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luvseisagi · 2 days ago

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— this one's for you.

read part 1 here.

ft. isagi yoichi x reader. wc. 4k

summary. it all started with breakfast, and now you're quite literally the main character of an american teen romcom movie —whats next, a goal dedicated to you? content. fem!reader, fem pronouns used, fluff, crack, slow burn ?? they don't end up dating like officialy but kinda ?? isagis parents are like . very present here. college students!au. reader realizes shes down bad. isagi plays for the uni team and looks very hot doing it. author's note. remember i said id post this soon. well. uni's got me again im SO sorry, but here it is!! idk ive been meaning to write this for a while now but im not sure if i like it at all now ?? i read it too much i guess, hope u do like it tho <3

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) !

fuck. you think to yourself, going up the stairs as fast as you can. fuck fuck fuck.

you nimbly and silently dodge the faded blue and yellowish-white seats, crouching slightly, trying not to disturb the crowd already settled in the stands, muttering “sorry, i’m sorry, excuse me" every time you step on someone's foot or have to ask them to stand up so you can pass.

you get a couple of judgmental glances and a few retorts, but nothing embarrasses you more than finally reaching the front row of the stands and approaching the only empty seat next to a couple who are staring at you intently.

isagi's parents.

you hurriedly sit down after the person on your other side clears their throat —you’re blocking their view.

"hello," you dare to whisper, tilting your head forward before making eye contact with them, as if that way they can ignore the red hue that's invaded your entire face. "i'm sorry i was late. i got mixed up with the subway and didn't leave home early enough."

that's not true. you've been fully prepared —makeup done and outfit on—, hours before you had to leave. however, ten minutes before you had to get off the subway, you’d looked in the mirror and decided your hair wasn't right, so you had pulled out the hair straightener and brush again. what was supposed to be a simple touch-up turned into a nearly half-hour hairstyling session in front of your bathroom mirror.

and all your effort only served to have the warm summer wind ruffle your hair as you stepped outside.

"yn, right?" isagi's mother —undoubtedly related to him, they have the same eyes— gives you a warm look that makes your heartbeat slow down a bit. "don't worry, the game's just starting, they’re late too.”

"nice to finally meet you, yn." isagi's father peeks out from behind his wife and waves in greeting, also flashing a smile that's exactly like his son's. "yoichi has told us a lot about you."

you reciprocate his gesture with another smile, and turn your head toward the field in front of you. you have a perfect view of all the players from the spot they've reserved for you —high above the field, but not so high that the teams look like simple colored dots on a green blanket. you assume the ones wearing blue are your university's team, since that’s the college’s official color.

isagi has told you about his teammates and practice many times, but somehow he never mentioned any detail about the team's kit or his number.

you're a little embarrassed to ask out loud.

"uh..." you whisper again, leaning slightly closer to isagi's mother without taking your eyes off the field. "what number is yoichi?"

"yoichi, hm?" there's a hint of amusement in his voice, teasing you for using his son's first name. "he's number eleven —there, near the long-haired redheaded boy. do you see him?"

your gaze follows her directions and rests on the blue back of number eleven. his back is turned, but his disheveled black hair and the way he walks are impossible to mistake.

“oh! yeah, i see him now, thanks." you smile, and your chronic need to fill all silences forces you to add something more “i've really been wanting to see him play."

the woman turns her head toward you, looking at you with the same kind expression you see on her son's face every morning.

"believe me, if you were eager, he was even more so.” she says. “he won't stop talking about you."

and that sentence is enough to make you not say anything else for a while.

you started to suspect that you liked Isagi a couple of weeks ago, before your sudden disappearance —when you panicked because you had no way of contacting him to let him know that you had a family emergency. you’d been chatting since tuesday, at all hours of the day, every day until the game, and he hadn't pressed too much about what happened, probably so you wouldn’t feel bad. from what you could gather, he had been waiting for you every day —but nothing serious, really, don’t worry about it.

taking into account what you already knew about him, you assumed he'd been sitting at the table with the breakfast set, waiting for you all three days of the week. just imagining it made you want to scream into your pillow —he was so kind it made you sick. it made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

that's why you begged your parents to let you return to tokyo for at least a couple of hours that monday afternoon, because, according to you, claiming you’d left something really important at the apartment and needed to pick it up to finish your proyects. you’d run to the campus cafeteria with half your savings in your wallet, a bright green post-it note with your number written on it, and a message for the waitress.

thank god it worked, and you got a text from Isagi the next day. for a solid second, you truly thought you'd messed up completely —and that isagi hated you.

just when you were starting to process the fact that you really liked him.

because you like him. of course you like him.

more than halfway through the school year, things had started to get a little complicated for you —living alone for the first time, not having any really close friends in the city, having to navigate the capital on your own. sure, you may be a sociable and outgoing person, but sometimes everything felt too big. even for you.

and then you met isagi.

being with him is easy. talking with him is easy. feeling better, comfortable, and safe with him is easy. there came a point over these past months when you’d go to bed thinking about seeing him the next day —and he never failed. every morning, he was there, waiting for you with a coffee, a piece of toast, and a smile that started sending a weird tingling into your stomach the moment saw it.

it only took one night of facetime with your best friend back home to realize that a simple friend doesn't make you smile like a fool just thinking about them.

that, and disappearing for a whole week only to come back with a gesture straight out of an american teen romcom definitely isn’t just friends behaviour, you’d say.

a gesture straight out of a teen romcom. a smile escapes you just thinking about it, and you have to bite your lower lip so no one —not the couple next to you, at least— will notice.

but that’s exactly what you look like, right? the main characters of a movie.

you check all the boxes, if you think about it —you met in the university cafeteria every morning and started talking to share a breakfast set because —surprise— you were perfectly compatible. it became a tradition for both of you, to the point you only looked forward to seeing the other every week. then, suddenly, you disappear for a whole week when everything’s going fine, and he has no way to contact you. very convenient for the plot. but really, you hadn’t thought about exchanging socials, since you saw each other every other day anyway.

thankfully, you managed to give him your number through the cafeteria waitress.

and now you’re at a soccer match, wearing the first blue thing you found in your mother’s closet —a scarf way too warm for a summer day, but the only thing that could pass as team merch— to show your support. his parents are sitting next to you in the stands after saving you a seat. to top it all off, it's a perfect sunny day.

what’s the next thing? a goal dedicated to you?

oh. well. mental note —you think to yourself, snapping back to reality as isagi’s mother grabs your arm excitedly— don’t be sarcastic with the universe ever again.

because, right after spiraling with thoughts of the guy you like for about fifteen whole minutes, you might suddenly find yourself standing in front of your blue seat with your hands up, that guy’s mother pulling you to your feet. your hand grips the railing of the stands, your voice drowned among the crowd’s victory screams —and your gaze searches the field for the one who just scored the first goal of the game.

don’t be sarcastic with the universe again, because when your eyes land on number eleven from the blue team, you might surprise yourself by widely smiling and joining the choir of voices chanting his name, your voice blending into the roar as his teammates lift him in celebration.

and maybe —just maybe— your gaze meets his. and as he grabs his jersey by the number and presses a kiss to it, he points straight at you and mouths, this one’s for you.

or that’s what you think he says. you can’t really hear him from up here, and now everyone’s eyes are on you, and you honestly have no idea how to react.

the match continues, thankfully, and you sit back down without having to say anything. the crowd’s attention returns the field — though you’re pretty sure isagi’s mother is still watching you, but you’re not brave enough to turn and confirm it.

isagi yoichi just dedicated a goal to me. okay. fine. that’s completely fine and means nothing.

except you don’t feel fine at all. and you’re pretty sure it does mean something.

so this time, for real, you put all your attention on the match —because, if you’re honest, you have no idea of what’s been happening on the field since the game started. you try to follow the ball and recall all the plays isagi has described to you so many times. it’s a bit difficult, though, considering you never really understood them and mostly nodded along just because you liked seeing him light up while talking about the things he loves.

yeah. maybe you’ve been down bad for longer than you thought.

as your eyes lock onto number eleven again, you start to regret not paying attention earlier.

he’s a bit far from you now, waiting on the side of the field for a pass or a chance to steal the ball, while his teammate —the one with the blond streaks— skillfully advances with it, weaving through the opposing team. but you can see him clearly.

he looks focused, deep blue eyes fixed on the ball as it draws closer, his jet-black hair waves slightly in the breeze, a few damp strands clinging to his forehead. his mouth is parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of fast-paced breathing from running so much. his athletic shorts hug tightly around his thighs, muscles flexing as he starts to sprint after the now clear ball.

you swallow hard and blink a few times, trying to snap out of it. you're not the one who's been playing for nearly half an hour, but you're pretty sure you need a drink of water more than any of the players.

holy shit. since when is yoichi so hot?

you scratch the back of your neck nervously —a tic you’ve picked up from him—, eyes glued to the field. your face is hot and red, and you know it’s definitely not your too-warm scarf’s fault at all.

still, you can’t look away. you always knew he was handsome —way before you ever gathered the courage to talk to him—, but this is different. he looks confident, almost cocky. there’s a smug little grin when he steals the ball, raised brows when he blocks a goal, and the rest of the time he’s laser-focused, scanning the field. you can’t help but gulp every time his head turns toward the stands and his eyes land on you, even for just a second.

you don’t even catch what he’s yelling, both to his rivals and his teammates —probably not compliments or pretty words, judging by the way the crowd and even his parents react— because it’s impossible to focus on what he’s saying when he looks so aggressive and somehow so attractive doing it.

or maybe you just like him too much, and everything he does seems attractive..

either way, it doesn’t matter —because then he scores again, and the crowd erupts. you do too, but not because the scoreboard now reads 3-0, securing the win thanks to number ten’s earlier goal. no.

you turn bright red when, right after scoring, the striker looks straight at you —at your seat— with a confident, satisfied grin, and points at you again.

your legs actually tremble.

he’s driving you insane, and you’re pretty sure he knows it.

you're so caught up in whatever spell he has you under that, for the rest of the match, you don't process a single a thing —even though your eyes never leave him once.

you do a good job of being a fan, though.

you stand up with the crowd to clap and cheer when his teammates score two more goals —number 10, whose name is rin, as you've already learned, and the tall, white-haired boy, nagi. you even boo the other team when they get their first and only goal. you nod at all yoichi’s mother comments, who understands the game about as much as you do, and you smile politely at his father when he says something —which you mostly can’t hear over the crowd’s noise, but still respond to with an enthusiastic nod.

the heat gets intense enough that you’re forced to take your jacket off —not technically because of the weather, but no one but you needs to know that. by the end of the match, your jeans are rolled up and you’re left in just a tank top. but the scarf is still around your neck, and you make sure to adjust it carefully across your shoulders before following isagi’s parents down to the field once the crowd begins to disperse.

“what do you think, yn? isn’t he good?” his father asks.

it’s the first time you can actually make out what he’s saying —the crowd had been way too loud before, and you didn’t want to repeat “what?” twenty times, so you’d just nodded and smiled.

“yeah, wow. he really is.” you answer, walking a little awkwardly between the two of them. you’re not even sure when exactly they managed to surround you “i understand now why you said he’s considered one of the best strikers in japan. i mean, he’s told me a lot about soccer, so i knew he had to be good just from how much he knows… but, wow. he’s amazing.”

“yes, he is.” his mother adds, flashing you a wide smile.

you meet her gaze and mirror the expression, and you know she means it when she says “we are very proud of him.”

his father nods in agreement, and something warm and fluttering blooms in your chest. it’s a weird feeling, being proud of someone just because you know others are proud of them too. feeling glad —relieved, even— that people see him and admire him the same way you do.

that’s love, you guess.

“he’s really thankful for you” you don’t know where it comes from, but you can’t stop yourself. “he’s told me a bunch of times. he loves you a lot.”

isagi’s mother’s smile softens, her right arm slipping around your shoulders. she adjusts your scarf gently, her fingers brushing your skin as she gives you a warm little squeeze.

“ah, we love him a lot, too.” she replies —then her kind smile shifts into something far too close to a teasing grin. “and something tells me we’re gonna love you a lot, too.”

you’re left completely speechless. you glance away quickly, unable to form a single coherent thought —let alone a response. what are you supposed to say when the mother of the guy you like basically gives you her blessing before you’re even official?

thankfully, isagi is finished talking to his coach and is now approaching you near the edge of the field.

“yocchan!” his mother calls out, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard —and removing her arm from around your shoulders in the process. “we’re here!”

you try to laugh at the nickname —you remember him confessing it to you a few mornings ago, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment— but you can’t. you can’t, because you’re speechless again.

yoichi walks towards you with slow, steady steps.

his face is flushed and glistening with sweat, and his eyes still burn with the thrill of victory—there’re still traces of the same pride and confidence he only ever shows when he’s on the field in his gaze. strands of hair cling to his forehead, and his shirt, damp with sweat, sticks tightly to his frame.

then he grabs the hem of his jersey with one hand and lifts it to his face to wipe off the sweat from his mouth and nose. you try not to stare —really, you try—, but your eyes flick down to his stomach, and then straight back up to his eyes.

he's so attractive you almost choke on air.

isagi's mother starts to take a few steps toward him, but before she can reach him, a small group of girls intercepts him —practically swarming yoichi with flirtatious smiles and compliments that , judging by their tone, probably end with a request for his number.

however, despite how confident he is on the field, isagi’s not like that off of it —he’s more on the shy side. and he clearly has no interest in them at all.

he thanks them politely, as best he can, then awkwardly escapes the circle of attention they’ve trapped him in, practically jogging over to where his parents —and you— are waiting for him.

you know he's nervous when his hands goes to the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

it's funny how the silence is broken not by him, but by the same group of girls from before.

“i have no idea who that is.” one of them says, voice pitched just loud enough to be heard “maybe his sister? or his cousin, or something.”

you both burst out laughing at the interruption—and the assumption— and just like that, the awkward tension fades, letting isagi finally speak.

“thanks for coming.” he says. “i thought you weren’t going to show for a second, when the match started and i didn’t see you.”

“yeah, had a little subway confusion, so…”

“no! no, i didn't mean it like a complaint or anything —just an observation. i’m really glad you made it.”

you smile softly.

“yeah, i’m really glad i came, too.”

he smiles back, and suddenly, it feels like the first day again, when neither of you knew what to say after that first hi.

you swallow hard, blink, and then break the silence.

“you were… fuck, you were amazing out there.”

you’re staring at him —a little too openly. and then it hits you: you’re not alone. “oh! i mean- i mean, you were, wow, amazing out there.” you correct yourself quickly, glancing at his parents beside you.

his father chuckles.

“don’t worry. after all the things he’s shouted on the field, a simple fuck is nothing.”

your face burns red —redder than the opposing team’s jerseys— while both his parents laugh.

and you expect isagi to laugh too, or brush it off like he did with the girls earlier. but, instead, he blushes, and looks at you with that small, lopsided smile that makes your chest ache.

then he looks away again, ruffling his hair.

there’s your breakfast partner again. not the star athlete —just the cute guy from the cafeteria that studies psychology and plays soccer.

"thanks. you, uh..”

he glances at his mom, who subtly gestures, nudging him to say more —like this is something they’ve rehearsed.

"you look very pretty today.” he finally says.

then he adds, quickly:

“i mean, you always do —not just today. but you look specially pretty today." and he’s babbling again "that blue scarf looks great on you. but, uh, you also look kind of like you’re suffocating?”

you laugh. if only he knew it’s not the weather, but him, what’s making your face so red.

"i remembered uni's color was blue” you explain, fingers fidgeting with the end of the scarf. “didn’t have any merch, so i just tried to support you with whatever i had at home.”

what you don’t mention is that you stole it from you mom’s closet back in your hometown, after having a full-blown crisis over not owning anything remotely close to your college’s colors.

“well, i could give you something.” he offers, voice low and a bit nervous. “i have a few spare jerseys at home."

you’re about to answer —or collapse, honestly, because you’re pretty sure this is the kind of things official couples do in cliché romantic movies— but then his mom cuts in:

“speaking of that —why don’t you come over, yn?” she asks. “i made yocchan’s favorite meal today. have lunch with us? he told us you live alone, so there’s no issue, right?”

you start to understand where isagi got his talent for yapping.

“we’ll get to know you better, yoichi thanks you for coming to the game, and he gives you his jersey."

your brain becomes a chaotic mess of thoughts. you want to say yes, obviously. you want to thank her for the invitation. you want to ask isagi what giving you his jersey means. you want to see his room and his house, but you also kind of want to run back to your place, dive onto your bed, and scream into a pillow.

isagi misreads your hesitation.

"mom, she might have plans. don’t pressure her—"

"no, no, i’d love to go!" you interrupt quickly.

yoichi raises a brow, clearly surprised —he knows you don’t really like his favorite dish. you’ve been bickering about it for weeks.

"thank you for inviting me."

"you heard her, yoichi, she said yes.” his mom beams. “now go shower, you’re still red from the match. you’ve got fifteen minutes, meet us at the car. meanwhile, yn and us have lots to talk about.”

somehow, she doesn’t make it sound like a threat, more like an invitation.

drawing a smile, isagi mumbles a soft "sorry" before heading to the locker room. as he walks away, you call out: “i´ll be fine. i think she likes me."

isagi’s smile is wide and bright right before he disappears through the locker room door. he’s so wrapped up in his own joy —so stupidly in love— he doesn’t even notice the trap he’s just walked into.

inside, the locker room is already full. his teammates are waiting, ready to tease him.

"i have some spare jerseys" karasu mocks, his voice high-pitched, grinning wide. "i could give you one”

isagi throws his towel at him.

"oh, shut up”

"nah, thats a good move, isagi" otoya chimes in “i've done that a bunch. nothing makes me play better than having a cute girl with my number on in the stands”

isagi doesn't love the comparison. otoya is famous for rotating girls every match —and that’s so not him. definitely not with you.

he wants you at all his games. he wants you to be the only one ever, actually. for everything. only you, even if it seems too intense.

"its not like that" isagi says "i really like her. like… marry-her-like-her. having-kids-with-her-like-her. celebrate-christmas-with-her-like-her. ”

otoya blinks.

"huh? well, i like all my girlfriends a lot too.”

isagi doesn’t respond —mostly because chigiri and reo immediately jump into a debate with otoya about how what he just said is probably offensive to, like, every girl in the country. and in the world.

still, one word lingers in his mind.

girlfriend.

yeah. he wouldn’t mind calling you that at all.

masterlist.

tags ౨ৎ @ireallylikemenalot @rohfulike @numberonenessandnagistan @blu3-l0v3r .ᐟ (i tagged everyone who asked for the part 2, hope u dont mind <3 tell me if u want me to remove u from the list no prob!!)

﹫luvseisagi, june 2025.

#archive 📁. ۶ৎ #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk x you #isagi #isagi yoichi #isagi x you #isagi x reader #isagi x y/n #blue lock isagi #bllk isagi #yoichi isagi

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nartblartmallcop · 1 month ago

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The Smiling Dead have cemented a few people too many and don't have any dishwashers left

But hey! An evening spent washing dishes together can be a great family bonding event

#the gaslight district #tgd ken #tgd melancholy #tgd mud #tgd breadhead #doodles #This was mostly a reason for me to finally draw the rest of the main cast #Bc i have like 15 drawings of mud already #I have a bit of a favourite #Which you can also see in me giving him a whole outfit here. His rolled up sleeves... Sexy...

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lieutenantraziel · 1 year ago

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Cid!! He just looks so good in black

#my art #ffxvi #cidolfus telamon #ff16 #final fantasy 16 #cid the outlaw #he may look too dapper for an outlaw here but #I just want him to look NICE for once #his outfit is one of my least favorites for the main characters #so I took matters into my own hands as usual

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simpforboys · 6 months ago

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surprise!

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…

warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart

‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3

part two , part three, part four

2020

“Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”

“Do you have a celebrity crush?

“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”

“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

2021

“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”

“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”

“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”

“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”

“What’s your type in a man?”

“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”

2022

“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”

“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”

“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”

“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”

2023

“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”

“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”

“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”

“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”

“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”

“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”

2024

“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”

“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”

“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”

Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.

Drew Starkey.

It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.

Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.

Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”

When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.

Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.

“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.

“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.

The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.

“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”

“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.

“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.

“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.

“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.

You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”

Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.

“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”

You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.

“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.

“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.

You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.

“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.

“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”

You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.

“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.

“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.

If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.

But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.

“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.

“Please don’t pass out.”

Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.

Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.

The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.

Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.

“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”

You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.

Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.

“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.

“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.

“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.

“I’m honored,” Drew replies.

You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.

Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.

“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.

“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.

“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.

Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.

“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.

“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.

Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.

The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.

He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.

He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.

And nervous.

“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.

“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.

Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.

The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.

You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.

After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.

“You ready?” Drew asked you.

You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.

Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.

It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“So… you like my new song?”

You finally manage to choke out.

Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.

“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.

You nod, making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”

You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.

“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.

“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”

You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.

“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.

A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips.

“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.

“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”

You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.

Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”

You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”

Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.

“You too, Drew.”

You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.

By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.

Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.

@/drewstarkey started following you back

#simpforboys #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x singer!reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you

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navtrash · 17 days ago

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you don't know how incredibly happy i am to be able to finally post this

the "second part" of my shadowvanilla AU aaaaaaaankdsnasnsdalsdkandlnasd (part one here)

i underestimated the process of making these, i didn't expect to take this long! but at least it's finished. sorry if the conversation feels kinda unnatural, i only know how to make characters yap by themselves. take this bonus:

my friend told me to draw loss braille. i'm so sorry.

some extra things below :)

i thought i was, unintentionally, mischaracterizing shadow milk in my "first part", so i wanted to make sure to demonstrate that, even in a "friendship AU", he was, is, and still will be a complex character; having second thoughts about everything, hating and loving at the same time, etc etc etc. i'm sorry for the people who said this will be wholesome, i created it with angst in mind...!

on the other hand, pure vanilla's design has been slightly altered:

i came in conclusion that i didn't understand his outfit at all, so i made my "own" version how it should normally look. i added more yellow because i thought all white was kinda... too much. i forgot to add the dark and white stripes around it in the comic lol. i'm sorry, there will be a LOT of inconsistencies (and also artstyle changes) due to forgetting things. like i forgot to draw the eyes under the cape aaghh!

an AU fact! pure vanilla's sight hasn't improved, but he doesn't need the staff like before (besides, the staff doesn't even have an eye... RIP orchid). he keeps it out of habit, but when relaxed, he hardly uses it. and last, pure vanilla prefers to read in braille.

onto another shadow milk's info: did you know his pupils wide when talking to, or looking at pure vanilla? like a cat! (that also happens in part one)

i want to talk about everything a bit more, but i don't even know if i will continue this or not. i'm having fun drawing and creating things for the AU, but sometimes i think i'll just quit this "project" like other projects i had. it would be sad if so, but i'll try to continue if i still see that you guys like this AU (that's my main motivation!)

thank you again, sorry for the big yap. no derp sheep, but take this princess pure vanilla (deciding his outfit stressed me out, this is my revenge).

#cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #shadowvanilla #puremilk #cookie run fanart #vanilla milkshake au #crk au #fanart #big yap in the end sorry

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fushitoru · 9 months ago

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rainy days and brownies

pairing ⸺ college/modern!au: bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you wake up for some soft moments with your boyfriend that involves brownies (turned freaky)

warnings ⸺ smut, tooth rotting fluff, some mild angst?, gojo unfortunately mentions skibidi toilet, I think I made gojo gen z here, boob worship, brownies and baking, established relationship, oral (f!receiving), gojo eats pussy like a champ, NOT EDITED, might be incoherent to everyone except me, product of a forceful effort to escape writer’s block, rainy mornings <3, lots of intimacy, art by 3-aem, probably in the same universe as this

general masterlist

Rainy mornings with Satoru means baking.

It’s a ritual the both of you have fallen into. On a day like this, where the air smells like rain, you blearily wake up from your nap to smell the warm distinct aroma of overly sweet brownies.

The slutty brownies were Satoru’s masterpiece. Even if he did overdo the sugar, you can’t admit that your stomach was growling as you rubbed your bleary eyes and frowned while raking a hand through your head. This bed head was going to be a bitch to untangle with the hairbrush.

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUU—“

You jumped, caught off guard by Satoru randomly deciding to pay homage to Whitney Houston. Standing up, you headed towards the living room of you and Satoru’s apartment—-not before you adjusted your tank top so your tits weren’t out and the boy shorts you chose to sleep in properly covered your ass.

“WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU—-“ You cringed at Satoru’s attempt of a high note, grumpily looking at him use his chocolate covered spatula as a makeshift mic. He was in the kitchen—-shirtless, of course—-now bending over to peek at the state of his brownies in the oven. Deciding the brownies weren’t done yet, he closed the oven door and stood up once more, reaching for his phone to undoubtedly scroll through TikTok. Continuing to hum different variations of the chorus, he swiped at his phone, ignorant to your presence behind him.

You think he’s kind of sweet like this. If it weren’t for him, the both of you would never be in this position. You would always be the cold frigid bitch he saw in freshman orientation and occasionally at parties across campus, and he would be the sweet, friendly guy that all the girls would continue to fall head over heels for.

To be honest, you don’t really see what he sees in you. You’re like a Disney villain, the witch that entraps him in her webs of insecurity and jealousy, but he remains the valiant prince, fighting to get to you. When he finally has you in his arms, he kisses you into believing that you are his princess instead.

It’s obvious in the way he fought for you—memorizing your schedule, rushing across campus just to walk you to class, pleading with you to grab dinner. And each time, you’d brush him off with sharp rejections, finding excuses to keep him at arm’s length.

But when he finally had you, finally cracked all your defenses—he was never going to let you go. You could see as much; the way he proudly walked on campus with you at his side, across the main quad so he could boast that he got you. You were his, and he was fully, undoubtedly yours. At parties, his eyes would always be on you, raking his eyes up and down your figure in your nurse outfit, conjuring up the hundred and thirty four positions he would fuck you so good in, even if there were prettier girls clinging onto his arms asking for a morsel of his attention. Pettily enough, you would just need to sigh and mumble “This party isn’t fun,” to have Satoru whipped, ushering you out of the frat house while those girls glared at the back of your Halloween costume, angry beyond measure that a nobody like you has the campus sweetheart wrapped around your finger.

Loud booms of the Vine gunshot sound effect snaps you back into the present, where Satoru is snickering at some god awful brain rot. You choose to approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist and smothering your face into his muscular back.

“Hi baby,” you mumble.

“Guess which sleepyhead is awake!” He announces to the world and turns around, and your traitorous heart jumps in its chest while looking into his eyes. It’s stupid. You’re both in your PJs on a morning where the rain thuds against the window pane, blurring both the window and all outside life, suspending you both in this moment. His eyes look affectionately down to you, and he plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “How was your nap, baby?”

“It was good.” You watch him turn around again to peek at the oven, and he hums, upper arm flexing as he grabs the heavy bag of flour, dragging it closer to him. “When’d you get up?”

“Around 7.”

You shoot him a bewildered look as you hop onto the counter, a better space to observe your boyfriend. When he realized that you had woken up, he had left his phone open to give you a kiss, reel playing noises. You peek over and almost snort at what is playing.

“Satoru, why are you watching alligators get chased away by a shovel?”

He looks up from the bowl of brownie batter he was now cleaning—-with his tongue, mind you—-and grins boyishly. “Isn't it crazy how hundreds of years of evolution get destroyed by a shovel?”

”Your feed is not normal,” you shake your head, keeping a stony face as you continue to scroll through his TikTok. In fact, it’s hilarious—-the things he got were weirder than one could dream, with toilets producing heads of men taking over whole cities. You’re not sure what that means about your boyfriend, but you accept it as you watch the nonsensical video.

“Wait,” he makes his way over to you, standing in between your legs. “Is that skibidi toilet?”

“What the hell is that.”

“Baby,” he whines. “You don’t know the lore? I don’t know if I can be with you for any longer.”

Your bite back a grin. “And subjecting me to hours of FNAF backstory wasn’t testament to how much I love you?”

Before he could whine back, you noticed he had some leftover chocolate on the side of his mouth and leaned over to lick it. Humming at the taste, you grabbed his hands and took in his brownie coated index and middle finger into your mouth.

He frowns. “Are you trying to seduce me into forgiving you and giving you more brownies?”

You laugh softly and give him a soft smooch on his shoulder. “No, silly. If I ate any more than half, I would have diabetes.”

He grabs the back of your hips and pulls you closer into him, nuzzling his nose against yours. The physical contact rubs at your nerves the right way, firing off that emotional part of you that makes you think loving him is so easy. How lucky you are that he’s chosen to give you his love.

His god-awful alarm blares—same annoying sound he keeps hitting snooze on for his 7ams—and the moment breaks as he reaches for the oven mitts to pull out the brownies. The aroma hits you instantly, making your mouth water. Satoru blows dramatically on the brownies, pouting and mock-yelling, “Hurry up and cool down! My girlfriend wants to eat you.” You can’t help but giggle. Once Satoru finally decides they’re cool enough, he grabs one and offers it to you. “Make way for the choo-choo train!” he snickers, guiding the brownie through imaginary tracks, a shit-eating grin on his face, before plopping it into your mouth.

You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the brownie melts on your tongue, its warmth enveloping your senses. Rich, velvety tones of chocolate overwhelm your mouth, with each bite releasing a symphony of deep, indulgent flavors that linger long after the brownie is fully swallowed. “Wow, this is actually good.”

He pauses, brownie and hand held in mid air. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug innocently but stick your tongue out to him regardless.

Popping the brownie in his mouth--but not before sending you a pout---he brushes his hands together to remove the brownie crumbs as he makes his way back in between your legs. The way he settles between them makes you all too aware of the heat of his groin encompassing you. He lazily drags his eyes up your figure, but not before settling on your outfit. His eyes then flick down to watch his hands trace the hem of your tank top, and your eyes follow his hands, a little dizzy by the action.

You’re always a bit sensitive in the mornings, and before this day, you and Satoru’s interactions have been limited to a kiss before he runs for his 7am and then doing college work until 3am, where you’re both too tired for anything particularly frisky. So, yea, you are kind of pent up---and judging by the bulge that’s starting to form in Satoru’s sweats, you assume he is too.

You put your elbows on his shoulder blades to give him head scratches from behind and lean towards his jawlines giving small kisses. You can feel him close his eyes, purring silently like a cat, and underneath your hands, his back and shoulder blades tense and relax as you rake your hands over his scalp.

“This new?” He uses his index finger to snap the strap of your tank top against your shoulder, using his mouth to given open mouthed kisses to your collarbone.

“Mhm,” you hum, a little deliriously at that---he’s begun to trail down, mouth working at the swell of your breasts.

He slowly pulls the collar of your tank down, down down down until your breast pops out. His eyes trace the swing urgently and groans. “I missed these, sweet girl.”

You gasp sharply when he puts it in his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple. Satoru’s always been a boob guy, joking about his hands being your bra to support “those mommy milkers.” Right now, he’s doing just that; groping the hell out of them and giving them kisses, as if they were God’s greatest creation.

As much as you were enjoying your boyfriend’s boob worshipping, you need more. You were throbbing in want of contact on your pussy, and you made sure to relay just that. “Toru, I need more,” you whined.

“God forbid a man appreciate nice boobs.” He rolls his like the sassy man he is and parts with your nipple like lips after a messy and wet make out session. Your breasts are gleaming with his spit, a string connecting your nipple to his lips. He trails his face down your torso, making his way down to his knees until he was facing your crotch.

You whine and clench your thighs together to draw his face closer to the space between your thighs. He looks up at you and coos, giving your inner thigh a kiss. “I can smell you from here, cutie.”

His statement reminds you that you’re not too wet in the mornings. As soon as you wake up, some of your morning sessions with Satoru require the aid of lube to ensure no pain. Irritation flares at you at the thought that you might need to leave your position to grab some l—-

Oh.

“What the hell. I thought you wet your pants,” Satoru giggles. The finger running through your folds glides messily, as you both marvel to how wet you are. You’re also on another plane; you haven’t felt his touch for weeks, and the feeling overwhelms you as the squelches your pussy makes echo throughout the kitchen.

Satoru gives you a kiss on your neck. “Baby, can I?” You deliriously remember that he’s lightly circling his finger around your entrance and when you finally give him the okay, he pushes in.

Both of you groan at how tight you are. “Satoru,” you moan and proceed to bring him in for a kiss as he pistons in and out of your pussy, curling them just the way you like and making you see colors.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he groans. “Left my baby so pent up.”

At that, all you can do is nod and whimper in agreement. All that leaves your mouth are gasps of his names and oh my god’s because he’s making you feel so good.

And then, you almost scream as you feel him blowing hot air onto your folds, leaning down to give teasing kitten licks around your clit, but not directly on it. His tongue drags up and down until he finally stops it right next to your clit as if feeling the sensation of your pussy throbbing, echoing your fastened heartbeat skin-to-skin while drooling.

Frustrated, you try to move your hips, but Satoru grabs them to stay in place. He’s so close to the place you want him, but he’s stationed in one place, spit flowing down as his tongue is still and his dark eyes are staring at you as if enraptured by your struggling.

“Satoru, please lick my clit,” you moan wantonly, begging for him to change his position.

But Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be Satoru Gojo without some teasing. “What was that, baby? Avoid your clit? You got it.”

“No,” you sobbed, grabbing onto his hair and directing his tongue to your clit. This time, he relents, sucking the bud into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, making you see stars.

But soon, his quick and fast lapping turn into lazy licks, and you get frustrated, grinding against air and pussy oozing out wetness as Satoru keeps his tongue outstretched in front of you but not close enough to make contact with your skin, teasing. You hate the feeling of your pussy throbbing and the inner thighs and pussy wet with your slick, lacking the sensation you needed to finally climax. “Oh my god, Satoru, please make me cum.”

“I don’t know baby, you sound pretty commanding to me.” The motherfucker shrugs as if he has nothing to do with your dilemma and starts trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His touches were close to where you needed him most, making you ache for the sensation of his wet laps against you.

“Please, baby,” you beg. “You feel so good, you’re making me feel soo good. I love you so much. Please let me cum.” You’re full on sobbing, hips writhing to get any sensation in.

Satoru, at your display, seems to give in, because he’s coming in once more, giving you a sweet little kiss on your clit. You nearly ascend.

He’s diving in, making a rhythm of dipping his tongue into your entrance and coming back to give sloppily wet laps on your clit. It’s when he groans while his tongue is inside, hot air and vibrations needily simulating your clit, that you come up with a gasp. You roll your hips, Satoru giving you little licks to help you ride out your orgasm.

For how hard you came, you’re bucking your hips frantically, body on a mind of its own as you almost fall off the counter. Satoru has to grip your thighs to prevent that potential injury and rubs soothing circles on the outside of your thigh as you pant, wetness and sweat likely painting the counter beneath you. It’s not until your breath returns back to it’s normal pace that you notice Satoru’s head against your thighs, looking up at you with lovesick eyes.

You’re probably giving him the same look back, you realize, given he made you ascend to heaven and back. He gives an affectionate kiss to your mound, moaning corny shit like “Your pussy tastes sweeter than the brownie.”

And then he stands up, knees popping on the way back up, and despite your fucked out state, you can’t help but giggle. “You old man with the popping knee caps.”

He glares at you playfully, but you know his expression too well to know there’s no real offense in it. “Hey. Rude to say that after I just made you cum your brains out.”

”And you’re about to get the same thing,” you purr, putting a hand on his hard-on. He hisses but looks at you with lust blown eyes as he grabs the back of your thighs to carry you to your shared bedroom.

Yes, rainy days do mean baking with Satoru, but not without intimacy with your even sweeter boyfriend in bed.

general masterlist

comment or reblog to let me know your thoughts! I appreciate all of them <3

a/n lol this was a bitch to write. this might be a word soup or salad or whatever for all readers and that’s ok! I’ve written this primarily at 1am so…

eugh ok im going back to writing ch5 of bridgerton!gojo and fixing the em dashes in this post when i wake up LOL

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ari-ana-bel-la · 1 month ago

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Hello! If you’re still accepting requests, would you write about Lando and his daughter and he always dresses them in matching outfits since she was a baby? Thanks!

Matching Outfits

The sun had just started rising over the circuit, casting a golden hue over the paddock. The usual buzz was already beginning to build: mechanics setting up, team members running around with coffees in hand, and media beginning to trickle in. But that morning, one figure stood out more than anyone else.

Lando walked into the paddock with a soft smile on his face, one hand pushing a sleek black stroller, the other adjusting the hood of his pastel pink hoodie. A matching pink baby bow peeked from under the stroller's blanket. Only a few people noticed at first, but the moment word got around, the drivers started appearing from every corner.

"Mate," Carlos said, jogging up beside him, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Is this the debut I think it is?"

Lando grinned. "Yep. She's finally here."

He carefully peeled back the stroller's blanket, revealing a tiny sleeping Yn, dressed in a pink onesie with a mini Quadrant logo embroidered on the chest and an oversized bow that nearly swallowed her forehead.

Carlos face melted. "No way. No actual way. She looks like a little cupcake. Look at her!"

Lando chuckled. "She drooled on the last outfit, so we had to switch to the emergency one. This is version 2.0."

Oscar appeared next, eyebrows raised. "You actually did it. The matching outfits thing."

Lando looked mock-offended. "You doubted me?"

"No, no! I expected it. I just didn’t expect it to be this cute."

Yn stirred slightly in the stroller, a tiny fist poking out from under the blanket. The drivers leaned in instinctively.

"She’s so small," murmured Charles, crouching beside the stroller.

"She’s three months. That’s still pocket-size," Lando whispered proudly. "Her main activities include eating, napping, and making me late because I get too distracted dressing her."

"How many outfits do you have for her?" George asked, peering down with a soft smile.

"Too many. But not enough," Lando answered with zero guilt. "I ordered custom onesies in every color hoodie I own. And I have more on the way."

Carlos snorted. "So what you're saying is you’ve created a fashion dynasty."

Lando smirked. "I’m building an empire."

The next race weekend, it was green.

Lando strutted into the paddock in a sage green hoodie with matching joggers. Yn sat contentedly in a baby carrier strapped to his chest, wearing a tiny green romper with little frog socks and a matching headband.

"You planned this," Alex said, pointing.

"Of course I did."

"You realize she has no idea what she's wearing, right?"

"Doesn’t matter," Lando grinned. "She’ll thank me when she’s older and sees the pictures."

"Or she’ll roll her eyes."

"Even better."

Yn, completely oblivious to the conversation, giggled and tried to gum Lando’s hoodie string.

"Hey, hey, no eating daddy’s hoodie," he cooed, lifting her tiny hand to kiss it. She squealed in return.

Pierre walked over, holding a coffee. "Alright, what’s the color this weekend?"

"Green," George answered, pointing at the duo. "Obviously."

Pierre leaned in, eyes widening as he looked at Yn. "Every week she gets cuter. It’s unfair."

Lando smiled. "It’s the power of good accessories."

By the third race, it was orange. Not just any orange, McLaren papaya orange.

Yn wore a handmade onesie in the team’s signature color, soft and breathable, with a tiny patch on the sleeve that read: Daddy’s #1 Fan. She even had socks with little steering wheels on them.

As Lando entered the motorhome, carrying her on his hip, the whole team melted.

"She’s our good luck charm," one of the mechanics said.

"She needs a team badge," added another.

"Already on it," Lando said, producing a tiny laminated card from his pocket. "She’s officially honorary team baby."

Yn responded by sneezing loudly and then blowing a raspberry.

"She speaks!" Carlos shouted, pretending to fall back in mock awe.

"Her first words will probably be ‘downforce,’" Charles joked.

"Or ‘Daddy stop matching me,’" Oscar added.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile. "You’re all jealous."

That night in the hotel, Lando sat cross-legged on the bed, baby monitor on one side, tiny piles of pastel onesies spread out before him.

"Okay," he muttered, holding up two outfits. "Tomorrow’s color theme. Sunshine yellow or lilac?"

Yn, lying in her bassinet and gnawing on a teething ring, offered no comment.

"Right. Lilac it is. You are such a smart baby, darling."

Each morning became a little ritual. Lando would wake up, feed her, change her, and then pull out their matching outfits for the day. The more he did it, the more he fell in love with the little moment of connection they shared, even if she couldn’t understand it yet.

Every cuddle, every gummy smile, every sleepy coo made the long nights and early mornings worth it.

And every weekend, more of the paddock caught on.

Seb came by once just to bring a knitted cardigan for Yn in Ferrari red.

"Not subtle," Lando said.

"She needs options," Seb replied with a wink.

Even Kimi gave her a tiny pair of racing gloves. "Too big now. She’ll grow."

"Thanks, Ice Man," Lando said, genuinely touched.

"Bwoah, don’t call me that."

During a rainy weekend, Lando dressed them both in little waterproof jackets in pastel purple. Yn had tiny boots (more decorative than functional), and Lando kept her tucked against his chest as they walked through the paddock.

Media snapped photos, but Lando was always careful, always keeping her face tucked safely away.

He didn’t want the world to have her. Not yet. Not fully.

Yn was his world. His quiet, peaceful world in the middle of racing chaos.

Every night, before bed, he whispered the same thing into her tiny ear:

"You’re my whole universe, little star."

She’d gurgle back, a tiny hand wrapping around his finger.

And that was all he needed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!

-💚🐍

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infizero · 6 months ago

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hilarious that this is my first spoiler post i know. but genuinely the amount of spotlight stobotnik, and just stone in general, got in this movie is INSANE. like in the first movie stone was just there to be eggman's lackey. second movie we had the bits of stone making the latte art and the maid outfit and shit, but he was still primarily eggman's lackey.

BUT HERE? they deadass made stone's love for this man a prominent plot point that was taken like 100% seriously. like you aren't really meant to laugh at stone in this movie, you are supposed to feel REALLY FUCKING BAD FOR HIM. AND I DID!!!!!!! I WAS DESPONDENT!!!!!

and like, THEY KILLED OFF EGGMAN IN THIS MOVIE, and almost the entirety of his final monologue, his SENDOFF in these films, WAS HIM TALKING TO STONE AND ACKNOWLEDGING THEIR BOND LIKE????????? do you understand how crazy that is.

like obviously it's meant to pass the torch to stone so he can be the big bad in the next film, but even outside of that, them making eggman's arc and character overall CULMINATE in him sending a farewell message to stone and stone crying over it and shit???? like the evolution of stone's character and their dynamic in general from the first film to now is CRAZY and im actually so insane about it.

we're finally getting main villain stone, with a tragic backstory of losing robotnik to boot, and i could NOT BE HAPPIER

#infizero.txt #sonic 3 spoilers #sonic movie 3 spoilers #sonic the hedgehog 3 spoilers #sth #sonic movie 3 #sonic 3 #stobotnik #agent stone #dr ivo robotnik #eggman #1k #infizero.analysis

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watercolor-wings · 2 years ago

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Y'all I do not even know how to describe the level of small town gossip going on at my workplace right now, there's this asshole landlord going through a divorce that he is quite literally plastering biblical quotes about on giant CalTrans signs in our town, and some shit's going down between him and the Starbucks and y'all everyone is so here for it. If this man ever leaves town, there will be so many celebration parties.

#small town gossip is fucking next level y'all #do not ever move to a small town if you are not prepared #one of my favorite stories about the smallness of my town comes from my family friend/neighbor/former teacher #it was early in her relationship with her husband who grew up here and he invited her as his +1 to an event of some kind #cant remember if it was a wedding or a funeral or what but she grew up in georgia went into the military and spent a while in nyc #so she was like 'what on earth do i wear to this event?? like what is the appropriate dress atire for a small town event of this caliber??'#i think it was a wedding #anyways her husband went and asked some people back here what they thought she should wear and they asked some people and got back to him #so when the event time finally comes they pull up into town its her first time here its a new relationship she only knows him #and she gets out the car on main st to go into the venue and someone walking by stops and looks her up and down #and goes 'that's perfect. good job.'#and this was just over an outfit #do not. EVER. move to a small town without being prepared

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no-squ4sh-4-b4by · 4 months ago

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Kanye West and Bianca Censori's appearance on the red carpet was something out of a nightmare. If you haven't seen the clip, go look it up.

It starts with them posing, then they face each other and start to talk. Their conversation is not audible, but you can see Bianca shaking her head no and readjusting her large fur coat to cover herself. After three or four words are exchanged, she turns away from the camera and starts taking off her coat slowly. Revealing her naked shoulders, then her back, then her buttocks. She turns around to finally show off the dress she's wearing, a tight, see-through piece of nylon (designed by Kanye himself, according to a post he made on his Instagram) that leaves her breasts, genitals and ass exposed. She's essentially naked. During this whole scene, Kanye is just facing the cameras with sunglasses on, neutral expression on his face.

Now, I'm not shocked by nudity. Censori is definitely not the first celebrity to walk the red carpet wearing a very revealing outfit (and she won't be the last). What disgusts me is the scene they built around the outfit.

First, the little conversation they have. You can clearly see Bianca shaking her head no and tightening her coat around her before being made to undress. There's two possibilities here:

A) Either this wasn't rehearsed, so we essentially witnessed Bianca being pressured into undressing herself in front of dozens of cameras or;

B) It was rehearsed (the most likely option, in my opinion). But then why? Why act out this discomfort before the reveal?

Some could argue they were talking about something totally unrelated, but I very much doubt it. It's their big moment on the red carpet, in front of cameras, it's not the time to talk about the groceries.

What I think is happening is that they (but most likely Kanye) voluntarily chose to paint a scene of a woman being forced to undress herself in front of thousands for the amusement of her husband. It's essentially a brag, a show of force for Kanye. He's saying: "Look at my wife and what she'll do for me. Look what I can make her do. "

The last thing I haven't mentioned, and the scariest, is Censori's facial expression through it all. Neutral expression, no smile. Her eyebrows are trimmed downwards in a way where she looks slightly worried. And her stare is totally vacant. I've seen people say she looks drugged, dissociated, downright "stupid."

I think this is the main difference between Bianca's look and others who have worn skimpy outfits in front of the cameras. Whether it be Lady Gaga, Kendall Jenner, or Madonna, they all share something: confidence. A sultry look, a cheeky smirk, hell, at least a smile! Something to show that they feel desirable, that they're in control. That they choose to show us their bodies.

Whereas Bianca looks dead inside as she's posing.

After standing in front of the cameras for a little while, Kanye takes her hand and leads her away.

The whole sequence (no matter how much Bianca has consented to it) feels like a humiliation ritual. Kayne, standing there fully dressed, pressing his wife to expose her body to the entire world before parading her around. A gross display of chauvinist male domination on the body of a woman. Like, I don't know how else to say it, but it looks like he's walking around with his sex doll, still partially in her plastic wrapping.

Why are we seeing this? What is the point? I can't help but relate this to Elon's n*zi salute. It feels like we're witnessing more and more rich and powerful men pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable, trying to see how far they can go. How much of their toxic, repressive views they can share before we come for them.

My heart goes out to Bianca, I hope she's safe and happy in her marriage.

#this was a long one #spag talking #also a lot of people have mentioned how much Bianca looks like Kim Kardashian which is true #as if kanye is trying to send some twisted message to his ex wife #“i found another version of you who submits to me and will do everything i want”#gross all around #bianca censori #kanye west #grammys #grammys 2025 #fuck the patriarchy #think piece #feminism #analysis #social commentary

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selfcarecap · 9 months ago

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Both

✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Storm

✧ summary: Storm and Logan are both hopelessly crushing on you. When they realise that they both like you, they get into a silent competition about who can win you over first… until they realise there might not be a need to make you choose; or: You have a threesome with Logan and Storm

✧ warnings: smut 18+, threesome, oral, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, creampie, liiittle bit of ass play, use of dildo between reader and Storm, I think those are the main things, reader is sub-ish and Logan and Storm are more dominant, reader gets called baby, good girl, princess, pretty girl, bub, nothing happens between Logan and Storm btw because I’m a jealous bitch, reader is shy and a bit awkward, this is definitely mostly porn but romantic feelings are implied too, reader is bi, talking about coming out, but reader is in denial about her crush on Storm and also on Logan bc she’s oblivious and a lil insecure tbh, mention of being drunk, they’re all mutants but it doesn’t rlly come up, Logan is taller than the reader, the part leading up to the smut is a little unserious lol they’re all just whipped but yeah it’s kind of a different fic from my prev Logan ones idk it’s more just fun for the first part; also alternative title is BOAF but I didn’t know how many people would get that lol

✧ word count: oh. umm 11k (the main smut is 4k at the end if you wanna skip to that loll I’ve put a divider (stars) so you know when it starts, you don’t necessarily need to know the backstory)

✧ note: Recently watched X-Men 1 for the first time (yeah i know) and these two are literally the definition of bi panic whaaaatttttt + also I called her Storm and not Ororo(?) because I’ve only watched X Men 1 where they just call her Storm so that’s the only way I’m familiar with her, so yeah idk if anyone else wants this combination of characters but i def do so <33

You’re focussed as you do your daily stretches, completely oblivious to Storm and Logan watching you from the other side of the gym.

They stare as you bend down into downward dog and you make a little exhausted noise at the stretch. Logan almost flinches with how good it feels to hear it; with his enhanced senses it’s as if you’re moaning right into his ear.

Storm’s eyes trail up your legs, over your pink gym set that clings to you in all the right places. She watches a pearl of sweat slide down your belly – she wishes she could lick it off your skin. Logan thinks about making you sweat more if he finally gets you in his bed one day.

He clears his throat after you slide down to your knees, arch your spine and let out a little contented sigh at the welcome stretch. A movement to his right catches Logan’s eye. Storm is standing right next to him, hands on her hips, mirroring his own position.

Is she here to stare at you too? Not that that’s what he’s doing. He was training here himself and was done a few minutes after you got here. Resting his eyes is part of the cooldown – you just so happen to be in his view.

“You training today?” Logan breaks the silence.

“Trained earlier this morning,” Storm answers, folding her arms, “What’re you doing here?” She sounds almost accusatory.

“Just finished my workout. Making sure she’s fine with the weights.” Their eyes drift to you, still stretching.

“She said she might use weights later,” Logan adds, averting his eyes.

The only thing Logan doesn’t like about his little crush on you – if you can even call it that – (you can definitely call it that) is that it sometimes makes him nervous, even if just a little. You’re so sweet and so shy and you’re usually oblivious to his flirting. He’s not used to that.

“Aha,” Storm nods with suspicion and slowly walks out of the gym.

Logan sighs a breath of relief and hopes you didn’t hear any of that. He stops himself from looking at your cute little gym outfit again and leaves to shower.

Later that day, Storm knocks at your bedroom door, “I’ve made lunch if you want some.”

Her voice is so angelic, you think, and you briefly wonder if that’s a normal opinion to have about your friend. It’s not just her voice, but those pretty lips her voice comes out of – just from woman to woman. She has nice lips. That can totally be a platonic compliment.

You realise she’s waiting for you to answer as you just stare at her gorgeous, gorgeous face – okay, maybe you do like her as more than a friend.

“That’s so sweet of you, I’ll come join you,” you put on a high-pitched platonic voice.

You’re sitting down at the table getting your plates ready – Storm made your favourite food, said she was just craving the taste today – when Logan comes in.

“Brought my own lunch, thought I could join you?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, sitting down next to you.

“What if you can’t?” Storm says, an eyebrow raised, though playfully.

“And what would your explanation be?”

“We need girl time.”

You’re looking between them with wide puppy eyes. You’re not sure if they’re being playful after all. Their faces soften when they look at you.

“Maybe Logan can stay for lunch and we’ll go to your room later?” you suggest, “We can have a sleepover tonight.”

Storm’s face lights up, “Good idea.” You miss the smirk she gives Logan, who then huffs.

Logan takes off his leather jacket. You’re sure that’s just your mind playing tricks on you but it almost looks as if he’s doing it deliberately slowly, showing off his big, defined arms. You’re drooling like a dog.

He reaches across the table and your eyes stay glued to his triceps until you hear your name.

“What?”

Logan smiles down at you, “I asked if you could pass the salt.”

You swallow and nod, eyes searching for the salt, but Storm gets there before you. She firmly presses the salt shaker into his hand, and his arm is gone from in front of your face. You resist the urge to pout.

A moment later though, Logan reaches out for the pepper himself, “Sorry, just needa…” He fumbles with the shaker across the table. This time his arm is angled differently and your eyes land right on one of those delicious veins on his skin.

Storm is kind enough to pass him the pepper too, but this time you think you audibly sigh with frustration when Logan pulls his arm back to his body. You focus on eating instead of panicking about whether either of them heard that.

Storm swallows down her jealousy after watching you mesmerised by Logan’s arms for what felt like an eternity with no idea how obvious you were being.

She finishes her glass of water and gets up to get more. She looks at Logan as she walks to the sink. Two can play this game.

With her back turned to the both of you, Storm undoes the top two buttons of her shirt and places the pendant of her necklace right between her breasts. When she sits back down, she leans her elbow on the table and pushes her forearm right against the side of her tits. Your eyes are immediately drawn to them like a honeybee to a flower.

Storm bites back a smirk. She remains silent so as not to pull your attention away from her cleavage. She wants you to get lost there as long as you need to.

Logan rolls his eyes at her and asks you to pass some food from across the table, pulling you out of your trance.

You see the next exchange of looks between the two of them – their eyes do all the talking. You look away and realise… are they flirting? You thought they were mad at each other, having a silent argument, but now you think you might have been wrong. They’re teasing each other.

You can’t decide if you should be jealous or turned on. They’re the two people you have a crush on – again, platonic crushes, obviously. If they got together, in whatever way, at least they’d make a hot couple for you to stare at. But you’d also be devastated that it’s not you who gets to be with either of them.

A quiet sound catches your attention – Storm’s fingernail against her necklace, the necklace that’s nestled right between her breasts. You briefly wonder if she’s trying to get Logan’s attention with it, but in that moment you don’t feel jealous. You just appreciate what’s in front of you.

With your elbow perched on the table, you’re leaning your head against your hand, and you notice too late that your arm is sliding off the table. You gasp when your head loses its support and you sit up quickly, gaze pulled away from Storm.

Heat blooms on your face and you lift your glass of water to your mouth to cool yourself down. But the picture of Storm’s perfect boobs lingers in your mind and you spill half of the water. It rolls down your neck and to your chest, and before you can even consider drying off, Storm’s holding a folded up napkin to your skin, patting from your collarbones to the neckline of your low-cut top.

“Awh, there you go,” she’s done patting you dry and gives you a reassuring smile. Your nipples get hard at the close contact. You hope she doesn’t notice.

You hear a scoff from Logan. Maybe he got something stuck in his teeth. Or maybe it’s directed at you and Storm.

“Thanks, Storm,” you smile your sweet smile and finish your meal.

But you’re not oblivious to what’s going on between them – the looks they’re giving each other – and you don’t know if you like it yet. Not that your opinion matters, sadly.

You bring your own pillow to Storm’s bedroom that night for your sleepover, but she’s got her bed made up all comfy with more pillows than you could need.

“Didn’t know how many you needed,” Storm tells you from in front of her mirror, “I’m so happy we’re doing this. We haven’t had any alone time in so long. Been so busy.”

She’s braiding her hair for the night, hair pulled to one side as she curls the bottom of her strands around her finger, her beautiful neck now exposed. You think about falling to your knees and begging for just one touch. Maybe draw your finger across her skin, or better yet – your lips. The way friends do.

It’s between the first and second film that you decide to finally say something. You were going to ask her during a boring scene of the romcom you just watched but it suddenly turned into a sex scene. You did your best to seem unbothered and tried to move naturally, scratching your head and flexing your wrist. You’re not sure if it worked.

“Soo,” you turn to your side to face Storm as the credits play, “You and Logan?”

You reach into the bag of gummy bears between you and Storm, attempting to seem nonchalant, as if her answer won’t affect you.

She looks a little panicked, and you’re afraid you know what her answer is going to be.

“What about us?” she asks.

You give her a suggestive look but she waits for you to say it.

“Well, is there something going on between you two? I felt like you were flirting during lunch.”

“No, not at all,” she says almost too quickly, “We’re just friends, if that.”

“Really? You’d make an attractive couple.”

She lowers her voice, “We’re really not into each other like that.” You believe her, and withhold your big breath of relief.

“And anyway, I prefer women,” she adds.

“Really? I mean, yeah, I thought you might. I wasn’t sure. I do too, by the way. Well, I like everyone. I mean not everyone obviously but I like all genders. Not that that’s relevant.”

Storm smiles at you sweetly and puts a soft hand on your wrist. “Of course it’s relevant. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

You giggle nervously, “Of course. I trust you more than anyone in this house.”

Storm’s heart swells in her chest.

You continue, “Well, and Logan obviously.”

Oh.

Obvious, is it?

Well, Storm can work with that.

She picks an incredibly gay film next. She didn’t do it on purpose. She just happened to see the film on Netflix. Sure, perhaps she chose it because there were two women in the picture, but she genuinely wasn’t aware how much sex was in the film.

You’re squirming beside her, even more than during the straight romcom you just watched, and it drives her crazy. She’s just better at hiding it, but she’s turned on too. She wishes she and Logan hadn’t fought over your attention during lunch; if you hadn’t thought that there was something going on between them you might have been ready for more tonight. But she ignores her desire for you, holding her arm tightly as she presses her nails against her skin to relieve some pressure.

When the film is over, Storm tells you how she realised she likes women. When she was little, she had a crush on her babysitter, and ever since then she just knew. You grow bashful when she asks you for your story.

“Uh, Halle Berry as Catwoman? That did it for me,” you tell her as your cheeks heat up. Storm only vaguely remembers the film, but she still has in mind that all of her friends told her that the main character looked like her.

It’s not that she didn’t know you were attracted to her before, but that solidifies it. Now she just has to get rid of Logan.

Storm is busy the next day and you miss her presence the entire morning. You woke up before her, your hands still intertwined from when you fell asleep like that, and – like a fucking loser idiot – you imagined what it was like to be her girlfriend and wake up next to her every day.

Now that you know she doesn’t like Logan, you can fantasise about being with her again without the jealousy looming underneath if he got her before you. And she didn’t just say she wasn’t attracted to him (which is crazy) but that they’re both not into each other (which is crazy of Logan). Both of your crushes are safe.

You decide to try out a new stretching routine to distract yourself from how much you’re missing Storm, your bestie who has no idea how much you like her. The positions are nothing you can’t do, but they’re definitely more challenging than your usual.

Logan’s not expecting to see you when he enters the gym; you’re not normally here at this time.

“Hi,” he says. Your head is between your legs as you’re bent upside down. He crouches down to smile at you from between your thighs.

You grin, standing up to turn towards him to say hello.

“Y’need some help?” He asks. It’s more of a rhetorical question, he’s being polite.

“Actually, there’s this stretch I can’t get into. I think I should be able to do it, but I just need someone to help push me there.”

Logan huffs out a laugh. This is like the porn he plays in his head every night with you and him in the starring roles. “Of course. Where do you want me?”

It’s even better than he could have dreamed. He thought you’d need him to hold your hands and pull to add some resistance, but now you’re bent over in front of him and he’s pushing you into a stretch like a pervy gym instructor.

You keep letting out these little huffs every time you ask Logan to push you further. They sound awfully close to moans. His knee is pressing into the back of yours like you asked him to but you keep asking for more.

He changes up his position, standing behind you fully. If he moved even an inch forward you’d feel his cock pushing against your ass. Logan would usually feel like he’s taking advantage with all the thoughts running through his mind about little innocent you but you’re the one arching even further into him.

He thanks himself for his level of self control and how he manages not to get hard with your pretty ass pressed up against him. It fuels the animalistic side of him and he wants nothing more than to fuck you right here, right now.

It was obvious that you were attracted to him before, but with the way you’re pushing back against his crotch makes him realise that it’s far from innocent.

“Thank you, that felt really good,” you tell him when you stand back up, losing balance after hanging your head upside down for so long. You use Logan’s chest to brace yourself, palms against the hard muscles there. His hands fly to your waist as he makes sure you’re alright. You nod shyly and, with another quick thanks, quickly make your way to your bathroom.

He’s got you. Now he just has to get rid of Storm, and she’s really good with you.

You check in Storm’s room after a long shower, but she’s still out. You find Logan in the kitchen; he’s looking through the almost empty cabinets.

“Wanna go shopping?”

You didn’t think grocery shopping could turn you on, but everything Logan does makes you want to rip off his clothes.

The little things fuel your crush in more heart-warming ways. Like how he picks all your favourite foods, holds the package up to you to ask for approval and places them into the cart that he’s pushing along with one hand as if it’s not full to the brim.

He’s got it all down even to the most obscure snacks you like. It’s sweet that he remembers and it makes you as dizzy as you felt during your sleepover with Storm. It’s not like you really have a chance with either of them, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you’re fine liking them both.

But it’s his touch that drives you crazy.

You’re trying to reach a snack on the top shelf. You’re on your tiptoes and your fingertips are only an inch or so away from it. Just when you’re about to give up, you feel two strong hands on your waist, lifting you that tiny bit with no effort at all.

“There you go,” Logan smiles down at you, taking the package from you and putting it in the cart. Your body still buzzes with the sparks of his touch.

You’re not very helpful for the rest of the shopping trip. All you’re doing is staring at him. You almost fall to your knees when he reaches up to the top shelf and his shirt lifts a bit. You think seeing even just a tiny sliver of his abs might be the highlight of your day, until you remember how he was pushed up against you during your stretches earlier.

God, you’re so into him.

Storm finds Logan as soon as she gets home. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to him since your revelation yesterday yet.

“She’s in her bedroom,” Logan tells Storm when she comes in, assuming she’s looking for you.

“I need to talk to you,” she crosses her arms, “She told me yesterday that she thinks we’re into each other.”

Logan cringes, “What, us two? Is she blind?”

“Apparently. I told her that it’s not like that but I don’t know if she believed it. She thought we were flirting with each other at lunch the other day instead of with her.”

“Alright, we just need to stop making it so obvious we’re fighting over her. Let’s just not get in each other’s way and she’ll choose whoever she’ll choose.”

“Yeah,” Storm agrees.

Logan smiles, “I can’t believe that stunt you pulled when she spilled the water. I mean, come on, that was so unfair, I can’t just press a napkin to her tits.”

She laughs, “Okay Mister Bicep, we both have our benefits.” They smile at each other.

Storm huffs, and reluctantly admits: “I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your abs.”

“I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your chest.”

They’re standing next to each other now, staring at nothing, consumed by thoughts of you. They’re so into you.

“When did you realise you like her?” Storm asks.

“I don’t remember an exact moment but it’s just, her gorgeous fucking face. And her whole clumsy thing just does it for me, I don’t know.”

“I like it too. She’s so adorable when she gets all awkward.”

“It makes me want to fuck her so bad,” they say at the same time, then laugh quietly.

Logan clears his throat, “Not to be crude but I’d fuck all that nervousness out of her.”

“Me too. Until she’s so exhausted she can’t even begin to overthink anything.”

They exchange a look – this is getting too heated.

“May the best one win,” Logan concludes, and with a last nod at each other, they both leave the kitchen.

It’s a mutual friend’s birthday that week, and all three of you are going to the party.

You’re walking to your room the evening of the party, and Logan opens his bedroom door just as you’re walking past it.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Logan asks, “I need help with my outfit.”

You smile. It’s an excuse to stare at Logan, of course you’ll help.

He changes his shirt about five times – even though there are only two that he can’t decide between. But every time he changes his top, there are a few seconds in which he’s half naked – his muscular, hairy, gorgeous chest and abs exposed, with that thick happy trail reminding you why it’s called that – and you forget all about what the previous shirt looked like.

You watch him change yet another time, quietly sighing to yourself because at some point you have to decide. You watch him button up his shirt and let your eyes roam over the lower part of his body.

His trousers are hugging his legs so deliciously, they must be tailored. And that sexy belt he always wears keeps sparkling with the reflection of the light, as if you’re not staring at his crotch enough anyway.

“So this one?” Logan asks.

“Y-yeah,” you nod, as if he doesn’t look equally good in both shirts anyway.

“What do you think of the material?” He asks. You smile, getting up to feel it.

You place your hand on the side of his arm, trailing down it, feeling his muscles while you pretend to be feeling the shirt.

“I like how it feels,” Logan says, looking down at himself and rubbing his fingers over his clothed chest. You follow, bringing your palm to his collarbone to trace his body, from his chest to his lower abs.

“It does feel nice,” you say. It’s a normal dress shirt, made from whatever material they’re usually made of, but with the warmth of Logan’s body it’s one of the best things you’ve ever felt.

Distracted by his body, you don’t realise Logan looking down at you, tracing your every feature with his eyes. He can practically see the water pooling in your mouth, and he doesn’t need his enhanced senses to know that you want him in this moment.

He clears his throat and it makes you lose your balance, gripping Logan’s shirt to steady yourself as his hands fly to your waist.

“Careful, bub,” he smiles and you feel the heat on your cheeks. How can this man make you stumble without even moving?

“Are you gonna wear a tie?” you ask quietly — you can’t trust your voice right now.

“I’ve got one here,” Logan passes it to you. He feels like a tie might be a bit too formal for a birthday, but he won’t stop you from staying close.

You go on your tiptoes to drape the tie around his neck, nervously fiddling with the fabric. “Actually, uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie,” you admit, giggling at your own words.

“That’s okay, bub, I’ll show you.”

You don’t retain any information as Logan helps you with his tie, guiding your fingers with his big, warm hands over yours.

Your breaths intertwine from standing so close, and you don’t even realise that you’re on your tiptoes again, trying to get as close to Logan as possible.

You know that he can hear how fast your heart is beating, but when his tie is on and you smooth it down against his chest, you feel his own heart beating wildly against his ribcage.

Logan looks into your eyes, a soft smile on his lips, and you know what’s going to happen. You’re about to kiss.

He gently places his hand on the side of your face, leaning in.

Just when your lips are about to touch, you hear Storm calling out your name from the hallway.

“Uh, Storm was gonna do my make-up,” you stutter, Logan’s hand still on your face. He silently drops it and smiles sadly, “yeah,” he says.

He moves back to stand in front of the mirror, taking the tie off again, “Think this is too much.”

You nod, “yeah. Sure. I’ll see you later.”

You walk out of Logan’s room with a weird feeling, but as soon as you get to Storm’s room it’s like nothing just happened.

It smells so good in her bedroom, a mix of her perfume and hair products and her clean bed sheets. She smiles at you, patting the bed for you to sit next to her.

You close the door behind you, creating a space for just the two of you. It always feels like that when you’re with her, even when there are other people around. Except for Logan maybe; he’s the only one who can get in without even trying — but it’s still different when it’s really just the two of you.

You’re immediately lost in the world of beautiful Storm as she presents to you her outfit for the night; it fits her every curve and contour and you briefly wonder how you could ever think of her as nothing more than a friend. It breaks your heart that she only sees you as one, but it doesn’t stop the desire you have for her and the joy you feel when you’re around her.

Storm does your make-up on her bed, both of you sitting cross-legged with your knees touching. Her hand is placed gently on your face as she does your eyeshadow.

“You’re so naturally beautiful,” she tells you in her calm voice, “Don’t really need any of this.”

You feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. She just means it as a friend, she just means it as a friend.

You gulp, “Wish I looked like you. You’re so gorgeous.”

She smiles at you softly, “Thank you, but you’re perfect like this. Lips.” You open your mouth slightly so that she can apply your lipgloss for you. Even though she’s using the applicator, it feels as intimate as if it were her finger.

She called you perfect.

Your eyes go down to her lips and you realise she hasn’t put any product on her own lips yet. You’re not sure what comes over you at your next question.

“You want some too?” you ask, breathless, staring at her lips. Even though you’re not looking into her eyes, you can see her looking down at your lips and she smiles a beautiful, sexy smile and nods.

Storm briefly presses her lips to yours, the way straight girls sometimes do at parties – except that neither of you are straight and you’re not at a party, and you doubt that straight friends feel like this after kissing each other. You pull away instinctively, you don’t want her thinking that you could ever even assume that she likes you like that. You’re just friends, and you know that.

Still, you can’t resist reaching out a finger to swipe the excess product over the top of her lip, and you let out a nervous giggle when you notice that her eyes are still on your lips.

An alarm on your phone interrupts you; you set it for 20 minutes before you have to leave to make sure you have everything. You didn’t notice how close you and Storm were until you both pulled away at the noise.

The alert pulls you out of your Storm induced warm cloud, an uncomfortable feeling settling on your skin. Being the good friend she is, Storm realises immediately.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, a soft hand on your arm.

“Nothing, I just get nervous about these types of parties sometimes. There’ll be so many people I don’t know, and it’ll be so big and loud. I was thinking of taking a shot or something.”

Storm smiles, “Not that I’m against a little shot for courage, but d’you wanna know something natural that always helps me calm down?”

“Mhm, what is it?”

“I feel like a nice orgasm always makes me calmer. Just a quick one with my fingers or a vibrator.”

Her words knock the air out of you. Somehow, you manage to respond. “I’ve always wanted to use toys but I don’t have any. I should really get one,” you chuckle nervously.

“I’m happy to share one of mine if you don’t mind,” she looks deep into your eyes and all you can do is nod your head pathetically. There are some types of thoughts you’ve done your hardest not to let into your head – she’s your friend, she wouldn’t want you thinking about her like that – and now she’s the one putting them there on purpose.

She twists her lips, almost.. nervously? and, in a low voice, says: “You think an orgasm right now would help you?”

Again, you don’t manage to say any words but you do nod your head, biting your lip.

“You wanna do it yourself or can I stay?” she asks, one shoulder pulled up seductively.

“S-stay,” you stutter.

“I could eat you out if you want, but no pressure. I just feel like that’s the quickest way.”

You take a deep breath. All kinds of thoughts are shooting through your head, but maybe she’s just horny. During your sleepover the other day, she told you how she hasn’t had sex in a while, and how she gets off on making her partners come, so maybe it’s just a natural desire that she wants to make someone other than herself come again for once. It’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, but you revel in the knowledge that she at least finds you attractive enough to want to make you come, even if it’s just as a friend.

You’re also confused. Your ex always took hours to make you come with his mouth, but, still, you believe every word coming from Storm’s pretty lips.

You nod, “Ye-yeah. If that’s okay with you. That’s a very uh, very nice, friendly favour.” You have to make sure she knows that you’re not delusional, thinking this is more than friendly.

As you squirm in your seat, you miss Storm’s little sigh of frustration at your oblivion. Instead of pitying herself, she decides she’ll show you why you should be more than friends.

“Y’ready?” she asks, blessing your ears with her bedroom voice.

“Yes,” you breathe.

Your next breath catches in your throat as Storm leans in to press the most gentle kiss you’ve ever experienced to the side of your neck. She’s warm and soft and smells like heaven.

Her lips slowly press along your pulse point, the tip of her tongue darting out as she makes her way up to your ear. Her teeth scrape along your earlobe, but she doesn’t bite. You almost whimper when her warm mouth is gone from your ear.

Storm slides her hand to your jaw, moving her thumb to your lower lip, “May I?”

You nod quickly, and she pulls your lower lip down, sliding her thumb into your mouth to wet it.

You suck on her thumb, mouth watering at having her so close. Storm takes her hand away from your face with a satisfied hum and gently folds your skirt up to your hips, pulling your panties to the side.

She giggles, “y’got such cute underwear.” You look down and remember the panties you decided to put on today – pink underwear with cherries and a red lace trim. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it, let alone Storm. Before you have time to get embarrassed, her thumb is on your clit.

You gasp at the first contact, and your knees buckle. You’re glad you’re already sitting down. She goes to kneel on her soft carpet, sitting down between your legs.

Her breath is on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

“What a pretty fucking pussy,” Storm whispers, more to herself, and impatiently pulls your underwear out of the way more harshly, making sure it stays there. She looks up at you from between your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest, and you bite your lip.

This doesn’t feel so friendly anymore. Unless she just gets off on making her pretty friends come.

Storm sucks her thumb into her mouth to wet it again and begins to gently rub your clit in circles. She realises how wet you already are and smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit.

“There you go,” she says quietly, and then puts her mouth on you. She runs her tongue through your folds and she’s so gentle. You’re torn between enjoying it and wanting more.

“Feels so good,” you mumble, and Storm grips the flesh of your thigh to hold you still.

She smiles against you, “Yeah?” and brings her middle and ring finger to your pussy. Licking your clit, she pushes two fingers into you, slowly making her way inside even though you’re more than wet enough.

Your pussy makes a squelching sound against her fingers as she begins to fuck into you, curling her fingers up to rub against your g-spot. You gasp when you first feel her there, your head dropping to the side in pleasure as you moan.

She pulls her fingers out to suck them into her mouth, tasting you with a satisfied hum, “Taste so good, baby.” You get even wetter at that name alone, squirming beneath her gaze.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still, okay?” she asks, mouth connecting with your pussy again as she looks up at you. You nod desperately, hoping she can’t feel the intense heat spreading over your face down to your chest.

She slides two fingers back into you, fucking you gently but precisely, and you already feel the excitement building up in your belly. Storm’s tongue dances over your clit, exactly how you need it to. The only thing missing now is just a liittle more friction.

It’s like she can read your mind, continuing to fuck into your wet pussy at a steady pace, as she begins to suck on your clit. You see stars immediately.

Her mouth has been on you for only a few minutes when she’s got you coming on her tongue and fingers. You whimper her name as you arch your back, hips chasing her face to prolong your orgasm as it crashes over you in waves.

She pulls her fingers out and rubs your clit for a bit longer until you’re squirming again, patting your pussy before she gets up. “Good”, she simply says, biting her lip.

“You feel better?” she smiles at you, innocently sucking your arousal off her fingers as if it’s something she’s done a million times before. As if it’s a normal thing to do with a friend.

“Yeah, much better,” you smile shyly, wondering how to ask her what that was.

She sits down right next to you, pulling your panties and skirt back in place, keeping her hand on your thigh afterwards. She smiles at you, and it feels so intimate. Storm reaches for the lipgloss again, “It’s all wiped away. Here.”

You smile and let her apply the lipgloss again. Storm places a hand on the bed next to your hip to lean in as she does so. She puts the lipgloss away but stays close. She looks at your lips. Your heart starts beating furiously in your chest – she’s about to kiss you.

This time it’s Logan who interrupts you. He calls out your name from the hallway, it’s time to leave.

Storm sits back, “you ready?”

“Yeah,” you nod. She takes your hand as you leave her room. You don’t let go even when you see Logan, his eyes immediately finding your intertwined hands.

He doesn’t know what it means. There are plenty of platonic girlfriends that hold hands.

You don’t know what it means either, but you know you like the feeling.

You don’t mean to get drunk but that’s kind of what happens when you subconsciously try to keep up with mutants with healing factors that make it almost impossible for them to get drunk.

You arrived at the party still hand-in-hand with Storm and spent the first half joined at the hip with her. Logan couldn’t even get you alone for a second because every time one of you left for the bathroom the other went too without hesitation.

Logan finally finds you alone in the kitchen, looking for another drink.

“Y’sure you should have more to drink?” he smiles.

You notice him then, “Logan!” you run over to hug him.

Being drunk makes you more affectionate.

“Can you mix me a drink?” you ask Logan, his arm still around your waist. It feels good there.

“Maybe you want water for now?”

You pout at him drunkenly, taking a step back and folding your arms, “You’re just jealous you can’t get drunk. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to.”

Logan lifts his arms in defence, “‘Course you’re allowed to, bub. Just making sure you’re up for it. What do you want?”

You, Logan and Storm end up in the living room at the mansion. You’ve been very entertaining in your drunk state but, more importantly, you decided to hold one of their hands each in your lap in the back of the car on the way home. They know you get like this when you drink, and they’d never try anything with you like this, of course. But they could have a bit of harmless fun.

It’s your idea to play never have I ever, but the two of them are just as happy to. You’re playing the game with water instead of alcohol, but that’s probably better for you anyway.

Storm and Logan resist the urge to make the game sexual; they’re unsure what you’d be comfortable with if you were sober. You’re the one who makes it explicit.

“Never have I ever…” you’re leaning the bottle of water against your cheek to cool yourself down, “had a threesome.”

The room is immediately struck with tension. Logan and Storm exchange a look that you miss. How have they not thought of this before?

You look at them expectantly.

It’s a perfectly innocent statement – well, innocent in a way that you’re not implying anything to them specifically. Even in your wildest thoughts you’ve only fantasised about one of them at a time.

Your eyes are on Storm but she shakes her head. Logan drinks. He shrugs, “Been alive for so long, you try some things.”

You’re torn between arousal and jealousy, but settle on arousal. You forget all about the game.

“I’m not that experienced,” you tell them honestly, “I’d love to experiment a bit but I get shy. Not that I’m– um, not a threesome necessarily. I’m just saying.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes.

“How many people have you been with?” Storm asks, voice soft.

You swallow, unsure whether to count her or not. Does it count if it was with a friend? “Just my ex boyfriend.”

“There’s been no one else?” Logan asks, and you shake your head in embarrassment.

“I told you I’m shy.”

“Nothing wrong with being shy,” he says, “It can be endearing. Don’t you think, Storm?”

When you turn to her, her eyes are already on you, “I agree.”

Your face feels hot and you’re suddenly nervous. They’re both flirting with you, if the alcohol isn’t deceiving you, and you don’t know who you like more. You think of some stupid ‘never have I ever’ statement to change the topic. They do you the favour of playing along.

It’s not long until you all go to bed, going your separate ways but not without a long hug from both of them.

The next morning, Logan and Storm meet in front of your room. She’s made breakfast for you and he’s brought you water and some aspirin.

“I should have thought of that,” they say at the same time. Logan knocks at your door.

“It’s us,” Storm says after another knock.

You’re not in your bedroom.

They look for you in the entire mansion, but you’re not there.

“Maybe she’s walking off her hangover,” Logan shrugs, starting to eat the food Storm made for you as they’re standing in the kitchen.

They don’t see you all day.

Storm’s in the kitchen in the evening, starting to worry. She knows you’re not far, and you can handle yourself, but she’s worried you’re embarrassed about what you said when you were drunk, or regretting what you did before the party yesterday.

There are footsteps coming down the hallway, and she knows it’s you before you’re there.

“Hey,” she smiles when she sees you.

“Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you all day.”

“Sorry,” you sit down next to her, a shy smile on your face, “Didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed to think.”

Storm breathes. “Yeah, that’s okay. What were you thinking about?” Her heart starts beating faster.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what Logan said yesterday. And I don’t know if I’m misinterpreting things and I don’t want to make anything awkward between us or anything…” you look at her in worry, and she takes your hand. She’s not sure what you mean but she knows you need her encouragement to say it.

You continue, “I don’t know but maybe… maybe Logan could show us what a threesome is like?”

All the worry on your face melts away when Storm grips your hand tighter and gets up. She grins as she pulls you upstairs.

She walks you to Logan’s room and, without knocking, pushes his door open, “My bedroom. Right now.” He follows you without question.

“Lock the door behind you,” Storm tells Logan when you’re all in her bedroom. Your skin is on fire.

“Whats’s going on?” Logan has his arms folded, a smile playing on his lips.

His eyes are on you but you look over at Storm, who just smirks.

“Are you gonna make me say it again?” you ask, horrified.

“You got this, baby,” she tells you, and hearing her call you that again gives you courage.

You look at the floor, “Uh, I don’t know if you two want to do that with me but. I was thinking maybe we could, like, have, um, a threesome?” You were a lot smoother in your head.

Logan raises his eyebrows, “You don’t know if we want to do that with you? You tellin’ me you haven’t noticed what’s been goin’ on, bub?” He’s right in front of you now, hands holding your face.

“Uh…” you know he can feel your skin heating up under his fingers.

“Want you so fucking bad. Both of us,” Logan nods towards Storm.

“Oh.”

(Logan decides this isn’t the time to tell you that his threesome was with two guys.)

They both grin at each other and Logan walks you to Storm’s bed. They sit down on either side of you – you don’t even know where to look. You don’t know who to kiss first.

Storm makes the decision for you, gently turning your head towards her. You lean in without another word.

This time you get more than a peck. Her mouth is hungry and wet against yours, her lips soft. You’re kissing messily and loudly, and you do your best not getting on top of her yet. You pull away only because Logan’s there too.

“Been dying to do that since last night,” you smile.

“I know,” Storm giggles, “Knew you appreciated my friendly favour.” You hide your face in her neck at her teasing. You’re not sure how you could be so stupid. Now you know it’s more than friendship.

“What’s that?” Logan asks, an eyebrow raised.

You bite your lip, “We’ll tell you later.”

Before he can question it, you pull Logan closer by his shirt. His kisses are rougher, but not in a bad way. His beard scratches against your cheek with the desperation in his kisses, and he’s pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips, and you grab a fistful of his shirt.

Storm starts kissing the side of your neck, the way she did last night, and you’re so lost in pleasure that you stop kissing Logan.

“Too hot,” you mumble, pulling off your top absentmindedly. They both stop what they’re doing.

“You wear stuff like this all the time?” Logan smirks, finger slipping under your bra strap. You forgot about the lingerie you put on for them.

You shake your head, “Thought we might do this tonight.”

Logan grins and starts kissing your shoulder, pulling one of your bra straps down with his teeth. Storm turns your head back to her and kisses you again – gentle, teasing pecks from her soft lips to yours. She kisses over your cheek and your jaw, begins to gently nibble on your earlobe.

Logan pauses when his mouth is at your wrist, “You know, bub, the problem with pretty lingerie like this is that it ends up coming off again real quick.”

You’re already so horny from two pairs of lips on you that you can barely speak. “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me at all,” you mumble.

“Can we take it off, baby?” Storm asks.

“Please.”

You feel Storm’s fingers at your back, opening your bra, and Logan is the one who pulls it off.

They both sigh when they see your tits for the first time, moving to the breast closest to them. Logan thumbs over your nipple, gently playing with it while Storm wraps her lips around your other nipple. You feel yourself getting so wet.

“H-how about—” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “how about you take your clothes off too.”

“How about you take them off?” Storm bites her lip.

You nod quickly, lifting her top over her head to find her bare underneath. You trace your hands over her perfect tits, cupping them as your thumbs rub over her nipples and she lets out the sweetest moan.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan moving to take off his shirt so you quickly turn to him, grabbing hold of his shirt to do it yourself while Storm stands up to take off her trousers.

You pull off Logan’s shirt and, even though you’ve seen him shirtless before, you’re mesmerised by the muscles and the hair and how good he looks.

“Y’like what you see, bub?” He smirks and you bite your lip, resisting kissing him. You move on to his belt, trying to ignore how Logan gropes your tits as you get him naked except for his boxers.

Storm sits between your legs, helping you out of your trousers and you all move to the middle of the bed. You’re panting before anything has even started, “Sorry, it’s just cause I’m excited,” you breathe, grinning with anticipation.

“It’s okay,” Storm kisses you behind your ear.

“So are we, bub,” Logan tells you, moving to press his lips to the side of your neck. He kisses further up, to your jaw, while Storm’s lips ghost over your collarbone on your other side.

Excitement builds up in your belly, your skin tingling all over. You kiss whoever is closer to you – it’s Logan – and start making out with him. The only way to accurately describe the kiss is to say that it’s sloppy. Logan’s devouring you, licking your lips and into your mouth.

You carefully feel for Storm’s face and don’t stop kissing Logan until she’s right next to you too so you can kiss her instead. She puts a hand behind your neck to pull you in, and you lean your hand on Logan’s leg to steady yourself.

When your hand moves just an inch, you feel how hard he is, and how big. You force yourself to pull away from Storm, your lips already kissed raw.

Logan’s thigh tenses under your hand, “How are we gonna do this?”

“Don’t know, just wanna cum,” you say. You don’t want to seem petulant, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. Your underwear is soaked through and it almost hurts how badly you need to be fucked right now.

“We got you, baby,” Logan says, “Can I take these off?” He starts to pull at the waistband of your panties where they hug your hip, and you nod quickly.

Storm gets up to walk to her nightstand, but you can’t focus on her too. Your mind is on Logan all but ripping your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the carpet.

He takes your knees to push your thighs up to your chest as you lie down, your head supported by a pillow.

“God, look at you. So fucking pretty. Look at her, Storm,” Logan says, spreading you open for him to take all of you in.

Storm smirks at Logan, “I know.”

You feel Logan’s eyes going between you and her, but she’s leaning down to kiss you so all of your senses are taken over by her.

“Got this just for you, baby,” Storm stops kissing you, pulling something out of the drawer of her nightstand. She’s holding a pink, soft silk bag, “Had a feeling you might want to play.” She pulls out a pink dildo, and you bite your lip as she kisses you again.

Logan asks you something twice before you register what he’s saying, lightly squeezing your ankle to get your attention.

“Huh?” you pull away from the kiss.

“Can I eat your pussy?”

You nod, “But I want you inside me.”

Logan smiles, “Alright, just let me get a taste first. Been dying to know how you taste.”

Storm lies down next to you on her stomach to kiss you some more. Her lips trail over your shoulders and move up to your neck.

Logan bends down so his face is between your legs, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so wet already, bub. So fucking pretty,” he smiles, moving to lick all the way up your pussy once.

“Here,” he pulls your legs over his shoulders as he settles between them. He pushes two of his thick fingers into your pussy and puts his mouth on you. His tongue on you is fast and skilled, but you still need more.

“‘S not enough,” you whine, and Logan looks up, smiling.

“Need me inside?” he asks, wiping his mouth that’s smeared with you with the back of his hand. You nod, staring in awe as he finally takes off his boxers and you get to see his hard cock in all its glory.

“Y’gonna be okay, bub? It’s kinda big,” he teases. You can see that. But all you can do is keep staring with an open mouth and nod. Storm wipes some spit from the corner of your mouth and gives you a quick kiss.

“You got this, baby,” she tells you, cupping one of your tits while she strokes over your hair with her other hand.

“Yeah,” you say, eyes not leaving Logan’s cock.

“You ready?” he asks, bending down to give you a long, wet kiss.

“Mhmm, need it so bad.”

He chuckles as he spreads your legs for him again, rubbing the tip of his cock along your pussy. It’s so wet you can hear it.

Logan slowly pushes inside you, and you gasp when he fills you up. He’s big, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.

“Theeere you go, bub. So fucking tight f’me. Taking me so well,” he starts to thrust into you in a gentle rhythm, fucking you deep but pacing himself.

It takes you a few moments to get used to his size, but Storm’s kisses at your neck help you ease into it. You can’t believe this is happening – you never would have thought you’d be with either of them, especially not with both and at the same time.

“Feels so good,” you moan weakly, pulling Storm to kiss you again. You whine when she lets go, but she’s sitting up at your side again soon, holding the dildo. You nod before she’s even said anything.

“Let me,” she leans over to Logan, who pulls out of you. Storm fucks your pussy with the cool silicone for just a moment, and it’s wet with your arousal when she brings it up to your chest.

She teases you first, rubbing the wet tip of the dildo over your nipples, trailing it up your chest and over your cheek, smearing your own arousal over your face. You bite your lip in frustration, and look down to see Logan jerking off to the sight of you spread out for him. You can’t decide who of them you need more.

You’re salivating just at the thought of Storm fucking your mouth with the toy, and you hum when she rubs it across your lips.

“Close your mouth, baby,” Storm says when you’re about to take it in your mouth. She leans over you and lets her spit drop onto your mouth, smiling as she trails the tip of the dildo around your mouth, your lips desperately parting for it.

“Here, baby,” she says finally, pushing the dildo past your lips. You moan around it, taking the silicone as deep as you can.

Storm fucks your mouth with it and all it’s doing is making you even more horny. The sound of Logan’s slicked hand on his cock stops, and he’s grabbing your thighs to spread them more, finally fucking you again. This time his pace is rougher, and it’s exactly what you need.

Storm’s wet lips are on your jaw as she continues to push the toy in and out of your mouth as you suck on it eagerly. She bites her lip as she leans over you to watch you, pushing the dildo in just a bit more.

“Doing such a good job, baby,” she hums, holding your chin.

“Yeah, being such a good girl for us,” Logan rasps, voice hoarse as he fucks you, “Look so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around a cock.” You know he can feel your pussy clench around him at his words and he smirks, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

As you focus back on the cock in your mouth, you notice that Storm’s free hand is down her panties, and you can see her getting worked up too, a bead of sweat rolling down the valley of her tits.

You hum around the dildo and she pulls it out. “Wanna eat your pussy,” you tell her, voice almost whiny.

She smiles, sitting up to pull down her underwear. You reach out to touch the flesh of her thigh, and all you want to do is taste her.

You get up, disregarding how Logan slips out of you as you turn around to get on all fours. Storm sits down in front of you, leaning against the headboard.

“I’ve never done this,” you tell her, leaning down with your ass in the air. Logan positions your hips so he can rub the tip of his cock through your folds, and you take a moment to close your eyes and focus back on Storm.

“That’s okay, baby,” she tells you, “I know you’ll do well.”

You nod eagerly as you spread her legs, leaning in to press a kiss to her clit. You’re addicted as soon as you taste her. You open your mouth wider to lick up all of her that you can, attaching your mouth to Storm’s pussy like you never want to let go.

Her hand goes to the top of your head, careful not to mess up your hair as she spreads her knees wider to accommodate you between them.

You lick at Storm’s clit, tongue trailing down to taste her some more. You revel in the sounds she makes when you start to make out with her pussy, all but putting your face in it.

It’s then that Logan begins to fuck you again, pushing his dick all the way inside your wet pussy. He’s rocking into you so much that it makes your whole body move forwards and backwards with his thrusts, and you can barely focus on Storm’s pussy.

“Sorry, bub”, Logan says from behind you when he notices that you’ve stopped, but you can hear from his voice that he’s not sorry at all. You and Storm smile at each other as you grip her thigh to hold yourself in place and go down on her again.

You get the hang of eating pussy quickly, paying attention to the sounds Storm makes and what makes her knees tremble around your head.

She comes against your lips when you suck her clit into your mouth. Her hand is at the back of your head, hips chasing your face as you play with her clit through her orgasm.

Being between Storm’s thighs as she comes ignites a fire in your core, and Logan’s fucking you so good, getting messy from how close he is.

You push yourself up on your arms to kiss Storm, smearing her wetness over her lips as you make out. She has to hold your face so that you don’t move too much with Logan’s thrusts, but you’re too weak to keep kissing her as you get closer to your orgasm.

“You close, bub? Gonna cum inside you,” Logan grunts from behind you.

“Mhmm, don’t stop, please.”

“I got you, baby, I got you. Doin’ so well,” he grabs your hips to fuck you even deeper as you arch your back. He hits that sweet spot inside you, and one of his hands sneaks down over your belly to rub your clit.

Even though you can hear him starting to lose his breath, trying hard not to come yet, he plays with your clit in a way that’s perfect, and your orgasm has you biting back your moans because you’re scared of how loud they’d be.

Logan blows his load in you before you’re done coming, and it prolongs your own orgasm as he fills you with his cum, somehow even deeper inside you than he was before.

You almost collapse when he’s done with you, smiling as you roll over to lie on your back.

Storm lies down next to you and kisses you while Logan gets the bottle of water from her nightstand. She drinks a sip first and then passes it to you.

Logan chugs the rest of the water when you’re done, his adam’s apple bobbing as a drop of sweat slides down his neck. You follow it all the way over his glistening abs and down into his happy trail. You notice then that he’s hard again – or still hard – and you’ve finally got the answer to that question you’ve spent nights thinking about, wondering if his healing factor also applies to his sex drive.

“You want more, bub?” Logan asks as Storm starts kissing your neck in that way she knows how to do so well.

You nod as you sit up, Storm getting the dildo as she gets behind you, Logan sitting in front of you.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” Storm asks, hand trailing down the back of your spine and over your ass as you get on all fours again.

“Yeah,” you tell her, looking back at her with a smile, a new desire forming deep in you.

You get between Logan’s legs, leaning in to kiss him again. Every time his mouth is on you, it feels like he’s devouring you, and it’s one of the best feelings you’ve ever had. He’s all tongue and teeth.

“Can I suck your cock?” you ask against his lips, your mouth squished up with his hand grabbing your face.

“Been waiting for this since I saw you for the first time, bub. Don’t know if I’ll last long.” You never thought you’d hear Logan of all people say those words, but it turns you on that you could reduce even a man like Logan to nothing but his most primal needs.

You grin as you wetly kiss down his chest, arching your back so your ass is in the air for Storm.

“So pretty,” she mumbles, lost in her own world as she runs the tip of the dildo through your folds, and you almost lose balance.

Logan’s cock leans against the side of your face as you kiss all the way down to his happy trail, and without further thought, you take him into your mouth. You can still taste a bit of yourself on him.

Storm starts fucking you with the dildo just as you’re getting into going down on Logan, and you pull your mouth off his cock. Somehow the dildo feels bigger in your pussy than it did with your mouth. Storm knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Didn’t realise how big it was,” you say, steadying your hands against Logan’s big thighs as you fuck back against the toy.

“Not bigger than me, bub” Logan grumbles, and you giggle.

“We know, big boy. It’s not a competition,” Storm tells him, and even though you can’t see their faces you know this just became a competition for them. And you really don’t mind the two people you have a crush on competing on who can make you come more often.

“Can I play with your ass, baby?” Storm asks you when you’ve adjusted to the toy in you and you’re back to trying to stuff all of Logan’s cock in your mouth. You moan around his dick.

“What was that, princess?” it’s Logan who asks.

“Yeah, you can,” you turn to face Storm, “But I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. Logan, can you pass me the lube from over there?” Logan ignores her – it’s not on purpose, but you’ve gone back to putting your wet mouth on him and you’re sucking his cock, and it’s hard to focus on anything but your wet mouth.

You pull away and look up at Logan, and he passes the lube after seeing the pretty smile you give him.

“Fuck, bub, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, bringing your face up to his to give you a kiss and then getting up to sit next to Storm.

“Just relax for us, baby,” Storm says, and you’ll never get tired of hearing her call you that.

Logan rubs a hand across your ass cheek, kneading your flesh. He finds his discarded shirt at the edge of the bed, wiping down your inner thighs that are dripping with his cum to try and stop Storm’s sheets from getting too messy.

He runs his hand softly up your spine as Storm squeezes drops of lube onto your ass. Logan’s hand goes back down, settling between your legs to gently play with your clit, not to make you cum but to relax you.

“So pretty,” Storm says absentmindedly as she rubs her thumb over your tight hole.

“Can you come over here?” you ask Logan, feeling weird with both of them at your back. You like having one at each side.

“I’m here, bub,” he sits down in front of you again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his meaty thigh instead. He gently runs the back of his hand over your other cheek as you sink down into the bed with your upper body.

Storm gently pushes the tip of her finger into your ass, “That feel okay?”

“Feels good,” you hum, letting her go deeper as she simultaneously starts to fuck your pussy with the dildo.

“Such a good girl, hmm?” Logan coos from above you and you sigh in pleasure.

“Doing so well,” Storm tells you, thumb hooked in your ass as she begins to fuck your pussy more roughly. You instinctively start fucking back, your hips moving on their own as you get up on all fours again.

Logan’s biting his lip as he watches you take Storm, hand reaching down to jerk off again, but you shove his hand away. “I wanna,” you pout, wrapping your hand around him.

“‘M not stopping you,” he tells you, sitting back as you make him feel good with your hand.

“I’m close,” you say, suddenly feeling the pleasant pressure between your thighs, looking back at Storm who smirks at your words.

She fucks into you more roughly, the added stimulation by your ass making you tip over the edge. You let go of Logan and grab his thigh to keep your balance as your orgasm flows through you, even better than the previous one.

She pulls out of you slowly, rubbing a hand over your ass cheek.

“Wanna make you cum again,” you turn to Storm.

“Later, baby, come sit on my face,” she says, and how are you meant to resist that?

She lies down on the bed and you straddle her, careful to balance your weight out on your knees rather than on her, “you sure?”

“C’mere,” she says, pulling you down onto her face, and you’re lost in the pleasure of her tongue on your clit for a few moments before you can even open your eyes again. You take Logan by his wrist and make him stand up in front of you so you can keep sucking his cock.

You suck on Logan’s dick as eagerly as Storm’s tongue is on your pussy, spit running down to his balls like it’s running down the side of Storm’s mouth. You hover over her to let her breathe but she pulls you back down.

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle you.”

She sucks on your clit with a new intensity, and you forget all about Logan’s cock as it slips out of your mouth and slides wetly across your cheek. You clumsily stick out your tongue, and Logan chuckles, “So fucked out already, hm?” He jerks off in front of your face, holding you in place. He begins to fuck against the inside of your cheek, filling your mouth with his cock.

You hum, not really listening but simply taking his cock in your mouth as the pleasure builds up inside you when Storm pushes her tongue into you. Her hands are on your ass and she sucks on your clit harder.

Your back arches as you suddenly cum again, cheeks hollowing around Logan’s cock in the process as you suck him in deeper. Storm plays with your clit for a few more moments, lifting you to roll to the side, and your knees sink into the mattress.

“Such a good girl. Y’gonna make me cum again?” Logan says from above, and you look at him with puppy eyes as you take as much of him as you can.

“Been doin’ such a good job all night, baby. You can take him deeper,” Storm says, watching you. You’re going down on Logan but you want her praise too, so you take as much as you can of Logan under both their gazes.

“Fuuuck, baby” Logan groans, his cum spilling down your throat as you swallow him eagerly and he fucks your mouth until he’s finished, the wet sound of his cock in your mouth echoing through the room.

When he’s done coming, Logan lifts you to kiss him, and you know you still taste like him. Storm is on your other side, and you turn to kiss her, both their hands on you as you keep kissing.

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve each had by the time you collapse in a tired heap of sweat and lust and endorphins.

You’re sandwiched between them, your pussy feeling as warm as your heart.

“Not that it’s a competition but I think I made her come more times than you did,” Logan tells Storm over you.

She props herself up on one elbow, smirking at you, “You wanna tell him?”

You shake your head shyly, looking over to smile at Logan. You’re close to falling asleep, only half registering what they’re saying anyway.

“Helped our beautiful girl calm down before the party last night. Tasted better than the birthday cake.”

Logan smiles, “Can’t even be mad at you, I would’ve done the same.”

They notice you drifting off, pressing gentle kisses to your lips one after the other. You feel Storm’s hand on your face.

“Look how gorgeous our girl is,” Logan says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Those are the last words you hear before you fall asleep.

Our girl. You like it.

P.S. reblog to get a kiss from Logan and let me know your fav moment/line/whatever to get an even sloppier kiss from Storm 😳🤭 (no but seriously skhksjhg😭, I appreciate every single reblog and comment a lotttt, even if they’re just short <333)

#Logan Howlett x reader #storm x reader #ororo munroe x reader #Logan Howlett x reader x storm #Logan Howlett smut #wolverine x reader x storm #wolverine smut #storm x men smut #x men storm smut #Logan Howlett x you #ororo munroe x you #help these tags are killing me idk what to write lol #wolverine x you #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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itsnesss · 27 days ago

Note

would you ever do a kimi antonelli x famous actor movie star reader! who is at the met gala and he is just like in love with her outfit and is complimenting her so much or something like that? even maybe when they do vogue grwms??

𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | you attend the met gala looking like a goddess, and kimi can't take his eyes off you

warnings | famous!reader, fluff, mild romantic tension, flirting, public attention / media speculation

word count | 0.9 k

🖇 more ka12 🖇 f1 masterlist

The hotel room smells like fresh roses and expensive makeup. You’re seated in front of the lit-up mirror while your stylist finishes the final touches on your hair.

Your lips, painted a deep wine red, curl into a small smile when the Vogue assistant asks if you're ready to film the GRWM for their YouTube channel.

"Been ready since they said 'Met Gala'," you reply with a wink, adjusting your silk robe as the camera crew sets up.

This isn’t your first red carpet, but it feels like the most special one. This year, you’re not just attending, you’re one of the main attractions. Your movie is topping the charts, your name is everywhere: on posters, on blogs, in whispers behind velvet ropes.

And apparently, in the eyes of a certain Italian racing driver.

"We’re rolling in 3, 2..." the director says, and you let out a soft laugh.

The recording begins, and you talk about your dress, a custom Schiaparelli design, deep black with hand-stitched golden details. The sculpted corset gives off armor vibes, while the tulle skirt floats like smoke around your legs. You talk about the inspiration: constellations, baroque art, the kind of goddess who gets dressed to conquer the sky.

You don’t say it aloud, but you're hoping someone out there notices all the details you poured your heart into.

That “someone” shows up two hours later.

The Met Gala is already underway when your car pulls up to the Met steps. The second the door opens, camera flashes explode around you and the crowd screams like a wave crashing over your ears.

"You’ve got this," you whisper to yourself as you adjust your dress and your perfectly practiced expression.

You walk the carpet, you pose, you smile. Everything is routine… until you see him.

Kimi Antonelli. The breakout Formula 1 star. Dressed in a perfectly tailored tux, elegant and effortlessly youthful. He shouldn't be looking at you. But he is. Like you're the only person on that carpet.

As you approach, someone from the event staff tries to guide you away, but Kimi steps forward.

"Can I...?" he asks, his smile shy as he offers his arm.

Your laugh is more genuine than anything you've done tonight.

"You're going to escort me, racer boy?"

"Only if you’ll let me say you look like..." he pauses, glancing at you from head to toe, a bit dazed, "...like a piece of art. Literally. I think time stopped for a second."

Your cheeks heat up slightly. No one’s ever said it quite like that, so direct, so honest.

"That’s a pretty poetic line for someone who drives at 300 km/h," you reply, looping your arm through his. "Are you always this charming?"

Kimi chuckles, soft and genuine.

"Only when someone takes my breath away. And you... you did that the moment you walked in."

You walk beside Kimi as the flashes continue nonstop. Every step with him on your arm becomes a moment worthy of a magazine cover. The cameras aren’t just capturing your dress, they’re capturing the way he looks at you: unapologetically, fully present, as if the rest of the world simply disappeared.

"Did you know I was coming tonight?" you ask under your breath, still smiling for the Vogue Italia photographer.

"They invited me about a month ago," he replies. "But I didn’t know you’d be here. If I had, I would've dressed better."

"Better than this?" you glance at him briefly, taking in his look. "You're flawless."

He smiles, but glances down for a moment, slightly shy. So different from the actors you usually hang around. Younger, yes but also more transparent. Like he’s not trying to impress you… but somehow still doing it.

That’s when an E! News reporter appears with a mic and an excited grin.

"The two of you together! This is unexpected!" she exclaims. "Can we steal a second of your time for the fans?"

You nod politely, and Kimi though a little surprised stays right beside you. The questions are light. They ask about your dress, your movie, your prep for the night. But when the reporter turns to him:

"And you, Kimi? Are you here with our star tonight, or was this a coincidence?"

He doesn’t even hesitate.

"If it was a coincidence, it’s the best one I’ve ever had."

The reporter laughs, you laugh too. But there’s a quiet flutter deep in your chest.

"So drivers don’t just go fast they think fast too?" you tease.

"Only when they’re in danger," he says. "Or when they’ve got a goddess on their arm."

The interview ends with light laughs, but you're not the only one who noticed the exchange. As you turn toward the entrance, you spot a few people whispering. Some fans filming with their phones. The internet is probably eating this up already.

"You did that on purpose?" you ask Kimi, still holding onto his arm.

"Did what?"

"That line. Letting everyone think we’re together."

He gives a small shrug, but his eyes are dead serious.

"I didn’t plan it. But... if the world wants to believe it, I don’t mind."

The silence that follows feels warm. Unexpected.

And then, the doors to the Met close behind you. Classical music spills across marble floors, and golden light gleams off ancient sculptures. Everything glows, but nothing glows quite like the smile he gives you when he leans in and whispers:

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

Your heart skips.

"The whole gala?"

"The whole life, if you let me."

#🖇️ kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x you #kimi antonelli one shot #kimi antonelli imagine #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

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tranquilreign · 1 month ago

Text

the next step | 18+ | oneshot

🗒 details

pairing; jungkook/reader genre: fluff, smut, boyfriend!jk virgin!reader warnings; sexual themes, soft sex, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, awkward moments (it's normal), discomfort, slight pain, swearing, jungkook is so precious in this word count: 5.5k

🖋 synopsis

step (n.) steh·p a stage in a gradual process.

you and jungkook have been dating for nearly four months, yet have never taken it to the next step. with valentine's day on the way, you try to fight your nerves and make an attempt to seduce him, with the help of your best friend, seokjin.

🖇links

jungkook masterlist main masterlist request | request rules prompt list

You sat with your face in your hands, peering out through your fingers. Seokjin, your best friend, had dragged you into Victoria's Secret, tossing every piece of lingerie he could find in your size into your hands. You had told him that you were finally ready to take the next step with Jungkook, your boyfriend.

You had been dating for four months, and he couldn't have been more patient with you. He never pushed you to do anything you didn't want, even when you noticed his bulge straining in his trousers.

"Don't worry, baby. I can sort myself out."

He would reassure you that you didn't need to do anything for him, simply because he was turned on. You always felt guilty when you pulled away from his kisses, growing shy at the thought of it going further.

So, who better to go to than your best friend, Seokjin? You had asked him to meet up for coffee and have a catch-up. You had then dropped the question on him.

"No."

"Seokjin, please! I really need your help," you pleaded.

"No offence, Y/n, but you're a lost cause."

You frowned, pulling out 200,000 won. Seokjin stared at you for a moment. He snatched the money out of your hand and quickly counted it through. He hummed, nodding.

"Fine."

"Jinnie, you know red isn't my colour," you whined, holding up a matching set of crimson lingerie.

The sight of the revealing clothes made you blush. You felt mortified at the thought of Jungkook seeing you in something so minimal. Tossing the outfit to the side, you noticed Seokjin standing in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"If you're going to discard every one of my suggestions, I may as well not help you."

"Seokjin, you've thrown everything in this store at me. I don't really know what to do with all this. And I certainly can't afford it all," you explained.

"Well, obviously you're not going to get them all," Seokjin stated as if it were obvious.

You shrank in your seat, feeling embarrassed by his scolding. You were clueless about how to wear the extra pieces. Simply put, you didn’t understand.

Seokjin moved, grabbing one of the sets and holding it up to your chest. After a moment's thought, he threw it at one of the store assistants.

"These are simply no good," he scoffed, throwing another set at the assistant. "Samantha, we're going to need these set in black, white, green and red."

The woman nodded and hurried off to the back of the store. You watched in awe at how quick she complied with his request. You leaned forward slightly, placing your head in your hands.

"Seokjin, I told you red isn't my colour."

"Trust me, Y/n. Red is your colour," he reassured. "Come with me."

Seokjin pulled you up and escorted you to the changing rooms on the other side of the store. Samantha stood, waiting for you to arrive and handed Seokjin the items he had requested.

"Thank you, Samantha," Seokjin muttered, pushing you into one of the changing rooms. "Here." Your friend handed you every single set Samantha had found. "Change. And when you're done, show me."

"W-what?! I'm not going to show you," you stammered, subconsciously covering your chest as if you were already exposed to him.

"Honey, how am I supposed to know what is best for you if I can't see it. Besides, I've known you since we were kids. And the fact I'm gay."

You huffed, drawing the curtain and began to undress. Pulling your top over your head, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Your bra dug into your sides, and your breasts were spilling out of the cups. You never could find the right size.

You unclasped your bra and picked up the black lingerie beside you. Staring at it, you felt confused about where the extra straps were meant to sit.

"Um, Seokjin, I don't really know how to say this," you confessed shyly. "I don't know how to put this on."

You were quick to cover yourself when the curtain flew open. Samantha had walked in and stared at you. She helped guide your arms into the bra and adjusted the straps, making it more comfortable for you.

"This part sits here," she explained, sorting the extra strap that sat underneath your bust. "And the other ones," she pointed to your breasts. "They are just for decoration; they don't serve any purpose."

"Right, thank you."

Samantha smiled and left the room. You turned around to look at yourself in the mirror. You were surprised at how beautiful your figure looked. Your breasts were perfectly positioned in the cups, and you appreciated that the straps didn't pinch or dig into your skin.

You were quick to put on the underwear, calling on Seokjin when you had finished. He entered, placing a hand under his chin, examining you. You looked around the room, awkwardly waiting for him to say something.

"Good. Next!"

You smiled gleefully, your confidence growing by the second. Seokjin walked out and waited for the next set.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Two hours had passed by the time you finished trying on lingerie. After going through the many sets that Seokjin had picked out, he finally decided on three: green, black, and red. You attempted to argue with him about the red set, but to no avail; Seokjin's decision was final.

"They are already bought," Seokjin mentioned as you exited the changing room.

"Jinnie, you really didn't need to do that," you pouted.

"It's no big deal, besides, I just used the money you gave me. So really, I wasn't paying for all of it." You rolled your eyes, knowing that would be something Seokjin would do.

"So, where to next?" you asked as you both left the store.

Seokjin stood for a moment, pulling out his phone and texting someone. You were silent, watching him patiently, until he closed his phone and brushed his hair out of his face dramatically.

"We will continue tomorrow. We need to boost your confidence. So I've booked you in for a boudoir session."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, Taehyung will be doing your photoshoot, so he said it was on him," Seokjin casually responded. "I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n."

With that, Seokjin left you on your own, mouth hanging open. Of all the things to help, he had to book you into the most extreme of them all.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The following day had come around quicker than you had hoped. You were sitting in the waiting area of the boudoir studio while Seokjin was speaking with the receptionist. You fiddled with your cuticles, trying not to pick at them from nervousness.

It was nearly 2:00 PM when Taehyung walked out from the back of the studio to greet Seokjin.

"Hello there, Jin. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Taehyung greeted, giving his friend a tight hug.

"Tae, it's always good to see you. I apologise for this being so last minute, but Y/n here," Seokjin gestured to you, "is having a little trouble having some confidence in herself at the moment."

"I see," Taehyung said softly, observing your posture. "Don't worry, love. By the end of this session, you'll feel like a new woman." Taehyung was gentle and encouraging with his words as he guided you through the back.

You were surprised to see the various toys displayed on a small table to the side of the room. In the centre, multiple sets were arranged, showcasing a bedroom and a kitchen.

"We don't have to use any of the items I have here if you're not comfortable with them. However, once you get started and build some confidence, I think you'll want to give them a try," Taehyung explained.

You remained silent, your eyes scanning the room, absorbing everything. You felt uncertain about how to respond. This situation was so far outside your comfort zone that standing there made you feel foolish.

"Here, love, if you get changed into your lingerie behind the curtain there, I can get the camera set up. And if you'd prefer, there's a robe in there for you to put on over the top of your lingerie, okay?"

You only nodded, shuffling to the small room and glancing around. You were hesitant to change, trying your best to stall the situation at hand. It was only when you heard Seokjin's voice that you started to move.

"Y/n, you can't be wasting Taehyung's time like this. He has other clients today as well."

You had wrapped the robe around you, just as you moved out from behind the curtain. Taehyung smiled at you, placing his hand on the small of your back to bring you to the centre of the room.

"Now we typically do a full face of make-up. But from what Seokjin has told me, you prefer it light. Minimal foundation. However, I would like to do a skin-tint and a smokey eye if that's alright?"

"S-sure."

With that, Taehyung brought you over to a make-up chair and spun you around to look at him. He was quick with his work, but gentle. Applying little pressure to your eyes when he applied the eyeshadow. Not even ten minutes later, you were finished and ready for your photoshoot.

"Now, would you prefer your photos taken in the bedroom or kitchen first. Most ladies who are a little more on the shy side prefer the kitchen to begin with, as it's not as... intimate a room," Taehyung explained.

"We can go to the kitchen."

"Perfect," Taehyung beamed, gently taking your hand and escorting you to the kitchen. "Now, I just want you to relax, okay? I'll help you get into positions so you aren't overthinking anything."

You stayed quiet, trying your hardest to let yourself relax. Taehyung sighed slightly, seeing your stiffness. He approached you and gently grabbed your arms.

"I know this is difficult for you, Y/n. But it will just be harder if you don't work with me. Trust me, I'll take good care of you. That, I promise."

With that, you let your arms drop completely to your sides, nodding. Taehyung smiled, gave you a quick thumbs up, and handed his camera to Seokjin. He motioned for you to take off your robe, and you did so, reluctantly.

"First, we'll get you up onto the counter and have you lying down."

You climbed onto the countertop, following Taehyung's instructions. He asked you to prop yourself up on your elbows, bending your leg furthest from the camera while keeping the other leg straight.

"Perfect, now finally I want you to just let your head fall back, okay? Look straight up at the ceiling," Taehyung finished.

You looked up, staring at nothing in particular. You started to laugh at the awkwardness, but Taehyung loved it.

"Brilliant!" he praised, snapping as many shots as he could.

Over time, your confidence grew as you began to enjoy the photoshoot. As the session continued, you moved from the countertop to one of the chairs, sitting backwards with your legs spread wide.

"Beautiful, Y/n. Beautiful!" Taehyung beamed. "Your partner sure is lucky indeed."

"I would like to take the rest of the photos in the bedroom set, if that's okay?" you asked, smiling hopefully.

"Of course, love. Just make your way over and we'll get the lighting moved for you."

You walked over to the bed and sat down, waiting for everything to get set up. Taehyung once again, instructed you into position, sitting you on the floor to begin with.

"Now, if you could bring your arms up over your head, and bend one across the way. Yup! Perfect."

The camera flashed repeatedly, capturing your beauty from every angle. You had caught sight of Seokjin, who was giving you the thumbs up.

"Great, now if you move onto the bed. Would you like to try some of the toys? Maybe if we have you put on the handcuffs and maybe a blindfold?"

You nodded eagerly, showing your enjoyment. Taehyung and Seokjin laughed as they gathered the necessary items. Taehyung carefully tied the restraints around your wrists, checking in with you from time to time to ensure they weren’t too tight. Lastly, he placed the blindfold over your eyes gently, being careful not to mess up your hair.

"Right, I'll need to move you myself into position. Is that alright with you?" Taehyung asked.

"Of course," you responded.

Taehyung was careful where he touched you, making sure not to touch anywhere above your knees when moving your legs. He stepped away once he had finished, and you heard the snapping of the camera once again.

A few more positions and toys later, you had finally finished your session. Taehyung allowed you to get dressed back into your regular clothing and called you over to look at the photos.

You were stunned by how beautiful you looked. Your confidence shone in the images, and it was clear you were having fun.

"I'll print all of these and send them to you in a couple of days. I just need your address." You wrote your address down on a notepad Taehyung had handed you.

"Thank you so much, Tae. I really appreciate you doing this for me. Are you sure there's no way I can pay you for this?" Taehyung laughed.

"Don't worry about it, Y/n. Working with you was payment enough. You would be an incredible model." You smiled shyly at the compliment. "I'm sorry to rush you both, however, I have another client due in five minutes."

You hurriedly hugged Taehyung and bid him farewell as you and Seokjin exited the building.

"I'm really proud of you, Y/n," Seokjin smiled. "You've already come a long way."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

A few days later, Seokjin got in touch with you again. This time, dragging you to a salon, having you booked in for a manicure, pedicure and getting your hair styled.

"Jimin~" Seokjin cooed upon entering the salon. You followed behind quietly, allowing the two men to greet each other before introducing yourself.

"Seokjin!" a man beamed. He was shorter than your friend, but a very beautiful man. Shimmer glittered his eyelids and cheekbones, enhancing his features. "And you must be Y/n. I've heard so much about you!"

"It's lovely to meet you," you said, holding out your hand.

"Oh, honey, we don't do that here," Jimin teased, pulling you into a hug. "And I most certainly don't bite."

Jimin escorted you into the salon chair and fluffed your hair, examining it. He hummed quietly to himself, pulling strands of your hair in front of your face, trying to imagine the perfect style for you.

"First, we will get your mani and pedi done. Then I'll have you back here for your hair. Sound good?" You nodded, hopping out of your chair and into one at the manicure section of the salon.

When you returned to Jimin, you had a new set of French-tip nails that matched your pedicure. He beamed upon seeing the matching set, praising his co-workers for their expertise.

"Now, honey, if you just sit tight, I'll get your hair looking brand new. Trust me, you'll love it."

Jimin had begun his work when your phone buzzed. Looking down, you noticed a message from Jungkook. A smile crept onto your face upon seeing his name. You unlocked your phone, opening the message.

'Hi baby, I know you know I don't do Valentine's Day, but I booked us a table at that Japanese restaurant you love so much. xx'

You smiled reading the message. Normally, you would be ecstatic about this reservation. But this time, you wanted to focus on him only.

'Hey. I actually have something planned for us already. Would you mind cancelling the reservation? xx'

Ping. He responded immediately.

'Oh? What are we doing?'

'It's a surprise. xx'

You giggled a little, catching Jimin's attention.

"Is that the boyfriend, honey?"

"Yeah, he's asking what I have planned for us on Valentine's Day," you laughed a little when Jimin grinned.

"Jin informed me of your boudoir session yesterday. He mentioned how well you had done, despite you being so nervous to begin with," Jimin smiled warmly.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting to have so much fun with it, and to enjoy feeling myself? I guess?"

"Well, from what I've been told, you expressed confidence Seokjin himself had never seen from you. That's a big achievement," Jimin explained, pulling your hair in different directions, making small cuts.

"I honestly wouldn't have any confidence if it weren't for Seokjin and Taehyung. And you, of course."

"Your confidence comes from you. No one else. Taehyung and Seokjin just helped you realise your potential. It was you who made it happen."

It was only ten minutes later when Jimin had finished your hair. You gasped, impressed by his styling and his swiftness.

"You're very lucky, Y/n. You're hair is already so luscious and healthy. I just needed to shape it a little bit," Jimin explained, placing his hands on his hips.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate you doing this for me." You moved to take your purse out when Jimin stopped you.

"Oh no, honey, this is on me."

"I can't have you do that. Taehyung did this yesterday, please. If you won't take a full payment, at least let me tip you," you pleaded, holding out 30,000 won.

"Fine, but that's all you're allowed to pay," Jimin scolded, playfully tapping your head with a magazine. "Now go, enjoy the rest of your day, and have a lovely Valentine's Day."

"Thank you, Jimin. I'll be back next week for my haircut, and all the details," Seokjin called, earning a smack on the arm from you.

"Jinnie!" you frowned.

"Oh, like you won't tell me everything that happens the next day," Seokjin fired back, making you go quiet. "That's what I thought. I am your best friend after all." You laughed lightly.

"That you are Seokjin."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Valentine's Day had finally arrived. You paced back and forward in your bedroom, waiting for Jungkook to arrive. Everything that Seokjin had taught you had gone out the window. You were overthinking. It was one thing to be confident in yourself and even find yourself sexy.

But having your partner think that of you was completely different. You had spent forty minutes deciding on what lingerie set to wear, calling Seokjin frantically.

"Y/n. The red one," was all Seokjin said before he hung up, leaving you to yourself. You didn't agree with him, but still put it on nonetheless, trusting his judgement.

Your makeup was simple, yet sultry. A robe was tied loosely around your waist, and your hair was as perfect as the day Jimin had styled it. You looked perfect, but you didn't feel it.

Your head snapped to the sound of the front door opening, indicating Jungkook was home.

"Baby? I'm home."

"Now's not the time to get scared," you told yourself.

Quickly, you tightened the belt around your robe and grabbed the envelope on your bedside table, which held the boudoir photos. You quickly pushed your hair out of your face, sitting down on the bed and crossing your left leg over your right, making sure to expose your thighs.

"Baby?" Jungkook asked, opening the bedroom door.

He stopped when he saw you, surprised to see you the way you were. You attempted to use the envelope to fan your face slowly, but with your nerves getting the better of you, your fanning was becoming more aggressive.

"Are you okay, Y/n? Did you not hear me come in?" Jungkook asked, pulling off his jacket and placing it onto the bed.

"I-I'm fine," you stammered. "Just a little warm," you added.

Jungkook looked at you quizzically. He went to unbutton his shirt when you suddenly stood up. He halted, watching your movements closely.

"I actually have something to show you." Your attempt at sounding sexy was backfiring, making you feel foolish.

You went to untie your robe when you ran into a problem. It was too tight. With your back to Jungkook, you fiddled and tugged at the belt, a poor attempt to untie it. You cursed un your breath.

"Baby? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," you responded, your voice failing you as tears began to well in your eyes.

Jungkook recognised the tone of your voice immediately and made his way over to you. You shrugged off his hand when he placed it on your shoulder, growing more frustrated.

"Darling," Jungkook cooed.

You stopped, allowing tears to cascade down your face, accepting you had messed everything up. You spun around, burying your face into Jungkook's chest as you cried. Jungkook was confused, but he stayed silent, running his hand through your hair lovingly.

"Tell me what's wrong, baby," Jungkook comforted, leading you over to the bed and sitting you down. He knelt down in front of you, his heart breaking at your tears.

"I-I just wanted this to be perfect," you choked.

"What did you want to be perfect?"

"I was finally ready. I wanted- I wanted to fully give myself to you," you sobbed, your head hanging low.

Jungkook finally realised what was happening. He couldn't help but smile at your efforts, finding it cute that you would go to such lengths for him. He placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

"You don't need to do any of this for me, baby. I love you just the way you are. You're nothing short of perfect."

"But I had done all this for you. I just wanted it to go right," you sighed, wiping away your tears with the sleeve of your robe.

"Well, how about we start again? I'll help you get this untied, and we can go from there. But only if you are sure you want to do this," Jungkook stated, seriousness in his eyes.

"Yes, I want to."

With your verbal consent, he pulled you to your feet and allowed his hands to move from your shoulders to your belt. With ease, he untied the belt. He looked at you one more time, silently asking if he could continue.

You moved your hands to the opening of your robe, pulling it back and allowing it to fall off your shoulders to the floor. Jungkook bit his lip, looking at how perfect you looked.

"You look breathtaking in red," he breathed, his eyes landing on your breasts.

He watched as your chest rose from your nervous breathing, the sight almost making him lose control. He moved his hand up, lightly tracing the back of his forefinger down your cheek. You shivered at the contact, making him smirk. Moving his hand down to your bra, he gently tugged at one of the decorative straps lying over your breast.

"God, you are stunning," he whispered, moving to wrap his arms around your waist.

He pulled you in close, letting his lips ghost yours, leaving you breathless. He moved to your cheek, planting soft kisses down to your shoulder. He moved further down, just above your breasts and kissed the same spot. You let out a quiet moan, feeling him suck and nibble at your skin.

When he pulled away, he smirked at his work. A small hickey was now placed above your left breast. His gaze moved up to your face, taking in your expression. Your eyes were closed, breathing heavy, biting your lip to suppress your moans.

"Can I lie you down on the bed, baby?" he whispered. You nodded.

"Yes."

He lifted you with ease, bringing your round to the side of the bed and lying you down. He stripped himself of his shirt, giving you a moment to stare at him. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times. But now, it was different. You took in every inch of him, admiring every muscle and tattoo. Without thinking, you sat up, placing your hand at the hem of his trousers, sliding upwards toward his neck, kissing his torso as you did so.

He let his head fall backwards, muttering quietly under his breath. Your touch drove him crazy, and he couldn't explain why. How soft your skin was, and your delicate touches. All he wanted was for you to constantly be touching him.

You had pulled back, noticing the bulge in his pants. You brought your hands to his trousers, unbuttoning them slowly, teasingly. He watched you, his gaze intense. Only when you leaned back down onto the bed did he move, removing his trousers in a shift motion and climbing on top of you.

"Please, let me kiss you," he pleaded, his tone taking you by surprise. You had never heard him so needy.

"Of course, Kook."

Jungkook wasted no time closing the gap between the two of you, letting your lips mould with one another. Your breath caught in your throat when his hand traced down to your waist, gripping it tightly. He pulled away, looking over you to make sure you were okay.

"Don't stop," you whispered, pulling his back down.

You felt him slowly begin to grind into you, adding to your excitement. He moved from your lips and peppered kisses down until he reached your stomach. He looked up at you, hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear. You nodded eagerly.

In one swift motion, your underwear was pulled off and discarded on the bedroom floor. He lay flat on the bed, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

"If there's anything I do that doesn't feel right, let me know, baby," he reassured. You silently agreed. He moved his face closer between your legs. His breath tickled your thighs, making you giggle slightly.

You gasped when Jungkooks lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently, while his tongue moved up and down in a rhythmic motion. Your hands moved to his hair, back arching as a moan escaped your mouth.

"I-I'm sorry," you panted, flustered.

Jungkook pulled away, chuckling softly at how cute you were. He gently kissed up your inner thigh, then back down.

"There is no need to apologise, baby. If anything, it gives me confidence that I'm making you feel good. So let me hear you moan for me."

Jungkook moved back down between your legs and continued. A string of moans left you as Jungkook pleasured you. Every now and then, he would change his pace, slowing down or speeding up. You grew frustrated with his teasing, whining from the pleasure.

"Please."

Jungkook stopped.

"Please, what?"

"Please, make me come," you pleaded, looking down at him.

His eyes were filled with lust and love, grinning mischievously. He moved back one more time, this time keeping the same pace. He flicked his tongue against your clit, feeling your grip tighten in his hair, he knew you were close.

Jungkook felt you come undone against his tongue, your body shaking in ecstasy. He moved down to your entrance, licking from the bottom up to your clit, tasting you. You jerked at the sensitivity. He breathed out a laugh, the cold air hitting against you.

"Did that feel good, baby?" he asked while kissing your thighs.

"Fuck, yes."

Jungkook took the opportunity to move back up, so he was hovering over you. You avoided eye contact with him, becoming shy at how easily you came. He waited until you looked back at him.

"We can stop here if you-"

"No," you answered a little too quickly. "I-I want to go the whole way."

"That's a good girl," Jungkook smirked, standing up and pulling his boxers off.

You couldn't help but stare as he did so, unable to take your eyes off his size. You swallowed a little, your nerves beginning to return. He reached over to his bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out a small silver packet.

He tore it open with his teeth, pulling out a condom from the foil. He pulled it over his cock and rolled it down, making sure it sat securely at the base. Jungkook then crawled back on top of you and grabbed hold of himself.

"I'm going to ask one more time. Are you sure?" he asked, noticing how your face changed.

"Y-Yes, I'm sure. I'm just nervous," you replied shyly. Jungkook planted a soft kiss against your forehead.

"It's okay to be nervous, baby," Jungkook soothed. "But I will say, with you still being a virgin, this may hurt a little bit. Okay?"

You nodded in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook rubbed his tip against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness.

He was gentle, slowly easing in and out a little bit at a time, getting you used to the feeling. Your eyes scrunched shut when he began to push further in, the stretch becoming painful. Your nails dug into Jungkook's shoulders. He took that moment to stop, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Please tell me you're almost in," you winced.

"I'm afraid we're only halfway," Jungkook informed. You laughed a little, trying to take your mind off the pain you were feeling below. "You're taking me so well, baby. Just a little further."

Jungkook's words filled you with reassurance, and you gestured for him to move again. With one final push, Jungkook was all the way in. You let out a quiet grunt in pain at the feeling. Like before, Jungkook stayed still, waiting until you were ready.

He kissed your face, attempting to take your mind off the ache. You breathed heavily, trying to allow yourself to relax a little more. Jungkook whispered praises in your ear, telling you how good you were doing.

When you felt that you were finally ready, you nodded, signalling for Jungkook to move. He moved his hand behind your back, raising you up slightly. Slowly, he pulled out and slid back in, making you both moan in unison.

"Fuck," he whispered.

The feeling of you tightening around his cock had him fighting not to finish. He often fantasised about how you felt, but he had never thought you'd feel this good.

"Oh my God," you gasped, feeling him stretch you with every thrust.

He continued his steady pace, sweat beginning to form on his forehead. He moved his hand from your back to your face, making you look at him.

"Will you-" he grunted, "will you come with me?"

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response. He took the opportunity to pick up his pace a little, thrusting deeper. The feeling had you in a state of euphoria, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm grew closer.

"Fuck, Kook- I'm gonna-" you couldn't finish as you reached your high. You pulled yourself up to his chest, needing to be close to him as he came shortly after. His breathing was uneven, hair sticking to his forehead as he rode out both your highs.

He finally stopped, slowly pulling out of you, and moving to lie on the other side of the bed. You closed your legs, pouting at the sudden loss of contact.

Jungkook rolled off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. Confused, you sat up and waited for him to come back. He returned shortly with a damp washcloth and sat at the bottom of the bed.

"Open your legs for me, baby."

You complied, slowly spreading your legs again. Jungkook brought the cloth to your entrance, gently wiping away any excess saliva and sweat, being careful not to brush your sensitive clit.

"I did rip you a little bit. I'm sorry," Jungkook apologised, wiping away a little bit of blood that had mixed in with your orgasm.

"It's okay," you replied. "Was I- was I okay?" you asked sheepishly.

Jungkook pulled back from you, tilting his head, giving you a knowing look.

"You know you were more than okay. You were perfect. I'm glad you were confident enough to show me all of you," Jungkook praised, leaning forward to cup your cheek in his hand.

"I love you, Kook," you hummed, closing your legs and moving slowly to him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in the mixture of your scent and sweat.

"I love you, too, baby."

hey there! thank you so much for reading! i will say, I am really proud of this piece, as it's the first time I've wrote smile in a while! please let me know what you think and if I should do more in the future!

tranquilreign~

#tranquilreign #jungkook x reader #jk #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader fluff #jeon jeongguk

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wheneclipsefalls · 11 months ago

Text

Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect.

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures.

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out.

His reward for all that he has had to endure.

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying.

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort.

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal.

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him.

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit.

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses.

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair.

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are.

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you.

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap.

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy.

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know.

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have.

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek.

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter.

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both.

Later, he reminds himself.

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily.

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy.

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours.

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back.

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it.

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls.

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.”

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.”

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep.

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale.

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower.

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.”

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn.

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.”

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience.

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan.

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner.

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow.

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight.

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt.

A sharp smirk cuts into his features.

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs.

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more.

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running.

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths.

And then your breathing is cut all together.

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt.

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels.

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.”

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability.

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again.

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs.

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection.

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air.

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards.

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip.

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow.

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out.

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger.

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest.

Neteyam keeps it sheathed.

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!”

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.”

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm.

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures.

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves.

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises.

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer.

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear.

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights.

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to.

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames.

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible.

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention.

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole.

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs.

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else.

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor.

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers.

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button.

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee.

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets.

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own.

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair.

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth.

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place.

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment.

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away.

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing.

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop.

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him.

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of.

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms.

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning.

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle.

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied.

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time.

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips.

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?”

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same.

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.”

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver.

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations.

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you.

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him.

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.”

Your alarm flares up once more.

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish.

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his.

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.”

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out.

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor.

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys.

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more.

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload.

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place.

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly.

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.”

And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows.

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids.

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union.

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss.

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper.

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else.

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over.

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong.

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust.

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek.

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations.

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom.

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him.

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper.

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts.

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark.

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible.

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly.

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again.

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same.

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.”

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out.

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat.

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frostyresolve · 7 days ago

Text

washed away by the tides ꒰ ᝬ amphoreus men

you live on in the shards scattered around amphoreus. spoilers for 3.3 trailblaze mission: the fall at dawn’s rise. features phainon, mydei and anaxa. 2.7k words. angst. fluff.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧

“only the best for you," he says jokingly, stepping into the elevator and pulling you along with him. you’ve been a victim to his ideas before. secret moments in between his daily patrols, seen him in the most atrocious of outfits that he declares the pinnacle of fashion, watch him haggle for hours over an artifact. sneaking into the bathhouse after hours wasn’t really a crime, just something that was frowned upon. but being somewhere you shouldn’t was an entirely different story.

you’re staring at PHAINON in disbelief, mouth parting slightly as he practically forces you in along with him. you shouldn’t be here, you feel; the hero’s bath was reserved for chrysos heirs and you most definitely were not one. your gaze is questioning, almost, unsure if he was breaking a rule by bringing you with him.

“the hero’s bath?” your breath hitches as the elevator ascends. immediately you think of the consequences of getting caught; you’d probably be breaking an unspoken law by being here without the permission of the lady goldweaver.

he catches your questioning gaze, noticing the disbelief and uncertainty in your expression, chuckling softly at your questioning expression, and squeezes your hand reassuringly. "don’t worry; i’m allowed to bring guests. besides, i’m the only one here right now, so no harm in having some company."

it’s quiet and ambient without the sounds of the other patrons, only the two of you here. the water looks almost magical, tiny gold flecks shimmering beneath the surface. the tranquil atmosphere is a stark contrast to the crowded main bath area, and he enjoys having the entire place to himself. he’s even more gorgeous you realise suddenly when he beams at you, you don’t mind getting lectured now, if it means he’ll smile at you like you’re his world.

looking at you with a cheeky grin, he sheds his tunic and enters the pool, the water lapping at his waist. "are you coming in?" he teases.

when you finally emerge from behind the shade, he takes in the sight of you, sitting at the edge of the pool, with your toes touching the water. with a teasing glint in his eyes, PHAINON pads over to you and stops by the edge, his hands on either side of your thighs. so he inches even more closer to the edge of the pool where you are, resting his chin on your knee and looking up at you with feigned innocence. instinctively your palm reaches out to cup his face; his cheeks puff at the gesture of affection. only to you would he melt in your hands, the blazing sun destined to rise now the moon aching for the presence of warmth.

he leans into your soothing motions as you thread your fingers through his wet hair, a small shiver running down his spine. you could’ve sworn the low hum rumbling in his throat sounds like a purr or maybe a moan, you’re not too sure with the sound of water rushing from the waterfalls. closing his eyes for a moment, savouring the feeling of your touch before opening them again, his gaze fixes on you.

he clears his throat, beautiful ocean eyes sparkling in the night like stars in the sky, wet hair covering his gaze before your other hand gently brushes it away.

"it isn’t fair, i know," he says suddenly, the conflict in his voice palpable, catching you off guard from the sudden turn of a conversation. "but please, believe me when i say that my heart is yours."

you’re quick to reassure him, thumbs rubbing gentle circles onto his dimples as if soothing him with your mere touch alone. “i don’t doubt you for a second. so…don’t take it upon yourself to hold the weight of the world alone. i’m here if you ever need anything.”

he nods, his voice taking a tone that was gentle but yet intense. "i know you do," PHAINON whispers, his voice soft but firm. "and i’ll always be grateful for it. but i wish it could be different—that i could promise you more than just my heart."

“you’ve given me your time; that’s more than enough to me.” your words cut deep through your shared bond. his expression falters at the implication of your silent affirmations, so you take it upon yourself to turn that frown upside down.

so you splash water at him playfully, and he sputters as he’s caught off guard, water spraying his already damp hair, looking more like a wet puppy as he pouts at you. before he retaliates, of course, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in with him.

you shriek while PHAINON laughs, a husky yet melodious sound that echoes through the empty bathhouse. for just a second, everything feels perfect when your eyes meet his, the purest blue you’ve ever seen, and his lips touch yours reverently.

══════════════════

“actually, i was wondering if you could try this. was thinking about replicating your own, but i think it's about the same.” you perk up, pulling out a plate of honey cakes coloured pink from behind your back, the same he usually prides himself with baking.

his golden eyes fixate on the pink-tinted honey cakes that you're presenting to MYDEI, his features subtly shifting to a state of perplexity and caution. a small wrinkle appears on his usually smooth forehead.

he observes the pastry with wariness, the sudden feeling of dread sending a chilling sensation down his tenth thoracic vertebrae. "i see," he begins slowly, his voice a mere hum, "where did you obtain these?"

“i made them, of course.” you’re a little puzzled now by his reaction, sparing a glance at the honey cakes before turning back to him.

“you made them?” he reiterates, his response tinged with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite fathom the words you were speaking.

with slight hesitation, he picks up a honey cake from the plate, observing its appearance with a mixture of curiosity and caution. sniffing it carefully like a chimera cat, it smells the same as the ones he’d make.

yet, something nagged at him.

“tell me," MYDEI continues, his voice stern, “what did you add to these cakes?”

“pomegranate milk like you usually do? i know you like your treats pink.” you’re getting more confused by the minute, unsure why he was acting so off. guarded as if he was facing a titankin and not a plate of desserts.

“why don’t you try them? i really want to get your input.” you press on, looking at him intently as you hold the plate out to him.

his eyes harden at your insistence. sighing and looking at the pastries, he knew you meant no harm, and he couldn��t quite bring himself to doubt you.

“alright.” he relents, picking up one of the pink cakes and taking a tentative bite, his expression unreadable.

it’s like an assault on his taste buds. he’s died before, multiple times. that’s the reason why one of his many names was ‘MYDEIMOS the undying’, but he thinks this, has been the closest to actual irreversible and absolute death that he will ever get. instantaneously, his jaw locks as if preventing him from taking another bite.

his mouth is dry from the horrendous flavour that attacks his tongue, and the lump in his throat makes it difficult to swallow. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he tries to eradicate the taste that lingers there, only to be left with a nauseatingly sweet aftertaste that clings to the inside of his cheeks.

you look at him expectantly, eyes sparkling innocently as you wait for his opinion, oblivious to the fact that you nearly sent him alone to the sea of flowers. “so…how does it taste?”

he swallows once, twice, to moisten his throat. his voice is hoarse as he responds, "it’s... wonderful."

“you’re sure? it seems like you didn’t like it. did i do something wrong?” you ask in scepticism, the paleness of his expression not reflecting the praise he’s just given you. looking back at the plate of pink cakes, pondering an idea for a moment. “maybe i should try just to be sure.”

his face contorts into one of mild panic, and his mind races.

so MYDEI quickly snatches the plate out of your hands and, in a twist of events, starts scarfing down the pink pancakes at an alarming rate.

his stomach aches with every bite he takes of the cakes, the sweet flavour now a torment he can’t escape. the texture, so soft and spongy, feels like sandpaper against his throat.

but, he manages to keep a calm demeanour as he swallows the last bite, his heart pounding as he looks at you, a forced smile plastered on his face.

"delicious," he manages to choke out, trying to sound convincing.

“really? i’ll get you something to wash away the taste. i have some juice.” you nod with a relieved sigh, about to make a beeline to the kitchen. he’s learnt his lesson, four times actually, with each honeycake he’s gagged over, catching your wrist before you leave and pulling you flush back to him. chests touching, your eyes are wide at the sudden proximity, and your hand brushes his bare chest where tattoos ink his skin.

“i have an idea of something that’ll help.” this is his revenge, MYDEI thinks; he’ll scrape the taste of those vile cakes away with a kiss, maybe one for each bite he's taken. he’s gentle as he can be, gloved hands tilting your chin up as his lips brush yours. you don’t notice the flavour of your failed attempt at desserts, addicted to the taste of him as your eyes shut.

══════════════════

"one wish, no boundaries, no limits. what would it be?” your voice a low hum that echoes across the room of his laboratory, feet barely touching the ground as you sit on the edge of his desk, watching curiously as he sifts through the papers. you’re not sure how he keeps track of his documents, from the essays of his students, his own personal experiments, and receipts for droma merchandise that he’s had shipped to the grove.

his gaze lingers on you for a moment as ANAXA pauses, breaking down your question into pieces before he carefully crafts his answer to fit his ideals.

"i want a world where truth,” he begins, “where truth isn’t locked away beneath the weight of power. where people could learn and understand without the fear of retribution."

“that sounds like a very… you answer, professor. you’re not scared of it? the truth and the consequences it may bring, i mean. sometimes…they don’t hold the answer you want.”

a faint, amused smile touches his lips. it was an answer he was accustomed to hearing, and yet, there was something about the way you said it that made it sound less like a rebuke and more like a warning.

"not scared?" he repeats, the words rolling off his tongue like a quiet laugh, "perhaps i’m not… or perhaps i’m simply too tired to fear anything any more."

he tilts his head slightly, gaze flickering over you again. "i never said the answer would be one you wanted.”

“you’re perceptive as always; it’s infuriating. i’d expect no less from one of the seven sages. you make the rest of us look like naive chimera cats next to a verax leo with your insights and observations, don’t you?” a huff of exasperation leaves your lips, shaking your head at ANAXA. there’s dry humour in your tone, a hint of sarcasm that he finds almost refreshing.

"am i now? i think you give me too much credit. i am but a feeble scholar with too much time in his hands." his faint smile deepens into a barely audible chuckle, a rare display of amusement. while many others might have bristled at your words, he only seems mildly amused.

he regards the night sky out the window as if for guidance, stars mocking. "naive chimera kittens, you say? i don’t doubt they’d scratch just as fiercely given the chance."

“didn’t answer my question. are you scared about what the truth brings? not everything’s sunshine and rainbows, especially in amphoreus. never here.” you roll your eyes at him, fingers digging into the side of the desk as you wait pointedly for his reply. a truthful one this time instead of an attempt at deflection.

he sighs, dry humour and nonchalance giving way to seriousness once more. "of course i’m not scared," he says quietly, his words a mere breath on the wind. "the truth is always a risk. it could be a miracle; it could be a nightmare. it could free us or condemn us."

he finally peels himself away from whatever he was doing, straightening to his full height from his previous slouching position over one of the laboratory tables as he approaches you. in the softly dancing light, he seems to cast shadows, a reflection of dark uncertainty that he’s familiar with all too well.

"but some risks", he murmurs, "are worth taking."

“even if it means losing everything along the way. even if it means you’ll pay the price with your soul?” you asks hesitantly, yelling inwardly at yourself for letting your guard down. you can’t help but lay your heart bare to him; it’s a curse in itself, one you can’t cure.

his gaze softens ever so slightly, the crimson of his eye flashing with a hint of something—understanding, perhaps. ANAXA took another step forward, closing the distance between you.

"even then," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "even if the world turns against me, i will not shy away from the truth. too long have i lived in the shadows, in deceit and lies. better death, better damnation, than to live in ignorance."

his words hang in the air like a promise, or maybe a threat. you’re not too sure, he wants you to figure it out on your own.

“you’ve thought long about this, haven’t you? you’re always two steps ahead of me.” you nod quietly. your own confession is reluctant; you don’t know how he’ll respond to it, but that shouldn’t worry you. everyone has their own opinions and beliefs, but some part of you wants your answer to please him, but you speak up regardless. “i don’t know what i’d do actually. is that so bad?”

he seems to consider your question more carefully this time, and you hope he won’t go overboard with his reactions like he usually does, cackling himself into a frenzy out of his own lectures. "not bad," he says finally, "just...surprising."

reaching out, his fingertips barely skimming the edge of your cheek, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to touch you. his fingers lingered there, in that space just millimetres from your skin, and you resist the urge to lean your cheek into his palm to close the distance between you both. "you, with your secrets and half-truths..." he murmurs, words a breath against your ear.

“then i hope you don’t mind if you unravel the truth, with me by your side then?” another question, this one soft and gentle that it tugs on the heartstrings he thought he had severed long ago.

he purses his lips thoughtfully. he looks away, a glint of something in his scarlet eye.

"with you by my side..." he echoes thoughtfully. "i suppose i could make an exception."

he steps closer, his presence closer than ever before. eye lingering on your mouth for a moment before returning to your gaze. hand curling to cup your face, you feel the cold metal of the rings on his finger against your cheek.

"i think it would be...enlightening. shall we give it a try?” ANAXA murmurs, noses brushing and lips tantalising.

══════════════════

the memory shard whirs, crystals forever frozen in time as the pink creature floats around the two figures. it’s a stark contrast against the red sky and the fire falling from the horizon.

“do you think they got their happy ending?” the creature called mem asks, blue curious eyes staring intently at the memory, itching to replay it again despite knowing how the story ends.

with a heavy heart, the shard hums to a close, sealing whatever wish it carried. some romance stories end with tragedy after all, like how not all dreams come true. and this was just another memory lost to the black tides and cruel fate.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #phainon x reader #phainon x you #hsr phainon #mydei x reader #mydei x you #hsr mydei #anaxagoras x reader #anaxagoras x you #hsr angst #𖦆 📼 frostyresolve ⩇ ʿ ୭

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