sister by like a year) and one of them (noya, tsukki, tanaka, kageyama... tsukki.. I'm bias lol) catches her eye, and suddenly, they're back at her apartment crying out for her
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OML I love when i get specific requests they r so fun to write 🙈
Sub!Tsukkishema x Fem!Reader
CW: Alcohol usage, cryin, overstimulation??, objectification, nasty (unprotected) pnv sex, chocking (mention of it at the end), kinda sadistic reader tbh, bondage, foodjob??
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The old Karasuno team was gathering at their previous haunt, the local ramen shop near their high school. It had been a while since they'd all been together, and they decided to meet up, along with some other mutual friends from back in the day. As they chatted excitedly about their lives post-graduation, reminiscing about their volleyball days, there was someone among them they couldn't quite place.
Nishinoya, ever observant, noticed a young woman sitting quietly at the edge of their group. She was sipping her ramen and listening intently to their stories, occasionally smiling or nodding along. "Hey guys," Nishinoya interrupted, "Who's our new friend here?"
They all turned to look at her. "Oh, I'm Koshi’s younger sister," she replied with a warm smile. "I heard so much about all of you from my brother. It's nice to finally meet you!"
Nishinoya's eyes widened in surprise. "Suga's sister? Wow, I didn't even know he had a sister!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah, I'm a year younger than him," she explained, her hand circling the tip of her glass, the alcohol bringing the rosiness out of her cheeks.
Tsuki gazed at the girl seated in-front of him. Truth be told he didn’t really notice her until Nishinoya had said something, but he couldn't help but be intrigued. This girl had a familiar spark about her—maybe it was her smile, or the way she listened so attentively. She seemed to share Suga's kindness and warmth.
Throughout the evening, Tsuki found himself stealing glances at her. he didn’t know what it was, maybe her easy going demeanor, or her smile when she giggled at one of Hinatas dumb jokes. He wasn’t used to looking at someone and not wanting to immediately insult them.
As the night progressed, Tsukki discovered himself engaging in more and more conversation with her. Normally not one to talk much, he was content listening to her stories from high school, her interests, and more.
They hadn’t noticed the time passing until others started saying their farewells and leaving the venue. Amidst the commotion of the crowd, Tsukki momentarily took his eyes off her, and just like that, she vanished. He anxiously scanned the dining room, navigating through the sea of people in search of her.
It was safe to say he was hooked. He wanted nothing more but to be in her presence, and he was starting to give up on that idea, as he spotted Sugawara leaving too. Then, as luck would have it, he turned his head one last time and caught her gaze, smirking up at him through her lashes.
She was tucked away towards the back of the shop near the bathrooms, chatting with Nishinoya, casually leaning against the wall.
"Bye, [name]!" Nishinoya exclaimed, before skipping away in his usual hyper manner. She smiled warmly in response, giving him a lazy wave goodbye.
As Tsukki timidly approached her, he noticed a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Were you looking for me, like a little lost puppy?" she teased, tilting her head to the side with confidence.
His cheeks burned embarrassingly red as he shook his head and muttered a quiet “fuck you." He knew she was right, but he couldn't summon the courage to defend himself properly, especially when she stood up and closed the gap between the two. He could feel the warmth of her breath, tinged with the scent of alcohol, and he could almost feel her breasts press against him.
Avoiding her gaze, he looked away, attempting to maintain his usual stoic expression.
"You're all bark and no bite," she grinned again, grabbing his face to make him meet her gaze. His glasses were perched low on his nose, and he peered at her over them, his breath catching in his throat. The only thing on his mind was how good she looked up close.
She grinned at his hesitation, “I have an uber outside, would you like to come home with me, pretty boy?”
And that’s how Tsukishima found himself in this predicament, kneeling with his very own tie binding his hands.
He grumbled in frustration as he attempted to free his hands from the tie once again. He wanted to appear irritated, not willing to admit the reason why his dick was pressing against his pants at that moment.
But, when she leaned down and planted her foot, encased in sheer stockings, against his groin, he could no longer hide it. His lower lip quivered as a whimper escaped him, his hips instinctively moving to press against her foot.
She sneered at him, increasing the pressure as she spoke, "You will take what I give you, understand?" Her previously kind and gentle demeanor was completely replaced by a more intense and commanding presence. Tears welled up in his eyes as he nodded weakly, trying to maintain his composure in the face of her dominance.
She started to glide her foot up and down the length of his pulsating erection. He could feel the sticky mess seeping into his boxers, the urge to remove them growing stronger by the second.
He couldn't help but utter a desperate "please," a plea that earned him a sadistic smile from her.
"Please what, pretty boy?" She teased, her movements becoming more deliberate against his crotch. He felt his entire body heating up as he craved more stimulation. This was unlike anything he had experienced before, and he was on the brink of making a mess in his dress pants.
He took a deep breath before nervously replying, "Can't you use a little more..." his voice trailed off, unable to meet her gaze. He could feel her seductive eyes fixed solely on him, but he couldn't summon the courage to look at her, knowing that if he did, he might climax right then and there.
"Hmm... We wouldn't want you spoiling those nice pants now, would we?" She questioned, tilting her head slightly with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
He finally mustered the courage to look up at her and replied with a shaky, "Y-yeah," his eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
“Why don’t you join me up here then?” She suggested, patting the bed where she sat, a warm invitation in her voice and smile.
He stood up shakily, his hands still bound behind his back, but before he could even take a seat, she pushed him onto his back with a forceful yet gentle motion.
“Be a good toy and let me use you a bit,” she instructed this time, her hands deftly moving towards his zipper with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
With swift movements, his aching member was now free, proudly displayed on his toned stomach. He couldn't help but let out a gasp at the sensation, feeling a rush of embarrassment as she gazed at him with interest.
"A-are you surprised?" he quipped, trying to sound confident even with a blush covering his ears. But she saw through his facade in an instant, especially when his tip was leaking pre-cum, giving away his nervous excitement like a virgin eager for his first fuck.
She sneered at his comment, biting back without hesitation, "Good toys stay quiet for their owner."
His head fell back in utter embarrassment at her sharp retort. Embarrassed at how his cock twitched she said that. Embarrassed that the second her pussy grazed his sensitive member, his hands instinctively pulled at the tie, his back arching in a desperate, pathetic display of need.
As his cock sank into her wet pussy, he let out the prettiest of moans, feeling a surge of pleasure as his eyes rolled back uncontrollably. Her hips rolled forward against him, causing his member to throb with intense arousal. He couldn't resist raising his hips, wanting to be buried as deeply inside her as possible, lost in the blissful sensation.
It didn't help that every time she raised her hips, just to aggressively slam them down, she whispered filthy things in his ears. Her words sent shivers down his spine and added a delicious layer pleasure to every sensation.
"Cummin'," he would slur, as she rode him through his body-shaking orgasm, but she never stopped. He wanted desperately to caress her soft skin, to cover his mouth to muffle the embarrassing whispers escaping him, but she would giggle at his struggles against the restraints. The sensation of her teasing laughter only added to his pleasure, driving him further into a frenzy of ecstasy as she continued to ride him with relentless abandon.
"Such a good... good toy for me," she panted between breaths, continuing to fuck herself on his raging cock. The natural curve in it, plus the sheer thickness of him, was just too perfect.
She brought two fingers to his lips and clumsily pushed them inside, his tongue swirling desperately around them, seeking distraction from the overwhelming sensations. But her fingers were gone too soon, leaving him wanting more as she pulled them away and pressed them against her sensitive clit. The sight of her pleasuring herself with the very fingers that had been inside him moments before was too much for him.
The sound of her gasps of pleasure as she pleasured herself was torture for him, even though he was still buried deep inside her. He yearned to be the one touching her, driving her wild with desire himself. The sight of her lost in her own pleasure, eliciting those intoxicating sounds from deep within her throat, fueled the fire of desire burning within him. He couldn't help but let out a string of whines, the need to touch her, to bring her to the edge overwhelming his senses.
He had likely cum at least twice, doing everything in his power to muffle his moans, even resorting to biting his lip until it bled. But she did not stop for a second, her relentless pace and intensity driving him wild with desire. The pleasure and the pain mingled together, making hot tears roll down his cheeks.
It seemed his tears only fulled her desire, as her hands made their way to his neck. “You would look so pretty with my hands around your throat.”
It became clear that this night was going to be longer than either of them had expected.
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