#I’ve forgotten how to tag my little guy :(((
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Every so often someone will come across my team fortress 2 art from like, 2017, and just go through all of it and I just have to deal with the psychic damage of reliving my high school years and seeing my old art
#ITS OKAY HAHA YOU GUYS CAN INTERACT WITH IT#It’s just like. it will happen and i will see some of my anatomy and. it hurts a little.#I used to be such a square brush gamer… CHIYOKO square brush I will never forget u#I’m now an IMG0846 and Nacho Pen gamer tho#and i guess this random marker brush? I got three main ones now. I think the only brush that has survived from then till now is fuckin#genice’s everything brush#which one of my friends said it looked like a chicken nugget ONCE and I’ve never forgotten it#ah… I wonder if the me from 2017 would be proud of me now?#I know I’m proud of my past self. even if they had no idea what was going on#I’m glad they kept going :)#it was totally worth it to get to here! now I get to meet all of you guys!#art is such a beautiful thing.. I hope my art can continue to bring many people happiness in future :)#anyways this ends my yapsesh. if anyone read all of this I’d be happy LMAO idk how many ppl read the tags#not art
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HE
#the amazing digital circus#jax tadc#jax fanart#jax the amazing digital circus#tadc fanart#tacd#i forgot how tags work dawg#Help me#I’ve forgotten the keys to my very own household tis a tragedy#But this funky man#This silly feller#Has brought me back again#I haven’t even seen the amazing digital circus yet#I just thought he looked really spiffy#Very neat#neat little guy#art#digital art#talks a lot
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ok I haven’t posted much recently but here’s a silly guy for you!!!
#sammy draws#he is sososo silly#i love him a normal amount#history repeats itself (time travel retcon)#I’ve forgotten how to tag my little guy :(((#I love him sm idk why I barely talk abt him here#little Gaylord Sneedly my beloved#my blorbo#my silly nerd guy#he is so me core that’s why he’s my favorite#PLEASE ask me shit abt him I love to infodump abt him and his silly friends from the HRI plot#I’m crazy I’m rabid#but like if you ask me stuff abt him#RAHHHH#i want to kiss you on the lips /p if you ever ask me shit abt him#I’m insane over his arc I made up RAHHHH#RAHHHHHH
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No Accounting for Taste
For the @steddie-spooktober day 11 prompt: "That is the dumbest looking jack-o-lantern I've ever seen." Rated: T | Words: 1114 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, bickering, fluff, annoying older brother behavior Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
Follows day 3: Tastes Better on You
“Wait, no, not like that.”
“Do you want to do this?”
“No, I just – like, you should make it a little pointier there and–”
“I will give you the knife, just–”
“Steve, if you’re going to stab Eddie, can I have his share of the pumpkin seeds?”
Steve and Eddie both look up from the pumpkin they’ve been arguing over to where Max has spoken from across the kitchen.
“Also, I’ll need a new ride home, if you do,” she adds, her own focus still on carving out the mouth of the pumpkin she and El are collaborating on.
“I’m not going to stab Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes. “At least, not if he makes up his mind.”
“I have made up my mind!” Eddie insists. “It’s very made up! I’m trying to impart my vision of a perfect jack-o-lantern to you, and things are getting lost in translation.”
“Uh huh.” Steve turns an unimpressed look back on the pumpkin. “You want the eyes pointier?”
“Yeah. Really make those corners sharp,” Eddie says, dragging his finger around the edges of the eyes Steve has already carved in.
“Well, I’m wielding a steak knife, but I’ll see what I can do,” Steve drawls.
“I’m using a steak knife and I’m not having problems,” Dustin pipes up from behind his pumpkin.
“Having problems keeping quiet is what you’re having,” Steve mutters, already applying himself to carving out the corners of the eyes, and Eddie snorts out a laugh.
Sharing a pumpkin had seemed like such a good idea at first. Max had offered to share with El, since El had never carved a pumpkin before, and they aren’t having issues. And at first, neither had Eddie and Steve; Eddie had dealt with the “slimy shit” and gutted the pumpkin, as promised, and then he’d pressed the handle of the knife into Steve’s hand.
“I killed it, now you’re going to carve it,” he’d insisted.
(This had been as much to include Steve as it had been to keep him from snapping at anyone who came too close to getting pumpkin innards on the kitchen floor.)
“Are you sure?” Steve had asked. “I haven’t carved a pumpkin in a long time. I don’t even know what to put on there.”
“Of course I’m sure.” Eddie had pecked a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You carve, I’ll direct. I have a vision.”
It turns out, however, that getting Steve to see his vision has been rather difficult. It has so far involved a lot of charades, references to movies Steve hasn’t seen, and one instance of attempting to use Mike as a prop (this had been short-lived and not particularly helpful). The results are… mixed.
Steve is certainly getting the eyes to a finer point, though Eddie will admit there are limitations in using a steak knife as a carving tool (he would, however, love to see Mrs. Harrington’s face if she were to learn that her nice cutlery had been used on pumpkins by a feral pack of teenage misfits). The nose needs some fine-tuning, and the mouth is… well, Steve had done his best. That one’s kind of on Eddie; he’d told Steve to make the teeth “needlelike,” and a few had come out so thin that they’d snapped right off.
But the remaining ones do look like needles!
“Okay, so, for the ears–” Eddie starts, only to be cut off when Steve’s head snaps up from his work.
“Just how complicated is this thing supposed to be?” he demands.
“We’re almost done, I swear.” Eddie tosses his hands up in surrender.
Eyeing him with suspicion, Steve is likely just about to tell Eddie how far he trusts that assurance when Mike stumbles right into their staring match.
“Hey, do you guys have the– holy shit.” He pauses, whatever it is he’d been about to ask for forgotten as he takes in an eyeful of their pumpkin. “That is the dumbest looking jack-o-lantern I’ve ever seen.”
“Okay, y’know what, Wheeler?” Steve gestures at Mike, apparently forgetting (probably?) that he’s holding a knife as he does so.
“Actually, Michael,” Eddie jumps in, subtly pushing Steve’s hand down in the process, “our jack-o-lantern is genius.”
Mike shoots him an impressively bitchy look of disbelief, so Eddie goes on.
“See, the rest of you can have your pretty, symmetrical pumpkins, carved up all nice and neat, but do you know what that’s going to attract?” Eddie looks around at the assembled teenagers without waiting for an answer. “Vandals! Nothing is more tempting on Halloween night than the prospect of smashing a perfectly carved jack-o-lantern.”
“And you know this, how?” Lucas snarks.
Eddie ignores him. “Meanwhile, mine and Steve’s masterpiece will be practically invisible. It’ll escape the night unscathed and live to see the dawn of November!”
“Because it looks like someone already kicked it in,” Mike deadpans.
“It’s called camouflage, Wheeler,” Eddie shoots back.
“D’you think Mike’s will be the first to go?” Steve leans in, stage whispering to Eddie.
“It’s a pretty tempting target,” Eddie agrees in an undertone that isn’t at all quiet. “But then, Henderson’s is pretty big…”
“Hey!” Dustin squawks, popping up from behind the pumpkin that had nearly taken both him and Steve to get from the van to the kitchen.
This is the beginning of squabble over whose pumpkin is nicest and thus most likely to be vandalized, and whether or not this is a compliment, which Eddie observes with glee.
“Steve!” El calls over the ruckus. “I am finished with the seeds.”
While Steve can’t stand the feeling of pumpkin guts on his skin, El had deiced the sensation was a delight, and so had been tasked with separating the seeds from the pulp for roasting. She’d taken to the task with single-minded zeal, only emerging to offer the occasional opinion as Max carved their pumpkin.
“That’s my cue.” Steve hands the knife to Eddie and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll let you take care of the ears.”
Eddie watches as Steve crosses through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging waving hands and piles of pumpkin chunks to reach El on the other side.
“Wow,” Steve says, eyeing the large bowl she’s nearly filled, “that is a shit-ton of seeds.”
“A shit-ton,” El agrees solemnly.
“Yep, Hopper’s going to appreciate me teaching you that one.” Steve claps his hands together. “C’mon, let’s get those rinsed, and then we’ll season them.”
Turning back to the mess that is their shared jack-o-lantern, surrounded by the din of arguing teenagers, Eddie can’t help but grin. There’s really no saving the thing, but he thinks he loves it anyway.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#the party#stranger things#steddie-spooktober#eddie & the party#steve & the party#solar wrote#eddiesteve
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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 3
one || two || four
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.
pairing: various x gn!reader [ osamu, sakusa ]
warnings: cursing, suggestive language, MDI. literally can’t be bothered to think of anything else, but feel free to let me know lol
notes: sooo i lied <333 i’ve decided to give suna his own chapter later on (srry suna lovers !!!!) i just wasn’t satisfied with how his was turning out, and it was the only roadblock delaying my progress soooo figured we’d just put a pin in his for now lol especially for those who were FROTHING for these two in particular (this for y'all ✨) hope you enjoy :)))
notes ii: nobody LOOK AT ME, this took me an embarrassingly long time lol. i’m not familiar with them, personality-wise, but i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
notes iii: this one’s got atsumu written all over it LMAOOO
tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy
“Aht-CHOO!”
The bowl of popcorn nearly flew out your lap when you shrieked bloody-murder, body in fight or flight from the abrupt sound happening moments before a jumpscare in the movie you were watching. Head on a swivel, you soon realized the culprit wasn’t a psycho-killer in a ghost mask, but your darling OSAMU with his lawnmower of a sneeze coming through your front door.
You exhaled, relieved, but scared shitless. After pausing the movie, you glared down the hall leading to the door. “Seriously? You had to do that with your entire chest?”
Osamu sniffled, then muttered. “…Y’supposed to say bless ya before scoldin’ at your sweet and thoughtful boyfriend, y’know…”
“Aw, bless you, my love. And, fuck you.”
The brunette snorted, no doubt rolling his eyes as he toed off his shoes. Coming down the hall to soon reveal his handsome face, illuminated only by the bright tv screen, Osamu held up a large plastic bag filled with something greasy and delicious as the smell traveled up your nose. He grinned smugly at you intently eyeing the bag. “Fuck me, huh?”
You immediately doubled down, waving your hands. “Waitwaitwait I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it as in…fuck you’RE so sweet and thoughtful, and I love you so much..?”
Osamu hummed, taking off his ball cap to place it on your head. Shaking it a little by the brim, he winked. “Nice save, darlin’.”
He made way for your inspace kitchen to get dinner assorted with you trailing not too far behind. Your eyes eagerly ate up the widespread of all your favorites displayed on the countertop, practically hanging off his back since there was barely any room for the both of you in the tiny space. Popcorn long forgotten, your stomach sang a symphony for some real food, Osamu saving you the trouble of eating instant noodles for dinner yet again.
And without you even having to ask him for any of it, too.
Your gaze eventually locked onto the former volleyball player, eyeing him up with a newfound hunger that he was quick to pick up on while he popped a piece of fried chicken in his mouth. Looking down at you with a raised brow he patiently waited for you to voice your thoughts, a boyish grin growing on his face as he chewed.
You blinked. He blinked back, then chuckled lightly. “We communicatin’ telepathically, or somethin’?”
“If we were, you’d know I wanna suck you dry right now.”
Osamu.exe—E R R O R.
Man straight up inhaled the little that was still in his mouth, hurling him into a fit of hacks as he turned away from the food to fight for his life at your sink. Coughing up what he could into the drain with you behind him hitting his back for support, you couldn’t stop the evil, little laugh from slipping out seeing this as a form of karma for the scare earlier. Osamu fixed you with a weak glare once he calmed down, reaching over to pinch your cheek. “A warnin’ next time, would’ya?…”
You winced, but mirth still swam in your eyes. “Your only warning would’ve been your pants around your ankles-”
“Oi, quit that.” He gently grabbed your jaw to squish up your mouth, though it didn’t repress the cheeky grin you wore. The brunette did his best to remain unfazed, but the flush across his face was evident, your words clearly effecting him. “…Jeez, at least ask me how m’day was before ya slut me out. Soundin’ like all them thirsty-ass comments floodin’ my socials all damn day.”
Osamu let go of your face to grab plates from your cabinet, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms with a raised brow. “‘m sorry…the what flooding your socials?”
He busied himself with fixing your plate, nonchalantly recalling the very incident that occurred the other day, “That dumb fuck-list or whatever, mixed up me ‘nd ‘tsumu in their little post. Had his ugly mug front ‘nd center, but had my name attached to this long-winded thread ‘bout me basically being better in the sack than him. Shit’s wild.”
“The fuck-what now?” Osamu handed over a healthy plate full of food, you absentmindedly took it but made no move to eat. He started fixing his own, acting as if he didn’t just delay your appetite with this information. “Y—…you’re joking right? There’s no way something like that exists.”
“Oh, t’s very much real. Read it with my own eyes,” he licked the spoon he used to spread sauce across his chicken. “What, ya sayin’ ya haven’t heard of it? Seriously?”
“You know I don’t care enough to keep up with the trends that go on around here. And with good reason, clearly. What’s even the purpose?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. But it’s got ‘tsumu givin’ me the silent treatment, so maybe it’s not that bad after all.”
“Pfft. He’s pissy because some random on the internet said you’re the better lay? How would they know?? You’re both happily taken, and I wish a bitch would.” You smugly declared, bringing your food to the living room.
Osamu grinned at your possessive tone, trailing behind you holding plate and soda cans in either hand. “Damn straight. But, wasn’t just some random, babe. We’re talkin’ millions.”
Had you not already gotten situated on the couch, you would’ve surely spilled food all over yourself. Jaw nearly to the floor, you blinked up at him, bewildered. “Nuh uh.”
“Yuh huh.”
“Holy shit.”
Osamu took his usual spot next to you, large frame nearly taking up most of the couch. With bellies empty, knee knocking against knee, and elbow nudging elbow, the brunette hummed contently as he soaked in his favorite atmosphere—Your voice, your warmth, you. Though too busy monologuing about the absurdity of such a thing going viral to notice his fond gaze, Osamu silently listened to every word as he began eating from his plate. Although, all that mushiness is soon pushed to the back of his mind when the next sentence fell from your lips. After you eventually found said post to see it for yourself, needless to say you had some…hot takes.
“How could someone write this and not cringe? I mean, I love you ‘samu, but a Dom? If only they knew how nervous you were our first time, it was so adorable.” You giggled, tossing some chicken into your mouth. “You are not that guy.”
Osamu’s chewing paused. Your laughter eventually died down.
You didn’t feel his stare earlier…but you were definitely feeling it now, Mr. Krabs. Suddenly, the same dread you got when anticipating a jumpscare resurfaced. A sinking pit in your stomach like a rabbit stumbling upon a fox—Cliché aside, you fucked up. And you knew it in your bones the second your eyes locked with his, void of fondness and full of hunger despite his plate being half-eaten.
He swallowed the bit in his mouth, then spoke. “Sure ‘bout that?”
You mouth moved, floundered even, but nothing would come out. And Osamu didn’t rush you either, if anything he gladly watched you struggle while he continued munching away. “I—..I-I mean..I was just saying. Because…y’know, you never…we never really-”
“Mm. Jus’ cause we usually take things slow doesn’t mean you can’t get a hole fucked into your mattress, sweetheart. Keep tryin’ ya luck, ‘nd ya just might. Finish eatin’ first, though. Ya gonna need your energy.”
SAKUSA couldn’t give a flying fuck about the list. He would literally walk away from someone mid-conversation if said topic got brought up. And don’t think that you’re the exception, either—Man parked and got out of his OWN CAR during the drive back to his place, refusing to get back in until you dropped the subject entirely.
“Omi-”
“No.”
“C’monnnn.”
“No.”
You giggled, “I won’t talk about it anymore, I promise.”
He had his back to you as you spoke through the rolled down, driver’s side window, trying to ‘pspspsps’ him back into the car like a stubborn cat. Sakusa knew he was being ridiculous, but he just couldn’t stomach anymore nonsense. Plus, there’s a bit of suspicion on his end whenever it came to talking about the accursed list—Sakusa saw it as a bad omen.
Anyone who talked about it within his circle, be it teammates or personal friends, miraculously found themselves posted up the following day like fresh meat on the market. Once he caught wind that not even taken people were spared from being thirsted over, his disdain merely amplified, as did his precaution.
“Baby, I’ll burn some sage back at your apartment to scare away the bad energy from my filthy words. Would that make you feel better?”
Sakusa huffed, looking over his shoulder to give you a good ole stank face—One you barely paid any mind to as you batted your lashes at him. He glitched. Had it not been for the mask he was wearing, you’d see the harsh flush that spread across his face. Too bad his neck was exposed, giving him away as you grinned knowingly. But, you weren’t about to distract him from the issue at hand, you temptress.
“Don’t patronize me. Besides, you didn’t say it at my apartment, you said it in the car. Would completely defeat the purpose.”
You blinked.
There was no stopping the laughing fit you fell into when his words eventually processed, borderline cackling. “I-I’ll sage the car then, how ‘bout that?”
The ravenette squinted, marching up to the car to stick his head in before pulling his mask down so you could see his heavy frown through your tearful hysterics.
“You’re laughing. You’ve doomed me to becoming targeted by perverts, and you’re laughing.”
“‘yoomi, PLEASE.” You wheezed, waving a hand at him for mercy. With a couple stuttered intakes of air, you did your best to pull it together. “Don’t you think…you’re being a little paranoid?”
Amusement colored your features when you made eye contact with the outside hitter. Sakusa rolled his, tugging his mask back on before re-entering the car. “We’ll see how funny you find it when we can’t be seen together in public anymore.”
“And why not?” You raised a brow, still giggly.
Sakusa buckled in, taking the car out of park. “Because. When I do get posted, I won’t be leaving the safety of my room until that shit gets banned.”
“Oh my god, honey, I promise. You’re worrying over nothing. If you were gonna be on the list, don’t you think you would’ve by now? I mean, c’mon, even Hinata got on it before you. Majority of your teammates did!”
“That’s exactly my point. I’m the only one left.”
The two of you continued a playful back and forth pretty much the whole drive, more so you teasing him than anything else. After a while, having had your fun, you gave it a rest much to Sakusa’s relief. “Can still burn some sage, if you want-” “You’re not funny.”
Your evening continued on as normal, him taking a shower while you busied yourself by looking for a show the two of you could binge. Although, even after the discussion from earlier had been dropped, your boyfriend’s words still echoed in the back of your mind like a mantra. ‘I’m the only one left.’
As much as you’d hate to admit, though never to his face, your over-suspicious companion had a point. Without the safety net of his more extroverted teammates being in the spotlight of rabid fans, what’s delaying the swarm of unsolicited desires now? Even with his sourtude, Sakusa was an attractive individual—The dark curls that frame his face perfectly, his piercing pools of obsidian that shred through you like paper, the beauty marks above his brow, his THIGHS. And those were just surface-level things.
Being one of the privileged few who’ve seen all layers of Sakusa, you couldn’t blame them for wanting to explore deeper into who he was beyond that cold exterior…in more ways than one. Who better to fill those burning questions than some horny randos with too much time on their hands?
But, he’s made it this far without issue, what’s there to worry about now?—*Bzzzzt*
You jolt slightly, the harsh vibration coming from the sofa table breaking you out of your thoughts. With a short glance at your phone, the lit screen revealed an incoming call from Sakusa’s cousin, Komori. You exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, reaching over to grab the device and answer it. However, as your thumb hovered over the green button, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder…why would he be calling you?
You shook your head, answering the call before your mind could wander. He probably just wanted to catch up, make small talk. A smile graced your face as you happily greeted him, “Mori! Hi, what can I do ya for-?”
“Has he seen it?? Am I too late??”
You froze, blinking widely in stunned confusion. Your silence must have been loud enough for the man to grow more anxious, calling out your name to regain your attention. “Uh…has who seen what?”
Komori exhaled, in what you could only assume was relief. “Thank God…you sound blissfully unaware. That means there’s still time. You’re at his place, right?”
You blinked, eyes looking around as if he could see you.
“Kiyoomi’s? Yeah, I am. He’s in the shower at the moment if you were trying to reach him. Is everything okay?”
Now it was him who turned silent. You waited with bated breath, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you wracked your brain for every worst case scenario…but a small part of you already had an idea.
“It’s the complete opposite, I’m afraid.”
‘Kiyoomi Sakusa. 6’2ft of ?????. An enigma. We had to take our time this one. This tall, personification of a hand sanitizer bottle may appear to be disgusted and disinterested, but once you get past those disinfectant defenses of his…Lady in the streets, but a freak in the bed. Why else would he keep so clean all the time? It’s ‘cause he’s hiding an absolute FILTHY ANIMAL behind his mask (literally and figuratively) you cannot convince me otherwise. Definitely a Hard Dom, would degrade you for making a mess all over him even though he’s the one to blame; THRIVES when you get messy for him tho. Firm believer that he’d spit in your mouth, both as punishment and a reward. He won’t make much noise, you’ll think he’s doing taxes while deep in your guts, but just watch his face; homie is EXPRESSIVE. Aftercare could go either way, but he’d probably focus more on getting the sheets changed than cleaning you up. 7/10.’
You clenched the phone in disbelief, eyes watering due to the sexual word-vomit burning them the more you read on. It didn’t even take you long to find the dreaded post you were convinced would never manifest, refreshing the page multiple times just to confirm its existence. “Shit. I really did doom him to being targeted by perverts…”
“Huh??” Komori voiced. You merely brushed it off.
“Nothing,” you sighed. Taking the conversation out on the balcony in case Sakusa overheard, you had Komori on speaker as you attempted to do damage control. “Do the others know about this? Oh God, does Atsumu?? Knowing him, he’d surely jump at the chance to tease Omi with something like this.”
“Dunno. Just found out myself, and you were the first person I thought to call.”
You looked over your shoulder, peeking inside to see if the outside hitter was roaming around. There didn’t appear to be any movement, but there’s no doubt he finished showering by now.
Exhaling, you began sifting through your contacts. “We need to do whatever it takes to make sure he never finds out about the post. I’ll text everyone I know to help flag it down, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take before-”
“Who’re you talking to?”
Startled, phone nearly tossed off the balcony, you turned toward the sudden appearance of your freshly washed boyfriend, towel around his neck and adorned in lounge wear. Komori held his breath, as if he also were caught in the act even though he could easily escape with a mere press of a button. “Um…your cousin.”
“Okay, but…why’d you come out here? You wouldn’t have disturbed me if you took the call inside.” Sakusa raised a brow at your stiff posture, perplexed but concerned. “Something the matter?”
“No!” You winced at your own volume. His eyes widened slightly, making you nervously chuckle. Clearing your throat, you attempted to play it cool. “No, uh…just wanted to get some air while catching up with Komori, that’s all. W-why d’you ask?”
Sakusa squinted at you. “You’re jumpy.”
“J-Jumpy? Me? Uh.. that’s because…” Searching your brain for an excuse, luckily Komori had your back with his quick thinking.
“B-Because! We’re talking about the list! And t-they figured you wouldn’t wanna hear us, so-” SLAM!
Before he could even get the rest of the explanation out, Sakusa had already closed the sliding door. You and Komori shared a sigh of relief. You watched Sakusa’s back retreat into the living room as he sat on the couch, flickering around for something to put on to pass the time.
Just as suspected…still paranoid.
“That was close…”
“Super close. Think he bought it?”
You groaned, hesitant to take your eyes off him. “Won’t matter if he decides to check his phone at some point…”
It didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight, hopefully charging in another room. But, there was no point in wasting time worrying about that. You had some flagging to do. And as long as he had no reason to look at it, you’d be fine.
Sakusa, now bored with you occupied by something else, couldn’t help but to watch you longingly from the couch. You were speaking so animatedly, using your free hand to gesture, pacing back and forth. He frowned—How can that stupid list be more important than snuggling up with him? Yet another reason to hate it.
Exhaling through his nose he leaned back on the sofa, remote in hand as he looked for something to help pass the time. However, before he could get very far in his search, his phone rings.
Confused, he reached into his pocket. Instantly, his mood went from neutral to shriveled when he read the caller ID—Miya.
He had half a mind to ignore it, but knowing Atsumu he’d probably just keep calling until the inevitable happened with him turning up on his doorstep. Sakusa gave an annoyed huff, reluctantly answering the phone.
“Better have a good reason to be calling me this late, idiot.”
“Oh ho ho. Believe me, Omi-Omi. You’ll wanna see this.”
Back on the balcony, after the sixth time flagging the post for misinformation and harassment, you suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere that wasn’t there moments before. Halting your frantic thumbs, you slowly looked up from the screen as a cold chill ran up your spine; something didn’t feel right in the force.
You weren’t sure what made you turn back to look inside the room, but the moment you did…it was like the world had gone into slow motion—Komori’s voice faded into the background as he called out your name, drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding through your ribs at the sight of Sakusa on his phone, face contorted into what could only be described as pure humiliation as he stared into the endless abyss while on his knees.
Probably should’ve burned that sage when you had the chance.
© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#‼️PT. 3‼️#*posts it and runs*#hq#hq scenarios#hq smut#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu smut#hq osamu#hq sakusa#the fuck-it list
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Warm (Jey Uso/OC)
An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.
PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.
A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!
Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.
Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.
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"Hey girl, got a sec?"
Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"
"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."
"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."
"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"
"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."
Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.
Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.
"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"
"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.
"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."
She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.
"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.
"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.
"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."
Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"
"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"
"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.
"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.
His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."
"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."
"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?
Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"
"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"
"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.
"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.
Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.
She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"
"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.
"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.
Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."
She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.
As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.
"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.
"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.
She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"
"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"
Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.
"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.
Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."
He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.
"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.
"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.
Being here is a bad idea.
"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.
"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.
"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"
He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."
Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."
"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.
"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."
"And you know this, how?"
Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.
"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.
And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.
"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.
"What roster?"
Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."
"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.
"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."
The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."
The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.
But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.
"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"
Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.
The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.
Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."
"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.
"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."
"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.
"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.
"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.
"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.
Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.
"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.
"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.
"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"
Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.
Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.
The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.
The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.
"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.
"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."
His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.
Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.
"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.
"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.
They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.
"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.
"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."
"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."
She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.
After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.
Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.
Fuck.
"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.
Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"
He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.
"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.
Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.
Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.
Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.
Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.
She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.
Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.
Good point.
But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.
'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.
With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.
She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.
"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.
"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.
Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.
She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.
Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.
"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"
"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.
"Fuck, Malia..."
She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.
"Mmmph..."
"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."
"Joshua...Daddy..."
"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.
"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.
"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.
"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"
Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.
"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.
"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."
Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.
Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.
Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.
"What?" she pressed.
Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.
"I love you."
She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.
"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.
"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."
"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.
"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."
There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.
"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.
"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.
Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.
"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.
"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.
"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.
"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.
"Fuck, Joshua..."
"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.
"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.
The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.
Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.
The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.
"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.
Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."
Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.
"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.
"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."
Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.
Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."
"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.
Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.
"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.
Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.
"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"
Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.
"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."
And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.
THE END
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Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader
Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.
Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink
He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.
Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.
He was angry.
He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.
Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.
He recognized you. Why?
He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.
Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.
He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.
You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.
He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.
He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.
Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.
It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.
He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.
“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.
“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.
“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.
“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”
He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”
You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.
You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.
“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”
“To have a good time.”
“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”
The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.
“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.
“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”
“It’s one I play often.”
“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”
Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.
He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.
Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.
“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.
“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”
“I am not—“
“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”
For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.
He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.
He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.
He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.
He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.
He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.
He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.
He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.
“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”
“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”
“Contracted?”
“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”
You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.
“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”
“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”
He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“
“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”
You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.
His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.
You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.
“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.
He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.
The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.
Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.
“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”
“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”
“True, but—“
You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.
“Oh, fuck.”
“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”
“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”
“I could be.”
You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.
You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”
You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.
You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.
He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.
He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.
You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.
“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.
“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”
You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”
He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.
You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.
“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”
“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.
Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.
“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”
You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.
“Good,” he choked out.
You hummed against his skin.
He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.
You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.
“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.
A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.
He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.
He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.
You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.
“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”
“Oh fuck.”
You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”
His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”
“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”
You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.
You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.
You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.
Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.
He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.
Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.
He could cum from just this alone.
However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.
“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”
The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.
He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.
You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.
You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.
Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.
You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.
“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.
His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.
When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.
He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?
God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.
“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”
“Fuck, please don’t.”
“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”
That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.
“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.
You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.
You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”
“Fuck.”
He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.
He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.
You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.
The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.
A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.
You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.
“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”
You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”
He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.
He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.
“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.
Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.
He rolled your clit between two knuckles.
“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”
He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.
He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.
Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.
“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.
He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?
“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.
“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.
“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.
“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.
He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”
“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.
A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.
That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.
The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:
I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction
You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention
I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be
He’s down on his knees begging me with please
Better than any of his fantasies
Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction
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The Fan | Jensen x Reader | Oneshot
Summary: Y/N has an unhealthy obsession with a man with a filthy mouth and an oral fixation he’s hell bent on ruining her life with.
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Tags: audio porn, porn AU, dirty talking, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, oral fixation, oral sex galore, use of sex toy, masturbation, public masturbation, Jensen has a filthy filthy mouth in this one, it might make you feral be warned…
WC: ± 4K
A/Ns: I shouldn’t be trusted to write porn when I’m feeling feral because this is absolute filth and I just wanna thank Laura for commissioning it and sending me further down my crazed rabbit hole. <3
Want your own commission? Find out more here!
Jensen Ackles Masterlist
“Oh fuck, baby girl, you take Daddy’s cock so fucking well in that tight little cunt, don’t you?” he coos as your whole body starts to break out into a light sweat. “Best damn pussy I’ve ever fucking had, sweetheart.”
You whine, your back arching off the bed, your head fuzzy with your impending orgasm as your eyes flutter closed and you try to stave it off just a little while longer.
“Look at you, so fucking perfect, you were made for me, made for my cock inside you. Daddy’s perfect little slut,” he growls, gasping for breath at the end of his sentence, moaning deep from his chest. “Tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it.”
“I’m your perfect little whore, Daddy,” you whine out, your fingers working your clit to the very edge of sweet release.
“That’s fucking right you are, baby, feel so fucking good on my cock, fuck, making Daddy wanna fucking cum. Do you want that? Hm? Do you want Daddy’s cum deep in that pussy? Maybe I should put your panties back on you and send you out. Let you walk around the store with my cum dripping down your thighs. Oh you like the fucking sound of that, don’t you?” he chuckles darkly, and you gasp for air, the feeling of the cock pistoning in and out of you almost too much to bear anymore.
“You’re not going to cum again are you?” he asks. “You know how I feel about you cumming when my mouth isn’t down there to taste it. Do you need my tongue in that cunt again, baby girl? Or are you still craving Daddy’s cock? Look at you, so fucking desperate you don’t even know what you want anymore, you just want to be used, don’t you? You just want Daddy to use that fucking cunt over and over until I’m through with it. I’ve fucking got you, baby girl, you’re mine and everyone fucking knows it. I’ve marked you up good, you wanna see your skin, fucking covered in my claim.”
You can’t take anymore, and you cum hard, screaming out in pure ecstasy as your climax washes over every inch of you, and you’re left gasping for air, squirming on the edge of over-stimulation as the cock continues to piston in and out of you at the steady pace you’d set it at.
Your eyes flutter open and you’re brought back to the room, your earbud falling out, letting the natural ambience of your bedroom fill your eyes, the very faint sound of the actor’s voice still bleeding through the forgotten earpiece. Your body is still trembling, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you as you finally reach for the dial beside you and slow the machine down until it’s come to a stop, and you carefully remove the toy from inside you and whimper at the loss of contact, even if you are thoroughly done. You reach for your phone to pause the audio, realising there’s still ten minutes left. You never can make it to the end of one of his audios. That man is far too good at what he does, and it’s a crying shame he doesn’t do videos, though you realise that audio gets you off far better than visual does nowadays. You don’t even think you’d care what the guy looks like, if he can make you cum that hard and that many times with just his words, he could look however he wants and you’d still fuck him.
Somehow, the guy seems to be all your biggest fantasies wrapped up in one dirty mouthed human, and you’re actually starting to worry about your real dating life, given you’re never going to find a guy that will ever come close to your favourite audio actor, you’re sure of it. Still, it doesn’t stop you from trying, even if your nights do end like tonight; alone and getting yourself off with your best investments yet; your fuck machine and Patreon subscription to ‘Dean Winchester’. You hadn’t even needed a machine before Dean, and you actually had more real life sex with real life men, but over time you ended up settling for mediocre one night stands less and less, rathering going home to Dean, instead. You know your obsession is borderline unhealthy at this stage, but if the guy would stop putting out the best audios you’ve ever heard, then maybe you’d stand a chance.
*
Work is so mind-numbingly boring, you find yourself watching the clock on the wall and praying that the last twenty minutes would hurry up, so you can get out of the office for the weekend. With the weekend upcoming, you don’t have time to start a new project, but you finished your last one two hours ago, and have been desperately trying to seem busy for your boss’s sake since then. You sigh and twist yourself left to right in your office chair, and practically leap at your phone the second it goes off next to you. Finally, something to do.
You’re quick to glance around you when you realise that the notification is from Patreon, and you open it cautiously to see Dean has posted a new audio. It’s rare for him to post something mid afternoon on a Friday, and you read the title and the audio information, eager to find out what your Friday night is going to entail.
Daddy can’t get enough of eating that sweet pussy (with toys)
Contains: Excessive oral sex, daddy kink, use of toys, praise, degradation, slight humiliation, mocking for multiple orgasms, soft dom, aftercare
You look around the office, feeling your pussy getting uncomfortably wet already, and rub your thighs together, reaching into your purse and grabbing your headphones, before quickly making your way towards the bathroom. You would normally at least try to wait the extra hour, and for the comfort of your own home, but this one sounds too good to wait. You just want a little glimpse; at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lock yourself into a bathroom stall and eagerly put an earbud in, making sure your phone is definitely connected to it before you turn the volume up a little.
“Hey, baby girl,” Dean hums through the headphone, and instantly the wetness doubles.
You shift uncomfortably in your heels, and take a seat on the closed toilet lid, hitching your dress up enough to get to your soaked panties. You can just have a little play, it’s not like you’re busy, and no one will know what you’re doing in here.
“Have you missed me? Aw, I can tell,” he coos, “have you been waiting for me all day? I’ve had a long week, and I was thinking I could use some stress relief,” he explains. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left you naked in bed this morning, been thinking about that sweet little pussy, about how good you taste. My cock has been hard all fucking day just thinking about tasting you when I got home.”
You try your best not to moan out loud, your fingers now pulling the ruined material of your panties to one side as you take a shuddered breath in and start to tease your swollen clit.
“You don’t mind if I help myself, do you?” he asks, and then a low hum rumbles through him. “Fuck, let me take those panties off, wanna see that dripping little pussy properly. It’s gonna taste so fucking good, you always taste so fucking good, you’ve got Daddy addicted, d’y’know that?”
You rush to remove your panties over your heels, wanting to keep up with the fantasy now playing in your mind’s eye, and you quickly stuff them into your blazer pocket.
“Don’t worry about making dinner, I’ve got enough to feast on right here,” he chuckles lowly, and then the sound of his lips smacking over something fills the quiet, and he moans under his breath. “Tastes fucking good, baby girl,” he praises. “That pussy was made to be eaten, and look at it, practically dripping for me, such a naughty little slut, hm? You want a finger inside you?”
Instantly you slide one finger inside your warm, wet cunt, and your eyes roll as you throw your head back.
“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he laughs, “then why don’t you use the dildo I got you? It’s right here, I’ve got it, let me see if I can make it fit.” The sound of vibrations accompany Dean’s hums of approval, and you wish with everything in you that you were home right now, where you could reach for your own vibrator and slide it inside you like Dean’s doing in your fantasy right now. “Fuck, baby girl, you take it so well, does that feel good? It’ll feel better when my tongue is back on that clit.”
“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath, pushing a second finger inside you in a desperate attempt to mimic the toy you’re imagining.
“Don’t worry about me, baby, I’ve had a cockring wrapped around my cock all day, I’m gonna be fucking you for hours yet. Now you just lie back and let me take care of that sweet little cunt.”
The bathroom door opens outside of the stall, and you jump to remove your fingers, even though whoever has entered won’t see what you’re doing, you still don’t want to get caught out somehow. The obscene noises of Dean ‘eating you out’ are still playing into your ear, and you rush to pause the audio in an attempt to calm yourself down a little, hearing the clicking of heels on tile as someone enters the stall next to you.
“Y/N?” you hear Amber call out.
“Yeah?” you call back, your voice shaky and not trustworthy, right now.
“You coming to the bar with us?” Amber asks.
You stand up and flush the toilet to complete your facade, heading out of the stall and quickly beginning to wash your own juices off of your fingers before Amber somehow notices.
“Not tonight,” you insist, your mind very much on the remaining twenty three minutes of Dean’s new audio, and the date with your machine you’ve found yourself with suddenly.
“C’mon, you’ve not been out in forever, plus, Sascha insists that this new bar has the hottest guys,” Amber explains as she also exits her stall and stands at the sink beside you, washing her own hands.
“I gave up on men a long time ago,” you remind Amber with a chuckle.
“Oh c’mon, I’m all for silicone friends, but you’ve gotta get a real dick at least once in a while, and girl for you, it’s been a while.” You laugh at her bluntness and shake your head. “You’re coming, even if I have to pay for your drinks all night,” Amber insists.
You sigh and roll your eyes, before nodding reluctantly, guessing one drink won’t hurt if it gets Amber off your back.
“Great,” Amber beams, reaching forward to undo the top button of your dress so your cleavage is far more on show than it was before. “There, let’s go.”
*
One drink has somehow turned into three, because every time you say you might leave, Amber is quick to buy you another cocktail, and you feel bad wasting her money by not drinking it first. You’re hyper aware of the fact your panties are still stuffed into your blazer pocket, and your pussy is completely bare and exposed under your dress, and the only thing you can fully focus on is the remainder of Dean’s audio you want to listen to. You really do have a problem, apparently.
By the fourth drink, you offer to pay, feeling bad that Amber is footing your bill all night, and you guess you owe her one drink before you finally go home to your machine. You stand at the bar and shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you wait to be served, your mind running wild with all the ways Dean is going to fuck you tonight, and when the barman finally stands in front of you, you realise you’ve forgotten what Amber wanted. You guess your way through a list of a few different cocktails, figuring one of the girls will drink them even if Amber doesn’t, and as the barman moves away to make your long order, you hear a scoff beside you.
You turn your head to look at the man, and are kind of taken for a moment because he’s pretty attractive. Sascha was right, the men at this place really are better looking than the rest of the bars around town. Maybe they have some weird lighting, or something.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs easily, and his voice shoots straight to your core. Jesus, has it really been that long since a hot guy has talked directly to you? “It’s just I’ve been stood here for over five minutes, and that bar man is only serving the hot girls,” he explains.
Your brain takes a second to process what he’s saying, and then you scoff and shake your head.
“Clearly not, he just served me,” you counter.
“I stand by what I said,” the stranger insists, after his green eyes have raked up and down your body a couple of times. Is this guy actually flirting with you? You find yourself staring for a moment. There’s something very familiar about him, but you’re fairly sure you’d remember ever meeting a guy this attractive.
“Do I know you?” you ask him, frowning.
His green eyes light up and he laughs softly, shaking his head.
“Urm… don’t think so,” he finally offers, shaking his head. But his hesitance only confuses you more.
“Are you sure? I swear I know you somehow,” you insist.
The guy begins to blush, and he clears his throat before looking around himself.
“Well, what if I said my name is… Dean,” he slowly offers.
Your eyes widen immediately, and you’re not sure if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kiss the man. His voice that’s what you know, that’s what’s so familiar, and that’s why you’re having this kind of reaction to just talking to some guy. So you’re not that desperate, after all… or maybe you are, depending how you look at it. You would’ve never placed him as Dean Winchester, no matter how intimately you know his voice, because you never would’ve actually expected him to be more attractive than the picture you’d painted in your head. And you never would’ve expected to bump into him at a bar in town of all places.
But then the realisation hits you fully. If this guy is Dean Winchester then he knows that you listen to his stuff, and he knows that you listen enough to recoginise him.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, your cheeks burning. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed, I’m so sorry,” you fumble to apologise, but Dean just laughs and shakes his head.
“Why are you sorry? I love meeting fans.”
The word fan only makes your skin crawl more, he’s going to think you’re some psycho, some desperate woman that needs audio porn to get her kicks.
“Oh god,” you groan, now feeling your skin crawling in shame.
“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, really,” he reassures you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. “Honestly, I’m flattered a girl like you listens to me.”
“Oh sure,” you scoff, not believing him for one second. You want to tell him you don’t really listen to his stuff that much, but then you realise that might be insulting, and you don’t want to tell him you’re as big a fan as you are, or you’ll just look even more pathetic to him. “Listen, I’ll leave you alone,” you conclude.
“Oh,” he replies simply, before licking his lips and nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.”
You can’t help but feel like you’ve insulted him somehow, and you swallow hard, rushing to explain. “I don’t wanna seem like some creepy fan,” you excuse.
“Sweetheart, I’m the one that hit on you,” he laughs.
Your eyes only widen further, “you were hitting on me?”
“Yeah, well… I thought I was… I did call you hot, didn’t I?”
“I guess,” you agree, now feeling embarrassed for a whole new reason. The guy that has given you more orgasms than all the other men in your sexual history put together has hit on you. “I’m sorry, I just always assumed that a guy like you would be married, or at least dating someone.”
“Nah, my work is just as much for my benefit as it is yours, trust me,” he laughs softly. “So, can I at least buy you a drink, even if it’s just to thank you for liking my work?”
*
“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” you confess, already drunkenly laughing behind your hand as you look over at him.
Dean – or Jensen, you’ve now been told his real name is – seems to wait patiently for your confession, and in the two or so hours you’ve been sitting together drinking and getting to know each other, you somehow feel like you’ve known him for years. Maybe that’s because of the porn, but either way, you’re actually about to say this out loud.
“The audio that you released today?” you prompt, and a smirk grows over Jensen’s plump lips.
“Yeah…” he prompts.
“Well, I didn’t get to finish it, but let’s just say I started it in work… in a bathroom stall… and I’m still a mess. I was dying to get home to finish it.” Your confession doesn’t leave you as embarrassed as you thought it would, not when Jensen only smirks harder, and then bites his bottom lip as his green eyes look around the bar.
“Well… why don’t I just… show you what the rest was like?” he asks, blinking at you.
“What?” you ask, feeling yourself beginning to sober up at just the very thought of what Jensen’s implying.
“What if we… y’know, re-enacted it?”
*
“So how far did you get?” Jensen asks, breathing against your neck.
You crane it, pushing your head back further into your pillow as you moan softly, dragging your nails through the soft hair on the nape of his neck.
“Not very, you’d just pulled out a vibrator,” you explain breathlessly, your heart thudding in your chest. If this man is this good at kissing, you’re not sure you’ll survive the rest of it. And you already know what a filthy mouth he’s got from the dirty talking. And from talking to him tonight, you were more than excited to find out that his audios are a true reflection of his own kinks.
“Do you have one?” Jensen prompts, and you blindly reach under your bed for the box that holds your toys, throwing the lid off carelessly and wrapping your hand around your favourite vibrating silicone friend.
You produce it in front of you, stopping Jensen in his tracks as he smirks, taking it from you and throwing it to the bed next to you both.
“I don’t have a cock ring though,” you add with your own smirk, and Jensen chuckles lowly.
“Don’t worry, I’m covered,” he tells you smugly, taking your hand and pushing it under his boxers. Your hand meets soft, warm velvety skin, and as it gets a little lower, you feel the rubber ring at the very base of his swollen cock.
“Do you always go to bars wearing one of those?” you sass, wrapping your fingers around his erection and growing pleasantly surprised at the thickness.
“I had it on for the audio this morning, y’know, for authenticity, and figured I’d leave it on because I was so horny. Meeting you was just the bonus,” he explains.
“What else do you do for authenticity?” you tease, gasping when Jensen’s teeth sink into the delicate skin on your neck. “Do you…” you struggle to regain your composure, grinding your core up against his bare thigh, your slick coating his skin. “Do you actually eat pussy?” you finally manage to ask.
“Unfortunately not. It’s been a while since I got to eat a pussy… don’t mind if I fill up on you, do you, baby girl?”
“No, Daddy,” you whimper, not even ashamed at how quickly you submit to him.
“Oh, someone’s been listening to my work… such a good little whore, f’me, aren’t you? Bet you taste fucking delicious.”
Suddenly, Jensen’s face is gone, and you feel his hands grab the backs of your thighs and push your legs backwards, spreading you open. He doesn’t waste any time dining on your pussy, making sounds far more obscene then the audios could ever capture, and just when you thought this man couldn’t get you off any harder, you’ve finally felt his tongue for real, the stubble on his face rub along your delicate skin, you’ve finally felt exactly what this man can do to you.
Your fingers comb through the hair on the top of his head, and Jensen only ever pauses to bite and suck on the flesh at the insides of your thighs, before returning to licking and sucking your pussy like a starved man. Your back arches into his touch, and you nearly lose your mind when you see him blindly reach for the dildo you’d given him, turning it on to a low rumble as he presses the tip to your entrance.
“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he growls, his voice slightly deeper and far more reminiscent of his “Dean” persona.
You moan loudly, bucking your hips desperately as he begins to fuck you with your vibrator, and you find yourself torn between wanting his mouth back on your pussy, and wanting his cock replacing your toy. Amber’s right, sometimes you just need the real thing. Especially when the real thing is as tempting as Jensen’s.
“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good, please don’t stop,” you beg, feeling his mouth back on your cunt in an instant, and he laps at your arousal and moans loudly around your clit when he sucks it between his lips. “Holy fuck,” you shout, staring up at the ceiling, not sure you’re even going to survive this.
Jensen’s rutting against your mattress, but seems to be in no rush to finish eating you out any time soon, and your thighs tremble either side of his head as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface.
“That’s it baby,” Jensen pauses for a brief second to say. “Cum f’me,” he growls. “Cum on Daddy’s tongue, c’mon, perfect little cunt, tastes so sweet, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles, looking up grinning at you like the devil.
“Yes,” you whine, encouraging his mouth back on your clit as he now fucks your vibrator in and out of you so much better than the machine has ever managed to.
Jensen doesn’t stop to talk again, he just hums and moans against your skin until you’re cumming hard and fast on the toy, and he’s quickly removing it to lap at your juices that are practically flooding out of you.
As always when you listen to his work, your first orgasm does little to stave off the arousal he’s elicited from you, but luckily, it seems Jensen’s not done with you, because he licks his lips clean and hums, rising back to his knees between your legs. He begins stroking his cock in his hand, his eyes several shades darker as he looks down at you.
“So,” he smirks, guiding the tip of his cock towards your soppy entrance, only teasing it with his tip before tapping the heavy length on your sensitive clit, making you squirm. “Which of my audios should we re-enact next?” he asks.
“Any one that requires that inside me,” you reply, watching Jensen chuckle under his breath.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
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Shoutout Sunday
I just wanted to collect some of the most memorable Astarion fanfics I've read so far and to give them and their authors a big ol' shoutout. These are some of the fics I strongly suggest others to check out, if you haven't yet.
Also, please feel free to comment and recommend your favorites as well! And, if you know of some of these authors on tumblr, lemme know, so I can add them too :) I'm not too good with words, so I'll be slapping some of the authors own words as descriptions (for now). Oh, and do be mindful of tags etc etc... Here goes, in no particular order:
Pieces Still Stuck In Your Teeth by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "The Vampire Ascendent has crossed a line. Eleven years after making the biggest mistake of her life and losing the man she loved, tiefling wizard (now Archmage) Rosalie decides it’s time to put this Astarion in the ground for good. Hopefully, both her head and her heart are strong enough to see this awful task through to its end."
An Honest Lie by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "Astarion and Rosalie think they understand each other perfectly, but they have each fallen prey to the other’s mask. As they both go forward with their adventure, will either of them dare to be honest?"
A Crooked Touch by eyes_of_the_lamb "If you want to read a story where Astarion is sweet from the start and Tav is here to fix him, this isn't the one. If you want to read about two terribly broken men spending a good long while making each other worse before they make each other better, this might be for you. If you thought the in-game romance was a little too easy and it should have been ten times more painful and difficult to convince Astarion he's worthy of love, this is definitely for you."
Perfect Slaughter by Imagineitdear (@imagineitdearies ) "Tyrus, a low-born drow with aspirations for necromantic wizardry, finds none of the hospitality he expected from his new noble patron, Cazador Szarr. Quickly he loses his life and future, his hopes and dreams—only to find something new to fight for in the unlikely arms of Cazador’s least favorite spawn."
A Novel Experience by meanboss (@meanbossart ) "Initially just an epilogue for my own game campaign with my big meaty dark urge drow, turned whole story which I accidentally deleted and am now reuploading, my bad LOL
Hope you enjoy!"
Carving Through The Dark by skitter "The realm is safe and the story is over.
Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round."
Blood In The Weave by gingealish "There is no need to breathe, but I miss it all the same. The suffocating silence, the desperate darkness have encapsulated me for I don’t even know how long; It could have been tendays or years. I’ve long since accepted my punishment, stopped trying in vain to crack the seal of my tomb against the onslaught of panic and hunger. Now I lay here, thinking of the friends I’ve lost, the lover who turned on me, and how to finally get even.
Astarion is the new Big Bad Evil Guy. Spawn Tav is rescued by a familiar face. "
When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by bg_brainrot "You saved Baldur’s Gate almost 300 years ago. You died 150 years ago. On a new life now, you find that memories from your past lead you to a specific silver-haired man. Who was he, and why won't he leave you be? tldr; An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well."
More Than Any Words by mataglap "They have saved the city and possibly the world. All is great and everyone is happy... except Astarion has been banished back into the shadows, and Tav is stuck in an uneven battle with his own oath. He's losing the fight. He knew he would from the moment he fell for Astarion. But he can't lose yet, not before they find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again."
Inexhaustible Oil by homeward_bound "This is the absolute opposite of a redemption fic. A post-canon, fall-from-grace, "I can make you infinitely worse" kind of story, in which there is no simple happy ending. But there's mystery on the way. And dragons. True love, even. So if you're fine with that, come aboard. It's going to be a wild ride."
#astarion#bg3#shoutout sunday#astarion fanfics#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfic writers#astarion fanfic recs#astarion fanfic recommendations#astarion fic#bg3 fanfic recs#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfic writers#astarion fic writers#mine#fanfic writer appreciation#fanfic appreciation#astarion x tav#spawn astarion fanfic#ascended astarion fanfic#astarion x female tav#astarion x male tav#astarion x oc
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 8
series masterlist | previous part
lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris 100th race, p2, and a nice little call with my girl to show off her flexibility. thank you austin
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user3 ‘MY GIRL’🥹🥹🥹
user7 I KNEWWW EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY
user9 lando have you seen what she’s done?
landonorris have friends? yeah pretty happy for her tbh
charles_leclerc p2 because the fia hates lewis and me*
user2 see everyone the boys are fine
landonorris keep crying mate
yourusername i actually hate you so bad rn
yourusername @/charles_leclerc SURE you don’t wanna date me instead?
user1 HELP Y/N AJDJDJSJ
user6 she said i’ve had ENOUGH
charles_leclerc make me that rice dish again and i’ll consider it
landonorris @/charles_leclerc you don’t even know what tteokbokki is called you don’t deserve her😤
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 200,087 others
yourusername from monaco with love
👤 tagged alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc
only people yourusername follows can comment
alex_albon we need to have a serious conversation about how cute lily always looks in the photos you take and yet��. me…
lilymhe that’s just your face baby
charles_leclerc he’s not gonna know what hit him🤫
yourusername you could not have made this sound worse
charles_leclerc i’m quite enjoying being an accessory to internet drama
lilymhe do you know what’s rude? you spend one (1) second with a man and get a dating rumour… yet NOTHING when you hang w me!
yourusername FR we’ve been married for two years atp🙄
landonorris i know a Better place in monaco you can visit🧡
yourusername get your cute butt home and show me then
texts with charles ੈ✩‧₊˚
y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates y/n at the airport today!! it seems she’s flying out to mexico for the upcoming grand prix 🩷
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user9 seriously? has everyone just forgotten she’s a cheater?
user3 and yet you follow fan accounts of her??? get a life
user7 ur actually miserable. lando hates u.
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y/nupdates any unnecessary hate comments will be deleted and you will be blocked🩷
user8 she’s so pretty even in the rain :( and she stopped to take photos with fans
user1 apparently someone gave her a necklace with an L on it and she put it straight on🥹
user8 @/user1 YOURE KIDDING THATS SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY
user1 THEY GAVE HER A MATCHING BRACELET FOR LANDO WITH HER INITIALS ON AS WELL!!!!
landonorris thank you admin for giving me a new lockscreen
user2 OH MY GOD ADMIN
y/nupdates 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 YOU ARE SO WELCOME
landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
tweet 4 should finish: hate towards those close to me*
tweet 6 should finish: blocked by my team**
twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren from p17-p5. not the start to the weekend he wanted but he only went and turned it around🙌🏻
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user2 SO PROUDDDS
user9 all because of her….
user3 HAVE FUN GETTING BLOCKED LMAO
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user6 GUYS I THINK MCLAREN ACTUALLY BLOCKED THEM THE COMMENT ISNT SHOWING UP FOR ME LMAOOO
yourusername that’s my boy
mclaren we heard it had something to do with his lucky charm😉
user3 this isn’t taking a week off ma’am
yourusername had to support the boy. it starts now <3
y/nupdates just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
a/n:
OKAY this part was boring i am very sorry BUT there is onE OFFICIAL PART LEFT. it’ll be a long one i warn now but then there may be a mini epilogue of stuff i fully made up for next summer xxxx
thank you all for coming on this crazy ride with me — sorry it’s aLL OVER THE PLACE atm but it makes sense in my head ok
charles au is also otw next week and a one shot lando smau
taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicoranorca @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#f1#f1 x reader#lando norris au#lando norris imagine#mclaren#lando norris blurb#lando norris scenario#lando norris smau
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The Prophecy | Celebrimbor
Guys. The brainrot is all consuming. Send help.
I was listening to the Tortured Poets Department the other day and felt like this really fits with what I’ve written for him so far. I know I’m writing this plot out of order, but it will eventually all make sense. I am still training at work, and while that constitutes nothing for me, it means I have too much time on my hands.
This will fit into the 3 part fic called Where Are You? that will cover 2x06-2x08. I haven't rewatched 2x08 yet, but that's coming. I have so many ideas for you guys that I may just start rapid fire releasing the drabbles first.
next fic is for High King Gil-Galad
Secondly, this concept is turning into an OC fic. It will be on Ao3 by the end of this year!
Tag: @pentaghasm @celebrimbormylove @thesolarangel @wild-typo-turtle @ladyoflindon @sandwichmustbetasty
Song inspiration: The Prophecy - Taylor Swift
Prompt: You ruminate on what little you remember in your purpose of being in Eregion while Celebrimbor sleeps at your side. The Valar may grant mercy on occasion, but you wonder if this ends in doom for you both.
***
Things are beginning to come back in pieces. You aren’t exactly sure why. There are flashes of gentle eyes and gray hair. Whispered words in Quenya as you perfect your natural healing ability. Your name, the real one given to you, but you don’t remember by who. Not yet.
You prefer the name given to you by Celebrimbor.
Said elf lays beneath your palm, breathing steady even as he sleeps. You had been the one to seek him out for comfort this time. It was a rare night of him succumbing to sleep early, and so you had sought him out in desperation, aching for the comfort of Celebrimbor’s embrace to shelter you from your memories.
You’d forgotten until you’d fallen into his bed how far away he was. It didn’t matter that you could feel his heartbeat, or touch his skin. He was worlds away from you.
And all because of Annatar.
Now you lay here, head pillowed against his chest, fingers tracing shapes against his abdomen, too distracted by your racing thoughts to sleep. Annatar’s constant demands and high expectations in the crafting of the Rings had put you both on edge. Celebrimbor had been elusive as well. So much of his time was spent locked away in The Forge, just out of reach.
He’d never deny you. Not even with the distance between you both.
No one but you could feel the dark magic in that room. The shadows that shrouded the elf you love, even now, so suffocating that it remains difficult to breathe.
“Please,” You whisper. No one may be listening. You have no idea. You would beg whatever entity did listen for this. “Please do not let this end in doom.”
With the trajectory of what was occurring, you had been trying to fight the impending sense of doom lingering in your heart for weeks. The nagging feeling in the back of your head that you are to be preparing for a funeral for you or Celebrimbor by the conclusion.
Or both of you.
You shiver at the thought and bury your face in Celebrimbor’s shoulder. His arm tightens around you instinctively, like the elf you’ve fallen in love with still resides deep within the recesses of the mind he’s been made prisoner in.
Please, I’ve been on my knees
Change the prophecy
“He’s so good,” You whisper. “Everything he does is from the goodness of his heart. A kind heart.” You hold your breath as your tears collide with Celebrimbor’s skin, causing him to shift beneath you and press his face into your hair with a quiet grumble. You don’t dare speak again until you’re sure he’s asleep. “All of Celebrimbor’s intentions have been pure. He wants to do right by his people and rectify the sins and shortcomings of the House of Fëanor. This should not end in ruin. Not his.”
Don’t want money, just someone who wants my company
Let it once be me
You wish you could pull him out. Use your magic to break through the darkness that has settled upon this city, settled upon him, and force your way through the walls Annatar has erected to keep him complacent. It is Celebrimbor’s own chains that keep him prisoner.
Chains built by pride and ambition.
No. If anything, Celebrimbor will have to awaken from the depths of this illusion when the stakes are too high and he has something to lose.
Who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo the prophecy??
You run your free hand to rest your fingertips against his temple, smiling against the curve of his cheek as Celebrimbor begins to stir beneath you. Heavy lidded eyes flutter open to meet your own. In those few moments of silence, you can see him.
“Why-“ Celebrimbor starts, cut off by a yawn as he buries his face in your neck and rolls to slot a leg between yours. The action has you blushing as you raise your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. The action usually puts him right back to sleep. “It isn’t even dawn yet, love. Why are you awake?”
You contemplate an answer for several seconds. Part of you wants to tell him, to confide in him about that underlying fear of ruin, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’ll say if you directly mention Annatar.
You don’t even know if you could trust in him not repeating what you’ve said to Annatar.
So you instead allow him to place a lingering kiss at the corner of your jaw, humming softly as his fingers soothe your body's aches by massaging at your hip.
You’re so tired.
“Too much to ruminate on. My mind will not let me rest.” You reply. Celebrimbor frowns, the furrow in his brow deepening as concern flashes behind his eyes. “I will be fine. You sleep, my love. I will be here when you wake.”
Celebrimbor does not complain. He can't. Too many times have you been the one to hold him, to shelter him from the storm of his own mind as he wakes briefly enough to seek you out. Too many times have you been the one to leave food at his table, to bring him tea, to offer him your company when his solitude becomes too great to bear.
Too many times have you fallen back asleep while Celebrimbor wept in the silence.
You hear Celebrimbor whisper his, "I love you." before settling again, this time with his hand pressed against your stomach and his hair tickling your nose. The sheer vulnerability of being so willing to sleep in a position like this when you've been apart for weeks has tears burning the back of your eyes.
Who do I have to speak to To change the prophecy?
You hold him there on the precipice of sleep and allow, for just this moment, your fear to breach the surface.
"Please," You whisper. "Please, just this once, grant us mercy."
***
And far above the reaches of Middle Earth, she heard you.
The Lady of Mercy and Grief did not ignore the suffering of those who dared to reach for her.
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more than everything else
For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘proposal’ wc: 999 rated m cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic
💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍
“Steve! Freezer’s working again!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the floor behind their previously defunct freezer.
Eddie insisted he could fix it himself, hence the hours he’d spent on the floor with tools that weren’t doing anything and a lip bitten until it bled.
“Told you if you took your shirt off it would work faster,” Steve said from the doorway, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Eddie being half naked.
Sweat dripping down his chest.
A bruise forming on his side where he’d dropped a wrench on himself earlier.
His newest tattoo peeling because he’d forgotten to put Vaseline on it earlier.
“I always listen to you, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked as he stood up. “You got any plans later?”
“I actually do remember something on the calendar.”
Eddie walked over to him, covered Steve’s hands with his own and rocked him side to side. “Damn.”
“Why? You wanna make plans?” Steve raised a brow.
“I thought I could get a reward for all my hard work today,” Eddie pouted his bottom lip out, eyes widening as he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Maybe in the bedroom?”
“Reward? For fixing the freezer that you broke?”
“I seem to remember someone saying that the freezer was just ‘old’ and that this ‘could’ve happened to anyone.’ Or am I mistaken?” Eddie let go of Steve’s hands but stayed close to him.
“I’m not sure who said that. I do remember someone saying that if you turned it down too far for too long, it would break, though. Maybe you can recall who said that?” Steve leaned in to peck his lips softly, teasing just a little with his fingers along the waistband of Eddie’s pants. “Seems like a smart guy.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. At least the guy who broke it could fix it.”
“That’s right, baby.” Steve backed away. “Now. I’ve got baked chicken spaghetti in the oven for dinner and I made cookies earlier if you-“
“Marry me.”
Steve froze, his eyes widened.
Maybe Eddie could’ve been more eloquent, more romantic.
Shit, maybe he could do that still.
He reached for Steve’s hands, smiling softly at him as his eyes darted between Eddie’s, searching for him to say that it was a joke.
“I’m serious.” Eddie kissed his forehead before continuing. “You think I survived the hell of ‘86 to not end up with Steve Harrington? You think I’ve spent nearly every day of the last six years trying to be the best partner you could ask for, the kind you deserve? You make me wanna be more than everything else.”
“What-“
Eddie shushed him with a kiss. “When I was little, like barely old enough to ride a bike, my mom brought me to a flower shop. She said I had to pick a nice flower for my teacher so she knew I was a sweet kid. I picked a daffodil. She laughed and said ‘you know the love of my life always brought my a daffodil’ and when I asked why dad didn’t bring them to her anymore she said ‘he never did.’ And as I got older I realized what that meant. I never could ask her about it, but I eventually asked Wayne. He said-“ Eddie sniffed, biting his lip trying not to cry. “He said sometimes the love you get isn’t what makes you feel better than everything else, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel more than everything else. And I still didn’t quite get it, ya know? Made no damn sense to me when I was 13. Kinda thought Wayne was high.” Steve laughed, Eddie smiled. “But then I saw you in the cafeteria one day, and I saw the way you held the door open for some of the band kids even though Tommy was teasing you for it. And I saw how much you did for me at my worst, even before you had a reason to, before you knew it would be worth more. I see how you love, and how you keep loving, even when some people may not deserve it. I feel how much you are, how much more you can still be. And how much I wanna be more to be worthy of you. I don’t have much, you know I don’t, but you love me anyway. And you make me wanna be more.”
Steve’s tears were falling rapidly, a sob escaping at the end of Eddie’s words as he fell forward, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt instantly.
“You’re enough for me,” he finally managed to say against Eddie’s neck. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t want more. I just want you.”
“I know, sweet love. I know.” Eddie’s arms tightened around him. “You think you could marry me?”
“Eds. I would marry you every day if we could.” Steve sniffed as he pulled away. “We can’t really do it, though.”
“Maybe not. But we can wear rings, tell everyone. I can call you my husband around the people who love us.”
That was a hell of a thought.
Husbands.
“You’re sure you want that?”
“Of course I am. Who else is gonna fix your freezer when it breaks?”
“Maybe you could try not to break it in the first place.” Steve smacked his shoulder. He kissed him slowly, tongue brushing against his bottom lip but not looking for more. “But I guess it would be nice to have someone around all the time to fix the stuff he breaks.”
“Hey!”
“I love you.”
It was that simple.
“So. My reward?”
“My hand in marriage.” Steve turned away and looked over his shoulder. “And maybe my hand in other places. If you hurry up and shower.”
“I’ll be done in five. Be naked on the kitchen table-“
“Eddie, not-“
“The kitchen table!”
Steve rolled his eyes but threw his shirt to the floor and winked before making his way to the kitchen. “Five minutes!”
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Touch Me (Frank Castle x f!Reader)
MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST
A/N: Hi friends! I know I said I wanted to get this out by yesterday, but I ended up at my local(ish?) urgent care yesterday afternoon because ya girl has apparently been walking around with bronchitis for two weeks now. I’m on medicine, and I’ve been resting/editing this all day, but I could not for the life of me get this thing finished yesterday. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It is literally porn with plot. P.S. - bearded Frank makes me go absolutely FERAL, and the gif I chose for today's fic makes me even MORE FERAL!!!!!!
Request: if requests are open, do you think you could write about Pete/ Frank still works at the construction site and reader is his girlfriend and she visits him for lunch at the construction site and the guys are astonished and you can come up with the rest if you would like.
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: When Frank’s coworkers notice you a little too much after you bring him his forgotten lunch, you want to remind him that he’s the only man for you, but Frank’s a generous lover, and you’re not leaving the truck until he’s made you come at least three times.
(Warnings: oh boy, smut, SMUT, did I mention smut??, porn with plot, v fingering, hand job sort of??, oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie lol, truck sex, soooo much kissing, protective Frank, you save the horse and ride the cowboy – know what I mean??, Frank talks you through it!!!!!, mentions of oral (male receiving), Frank is a consent king, Frank will be damned if anything bad happens to his baby girl!!!)
Frank eyed the clock, a nervous tick he’d developed over the last three hours as he waited for lunchtime to roll around. On any other day, lunch would’ve come and gone without a second thought from Frank, but not today. In his hurry to get to work this morning, he’d left the lunch you’d generously packed for him the night before. It was your fault, technically, but Frank was a gentleman, and gentlemen weren’t supposed to blame their girlfriends for forgotten lunches, especially when it was the incredible head you were giving him that made him late leaving this morning.
He'd gotten shit for it the minute he stepped on the site, barely getting a chance to pour his coffee before the guys were on his ass about his punch card. Frank brushed it off. It was all in good fun anyways, and he was the boss around here, so it didn’t really matter if he was late once in a blue moon. He didn’t divulge the reason for his tardiness, much more inclined to grunt a “fuck off” towards the guys and start his work for the day.
The nervousness set it when you called and told him you’d bring his lunch to him. The guys knew almost nothing about Frank’s personal life, which is what he preferred. They didn’t know anything about his past, and they certainly didn’t know about you. What he had going on before and after work hours was none of their business, you were none of their business, but that would change any minute.
“You got a hot date or something, man?” Antonio, one of the only guys Frank tolerated, asked as they moved a stack of wooden beams towards what would eventually become a master bedroom.
“What?” Frank lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at Antonio.
“You’ve checked the clock more in the last 25 minutes than I do on Friday afternoons. You expectin’ somethin’?”
Frank let out a nervous chuckle, which did little to subside Antonio’s curiosity. Instead, intense concern crossed Antonio’s face, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. His brain felt like it had been rewired, and he had no idea how to respond to Antonio’s question without causing more questions. He didn’t have a chance to respond, though, because the sound of clicking heels had caused heads to turn faster than Frank knew was possible.
Frank turned, relaxing when he spotted you. You smiled and waved, ignoring the men around you that were clearly enamored by your presence. Frank couldn’t blame them – you were beautiful – but that didn’t keep the bubble of anger from welling up inside his chest. You were his, and if he was going to make one thing clear to them today, it was that.
Frank marched up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body into his chest. He pressed a sultry kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth in his way of saying hello. When you pulled away, you were smiling, and Frank couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that damned smile of yours.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned, slightly ashamed that he’d let his jealousy get the best of him in front of the guys that worked for him. It was definitely unprofessional to make out with your significant other in the middle of an active construction site while the entirety of your team gawked at your display of affection, right?
“That’s lunch.” He called out, not taking his eyes off yours.
The guys filed out, some with smirks on their faces, others with nothing but food on their minds. Antonio was smiling when he walked past the both of you, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself why he barely tolerated the kid.
“Speaking of lunch,” you smiled, eyes bright and adoring as you looked at Frank, “Where do you want to eat? I’m not sure I can handle the roof.”
You were all too aware of Frank’s frequent lunch spots. Sitting a the top of buildings that were half constructed, legs hanging over the edge, was Frank’s favorite way to spend lunch, much to your chagrin. You were terrified of heights and refused to even think about how dangerous Frank’s lunch activities were.
“You want to stay?” Frank asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Of course! As long as we’re not eating on the roof.” You pointed upwards for emphasis, shaking your head.
“I guess I could change up my lunch spot for the day.” Frank faked an exasperated sigh. “What about my truck?”
“Sounds good to me, babe.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the front of what would eventually be a nice house in a nice neighborhood outside of Brooklyn. A house that Frank wished he could afford to buy for you. Hell, he’d build you a house if he could afford the land to build it on. You didn’t mind the small apartment you and Frank shared, but Frank couldn’t help the incessant desire to spoil you.
It was a brisk 35 degrees outside, and you bundled into Frank’s side as he opened the passenger side door for you. Frank hustled to the other side of the truck, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the truck. The heat blasting from the vents was a welcome warmth, and Frank couldn’t shake the tiny sliver of guilt that sliced through him when you began blowing in your hands to warm them up. If he’d just remembered the fucking lunch box, you wouldn’t be sitting in the cold right now.
“Damn, the heat works so well in here.” You observed, holding your hands in the path of the hot air.
“One of the perks of being the boss, I guess.” Frank shrugged. The truck was a necessary purchase, especially once Frank’s work picked up, but you still weren’t used to it. You’d spent so many years taking the subway to get places that having access to a vehicle was a foreign concept to you. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here just to bring me lunch.”
“Don’t apologize. I like to see what you’re working on. I wish you’d let me come by more often.”
“You’d be bored. It’s just a bunch of sweaty old guys hammering nails.”
“Sounds like a wet dream to me.” You smirked, clearly joking at Frank’s expense. “I didn’t realize I’d cause such a fuss by showing up.”
Frank shrugged. “If any of them say a single word about you after lunch, I’m gonna break their jaws.”
“Frank, baby, relax.” You ran your hand up his arm. “Even if they do say something, it’s probably just because they had no idea I even existed.”
“I don’t like them knowing about you. You’re mine.”
Frank was aware that what he was saying was insane, but he never cared much about his sanity when it came to protecting the woman he loved. He’d be damned if another person was taken from him, and if that made him crazy, then so be it. Frank Castle would take crazy over mourning any day of the week.
You crept closer to Frank, shifting so that you could lean your elbow against the back of the bench seat.
“Them knowing about me doesn’t change that I’m yours, Frankie.”
Frank grunted, annoyance running through his veins. He knew you were right, but the fact that the guys were probably running their mouths about his relationship with you right now was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want you anywhere near their fucked up thoughts.
“You’re so tense, Frankie.” You mumbled, eyeing the way Frank was clenching and unclenching his fist in an irregular pattern. “Let me help you.”
This got his attention. His head swiveled around, eyebrows raised, as he looked to you for confirmation on what you’d just said. You matched his expression, unwilling to move until he consented to your idea.
“Yeah? You wanna help me?” He asked, already leaning back to make room for you to climb onto his lap.
“You could eat your lunch instead.” You mumbled, “If that’s what you want.”
Frank slowly shook his head, watching the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.
“No.”
“You’re not hungry?” You asked, inching closer to him.
“Oh, I’m hungry.” Frank conceded, “But I’d rather have you for lunch.”
This omission sent a spark through your body, and you lurched forward, swinging your leg over his hip to straddle him. You looked down at him, enjoying the way his face already seemed more relaxed than moments before. You pressed a soft kiss on the crease of his forehead, the one that always made an appearance when he was stressing about something, and watched as it smoothed itself out.
Frank tilted his chin up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand snaked up your back, curling his fingers in your hair and gently pulling on it, which elicited the most delicious gasp he’d ever heard slip from between your lips. He decided right then and there that if that sound was the last thing he ever heard, he’d die the happiest death a man could ask for.
He slammed his lips onto yours, unable to constrain himself any longer. His hands found themselves wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You grinded yourself against him, moaning against Frank’s lips when you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him again, letting out a devilish groan when the friction of the movement rubbed against your clit.
“Frank,” you moaned in between kisses, “touch me.”
It wasn’t just a desire to please you; it was a need. Frank was nothing if not generous, and the minute you started begging, he had already unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Frank let out a loud groan when he realized how entirely soaked through your panties were, clenching the fingers that were fiddling with the waistband of your jeans.
You pushed your hips closer to his hand, dying to feel his fingers. The panting coming from the both of you had fogged up the windows of the truck, obstructing anyone’s view into the truck. The construction site was dead anyways, but at this point, you didn’t think you cared if someone could see in. You wanted Frank so badly that you had lost your ability to care about anything besides Frank’s fingers.
“Want me to touch you, baby?” Frank cooed, “Want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”
Frank’s breath was hot on your neck, and you nearly came from his words alone.
“I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You moaned, grinding your hips against Frank’s fingers again. Your actions completely juxtaposed your words, but you couldn’t help yourself. Frank was just so good at making you come.
“Making you feel good makes me feel good, sweetheart.” Frank pressed the pads of his fingers against the fabric of your panties, swirling them around in an achingly slow circle. A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you threw your head back, gasping with pleasure.
“Are you sure?” You panted, unsure if you could stand being clothed for another second.
Frank responded by swiping your underwear aside and running two fingers between the folds of your pussy. When his fingers finally covered your clit, you let out an agonizing moan. Frank resumed circling his fingers around your clit, but his pace was more urgent, like he wanted to see you get off on his fingers just as much as you wanted to come all over his hand.
Your legs began to shake, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss. His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you began to grind against his fingers in a rhythm that matched the pace of his hand. It was a flurry of passionate kisses and sinful moans as you came apart on Frank’s hand. You breathed through the orgasm as it crashed through you, slumping against Frank’s shoulder in exhaustion.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Frank pulled his hand away from your clit, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over so that your back lied against the front seat of the truck, “You did so good.”
Frank hovered over you, pressing a soft kiss onto your nose before gently capturing your lips with his. You were still reeling from your orgasm, content to stay in this position forever, when Frank suddenly sat up. You blinked up at him, wondering if maybe his lunch was already over, but the way he began to pull your jeans down your hips told you he was nowhere near done with you.
You kicked your jeans and panties off, pussy clenching around nothing as the air hit your wet core. You spread your legs further, giving Frank a view of how easily he’d ruined you.
“Fuck baby,” Frank groaned, rubbing his thumb through the slickness that had begun running down your inner thighs, “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
You moaned when he began playing with your clit again, overstimulated but too turned on to stop him.
“Can I taste you?” Frank asked, fully focused on how wet you were. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with desire.
“You’re being too generous.” You sat up, resting on your elbows as he finally locked eyes with you.
“I want to.” He shrugged, already positioning his face near your core. He threw your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on your stomach, glancing up at you to make sure he had your consent. You spread your legs wider, nodding.
“I need words, baby. Can I taste you?”
Frank’s hot breath coasted over your pussy as he spoke, and the dull throb of desire erupted into a full blown ache.
“Yes, God, please.” You whined.
When his tongue finally met your core, you threw your head back and moaned so loud you were sure the entire neighborhood heard it. Frank was astonishingly graceful at eating pussy, approaching it like it was a dance between his tongue and your clit. He knew exactly when to be gentle, when to roughen it up, and when you were seconds away from coming all over his tongue, he knew exactly how to suck on your clit so that you saw stars for hours afterwards.
Frank normally liked to take his time with this, coaxing multiple small orgasms out of you before finally letting you fall apart around his mouth, but today he was on a time crunch, and he wanted to make you come around his cock before his lunch break was over, too. So instead of going slow and steady, Frank dined on your pussy like a man starved. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, licking and sucking all throughout your core as you came closer and closer to your orgasm. He teased your entrance with his tongue, coasting over it every time he flattened his tongue against your folds.
“Oh shit, Frank.” You groaned, arching your back.
He hummed against your pussy, which had your legs shaking so aggressively that he had to clamp his hands over them to keep them from sliding off his shoulders. You were so close, and Frank knew it. He smirked against your core, trailing his tongue around your clit before slightly sucking. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when the crux of your orgasm finally hit you, you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your legs into the sides of Frank’s head. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, and no matter how deeply you inhaled, you couldn’t quite catch your breath. The world around you faded, and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Frank’s hands gently caressing your thighs.
Frank crawled up your body, hovering over you as you came back to yourself. You hadn’t expected to come that hard, especially not in a cramped space like Frank’s car, but he always managed to surprise you.
You swallowed thickly, blinking up at his swollen and slick lips. He was always beautiful, you thought, but right now, you’d never seen anything as beautiful as him covered in your wetness. You leaned upwards, kissing him with every ounce of yourself that you could. The taste of you was still fresh on his tongue, and he groaned when you swiped your tongue against his, grinding against your unclothed pussy with his denim jeans.
The friction was overstimulating, but you wanted him deep inside you so badly that you began meeting his hips halfway, grinding against him so heavily that you were sure he’d have stains on the front of his jeans later. He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching down and unbuckling his belt with one had. He was moving at a languid pace, and you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking his hand out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. He chuckled when you undid his zipper in record time, forcing his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.
“Someone’s eager to feel my cock, huh?” Frank cooed, brushing his nose against yours, “You want me to fuck you silly, sweetheart?”
You wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, pumping up and down as he teased you. The tip was already wet, drops of precum beading at the head.
“Can I ride you?” You asked, pushing his shoulders slightly.
He raised his eyebrows at your boldness. You were usually so eager to let him control the situation, but the look in your eyes when you spoke told a different story. You wanted to make him feel good, and you weren’t planning on letting him leave until that happened.
“Sometimes,” you started, sitting up and pushing Frank down into the seat underneath you, “I want to be the one to fuck you silly.”
You straddled Frank and lined him up with your entrance. You were not going to waste any more of his break not fucking him. Frank let out a stuttering moan as you lowered yourself onto him. When you were finally full of him, stretched out and pliant, you panted at the overwhelming feeling. No matter how many times Frank fucked you, it always took you a few moments to adjust to his size.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Frank leaned his head against the headrest, grabbing onto your hips in a brutal hold that you knew would bruise later.
You slowly began to rock against him, holding onto the seat behind him for leverage. You moaned when his cock pushed against the spot deep within you that drove you crazy, and couldn’t help the way your breath stuttered out of you. Frank angled his face towards yours, watching in awe as you panted over him, licking your lips and squeezing your eyes closed. He leaned toward you, nipping your jaw with his teeth in a teasing gesture. You ground down on him even harder, and he chuckled.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, running his nose along the curve of your cheekbone. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy sometimes.”
“Yeah?” You mumbled, picking up your rhythm as you grinded against him. You yelped when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, bucking up into you so hard that you swore you saw stars.
“Can’t think about anything else some days.” Frank nuzzled his cheek against yours, tightening his hold around you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.”
You mewled at his praise, even though you had made it clear that you wanted to be the one making him feel good, not the other way around. You couldn’t help but mewl. He always knew what to say to make your chest warm and fuzzy, even when he was fucking up into you so hard that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.
“C’mon baby girl,” Frank’s tone was low and delicious, and the tingle that worked its way up your spine told you exactly how much you liked the sound of it, “Give me one more, baby.”
“Frank, I-” You let out a guttural moan when you felt his fingers tracing a circle around your clit. Your legs began to shake again, and you knew you were seconds away from coming again. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You finally panted, quickening your pace as you grinded against his cock and fingers.
“I want you to come on my cock, sweetheart.” Frank smirked as you squeezed around him, “That will make me feel good, baby. Can you do that for me, baby girl? Hmm? I know you can. Make me feel good, sweet girl. Come on my cock.”
Frank was talking you through it, and you could not fathom how incredibly hot it was. The intensity at which your orgasm hit you was earth-shattering, and if the neighborhood hadn’t heard you earlier, they certainly heard you this time. You rocked against Frank, whining and panting and doing everything in your power not to fall apart completely before he could reach his high as well.
“My good girl,” Frank wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your chest against his so that he could kiss you all over your face, “You did so good, sweetheart.”
His praise made you whine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slamming your lips into his, quickening your pace as you grinded against him. It was overstimulating, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than Frank coming deep inside you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Frank mumbled against your lips, tightening his arms around you, “’m gonna come.”
“Come in me,” you panted, squeezing around his cock.
“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up?” Frank was breathing so heavy against your ear that goosebumps littered down your back and shoulders. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he pounded up into you, and when he finally came, warm spurts of come coating your walls, you both slumped against each other, worn out and sweaty.
Frank’s heart was pounding in his chest, and you subconsciously tapped your finger against his neck in the same rhythm until it finally calmed down. You leaned back, glancing over Frank’s features. His eyes were closed, chin tilted upwards in a relaxed, casual position. The stress creases in his face were long gone, and he looked a decade younger than he did when you’d shown up earlier.
“Wish we could stay like this.” He mumbled, running his fingers along your thighs.
“Me too, Frankie.” You nodded, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “How much time until you have to go back?”
Frank slightly opened one of his eyes, checking the clock on the dash before closing it again. “Just enough time to drop you off at home and come back. The guys will appreciate the extended lunch.”
You shook your head. “I can get an uber or take the subway, Frank. You don’t have to drive me.”
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive my beautiful girlfriend home after she came all the way here to bring me lunch and make me feel good?”
“A normal one.” You snorted, rolling your eyes.
“Well then I guess I ain’t normal.” Frank smiled, leaning in to kiss you before tapping your thigh with his hand. “I hate to say it, but I can’t drive with you straddlin’ me like this.”
You lifted yourself off him, rolling over into the passenger seat. Your limbs still buzzed with pleasure, and it took you longer than you care to admit to find your panties and put them back on. You were pulling your jeans over your hips when Frank began to roll the windows down and wipe the windshield off. You and him had emitted enough fog that it was impossible to see out of any of the windows, let alone drive.
When the windows were finally cleared and Frank had texted Antonio to let him know he’d be a few minutes late getting back from lunch (Antonio’s only response was the winking emoji), Frank drove you back to the apartment you shared with him. He walked you to the door, kissed you goodbye, turned, then turned back to kiss you again.
“I left your lunch on the passenger seat, okay? It should still be warm with how hot the truck was earlier.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Frank grinned, pulling you in for a third goodbye kiss.
You finally pushed him off you, chuckling when he tried to chase your lips with his.
“Go to work, Frank. I’ll see you tonight.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes, giving you a final kiss before turning and jogging back to the truck. When you closed the door and locked it, you slumped towards the bedroom, the only thing on your mind being the nap you were about to take.
Frank ate his lunch on the drive back to the construction site, nearly getting choked up when he realized you had gotten him Lombardi’s pizza. You knew how much he loved it, and he vowed to show you how grateful he was when he returned home. When he made it back to the site, he was only half an hour late, but that didn’t stop the guys from joking with him about it.
“Twice in one day, boss? She worth it?”
“Must be. He doesn’t look half as grumpy as he usually does.”
Frank rolled his eyes, counting to ten as a way to manage his anger before outwardly responding.
“If any of you fuckers have anything else to say about her, I’ll bash your heads in with the sledgehammer. Got it?”
Frank glanced at the faces around him. So much for managing his anger. Antonio was the only one that didn’t look utterly terrified as they returned to work.
“So, boss.” Antonio started, smirking as he leaned against one of the structural beams.
“Don’t you start.” Frank pointed at him for emphasis, warning the kid away from any topics he may regret bringing up. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and he was one of the hardest workers Frank had encountered in the business, but he did not want to discuss his love life with his 22 year old employee.
“I was just going to ask how much plaster you think we’ll need for the bathroom.” Antonio pointed behind him with his thumb, gesturing towards the space that would soon be an ensuite.
“Sure you were.” Frank couldn’t wait to end the day and crawl into your loving arms, but he had a shit ton of work to do before then, and he would always be the last one on site for the evening.
Later that evening, after he’d finally trudged through the door, showered, and ravished you, you were caressing his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.
“So,” you murmured, “D’ya break any jaws after I left?”
“You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t break any jaws after you left.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“What?” He asked.
“You mean to tell me that you didn’t lose your shit on anyone after I left today?”
“No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I said. I definitely lost my shit, but I didn’t break anyone’s jaw.”
“Oh, that’s good.” You mumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes and chuckling.
You nuzzled into his chest, relaxing as he enveloped you with warmth.
“I love you, sweet girl. I’m not ashamed of that. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. I just don’t like people knowing my business. I want to keep you safe.”
“I know, Frankie. I’m not upset about it. I love you too.”
“You promise?”
“That I love you?” You smirked against his chest.
“No, smart ass. That you’re not upset.”
“I promise.” You grinned as he pressed a kiss into your hair.
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Whumptober 7 - only for emergencies
title: in which gem is the only one with normal eyes
fandom: hermitcraft smp
cw: blood and injuries, mild gore, mild cannibalism (idk if it really counts as cannibalism tho...)
~
“Oh, we’ll be out of here pretty quick!” Scar declared confidently. “Xisuma won’t rest until he finds us.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Pearl questioned. Gem elbowed her.
Scar just waved her off. “If he doesn’t, then I have a back-up plan. But only for emergencies, I’m sure it’ll never come to that!”
They were stuck in here, in this concrete room, a sink and a bucket in the corner. The door was heavy and locked; the only comfort they had were three ragged blankets, which they had each dragged to separate spots in the room, marking their claim for somewhere to rest.
Gem had never been kidnapped before. Not officially, by someone who wasn’t a Hermit. But there was a first time for everything!
“I’m sorry, guys,” Pearl said after a long moment, the little feelers on her head twitching. “I shouldn’t have gone out in public with y’all.”
“Don’t say that,” Gem reprimanded, smacking Pearl on the arm.
“It wouldn’t have been the same without you!” insisted Scar.
“I just . . . if I hadn’t, then maybe—”
“Then we wouldn’t have gotten to go on this fun field trip!”
Scar grinned. “I love fun field trips. Don’t you, Pearl?”
Pearl rolled her eyes, but at least she was smiling. “Whatever.”
“My mom packed me cookies for this field trip,” Scar stage-whispered to Gem. “But I’m willing to trade.”
“My mom just gave me money to buy food.”
“Oh, that’s way better! Now my sandwich looks boring.”
“What kind of sandwich?”
“Classic peanut butter. But I’ve also—”
“I didn’t think I was kidnapped with children,” Pearl said drily. “Do you two mind?”
Scar grimaced. “I think we made the bus driver mad.”
“We? That was all—”
“I wish the torture would start, already.”
-
They came for Pearl a couple of hours later, by Gem’s watch.
They’d been out on the Hub for a game of lazer tag, of all things. It was supposed to be Gem, Pearl, and Impulse, but Impulse had dropped out last second, and Scar had happened to have a coupon to the lazer tag place, so the three of them went instead.
There was another group in the arena with them, college-age kids, and they all managed to have a good time together. They had seemed like nice kids.
Gem would never stop berating herself for not paying much attention to the way one of them kept staring at Pearl’s antennae. People noticed her—it wasn’t normal at all for an alien to be found on a public world. They usually kept to themselves, as far as Gem knew.
She’d never met one other than Pearl, at any rate, nor had she known anyone who had. In fact, many people didn’t believe they even existed. The Hermitcraft server was split on the issue, with certain people like Ren and Keralis sure of their existence, and others like Cleo and Mumbo fairly dubious.
Pearl had shown up near the beginning of Season 8, and that had put a definitive end to that casual debate.
Gem had honestly forgotten how uncommon aliens were. When you lived with one like Pearl for as long as she had, it became normal. When Pearl had asked about lazer tag, she hadn’t hesitated to find a place where they could go play. She hadn’t even thought about Pearl’s less common features.
“We should’ve seen this coming,” Gem said now, fiddling with the band of her watch. She’d noticed the way that kid was looking at Pearl, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. How could she have ignored it?
Scar shrugged. “Yeah. I forgot that aliens aren’t a thing.”
“Me too.”
“Are you keeping track of how long she’s gone?”
Gem nodded. “Forty minutes, now. How long do you think until Doc and Xisuma find us?”
“Well, they took us to another world,” Scar said contemplatively. “Last time someone got kidnapped, it was . . . Grian, I think? And that only lasted a couple of days, Xisuma tracked him down fast.”
“Do people get kidnapped a lot on Hermitcraft?”
“Usually one per season, at least! Didn’t you notice when I got kidnapped last season?”
“You—what?”
Scar waved nonchalantly. “Yes, yes, I missed a Boatem company meeting for it! I was gone for . . . a week? Maybe less.”
Now that he mentioned it, she did vaguely remember hearing that Scar spent an extended period of time off-world. She didn’t know that he’d been kidnapped, though.
“So it took Xisuma a week to find you?” she said, skipping over Scar’s kidnapping for now.
“Oh, no. Xisuma didn’t find me, I broke out. I mostly stuck around so long because I needed a vacation.”
“So . . . he might not find us within the week?”
“He will! He usually figures it out, at least.”
Gem groaned in frustration, buried her face in her knees. “I hope Pearl doesn't mind waiting.”
She was really trying not to think about Pearl, about what they might have been doing to her. Pearl was strong, that was for sure, but Gem had never seen her in a situation like this. Were they experimenting on her? Observing her?
There was surely some black market out there for aliens. Would it come to that? Were they just showing Pearl to potential buyers?
Were they hurting her?
She couldn’t let herself think about it. Hopefully, Pearl would be returned to them. It was silly to think she wouldn’t be—they were presumably using Gem and Scar as leverage to get Pearl to do what they wanted. As long as the two of them were still here and fine, Pearl was likely also still here somewhere, and not auctioned off to some highest bidder.
That was what was important. Pearl was here, and they were here, and Xisuma was going to get them out of there.
-
If Gem hadn’t been told, she probably wouldn’t have guessed that Pearl was an alien.
There were plenty of hybrids on Hermitcraft—avian, blaze, dog—, so Gem would have willingly believed that Pearl was some kind of bug hybrid. It wasn’t too far-fetched. She had antennae, and spines on her arms, she could crawl up walls.
The only thing that gave her pause was her eyes.
Pearl’s eyes reflected a galaxy. They spun with stars and planets and darkness, and Gem once spent all day comparing an image of their galaxy to the one in Pearl’s eyes and had found nothing similar in them. She wondered sometimes if the galaxy changed, if there was any way to map what her eyes displayed.
She wondered what Pearl saw.
Her eyes were the most beautiful things Gem had ever seen, and now, as she gently brushed Pearl’s hair back from her forehead, she wished she would open those eyes.
“Why are they keeping us around?” Scar murmured, tucking his blanket around Pearl. They only had the one thin blanket each, but Scar just buttoned up his shirt to protect against the cold.
“I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”
Pearl groaned, shifted just slightly in Gem’s arms. “It’s because of me,” she said, not opening her eyes.
“Hm?”
“I get energy. From people. They want me to be . . . healthy.”
“Oh,” Scar said. “You’re an extrovert?”
Pearl snorted, finally opened her eyes. Yep, those stars still spun. “I draw energy from people,” she clarified. “It’s how I stay alive, being near others. They keep you here so that I can eat your delicious energy.”
“Yum,” Gem said.
“Yum yum,” Pearl confirmed. Her antennae wiggled. “I absorb it through my antennae.”
Pearl already looked a little healthier than she had when they first threw her back in the cell, and sure enough, Gem was feeling a bit sleepy.
She hadn’t looked too roughed-up, thankfully. A couple of bandages on her inner elbows and hands, a woozy look on her face. Just some tests run, probably. She’d been gone for about six hours.
But this was only the first day. What would happen tomorrow?
“Maybe we should break ourselves out,” Gem suggested. “It can’t be that hard, right? How many guards were there, Pearl?”
Pearl shrugged, her eyes slipping closed again.
Scar tugged on his sleeves. “We should wait,” he said. “I mean, Xisuma’s going to find us any day!”
Gem bit her tongue. She didn’t like to sit around and wait. She liked to get to the action, do things herself, make a push when others weren’t expecting it.
But Scar felt like they should wait, and they weren’t hurting Pearl too badly. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to wait.
Gem clenched her fist and just pulled Pearl closer.
-
“You know the drill, up against the wall.”
Every day, three people entered the room.
Scar and Gem would scoot to the back of the cell, sitting on the floor with their hands above their heads, pressed to the wall. One man would stand close to them, a stun gun trained on them. The other two would haul Pearl up by her arms and leave, the third backing up behind them. The third man always locked the door.
Gem could easily take out three men. No problem.
Every day, three people entered the room. Four went out.
This was the seventh day, and she was getting really sick of waiting.
“I’m gonna go for it tomorrow,” she told Scar. Scar shook his head rapidly, hiding a yawn.
“No—no, we should wait,” he insisted. “It’s only been a week, Xisuma’s—”
“You said to wait a week,” Gem countered. “I waited a week. Nobody’s found us.”
“We don’t have any weapons!”
“All of the guards have swords and stun guns. I’m GeminiSlay, I can take one down with my bare hands, then take his weapon!”
“I—look, I have a plan if it gets bad,” Scar said, wringing his hands. “But it isn’t bad, yet, and we just have to wait a little longer.”
Gem sighed. Sure, it wasn’t too bad so far, but Pearl was still suffering.
She now had dark bruises trailing up the insides of her arms, the evidence of many blood draws or IVs. Clinical stitched-up lines marked her arms and bare feet, and Gem was sure that she’d been cut open and stitched back up in more places than that, but she held her clothes closed (her shirt had been sliced down the back for easy removal) and shook her head whenever Gem asked if she wanted help with wounds.
She didn’t really talk much, not anymore. She just rested against their shoulders and slept. Gem and Scar usually fell asleep quickly, her drain on their energy pulling them down as well.
Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it could be, but it was still bad. They had spent days here, leaning on one another, their energy dwindling more and more as Pearl required more from them. They only got fed once a day, and the sink in the corner of the room provided water but there was nothing to drink with, and cupping their hands barely got anything.
Plus, Gem had a base to be building. She didn’t have weeks to spend locked up in here.
“I’m going to attack,” Gem decided. Scar grimaced, buried his face into his knees. “Tomorrow, when they come to get Pearl. If you want to help, you can.”
Scar didn’t respond.
So Gem just settled in with her singular blanket and started planning.
-
It went perfectly.
Until it didn’t.
Gem launched herself at the first guard through the door, wresting his stun gun from his grip. She turned it on him, holding down the trigger until he was writhing on the ground. Then she hit the following guard in the face with the hilt of the gun—and she aimed for the third one—
But it wasn’t right.
There wasn’t just a third guard.
A fourth guard followed in, then a fifth.
Coming straight for her.
Before Gem knew what was happening, she was down, electricity burning through her spasming body. She gasped—her vision went red, flashing, the only sound that echoed through her ears was a distant screaming—
Then it ended, and Gem took in a ragged breath, the world returning under layers of static.
“No more standing, for this one,” a too-loud voice growled. Gem wrenched open her eyes, looked up—
A blurry guard was holding a club over her leg—
He swung, landed with a deafening crack, and Gem screamed and screamed and screamed.
She couldn’t breathe past the pain for far too long. Long enough that black spots floated in front of her eyes, long enough that her chest strained with the lack of oxygen. She gritted her teeth hard enough that one of them gave under the strain, but after several swelling moments, she managed to draw in a breath.
“Okay, can you hear me? Gem, Gem, how many fingers am I holding up?”
She blinked several times, but couldn’t quite keep her eyes open. It hurt so much, sickening pulses spreading out from her left leg, and then it hurt even worse and fire flashed through her brain—
“It’s me, it’s okay, I’m just—I think it’s broken, and we should probably set it but I don’t know how to do that—can you look at me, Gem?”
“Hurts,” she managed, tears squeezing out of her closed eyes.
“I know, I know . . . oh, Gem, oh, this is bad—this is so bad—”
Gem swallowed, then finally forced her eyes open.
Scar was there, leaning over her, hands fluttering as he tried to decide what to do first. Eventually, he just kneeled beside her head, pulling her into his lap. Gem couldn’t restrain a small noise in the back of her throat as even that movement shifted her leg a tiny bit, but she leaned into Scar, desperate for any comfort that might help ease the pain. He wiped her forehead with his sleeve, brushing back strands of hair.
“Oh, geez. I’m sorry, Gem. This is pretty bad, huh? I’ve got you, don’t worry.”
“I’m worrying,” she choked out. Scar chuckled nervously.
“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
-
Gem slept most of that day, but by the evening, she was more-or-less conscious and able to think through the pain. Her leg was definitely broken, but they didn’t dare set it, not without a doctor present.
She and Scar didn’t talk. Scar sat in the back corner and picked at his nails, glancing around anxiously every once in a while. Gem rested on the ground, trying not to so much as twitch her leg.
When Pearl was thrown back in, though, they were silent for a different reason.
One of her antennae was missing.
It was cut off, messy stitches closing the wound, and Gem could do nothing but gape as Pearl lay in a slumped heap on the floor, her singular antenna barely twitching.
“Oh, Pearl,” Scar said at long last, breaking the silence and diving to Pearl’s side. “Oh, Pearl. I’m so sorry.”
Pearl’s shoulders trembled in a move so foreign that Gem had never seen it before, couldn’t reconcile it with her Pearl—
She was crying. Gem saw it, briefly, as Scar lifted her into his lap—Pearl’s eyes leaked sparkling tears, each one like a miniature star rolling down her cheek.
Then Pearl’s face was hidden in Scar’s chest, and Gem almost believed that she had imagined it. Pearl didn’t cry—all the time that they’ve been here, she’d smiled and laughed almost like it was any other day (albeit more tired and with a few more winces).
If Pearl was crying, that meant things were really bad.
“They—” Pearl choked out, voice muffled by Scar’s shirt.
“Sh, sh,” he hushed. “We’ve got you.”
“They—they’re mapping my eyes,” she cried. “They can’t—they’ll find—they’ll find my home!”
Gem had never asked Pearl where she came from, how she found herself on Hermitcraft, and she never shared that information voluntarily.
Maybe it was to protect her past.
Maybe it was to protect her family.
“Scar,” Gem whispered. When he looked up, she tried to convey to him that this was serious, far too serious to wait any longer. She nodded her head toward Pearl, then toward her own leg.
Scar’s face fell. He bit his lip, glanced between Pearl and Gem.
After a moment, he nodded to himself, coming to some sort of decision.
“I’ll get us out of here,” Scar murmured, gently stroking Pearl’s hair. “I’ve got it, don’t you worry about a thing.”
-
When the guards came in the next morning, Scar didn’t move from his spot against the left wall of the room, swathed in the darkest shadows that the cell had.
“Against the back wall,” the one with the stun gun commanded, aiming it at him.
Scar smiled, just visible in the darkness. It was a smile that would be considered friendly, jovial, if the person didn’t know Scar.
Gem knew Scar. She recognized that smile from a million miles away. It was the smile he wore when he was about to close a shady deal, when someone played right into his hands, when he was in games of death.
It was hungry.
“Move!”
“No, thank you,” said Scar cordially. “I think you’ll move, actually. Right back out of here, if you want to live.”
Gem blinked, surprised at his level threats. She hugged Pearl a bit tighter, her friend limp in her arms.
The guard snorted. “Yeah, right. You have until the count of three to get against that wall.”
Scar sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said regretfully.
“One.”
“Y’know, it’s always count of three. Why not count of five? Or six?”
“Two.”
“Just wondering! Gem, you might want to close your eyes.”
“Three.”
The guard strode toward Scar, gun out, finger on the trigger.
Gem did not close her eyes. Pearl didn’t look, face still buried in Gem’s shoulder, but Gem watched. She wasn’t afraid of a little bloodshed, and she had no clue what Scar was planning.
Did he really think that he could take the guards on his own, when Gem had failed so definitively just the day before? What did he have that she didn’t?
Suddenly, Scar’s eyes shone from the shadows.
And they shone blue.
Scar leapt at the guard, fangs—since when did he have fangs?—bared in a snarl, and Gem barely had time to blink before Scar’s teeth were ripping into the guard’s throat, tearing it out entirely with frankly impressive jaw strength.
The other two men shouted—one guard got out his own stun gun and hit Scar with a bolt of electricity, but Scar took it in stride without so much as a flinch. His skin rippled, fading blue to match his eyes, and as Gem watched, leathery blue wings burst from his back, shredding his shirt.
The guards barely had a chance to scream before Scar was on top of them, slashing through their flesh with his sharp teeth and black claws (sprouting from his fingertips, still growing longer and longer). He destroyed them in a matter of seconds, blood and viscera flying everywhere, spraying across Gem’s face. She choked, wiped off her eyes, then noticed, with a sense of growing horror, that Scar had stopped to—to eat one of the bodies, digging a hole into his chest and pulling out fistfuls of flesh with reckless abandon.
She opened her mouth to call to him, but no sound came out. Her lips trembled, her breath caught in her throat.
Was this creature still Scar? Blue and terrifying, wings flapping and long claws stuffed into a body, his pointed teeth dripping with blood. His hair was the same, his features still Scar’s (but for the eyes, piercing and ice-blue), the scars on his face unchanged.
Would he recognize her if she spoke to him? Or would he attack them, too?
How had Scar become this—this monster?
Another guard ran up to the cell, but instead of entering, they slammed the door shut, locking it.
That didn’t seem to do more than mildly annoy Scar and distract him from his meal. He growled animalistically, then scampered (and he moved oddly, launching himself from all-fours to flight in a couple of steps, his hands and feet pushing him along even as his wings carried him) to the door. Without warning, he stabbed his claws into the metal of the door and tore through it like it was nothing more than a leaf of paper.
Then he turned, his glowing eyes lighting on Gem and Pearl.
Gem couldn’t help it—she flinched away, pulling Pearl closer to herself. She didn’t know if Scar was a danger to her or not, but after what she just saw, she wasn’t prepared to be seen as a friend.
Oddly enough, Scar’s face twisted in regret. He offered a shrug—rather downplayed by the blood coating him. “Sorry,” he said, and his voice was entirely Scar’s (if with a bit of a lisp from the longer teeth). “I didn’t want—I didn’t want it to come to this.”
Gem wasn’t a squeamish person, but she still avoided looking down at the mutilated bodies. She couldn’t stand to think of literally eating a person—what had Scar become?
“I—I’ll explain later,” Scar said, as if he had heard her thoughts. “I’ll go find a communicator. And destroy their stuff.”
He dashed off down the hall.
Pearl moved against her, tipping her head back. “I’m tired,” she mumbled.
“I know,” Gem said, trying not to gag at the scent of blood that had begun to permeate the room. She swallowed, pushing down her fear. “We’re going home. Scar’s getting us home.”
That was all Pearl needed to hear. She fully slumped against Gem, dead asleep. Gem gently rubbed her back, buried her nose in her hair (carefully avoiding the stump of her antenna).
She hoped they got out of there quickly.
-
Pearl spent a lot more time resting than she ever had. Gem figured it was something similar to chronic fatigue, now that she was missing half of her main source of energy.
When she asked if it would grow back, Pearl had just shrugged.
“Only if I go back home.”
“Are you going to do that?”
“Probably not. It’s far away.”
Pearl still managed to create massive builds practically overnight, though, so Gem assumed it didn’t bother her too much.
Gem’s leg was still recovering, a month out from their week in captivity. It had been broken severely enough that she’d needed pins to hold the bones together, which put her at six weeks minimum in the cast. It limited her sparring and building abilities, but she did what she could on crutches to keep her skills from getting rusty.
She couldn’t spend all her time practicing, though, in order to let her body recover, so she ended up filling a lot of her time with meditation. Her impatience is what got her leg broken, after all, and she’d been beating herself up about it ever since.
Scar joined her, sometimes, at various points of interest across her base where she could look out over the valley and Pearl across the way. He would sit beside her in silence, oddly contemplative as he, too, stared at Pearl’s builds.
Gem understood, now, why Scar hadn’t wanted to act except in case of emergency. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her like that, either.
He had fully transformed back into something human (she wasn’t sure that he was human, though) by the time rescue arrived, and Cub had taken one look at the gore and taken Scar straight to his base on Hermitcraft, ignoring Xisuma’s insistence that he get checked over for injuries.
Now, as they sat on a hill, a couple of feet between them, Gem wondered what Cub knew.
Scar sighed beside her.
She wasn’t scared of him. She wondered if that was what he thought, that he kept sitting with her and sending her terribly guilty and forlorn looks because he expected to be faced with fear and disgust.
She wasn’t scared. It had been—well, it had been a shock, and she still hadn’t quite gotten the image of Scar eating a human body out of her head, but she wasn’t scared.
She just felt . . . awkward, bringing it up. Scar clearly hadn’t wanted them to see that part of him. He probably felt vulnerable, rejected. Why he kept hanging around her, she didn’t know, but she had to get rid of the barrier between them.
“How’s Scarland coming along?” she asked one day, kicking her good leg a little.
As simple as it sounded, that did it. That broke the ice, and Scar started rambling about something or other, and the next morning when she settled down to meditate, Scar was already there with blueprints in hand.
She stared at his fingers as he pointed out different aspects of his design, her mind’s eye momentarily seeing a blackened claw glistening with blood.
Well. If she ever needed help to murder someone, she knew who she was calling.
#whumptober2024#no.7#only for emergencies#hermitcraft smp#fic#blood and injury#hcs9#hermitcraft season 9#geminitay#hermitcraft#pearlescentmoon#goodtimeswithscar#gtws#hermitcraft fanfic#mas writes#there's a supply closet on the other side of the wall at work#where i am at#and it's so scary when people go in there#it's show week my good friends#but if all goes well i will still be posting#lmk what you think#love you guys
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The Master And Margarita Jacket
(Matthew Sweet’s Doctor Who version…but with a frisson of Bulgakov’s)
It’s done! With every bit of unphotographical glittery metallic paint that I can’t capture on camera even if my iphone skills weren’t rubbish.
@spoonietimelordy, @rearranging-deck-chairs, @bearinabandana and everyone else who Did The Reading of that one ‘I Am The Master’ novel but I’ve forgotten to tag because i’m so sleep deprived i can’t think any more but hopefully other people will, assemble!
Detailed closeups and explanations (with some spoilers) below:
Starting front top right side (face on). -Margarita herself, biting a mushroom. A more Cockatoo beak than Macaw, with red face instead of white, to make what exactly she is more mysterious. -The Master Who logo here is just gold, any shading didn’t look right when it was so thin.
Front top right pocket. Purple, of course.
-Next section down are these three. The ‘Never Stop Growing’ patch is my second favourite patch of the bunch. So many Master Themes, and plot relevant. -Then the little ‘Best Buds’ with the heart in the middle. I was inordinately proud of that idea. (Buds, budding, bigenerated vibe). -And then ‘Obscene Lotus’. That’s mentioned early in the book, and while it’s just described as a big purplish lotus, there’s so much sexual charging in that scene that, well, you gotta.
Me, reusing the ‘budding’ pun in a different capacity? It’s more likely than you think.
-The cover of the Penguin Clothbound Classic version of the original The Master And Margarita, that took multiple days to complete and so much agony. -The patch is a blank one that I bought, then painted the design to look like one of those stamps people sometimes put in books. Painted the border the same colour, then tea-stained it to look like old paper. Certainly in real life the colour comes out nicely. I couldn’t find his autograph (and sadly there’s an unrelated artist with the same name lol) but he got his doctorate in Wilkie Collins so I just looked up examples of that guy’s writing and tried to give it a bit of that vibe. Hopefully it’s the thought that counts. But hey, if anyone ever meets him and gets me a signature sample I can just redo it.
General mushroom patch - I like the fire kind of vibe and the looming.
To the other side!
So. You’re asking what’s with the daisy theme. Fair. So Margarita is also another name for a daisy in some languages. I choose to lean into that because it’s also the widely known symbol of Three - with that scene where he talks to Jo and recounts how a hermit living on a mountain helped dispel his depression by getting him to focus on the beauty of the flower (“and it was the most daisiest daisy”). Given that Three is essentially a character in the book, this felt like the vibe we’re going for. It’s perennial. It also is a healer of bruises and wounds, how can that not be relevant meta wise too to the Master’s new companion, hm? And okay yes, Mikhail does say he’s not a botanist, but if you can think of another way to get that message across other than botanical illustration page…
I like the patch because lightbulb, idea, full of mushrooms etc.
-‘I Am The Master’ being the name of the book the story is contained in, plus Fun With Identity. -Next the one bit of Real Art that I attempted to copy in glittery acrylics - Magritte’s ‘The Treachery Of Images’ or more commonly known ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe’. The story not only of the Master’s experiences recently, but the story’s themes of hallucinations and deceptions; as well as being the symbol of Russian!Brigadier. -This patch is great isn’t it? A play on the Master’s apparent alcoholism or Russian blending in as you prefer, and of course, The Lighthouse of Martin!Doctor fame.
-Mikhail’s guitar for playing Brown Sugar and other ominous inference songs. -The formula triangle of Love, Food, and Music (I couldn’t think of a self-evident way to show his approach to food - Russian dumplings are, well, not exactly distinct). On its side so the glittery pink triangle points in a certain direction because he’s escaped places and I can do ominous inferences too Sweet. -Maybe controversial? There is a failed love story component in here though, that I just couldn’t leave unmarked. The Doctor, K’vo, and Jo all have their parts to play in that.
Now for the arms:
Here’s the right-side looking-on arm. -I repainted this mushroom patch to be the orange and green of K’vo’s. -You’ve already seen the long image of it above, so here’s just a snippet closeup of the motif that goes along both arms. Daisies linked in a chain with the words ‘daisiest daisy’ (if you wonder why everything’s outlined by the way, a) i like the style, and b) it makes glitter infinitely more legible and clearer to see if there’s a dark matt border around it breaking it up, especially with something as variable coloured as denim). There’s the sunflower in the middle because Margarita loves her sunflower seeds.
This is the other arm. Margarita holding a margarita in a margarita. What’s more to add? I used my shittest white (mixed with my fabric medium as everything else has been at every step) rather than @yesokayiknow’s excellent suggestion of Liquitex, which has saved me everywhere else, including those light patches. But here shitty kids basics acrylic is translucent enough to do some excellent work pretending to be glass and ice. The parrot patch has been altered to make the beak entirely black and her face red instead of macaw white, to keep her species ambiguous as literary theme demands.
To the back!
This Master Who logo is bigger, so it has the Master’s purple highlights like bruising.
Here is a small UNIT patch I modified to be a Russian one, globe focused on their continent (roughly). Sweet just translated the word ‘unit’ for Russian!Brigadier’s group, and the text is the re-cyrilliced version of that.
Skipping to the bottom…
Here referencing O’s collection of Doctor Information, Sweet adding to that with having distinct scrapbooks. ‘Manuscripts Don’t Burn’ is a line from Bulgakov’s The Master And Margarita (spoken by Satan in fact, mhmm) and became something of a rallying cry for oppressed Russian artists. I have ‘Author Unknown’ for the obvious meta with his and the Doctor’s memories, and likewise, the fact that flames are clearly present and burning lets the viewer come to whatever conclusion they like. #133 was chosen for the simple fact that in my copy of Bulgakov’s novel, and the one depicted on the front of the jacket, it is page 133 which starts the chapter The Hero Enters, where we meet The Master who has renounced all other names (who is very much, as Interference notes, the Doctor). They are glitter paint titles done on Hemline repair patches, black, brown, white, and navy blue. I know anything too painty on that area of the back will risk a lot of wear, and these are easily replaced when necessary (if still hours of lettering).
To the left most side…
This was the most expensive patch I bought, £12. But worth it. The mushroom stalk is silk.
Here I depicted in silhouette the scene of the Master climbing up to the Doctor on the giant mushroom. I chose silhouette so as not to draw the eye too much. I also added some 2ply black-black glitter cotton as part of his climbing equipment, attached on by some silver stitches for the…things I can’t remember the name of. It gives it a bit more 3D effect, but also keeps the thread close enough it shouldn’t pull on anything.
And at its base we have a reference to Mikhail’s chosen middle name. I chose to believe it’s relevant, Sweet’s too deep into this for it not to be. This is a cover I edited to highlight the namesake who actually travelled Russia and collected the tales of this book, and indeed, it does include the story of Koschei The Deathless. I edited the robe to be red instead of its original yellow, and added the quintessential Time Lord collar. But I think it’s perfectly passable. This is iron on transfer paper (dark) onto a very light grey polycotton to turn it into a patch. It…*cough* hasn’t had its edges finished or strictly been attached yet, but that’s a bit of handwork I can do as and when.
So finally back up to the middle
I’ve expanded out @spoonlesss-artbook fantastic angel-winged Margarita’s Master art. The Redbubble bag was only that big as it was (hemmed with bostik fabric glue like a true pro and attached as a panel) so it cut off a little, and it didn’t go the whole way anyway, so now we get some endings of the feathers, some all the way up to the arm of the jacket. I tried to blend it into the fire, one creature of both. And trying to get a multidimensional feel, boundary breaking. And again, very glittery irl so plays very well with the fire theme. It was fun when it came to colour-matching particularly the blue wing at the top, because the glitter gives it a bit of a sheen. I blunted it with a few careful washes of black so it still sparkles but is the right colour in most angles.
The Redbubble edit cuts @spoonietimelordy’s signature, so I copied it from the original and moved it over to the left side in some sparkly silver. Also internet doxxing my real life self on the bottom of the back as my own signature.
Doesn’t look like the sort of thing that would take weeks when you see it all together, but I’m really happy with it. I’m so grateful for everyone who’s shown their brilliant art to me and shared posts about painting all these years, cus it allowed me to absorb stuff and let me come out of the gate swinging! It feels thoroughly addictive. Even if I only know ‘use tiny brush’ for almost everything and glitter metallic is great for hiding sins. (And a ‘Ha!’ in the face of my mother keeping me away from it my whole life because of mess - I never got even a single speck on any clothes that wasn’t this jacket. I could’ve been doing this for years rather than just picking up a brush at the age of thirty-damn-one. But at least I’ve got it now).
And thanks to Matthew Sweet for feeding the worms in my brain too.
#the master and margarita#i am the master#matthew sweet#doctor who#dw fanart#the master#dhawan!master#jacket painting#mine#:)#(and you never ask a gentleman how much his patches cost)
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No Take Backs
Word Count-3738
Summary- Staying with your brother and his best friend and roommate, you find yourself rediscovering some old feelings for your childhood friend.
Pairing- Brother's BFF!Jongho x Fem!Reader
Trope- Brother's bff to lovers AU
Warnings- Vulgarity, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), MINORS DNI 18+
For all my lovely Jongho lovers, I hope you enjoy! This man deserves so much love! Especially @ssaboala 🤍💜🤍
Thank you to @cafekitsune for banners below!
Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @babesindestroyland @lemonhongjoong @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @thelargefrye @sanjoongie @kwanisms @ssaboala @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @pyeonghongrie-main
“No no, not that….Mingi….shit! NO HIT THE …damn it….the turret, Mingi….” Jongho sighs. You can’t help but stand back and cover your mouth as you watch your brother and his best friend play at their computers. You’ll never know why Jongho bothered playing with your brother. Mingi wasn’t very good, but you supposed he was fun to be around.
“I’m here.” you mumble, knowing the two were too involved to bother greeting you. Sure enough, Jongho was explaining to Mingi what he should have done and of course ... .Mingi was explaining how he did actually do the thing that you knew very well he didn’t. Whatever it was….you didn’t pay much attention to the games they played.
Tossing your bag on the couch and shaking your head, you tuck your spare key into your pocket. Jongho and Mingi had moved in together after high school and they’d been roommates ever since. Now that you’d move back to town for the summer, you were going to crash here since they had the extra room.
You weren’t sure what that was going to mean for the two of them, or how well you’d sleep with the two of them around. Jongho was fairly respectful, he always had been when you’d been growing up, but Mingi tended to get loud when he was playing games. Smiling at their antics you watch them for a few moments before you grab your bag and head into the guest room.
A bit later after putting your few things away, tossing on some sweats and a tank top, you head back out. It had been quiet and you notice just Jongho sitting at the computer with his headset on. Wondering where your brother had gone, you walk up next to your long time friend.
Smiling as he is so into what he’s doing that you can’t help yourself, you lean down and blow on the back of his neck. The high pitched yell that escapes him has you laughing like a moron as he spins, pulling the headset down. His eyes are huge before he notices you and he shakes his head.
“Y-...Y/n??” he stutters, his cheeks turning pink. Oh my god, he’s even more adorable than ever, you think, smiling. Pinching his cheek, you lean down close to him. “Did I scare you?” you ask, grinning and he pushes his chair back, a scowl coming over his face. “What the hell, when did you get here?” he asks, rubbing his neck. You can’t help but notice the tinge of red on his neck too and smirk. He was still so easy to tease.
“I’ve been here since you were explaining to my moron of a brother what to do with some kind of turret thing.” you say and he just looks at you, then shakes his head. “Why do you still play with him?” you ask and he just sighs. “I ask myself that all the time, but here I am.” You just smile knowingly and pet his hair. “My poor teddy bear.” you say pouting and he brushes your hand away. “Cut it out, we’re too old for that.” he says but you can’t help but notice the little twitch of a smile.
“Aww….fine then, I’ll just ignore you like every other boring guy. I’ll go find another cuddly bear to -” Coughing, he stands up, taking your hand and putting it back on his head. “Fine fine, I’ll be your bear.” he sighs, rolling his eyes.
“Yay!” you say, clapping. He gives you his adorable gummy smile and you can’t help but feel the tiny twinge of a long forgotten crush creep up. Shaking your head, you just brush it off and make your way into the kitchen. “I bet you two haven’t eaten anything but take out and ramen for awhile huh?” you ask and he makes his way over to the small area, sitting on a stool to watch you pick through their supplies.
“You know us so well. Mingi hasn’t shut up about wanting your cooking again though. I can’t say that I disagree either.” He smiles again and you lean over to pinch his cheek. “Well I’ve missed cooking for you guys.” Frowning, you pull open a drawer and quickly grab a notepad and pen, starting a list.
“UNFORTUNATELY, I will have to go shopping for stuff, since you guys have almost nothing but junk.” you busy yourself making the list and he just watches you, making chit chat. Mingi comes barreling back in the door and grabs something off the table. “OH! HEY Y/N! BE BACK-” he yells, then runs back out.
“Ooookay, weirdo.” you say, just shaking your head and returning to the list. “Not going to even ask.” you mutter. “Ok! Me too, I’ll be back in a bit.” you say, going to grab your bag and shoes. “I’ll come with you. I can help carry everything back with you.” he offers and you smile, nodding. “Thanks, you’re always so sweet and reliable. Can I just clone you?” you ask and he smiles at you.
You have an uneventful shopping trip and true to his word, Jongho carries everything back, not even letting you carry a light bag. “Seriously, are you trying to impress me, sir?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He grins and leans over to you. “Why? Is it working?” he asks slyly and you can’t help but feel your heart skip for just a split second. “Hmm…it may be …” you say, returning his sly smirk.
Clearing his throat, you both make your way into the dark apartment. “What the hell…” Jongho says, then sets everything down. As you busy yourself putting things away, Jongho pulls out his phone. “Idiot. He forgot he had to work overnight tonight. No wonder.” he snorts and you burst out into laughter.
“He still hasn’t been able to figure out his alarm on his phone?” you ask and Jongho shakes his head. “I’ve tried….even when I do it for him, he loses his phone. You know how it is.” You just nod, starting to prep veggies. “Oh I do…I do..” you smile. Jongho comes to join you, listening to directions as you tell him how to cut things.
“You’re still so damned good at everything, aren’t you? Doesn’t it get annoying?” you ask, laughing. He just smiles down at you, and you can’t help but notice how small you feel compared to him. “There’s maybe a few things I’ve not mastered yet. But not many.” he says, and from anyone else it would sound cocky. But you’ve known him long enough to know the truth…he really was just good at everything he did. “Somehow I imagine if you truly wanted to do them, you’d do them well.” you mutter, snorting. He just shakes his head at you as you continue to cook.
Once everything was done and you’d both eaten, you decide to go change into some pjs. When you come back out you notice he is just watching something on his computer. “Hey…if you’re busy I can-” “Nope!” he says, pulling off his headset and getting up. “Want to watch a movie or something?” he asks and you just shrug, going to flop onto the couch.
“Sure, I don’t know anything I want to see though…” you say and he sits next to you. “Ok, we can just browse..” he says, flipping through some apps to find something. “Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been?” you suggest, turning towards him, pulling your leg under yourself. He smiles, glancing over at you.
“How is the singing thing going? You really need to do something with that gorgeous voice of yours.” You say, letting your head fall to the side and admiring him. He glances at you again, noticing that you’re staring. “Uh…yeah well, I’m still doing some training stuff…it’s still…Why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been up to? What’s new?” he asks and you smirk, knowing he hated talking about himself.
“Hmm…nothing new. School is fine, one more semester then I should be back permanently unless you know, something incredible happens.” you say. Pulling the remote from his hand, you toss it to the side. “I don’t want to watch anything. I did have….a weird question for you.” you say, biting your lip. It would be odd to ask Jongho about this but…you didn’t really have anyone but the girls in your dorm back at Uni.
Talking to a guy would probably be your best bet. “I…so…” you try to start and he wrinkles his eyebrows, turning towards you, mimicking your posture to listen. “Tell me…What’s going on?” he asks and you already feel comforted. Even when you were young, Jongho was always your big teddy bear, even when you and Mingi fought, he was always on your side. His presence alone was comforting for you.
“Ok don’t tell Mingi I talked to you about this…” you say and he nods, concentrating on you. “I…sort of dated and I had some issues and I won’t get into them but like…” you trail off as his eyes darken and his lips pull down. “Dated?” he asks and you nod, scratching your neck as you look away. “Yeah…guy was kind of a jerk but like….I’m over it! Anyhow-” He cuts you off, grabbing your hand. “What do you mean?” He asks and his eyes are searching yours.
“Just uh…I don’t want to get into it!” you laugh, realizing how serious he’s being. “Probably not a good idea to mention it, sorry. I forgot it’s probably weird to think of me as anything but Mingi’s annoying little sister.” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. His gaze was not leaving you and you felt oddly vulnerable all of a sudden.
“That’s not what I was thinking, Y/n. Not at all. I was wondering if some bastard hurt you and who I was going to have to break in half.” he says, completely deadpan. You feel your stomach flip at his demeanor and you swallow, realizing your tiny crush may not have been completely squashed at all. “Jongho…I’m fine…just don’t look at me….like…that.” you whisper and he frowns, cocking his head to the side. “Like what?” he asks, confused.
You can’t help but let out a small laugh, chewing your lip. “Like you want to protect me as more than your friends sister….I’ll get weird ideas…” you mutter, then you redden even more as you realize you said that out loud. Instead of laughing at you though, you’re met with silence as his gaze bores into you. You can’t help but keep looking away, growing even more confused at his stillness. Then his eyes change, like he’s come to a decision before he is grasping your hand, pulling you towards him, his mouth meeting yours.
You go completely still in shock for a split second before you throw your arms around his neck and push yourself onto him. The sudden change in your attitude has him falling backwards, scrambling to grab you and hold you as you pry his lips apart with your tongue. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips against yours. His tentative hold on your waist all of a sudden becomes a strong grip, his hands sliding around you. One hand slides up your back, his hand cradling the back of your neck. “Fuck-” he manages as he nips your bottom lip, then your hands are in his hair.
You used to have dreams of what it would be like to kiss Jongho, far back when you were teenagers. But those were little girl dreams and this was the real thing. And it was so much better than you’d ever imagined. But never once had you imagined he’d actually be the one to kiss you first. You always assumed he’d never seen you that way. But his mouth and his tongue and…certain parts pressing against you as you pressed against him were saying something else.
“Jongho-” you moan against his mouth and then he’s tearing his lips from yours, pushing himself back even as you reach for him. “Shit….Y/n…I’m sorry I-” he says but you just crawl towards him, straddling him as he lays back on the couch, his eyes wide. “No you don’t, don’t you dare….” you say, seating yourself on him so you can feel his arousal against your ass.
“Don’t you even, Choi Jongho. Don’t you dare do something like that, then turn around and try to take it back. You can’t unopen this door.” you say, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your waistband, pulling up your tank top with your other hand. You only have to bring his fingers to the flesh of your hip before he’s sitting back up, taking control as he dips his hand into your pajama bottoms. His large hand squeezes a handful of your ass as you grind against him.
“Shit…” he mutters as you run your fingers through his hair, tipping his head back as you gently pull the strands. “I want you, Choi Jongho.” you state and he closes his eyes briefly, seeming to steel himself as you wait for him to come to terms with what is about to happen. “I’m not taking no as an answ-” you start but then he’s flipping you onto your back, settling himself between your parted thighs. Your eyes go as wide as your smile as you look up at the man hovering above you.
“Oh my…” you breathe out, your eyes dancing as his stern expression brings a dampness to your panties you hadn’t expected. “Jongho…” you whisper as he dips down to take your mouth with his, propping himself up on his elbow. His other hand slips up your top, his fingertips skimming along your side and making you shiver. “I wasn’t saying no, princess…” he murmurs, kissing down your jawline. He draws back to look down at you as his hand cups your breast, your lips parting in a moan as he lightly pinches your nipple through the thin material of your bralette. “Then…what were you stopping for…?” you say, his touch bringing little pants from you.
“Coming to terms with what I’ve wanted to do for a long fucking time.” he says and your eyes fly open as he yanks your top up, exposing your tits so he can admire you. “Fuck…you’re so sexy…” he murmurs, then he’s taking your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around on it. “You’ve- oh my god-” “Shhh, talk later….my mouth is full…” he mutters between moving to your other breast, sucking that nipple into his mouth. You raise your hips a bit, trying to get him closer, wanting to feel him against you.
“Patience, princess…” he says and you can’t help but smirk at the cute nickname he’d given you when you were younger. You tug at his top and he sits up to help you remove it. You admire his chest, always hidden under so much clothing but you knew he was athletic and it showed. You run your hands down his bare torso and he hisses as you get to his pants. “Jongho…” you moan out, licking your lips.
He just watches as you unbutton, then unzip his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers. Your eyes light up as his thick, rigid cock is freed, standing big and proud in front of you. Unable to stop yourself, you sit up enough to take just the head of his cock into your mouth, moaning softly as you taste the saltiness of his precum wet your tongue. His hand buries itself into your hair as you roll your tongue around, mimicking what he’d done to your nipple as you look up at him.
The sight of you with your mouth on him, your top yanked up and your tits exposed has him groaning loudly, gasping as you wrap your hand around him to stroke. You cup his balls in your other hand and as you watch him and slowly take him until he is hitting the back of your throat, he has to pull you off with a small cry.
“Stop…fuck…” he whispers, standing up and yanking you up with him. He pulls off your top and bralette, tossing them, then he’s yanking down your pajama bottoms, kicking his own pants off in the process. Then he’s backing you up against the wall. “Tell me now, if this is ok. I want to hear you say again that you want this. I need to make sure…” he is growling out and there’s nothing in the world that would make you say anything but, “Yes, fuck yes, I need you inside of me right n-” you are pawing at him, as he lifts you and presses your back into the wall. Your legs wrap around him as he cuts you off with his tongue, delving into your mouth.
He holds you effortlessly as he slips his hand between you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds, soaked with need for him. “Oh my god…” he moans and you yank his hair. “Stop playing and fuck me.” you demand, biting his lip. He just nods, hoisting you up a bit, his hand leaving your drenched core to guide his thick cock against you, slipping back and forth across your slick to tease you. “Jongho!!!!” you cry as you wiggle, desperate for him.
“Patience, little girl…” he whispers as he presses himself into you, stretching you with how thick he is. “God, you’re so tight….” you nod, your hands clenching his shoulders as he eases himself into you. “Fuck baby girl…talk to me…tell me you’re doing alright…” he says through clenched teeth and you nod, leaning back so you can see eachother’s faces.
“Jongho..you feel so good….please….more…more…” you moan and he drops his head onto your shoulder. “Yeah, more?” he asks and you cry out as he holds your ass and plunges the rest of the way into you. At your sharp cry, he stops momentarily, but then he starts pulling out, just to drive himself deep into you again. This draws out another yell, your voice cracking as he fills you completely, his dick so big you can feel it almost in your womb.
“MORE!” you scream, and he moans loudly into your neck as he plows into you mercilessly. The feeling of being suspended with just his body holding you up as you dizzy, your abdomen tightening quickly and you grip his hair, his shoulders as you as thrown into a spiral as your orgasm washes over you.
He leans back to watch you cum, his face completely flushed with passion as you clench around him, drenching him as he continues his steady pace. Your whimpers have him slowing, then he’s gently letting you down on your legs. “Turn around for me, gorgeous. I want to see your pretty ass while I fuck you…” You had steadied yourself for a moment but his words make you go weak again and he’s chuckling in your ear as he turns you to place your hands on the wall.
“That’s it, don’t worry I’ve got you…” he murmurs, placing his hand on your lower back to bend you forward. You look back at him and bite your lip as his hand slips down the front of you, his fingers seeking out your puffy clit as he guides himself back into you. “Jongho…oh god…you…” you try to say but he’s just humming at you, almost cooing as he buries himself completely within you. His free hand presses against your lower belly as he starts thrusting into you and he gasps. “Fuck, I call feel myself inside of you, so nice and deep..” he groans out and you can only whine as he picks up the pace.
“Jongho…so big…fuck me harder…more…” you cry out and his noises go from heavy breathing and moans to sharper cries as you talk to him. “Yeah? You like when I fuck you? You like me deep inside your pretty pussy?” he asks and you scream as his fingers rub your swollen nub faster, driving you over into another orgasm.
“Jongho! C-ccuu-mming…” you manage, gritting your teeth. You look back at him again, watching his face contort as you clamp around him and his eyes fly open, then squeeze shut as he gasps, his hips stuttering. “Ah fuc-” he chokes out but then he’s pulling out of you, and you watch as he cums all over your ass, the white ropes of cum shooting out in spurts. “Mmm cum for me….so fucking hot..” you moan, as he jerks himself off, milking every last drop. You can’t help yourself as you turn around and drop to your knees, taking him in your hand to make sure he’s completely empty. He groans, then almost squeaks as you take him in your mouth, tasting his release and savoring it as you look up at him.
“Oh my god….you’re killing me…” he moans, then has to gently pull you off as he hisses, too sensitive after cumming so hard. “Mmmm…you taste amazing…” you murmur, licking your lips and his eyes roll back as he grunts at you. “Oh man…yeah…you’re going to be the death of me.”
You stand up and he pulls you into his arms, his mouth capturing yours in a deep, intimate kiss. “Mmm…” you murmur, happy in his strong embrace. “Do me a favor, princess.” he says, pulling back to brush your hair back. “Hmm?” you manage, your lips trying to find his again. He laughs and pokes your nose. “Don’t date anyone else. You’re mine.” he says, and you open your eyes, smiling happily.
“As if that was even a thought, you big idiot.” you say and he shakes his head at you. “But…who’s gonna tell Mingi?” you say and his eyes go wide. You smirk and run towards the bathroom. “Not it! Now get in here and clean me up!” you yell and he’s immediately chasing you.
“When I catch you, it’s not cleaning up we will be doing…” he growls and your screams as he catches you echo through the empty apartment. Finally, your childhood crush had turned into a fully bloomed love for your brother’s best friend.
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